“Sometimes the little things in life mean the most”
~ Ellen Hopkins

There is something strangely humbling about realising that one of the things you miss most after moving halfway across the world is just the most basic things.

I took having a kitchen for granted, but now, where I have a dorm without one and I am unable to cook for myself, I truly miss it sooooo much 🥲

I know, of all the things I could miss, I miss my kitchen the most.

Not being able to see my family whenever I want, and not sleeping in my own bed, would also be at the top of the list, but maybe it’s the fact that I’ve been eating plain rice, tofu and boiled vegetables without salt for the past week that makes me miss the time I took to do even the simplest of dishes.

The kitchen was a place where I could open the fridge, look at what I had left, and randomly decide to make something, and only recently did I realise how much I took that little freedom for granted.

The ability to chop some vegetables.
Throw something into a pan.
Add whatever spices I feel like.
Mess it up slightly.
And somehow end up with a meal.

There is something so comforting about that freedom, which apparently I couldn’t appreciate until it disappeared.

Food in the canteen:

My first week in China, surviving on canteen food, has taught me something super important:

Plain rice and boiled vegetables can only excite you for so long 🫠

I have been trying to stay positive. I knew before coming here that not having a kitchen would be an adjustment. I knew that I would have to figure out a completely different way of eating and that I wouldn’t be able to cook whenever inspiration struck.

But knowing something and actually experiencing it are two very different things.

So far, my meals have mainly consisted of some variation of plain rice, glass noodles, vegetables and tofu.

Again, and again.

And don’t get me wrong, I love rice. I genuinely do.

But I think there is a limit to how many times you can eat plain rice before you start fantasising about every single meal you’ve ever taken for granted.

At this point, all I can think about is a proper stir-fry, or my sister’s home-cooked meals. A big bowl of something warm and flavourful. And especially some stuffed pumpkin ↓

Literally anything with a bit of texture and seasoning, because apparently when you say you are vegan it automatically means that you don’t want spices either.

It’s funny because before leaving, I was so focused on all the big things about moving abroad.

Would I make friends?
Would I enjoy my Master’s?
Would I understand how everything worked?
Would I settle into a new routine?
Would I be able to balance studying and creating content?

I thought about the big, dramatic changes, but I didn’t really think about how much I would miss something as ordinary as standing in a kitchen on a random afternoon, wondering what I could make with the vegetables that were about to go bad.

The little things:

I don’t think we realise how much comfort exists inside the things we do every day. The things that become so normal that we stop noticing them. From having access to a kitchen to cooking for someone you love and even being able to choose exactly what goes into your food.

These things can feel completely ordinary when they are always available to us. Until one day, they aren’t, and suddenly, they become the things you miss the most.

I’ve been thinking about that a lot this week, if you couldn’t tell from all the Instagram posts, about how easy it is to take the simple things for granted.

Not because we aren’t grateful, but because when something is always there, our brains stop treating it as something special, and it just becomes normal.

I think that’s why moving somewhere new can be such a strange experience. You leave behind all these little routines that you didn’t even realise were part of who you were. And suddenly you’re forced to look at your life differently.

Things that once felt boring become comforting, and things that once felt ordinary become precious.

But I think there is something quite beautiful about that, because maybe appreciating something doesn’t always mean having to lose it forever. Sometimes we just need to step away from it long enough to finally see it properly.

Although preferably, we can learn that lesson without having to survive four months on plain rice, which might be what I might have to do since I have four months to go before I go back home for the holidays.

Please wish me luck.

On the bright side, though, I think I might have found a way to get my hands on some soy yoghurt, which is genuinely exciting me more than it probably should. What can I say, the standards have changed very quickly around here 😂

A few weeks ago, I was casually deciding which yoghurt to use in a recipe, now I’m celebrating the possibility of finding any soy yoghurt.

Let’s call that character development

And perhaps that is another thing this experience is teaching me: that you really don’t need much to feel grateful. Sometimes all it takes is finding the one thing you’ve been craving after a week of eating the same meals.

Tomato-tofu rice:

So while I’ve been sitting here in China, eating another bowl of rice and tofu, I keep finding myself thinking about something I made shortly before leaving. Something that was incredibly simple, but something I probably didn’t think twice about when I was making it.

