
How cooking made me a better designer
And why I cook differently for people I genuinely care about.

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The parallel
I cook the same way I design, but I only recently realised why. I got into cooking properly in 2020, starting the way most people do, following recipes and not deviating, not experimenting, just trying to understand what made a dish work before I felt confident enough to make it my own. It's the same process I use in design. Study the masters, understand the fundamentals, shamelessly take inspiration from the best work I can find, and only once I've absorbed enough do I start building my own voice.
The feeling behind it
But the parallel that strikes me more deeply than the process is the feeling behind it. I notice I cook differently depending on who I'm cooking for. When I'm making something for someone I genuinely care about, there's a different level of attention that comes naturally. The way the plate is presented, how carefully I balance the flavours, all of that becomes more considered.
I spent nearly a year perfecting carbonara during my A levels in the UK, making it almost every day for lunch, and what I learned is that a dish that simple has no room to hide. Every variable, the pasta timing, the heat of the pan, the ratio of egg to cheese, affects the outcome. You can't fake care in a dish like that. BTW, I made a video about carbonara-journey of mine, simply click on the video to your left to watch it! (or scroll back up if you are on your phone.)
What this means for my work
I feel the same way about design. When I genuinely care about the person who will experience my work, the details take care of themselves. Not because I force it, but because caring naturally makes you more attentive, more patient, more willing to go back and fix the thing that isn't quite right yet.
That's what separates work that just looks good from work that actually feels good. You can usually sense when something was made with love, even if you can't explain why.
How cooking made me a better designer
And why I cook differently for people I genuinely care about.
And why I cook differently for people I genuinely care about.


The parallel
I cook the same way I design, but I only recently realised why. I got into cooking properly in 2020, starting the way most people do, following recipes and not deviating, not experimenting, just trying to understand what made a dish work before I felt confident enough to make it my own. It's the same process I use in design. Study the masters, understand the fundamentals, shamelessly take inspiration from the best work I can find, and only once I've absorbed enough do I start building my own voice.
The feeling behind it
But the parallel that strikes me more deeply than the process is the feeling behind it. I notice I cook differently depending on who I'm cooking for. When I'm making something for someone I genuinely care about, there's a different level of attention that comes naturally. The way the plate is presented, how carefully I balance the flavours, all of that becomes more considered.
I spent nearly a year perfecting carbonara during my A levels in the UK, making it almost every day for lunch, and what I learned is that a dish that simple has no room to hide. Every variable, the pasta timing, the heat of the pan, the ratio of egg to cheese, affects the outcome. You can't fake care in a dish like that. BTW, I made a video about carbonara-journey of mine, simply click on the video to your left to watch it! (or scroll back up if you are on your phone.)
What this means for my work
I feel the same way about design. When I genuinely care about the person who will experience my work, the details take care of themselves. Not because I force it, but because caring naturally makes you more attentive, more patient, more willing to go back and fix the thing that isn't quite right yet.
That's what separates work that just looks good from work that actually feels good. You can usually sense when something was made with love, even if you can't explain why.
The parallel
I cook the same way I design, but I only recently realised why. I got into cooking properly in 2020, starting the way most people do, following recipes and not deviating, not experimenting, just trying to understand what made a dish work before I felt confident enough to make it my own. It's the same process I use in design. Study the masters, understand the fundamentals, shamelessly take inspiration from the best work I can find, and only once I've absorbed enough do I start building my own voice.
The feeling behind it
But the parallel that strikes me more deeply than the process is the feeling behind it. I notice I cook differently depending on who I'm cooking for. When I'm making something for someone I genuinely care about, there's a different level of attention that comes naturally. The way the plate is presented, how carefully I balance the flavours, all of that becomes more considered.
I spent nearly a year perfecting carbonara during my A levels in the UK, making it almost every day for lunch, and what I learned is that a dish that simple has no room to hide. Every variable, the pasta timing, the heat of the pan, the ratio of egg to cheese, affects the outcome. You can't fake care in a dish like that. BTW, I made a video about carbonara-journey of mine, simply click on the video to your left to watch it! (or scroll back up if you are on your phone.)
What this means for my work
I feel the same way about design. When I genuinely care about the person who will experience my work, the details take care of themselves. Not because I force it, but because caring naturally makes you more attentive, more patient, more willing to go back and fix the thing that isn't quite right yet.
That's what separates work that just looks good from work that actually feels good. You can usually sense when something was made with love, even if you can't explain why.
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