We Wrote a Cookbook!

The story behind the recipes that no one asked for

WARNING: This week, I’ve decided to skip sharing a new recipe. While I’d love to say this was planned, the truth is that the recipe I was working on didn’t turn out as I’d hoped. C’est la vie! (That is life)

In other news, I’m starting a new newsletter specifically for the cookbook! You might be wondering, “why two newsletters?” Besides being a bit of a masochist who loves adding more work to my week, I want to keep this leading newsletter a space to practice my creative writing (which I’ve enjoyed so much lately). That said, I also know I need to promote all the incredible content in the cookbook. So, instead of compromising, I’ve decided the best solution is simple: write two.

Mix It Up Newsletter: Personal stories, creative writing, and recipes that reflect my latest interests. Published every other Saturday (twice a month).

Mix It Up Cookbook Newsletter: Nutrition tips, culinary tricks, and recipes using framework from the cookbook. Released every other Saturday (twice a month). Wondering what a framework is? Check out my first post for all the details!

Thank you for humoring me and allowing me a safe space to tell the story no one asked for.

A newsletter from a publisher I follow popped into my Substack inbox, boldly titled “No One Cares About Why You Write Your Book.” It’s solid advice—most people want the substance, not the backstory. But with a small audience and a primary goal of honing my writing, why not share anyway?

As I mentioned in last week’s newsletter, I’ve been reflecting on the story behind the cookbook. With the project nearing the finish line, memories from the past decade have surfaced, reminding me that while this isn’t a memoir, every recipe is rooted in a lived experience.

Oddly enough, it brings to mind Slumdog Millionaire, where each question in Who Wants to Be a Millionaire is tied to the protagonist’s life journey. I’m not claiming my story is as dramatic—there’s no million-dollar prize at the end—but I resonate with the idea that our past experiences shape what we know today.

And so it begins …

My first business venture was an unexpected detour, set in motion by a rejection. The summer before my senior year of college, I spent long hours working at a coffee shop. Every morning, a mother and her daughter would come in for their usual. Then, about 12 hours later, they’d return after their evening walk, ordering iced teas and saying goodnight to their morning barista. On the last day of summer, as I handed over their drinks, the mother said, “I like your work ethic—if you ever need a job, let me know.”

A few months later, I was waitlisted at the only graduate school I had applied to. Rather than admitting I had no post-grad plans, I picked up the phone and called the woman from the coffee shop, taking her up on her offer. Soon after, I was on a flight to Los Angeles, stepping into a new world as a publicity intern at NBC. I got a behind-the-scenes look at the entertainment industry, working backstage on The Voice and The Tonight Show. It was exhilarating—but not my calling (as my lackluster social media presence probably makes clear).

What did come from that experience, though, were lasting friendships and the unexpected spark of a new venture: a health-focused company for college students. I had a blast creating recipes that could be made in dorm rooms with minimal time, effort, and ingredients—turning a detour into something meaningful.

Eventually, I moved back to the East Coast to focus on my academic pursuits and start graduate school—not at my dream school but at the one I could afford. To cover tuition and living expenses, I worked as a nanny and taught exercise classes at a gym.

Over time, teaching spin classes at a gym led to something bigger—a private practice where I provided nutrition counseling to people looking to enhance their fitness. Working alongside some of the best personal trainers in the industry, I built lasting relationships with clients, many of whom I still keep in touch with today.

That experience opened my eyes to the fact that there’s often a gap between what people want to do and what they actually do. I came to understand two key things:

1. Nourishing the body is far more complex than simply following a meal plan.

2. The best approach isn’t the most elaborate—it’s the easiest.

Around the same time, the family I nannied for introduced me to the dietitian leading the Boston Medical Center (BMC) Teaching Kitchen—a connection that ultimately led to my first real job as a dietitian. After earning my master’s degree, I was hired as a culinary dietitian in the Teaching Kitchen, and about a year later, I was promoted to manager. In that role, I oversaw daily operations and taught culinary medicine to patients, staff, students, and community members.

Given the incredible diversity of the BMC community, I shifted away from rigid recipes. Instead, I used recipe frameworks, allowing participants to personalize their learning based on their food access, preferences, and eating patterns. (Read more about frameworks). I used the kitchen as a space to foster deeper connections—a safe, welcoming environment to talk about real food, share personal experiences, and explore individual preferences and values around eating. I’d sprinkle in some nutrition science or practical recommendations, but more often than not, our conversations centered around one thing: deliciousness.

Then, like everyone else, my world came to a halt when the COVID-19 pandemic shut everything down. My role at BMC quickly shifted to tasks I could do from home—research, academic writing, and program development. Through this, I discovered a deep interest in systems-level thinking and found comfort in leaning into my introverted tendencies. What can I say—I’m an Aquarius, and honestly, my head is my favorite place to be.

Eventually, I was promoted to Director of Nutrition Innovation and Implementation, the position I hold today. However, I never returned to the office. Instead, I’ve been happily working from home ever since—embracing the perks of sweatpants and avoiding the small talk that once drained me. During this time, I’ve moved from Boston, Massachusetts, to State College, Pennsylvania, then to the Bronx, New York—and now, come July, I’ll be relocating again to Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania.