And now?

I would do almost anything to eat it again (trust me, I am desperate for some flavour!!!)

The thing is, before coming to China, I had been thinking about Chinese food and all the dishes I was excited to eventually try. One dish that particularly caught my attention was the classic combination of tomato and egg.

I loved the idea, to be honest, since it is all about simple ingredients coming together to create something comforting and flavourful.

So, before leaving, I decided to play around with that idea in my own kitchen. Of course, I wanted to make it plant-based, and because I am physically incapable of leaving a recipe alone, I also wanted to add my own little twist.

I used tofu instead of egg.
Added vegetables.
And rather than serving everything separately, mixed the rice directly into the tomato and tofu mixture.

The best part was how everything came together in one pan.

Simple. Quick. Comforting. And most importantly...

FLAVOURFUL AF.

And now that I can’t make it, naturally, it’s all I can think about. But isn’t that always how it works?

I haven’t found anything quite like it here yet, and honestly, I think that makes me miss it even more. It’s funny how a meal doesn’t have to be complicated to mean something. It doesn’t need twenty ingredients. It doesn’t need to take three hours. It doesn’t need to look like something you would order at a fancy restaurant.

Sometimes all you need is tomato, rice, tofu, a few vegetables and the ability to cook them in a pan. And apparently, that is a privilege I am never taking for granted again (TRUST ME!!!!)

So, while I sit here dreaming about the meals I used to casually make back home, I thought this was the perfect recipe to share. A little reminder to myself that some of the simplest things can bring us the most comfort. And hopefully, if you have access to a kitchen and are currently wondering what to make with the random vegetables sitting in your fridge, you can make this for me.

Please, eat an extra spoonful in my honour 🤭

I might not be able to cook this right now, but I hope that if you try it, it brings you the same comfort it brought me. And maybe, just maybe, it will make you appreciate your kitchen a tiny bit more too.

recipe down below ⬇️

I make so many beginnings there never will be an end.
~ Louisa May Alcott

If I’ve learned anything these past few weeks, it is that:

ADULTING IS NOT FOR THE FAINT-HEARTED

This week has been more of a rollercoaster than I’ve experienced since I finished my bachelor's. Literally, the moment I thought I had a minute to breathe, life was like:

nope, here’s another thing to take care of…
and another…
and another..

I’ve had no time to properly sit down and breathe until today. Which is the only (and probably last) day I am completely free before diving into uni-life again tomorrow.

I know it sounds grim to say, but today might be the last day of free time I have before classes are in session, and I, once again, turn into a student. Which only means what used to be “free time” is turning into “homework getting done time”, “readings getting read on time-time", “going to classes time”… And I don’t know how ready I am for student life anymore ↓

Before China:

When I started writing this, I was in the middle of packing. Because in old-fashioned Oxana-style, even though I was travelling in less than four days, I still hadn’t started packing.

Oops.

I think the reason was not only because I tend to pack last minute, but this time also because a part of me was, in some way, trying to avoid it too, because starting meant that this whole thing was becoming real.

For some time, I’ve been talking about moving to China. I announced it on Instagram and here too ↓

I’ve been nervous and excited. All I could think about was whether I would truly enjoy the course, whether I would make any new friends, and how I was going to survive without a kitchen and relying on canteen food for the foreseeable future.

And yet, it wasn’t until I arrived in China that it all started to feel very real, and not like something that was happening in the future.

But even as I stressed about packing my life and moving to a new country, the universe decided the week before I left for China would be anything but smooth.

Because on Saturday (a week before I had to leave), my phone decided to call it quits. It just went black and wouldn't turn back on.

I tried recharging, updating it through the computer, and restarting it, but NOTHING!!!

No matter what my mum and I tried, it simply refused to come back to life. And with less than a week before I’m meant to travel halfway across the world, I can confidently say this was not the timing I had envisioned. My mum was even more stressed than I was, which I completely understand. She wasn't exactly thrilled about sending her daughter to the other side of the world without a reliable way to contact her.

