I don’t chase food trends.
I chase flavor. You won’t find edible glitter in my pantry. I’m not spiralizing anything unless it improves the dish. And I’m not turning dinner into a performance just to keep up with the algorithm.
Look, I get it. Trends can be fun. Butter boards. Pasta chips. The air fryer obsession. It’s entertaining. But what I’ve learned as a chef is this: if it doesn’t make the food taste better, then what’s the point? Flavor should lead. Technique should serve. Everything else is just noise.
I made a video recently showing how I crosshatch hot dogs before grilling. Not because it was viral. Not because it looks cool (though it does). But because it creates better texture. More crispy surface. More caramelization and a better bite. That’s the kind of “trend” I can get behind—one rooted in logic and flavor.
I’ve seen people turn a grilled cheese into a science project.
Foamed cheese, smoked cloches, edible flowers on rye. It might be clever, but it’s not how we actually eat. You and your best friend don’t go out on a Friday night craving a single leaf of lettuce that melts into liquid when it hits your tongue. That kind of performance food belongs in a lab or on a stage—not in the kitchen where real people are hungry, tired, and want to sit down to something that sparks conversations and makes sense. And don’t even get me started on truffle oil.
Food should have a soul. Whether it’s a bowl of guacamole, a burger, or a pot of soup, there should be a reason behind every ingredient and every choice. Not just because it looked good on someone else’s feed.
That doesn’t mean I’m against creativity. I’m all for breaking the rules—when you know why you’re doing it. But creativity without flavor is just theater. And your dinner plate isn’t an audition.
I want home cooks to feel free from the pressure to keep up.
You don’t need a ring light or a viral hook. You need a knife that works, salt you can trust, and the confidence to choose what makes sense for the people you’re feeding.
So here’s my rule: If a trend doesn’t make it taste better, skip it. Do what works. Do what tastes good. And if it ends up looking great too? Even better. And hey—if you’re still chasing trends, I get it. We’ve all been tempted by something that looked great online but flopped on the plate. But if this post gave you permission to cook more honestly, that’s all I could hope for.
Want to see that hot dog video?