In addition to discovering a love for research (and fully embracing the work-from-home lifestyle), I used the pandemic to launch a new entrepreneurial venture. My sister and I have always brainstormed ways to improve our financial security—we’ve worked almost every odd job imaginable: home health aide, barista, carpet cleaner, you name it. So, with extra time and a mandate to stay home, we decided to plot world domination… or at least launch a new business.

Teaming up with our dear friend and roommate, we set out to create something that made cooking more personalized and accessible, extending beyond the physical teaching kitchen.

That idea became Rewire Health, a project that has shaped my entrepreneurial focus over the past few years, fueling incredible personal and professional growth. The recipes on the platform are designed with personal preference and ease in mind. They draw on my experience creating content for college students with limited time and equipment, my time in the gym observing that people naturally gravitate towards what is easy (a fundamental survival instinct), and my appreciation for diverse eating patterns and preferences I developed at BMC.

However, selling a digital culinary medicine solution proved challenging, primarily because no one knows what culinary medicine is. Many nutrition professionals still teach nutrition using handouts and plastic food models. So, the idea of introducing an app that teaches cooking skills felt far beyond the scope of what people were used to. We quickly realized that, before selling our product, we first had to sell the concept of culinary medicine itself. From this emerged our Culinary Medicine Experts.

To help spread culinary medicine, we began hosting workshops and training sessions for healthcare professionals. We also started consulting for organizations looking to build culinary medicine programs. This led me to collaborate with the talented Christina Badaracco to offer large-scale pop-up teaching kitchen workshops in conference room settings—bringing together 50 to 150 healthcare professionals to cook and learn side by side. These sessions are not just about cooking; they are about redefining how healthcare professionals engage with nutrition—turning food from an abstract concept into a hands-on, practical tool for patient care.

This brings me to today—March 2025. I’m officially moving on from Rewire Health, streamlining my work and refocusing on my academic dreams (I will update everyone on the progress of Rewire in a future newsletter).

So, what’s next?

Well… nothing! Instead of launching something new, I channeled years of content, lessons, and experiences into a culinary medicine cookbook.

The book is more than just a collection of recipes—it’s a practical resource packed with nutrition insights, adaptable cooking frameworks, and tips to help you personalize meals. These may not be the most complex or groundbreaking recipes I’ve ever developed, but they serve as an archive—a reflection of moments, lessons, and experiences.

I think the entrepreneurial itch is ingrained in my DNA, and I have no doubt I’ll be onto something new soon. But for now, I’m excited to slow down and focus on the things that bring me joy—like working on my PhD, improving my writing skills, and crafting my silly little Substack.

Thank you for reading 😊

This book was made possible by my dear friend and co-author, Christina Badaracco, who shares my passion for entrepreneurship and love for food but has all the executive functioning skills my brain lacks.

My sister, Eva, and my dear friend Julia are the engines behind the machine. From building the app to helping me figure out how to write a cookbook, they’ve done it all. Both are true Swiss Army knives—resourceful, adaptable, and always ready to learn whatever skill the moment requires.

One of my most incredible mentors, Dr. Barbara Corkey—a brilliant, trailblazing scientist—wrote the foreword for my book. She was the first person to recognize my curiosity and entrepreneurial spirit as the makings of a future researcher, and I’m honored to have her words open this project.

Book Acknowledgements

The content of this book has evolved over the past ten years, shaped by the insights and experiences of friends, family, clients, and colleagues—many of whom are acknowledged below.

Thank you to the Andrew Benway, Garrett Thomas, and Paul Tabinowski for your steadfast support as recipe testers and to the Larson, Thomas, Wilde, and Badaracco families for encouraging each of us to pursue our goals. We would also like to thank Mary Weinstein for inspiring the Weinstein children to cook and Grandma Helen for teaching them how. And we thank Susan Badaracco for inspiring Christina to cook and share her love of nutrition with others.

Thank you to all the wonderful people who agreed to test our content, share our story, and support our pursuits, including (but not limited to) Adam Zeitsiff, Adante Hart, Andrew Male, Asim Shakur-DuVall, Caroline Apovian, Chris Sciamanna, Dempsey and Rebecca Marks, Teddy Tran, Colin Zhu, Heidi Davis, Ismail Samad, Jaclyn Albin, Jamie SanFilippo, Jan Ulbrecht, Jeannine Lozier, Jessica Peters, Julia MacLaren, Juliane Miranda, Kayla Guillory, Lynn Fredericks, Lauren Ciszak, Megan Sandel, Melanya Kushla, Michael Hayes, Paige Rizzuto, Patricia Moore, Rasmus Goksor, Roz Freeman, Scott Mitchell, Sherene Chou, Sharon Akabas, Susan Trainor, Susan Veldheer, Thiers Bortot, and Wesley McWhorter.

Recipe Testing

Thank you to the brave friends who tested the book’s contents before it was ready to be tested: Alicia Fletcher, Carl Ayre, JP Gevaudan, Krysten Devan, Laura Schwob, Mary Kruk, Megan Bradson, Rebecca Valdez, and Sarah Howard.

Book Design and Photos

We worked with the best design and media teams!!! Nancy S. Kurnik designed the cover and interior, and Nitya Jain took the front cover and full-page photographs, which Kristina Wolter styled.