So we spent the whole weekend going between repair shops, trying different things and hoping someone would magically bring my phone back to life, but in the end nobody could.

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So eventually, after a lot of convincing from my mum, I had to get a new phone. I know it might seem petty, but hear me out!

I have to admit that accepting expensive gifts still makes me very uncomfortable. I don’t know why, but the only way I agreed to my mum buying me a phone was if I could consider it an early Christmas and birthday present combined, from all the family.

TLDR: in the midst of all the packing chaos of choosing what to pack, getting a new phone, sorting all the paperwork and trying to sort out my life before leaving, on Monday I managed to get on the flight to start my new life in China.

Arriving in China:

It’s been almost a week since I’ve arrived in China, but I still feel like a fish out of water. Not only because in the whole university we are only around 50-ish international students, but also because this living experience has been so different than I imagined.

Monday morning I woke up nervous to travel. But thankfully the first flight went super well. But the second flight, well, while I was relieved that at least the vegan food was decent, the level of comfort was 1 ⭐️. No matter how much I tried I was unable to sleep anything during the flight, so when I arrived at 9 am in Beijing, I was so sleepy that my brain was just not working.

At least the chinese students who volunteered to help us international students settle in where so nice, and made everything so much easier. As soon as I got my dorm keys, I went into my room chatted with some of my new roomates and was ready to take a big FAT NAP.

Buttttt, I pushed through because I actually wanted to sleep tonight, and decided to pack instead, and that night I went to sleep earlier, ready for the intro activities for the week ahead.

Intro-days:

The days truly have flown by. The first day it was so nice to meet everyone. Unfortunately for me the second day I slept so bad (probably still jet lag) that even thought the group activities where interesting, my mind was not in it.

The third day, however, I finally manged to sleep well, and go on a nice easy run in the morning, which I think helped my mood a lot. Which only made the activities we did that day even better.

Then the fourth and final day has to be the best one of all the days. We basically did a picture scavenger hunt, where we went to the nearest “city” (aka. 40 minutes away by taxi) and where divided into groups to go to different places and take fun pictures together. And after 6 hours or more together ended the night with a BBQ and a karaoke night. I mean sure it was tiring, but it was truly the best way to end the first intro week.

ps: also I ate my body weight on edaname, because that’s basically all they had for me 😅

Speaking of food, the canteen has been a whole other thign I’ve beent trying to get used to and figure out. To be honest, there is not a lot of options, because everything is either mixed with meat or egg or butter. To be honest I’ve been struggling to find anything other than boiled rice, veggies and tofu (which is basically what I’ve been eating since I arived).

I even had to get creative with my breakfast, since when I tried the soy milk the first day, I got an allergic reaction and I don’t know why.

But there is hope!!!!

Because I think I’ve found somethings I can order online that I can potentially have as breakfast options, so hopefully I can figure out how ordering to campus works soon, to see if I can get them send here.

Closing thoughts:

Despite all the ups and downs, I am very excited. Excited to start my Master and study something that combines so many of the things I’ve become passionate about over the past few years.

I’m excited to experience a completely new culture, and if I can try new food too.
I’m excited to meet people from all over the world and make friendships that I never would have had the opportunity to make otherwise.
I’m excited to hopefully learn some Chinese.

But also super excited to bring you all with me.

I know I have been a bit absent the past few weeks. Not making as much content as I would have liked. Trust me when I say it was eating me up inside too. But I’ve just not have the time or actual brain energy to do much these past few days, and I am so sorry 😔 but just know that no matter what I will keep making content.

I don’t yet how this new chapter is going to look like, I am still trying to figure out how to balance everything. But I know for sure that I don’t want to stop creating.

I want to keep making recipes (even if I will have to wait until I am back home to test them).
I want to keep writing here.
I want to start being more consistent in uploading YouTube vlogs.
I want to share recipes I’ve been wanting to share before I came.
I want to show you guys my experience of what it’s like to study in China.

But I also want to be a good student.
I want to actually experience where I am instead of constantly thinking about how to turn everything into content.

And I think finding that balance is going to be one of the biggest things I have to learn.

