Hi there—I’m Casey Morgan, and if you’re just starting out in the kitchen, trust me, you’re in the right place. I’m 36 years old, currently living in Asheville, North Carolina, and I’ve spent the better part of my adult life coaxing flavor out of humble ingredients and convincing people (sometimes myself included!) that you don’t need a fancy culinary degree to make truly good food.
My journey into cooking wasn’t born out of glamour or tradition—it started out of sheer necessity. I grew up in a small town in Indiana, raised by a single mom who worked two jobs. Dinner was often whatever we could throw together with canned beans and a box of something. But I always remember how she made it feel like more than it was. She could stretch a dollar and turn it into something that felt like love on a plate. That stuck with me.
I didn’t go to culinary school. Instead, I learned to cook by messing up—burning rice, overseasoning everything, cutting myself more times than I care to admit. But I loved it. I loved that moment when something finally clicked—when the onions turned just the right shade of gold, or when I made my first real pan sauce and felt like I’d cracked some secret code.
My first job in a kitchen was at a little diner off Route 40. Nothing fancy—just eggs, pancakes, and a griddle that never quite got cleaned properly. But man, did I learn. How to move fast, how to stay calm when thirty tickets are flying in, how to make food that makes people smile, even if it’s just a grilled cheese.
Nowadays, I work part-time as a cooking instructor and spend the rest of my time writing recipes and teaching beginners how to feel comfortable in the kitchen. Because let’s be honest—those first steps can be intimidating. The knife feels too sharp, the stove too hot, and the recipes seem like they were written in code. I’ve been there. I am still there sometimes.
What I care about most is helping people realize that cooking isn’t about perfection. It’s about trying. It’s about messing up and then laughing about it while you eat the too-salty soup anyway. It’s about that weird joy you feel when you finally flip a pancake perfectly. That’s the good stuff.
I love simple flavors, seasonal ingredients, and recipes that don’t require a trip to a specialty market. Give me a good tomato, a little garlic, and some olive oil, and I’m happy. I believe food should be approachable, flexible, and—most importantly—fun.
So whether you’ve never cracked an egg or you’re just tired of takeout, I hope my story and my cooking can help you feel a little more confident in the kitchen. Because if I can do it, so can you. And I’ll be right here, cheering you on.