I still don’t know how I will manage, I just know that it will eventually figure itself out, because I am going to try and take it one step at a time.

I don’t know exactly what my content will look like now that I am a full time student again, or how often I will be able to post, or how much time I will have for Youtube.

But I know I want to try to give it my best, as well as enjoy this experience.

Matcha cookie blondies:

Speaking of experience, something I had to do before I left was to finally develop a recipe for some blondies and brownies (don’t worry does are coming soon…).

The thing is that lately I had been seeing so many brownies and blondies on my feed that it finally made me realise that I had to get myself working on some brownies and blondie recipes too.

I don’t know how I’ve managed to spend this much time developing recipes and somehow avoided one of the most iconic categories of baked goods 😂

So obviously spend the last of my month back home trying to fix that, by making so many brownies and blondies that my family got tired of trying so many.

Because what started as:

I should probably make a brownie recipe or two…

Quickly turned into a testing marathon. I did it all:

Fudgy brownies
Chewy brownies
Sourdough brownies
Brownies without sourdough
Blondies with different ratios of flour and fat
Blondies with beans.
Blondies with banana.
Blondies that were too cakey.
Blondies that were too soft.
Blondies that looked perfect until I cut into them.

Basically, I became a brownie/blondie addict. But I think this is exactly why I love RnD so much. You start with one idea, and suddenly you’re down a rabbit hole trying to understand why changing one ingredient by 10 grams completely changes the texture of the entire bake.

And after all that experimenting, I thought there was no better way to finally start sharing these recipes than with something that feels particularly appropriate for where I am right now, some matcha and digestive biscuit blondies 🍵

Why? Well because matcha feels perfect to share as I am in the land where matcha was first discovered. I know most people associate matcha with Japan, but its roots are in China.

And these ones are soft and fudgy, with that lovely earthy matcha flavour, little bits of digestive biscuit throughout, and just enough sweetness to let the matcha actually shine.

And yes, there is banana and sourdough in there too, because apparently I cannot make anything without finding a way to sneak sourdough into it these days.

However, as I’ve said this is just the beginning of all the brownie/blondie recipes I will share with you guys. Trust me when I say there is a lot more in the archives that are waiting for you to try them. And waiting for me to make them again as soon as I am back home.

In the meantime, I will be here in China, dreaming of these matcha cookie blondies, and wishing I could taste them again.

recipe down below ⬇️

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七転び八起き
(Fall down seven times, get up eight)
~ Japanese proverb

I used to hate failing.

Like, really hate it.

For a very long time, I was obsessed with getting things right the first time. I wanted everything I did to be good, preferably perfect, and ideally better than what everyone else was doing.

In my mind, perfection was always the goal. I had to get the best grades, do all my homework on time, and spend every hour studying or practising piano, guitar, or whatever new hobby I was taking up.

Resting was unnecessary. Every hour, every minute, every second had to be productive.

This mindset eventually broke me. Chasing perfection caused me to lose myself and made me miserable in the process. Because when perfection becomes the standard, anything less than perfect automatically feels like failure.

A mistake isn’t just a mistake anymore. It becomes proof that you’re not good enough.

A bad grade becomes proof that you’re not smart enough.
A recipe that doesn’t work becomes proof that you don’t know what you’re doing.
A project that doesn’t perform becomes proof that you’re not talented.

And suddenly you’re not just disappointed about the thing that went wrong. You’re questioning yourself entirely (more about failure ↓)

Unperfectly perfect:

I know it’s crazy to say this, but the idea that you had to be bad at something before being good at it was so foreign to me.

I had to learn, the hard way, slowly and somewhat painfully, that perfection is not only impossible, but also a pretty terrible goal to build your life around. Because what happens when you finally achieve the thing you thought would make you feel perfect?

The real answer is: NOTHING ↓

At least it didn’t for me. For me, reaching one thing just meant that I had to move the goalpost, because there was always another thing to improve, or another person to compare myself to that I just had to be better than. Or even another version of myself that I thought I should be at that point.

That’s how, somewhere along the way, I forgot that I was actually allowed to just be a person figuring things out.

That it was okay for me not to be perfect, because I was human.

Failure and success:

There is something I think we forget about failure. We often see it as the opposite of success, but in reality it is part of the process of getting there (whatever you define success as).

You don’t fail instead of succeeding. You fail your way towards succeeding.

It’s taken me a few years, but I have slowly started to become comfortable with mistakes I make. Don’t get me wrong, I still get frustrated. I still have moments where I want to punch my computer because I don’t like how I’ve edited something, or sometimes I have moments where all I want to do is scream because something I’ve spent hours making failed completely.

But at least now I’m better at stepping back and not immediately thinking, “Why am I so bad at this?” and instead focusing on what I can learn from my mistakes.

I know it’s nothing new, but that tiny change in perspective truly makes such a difference.

It’s no longer all about trying to be perfect or the best, but simply about trying and allowing myself to be bad at something, too.

It’s now much more about trying something even though I’m not sure it will work. It’s about becoming okay with spending hours on something only for it not to turn out how I first imagined.

But it’s also about allowing myself to get frustrated (because I am allowed to feel that emotion), and instead of freaking out, taking a breath, figuring out what went wrong, and trying again.

And if I have to be honest, some of the best things I’ve made have come after something went completely wrong. I know it sounds cliché. I used to cringe when people told me that the best things in their lives happened when they least expected them, but since experiencing it myself, I can only say it is so true.

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I think failure isn't the fact that something doesn’t turn out right, but the fact that you decide not to try again because you're afraid of failing again.

This doesn’t mean that failing will ever be comfortable. Personally, I still don’t like failing. But I’ve become more scared of constantly wondering “what if” than of failing. I don’t want to be 80, imagining what life would have been like if I had actually done X or Y. I want to be an 80-year-old woman looking back, happy that I chose to act rather than wonder.

I won’t be celebrating every failure any time soon, but I won’t be seeing failure as something I need to avoid at all costs.

I’d much rather be someone who tries, messes up, learns, adapts and tries again than someone who never starts because they’re terrified of getting it wrong. Even if it takes me seven months to get there.

Japanese soufflé cheesecake:

That is approximately how much time it has taken me to get to this exact moment. After seven months of testing, tweaking, failing, starting over, and questioning whether I would ever figure it out, I finally made a fully vegan Japanese soufflé cheesecake.

It was a recipe I couldn’t find anywhere, so instead of waiting for someone else to do it, I decided to make it myself.

And honestly?

It has been a rollercoaster.

I started experimenting with a vegan Japanese soufflé cheesecake back in February, and since there was no published recipe online to use as a starting point, I had to figure it out myself.

And let me tell you that it was not exactly a smooth seven months.

There were cheesecakes that didn’t rise.
Cheesecakes that rose and then dramatically collapsed.
Cheesecakes that cracked.
Cheesecakes that were somehow both undercooked and dry at the same time
(which I still don’t fully understand)

After three months and several failed attempts, all I wanted to do was cry. There were batches that looked promising in the oven and absolutely betrayed me the moment I took them out.

I had to eat so many weird “cheesecakes” so as not to waste them the failed batches that pretty much made me hate cheesecakes even more.

Despite all of this, every single test taught me something. I am not talking only about learning about starch composition, or how different vegan cream cheeses behave under heat. I didn’t just learn more about how mixing the ingredients or the baking time can change how the cheesecake sets.

What this whole process taught me most was that sometimes, I just need to take a break, breathe and try again.

So yeah, I did take a two-month break after three months of trying to make the Japanese cheesecake. But then July came, and I discovered what might be the best vegan cream cheese at a random cafe in Copenhagen.

I did some research and reached out to the company, which kindly sent me a tub of their cream cheese. Suddenly, I was so excited to start trying to make this damn cheesecake again.

Not only because the cheesecake tastes amazing, but also because it was soy-based and heat-stable (which not many vegan cream cheeses are).

And for something as delicate as a Japanese souffle cheesecake, heat stability matters a lot. The cheesecake needs to develop enough structure in the oven to rise and hold its shape while remaining incredibly light and delicate.

So as soon as I got the cream cheese, I went back into the kitchen, ready to try again, until eventually I pulled this one out of the oven.

It was the first time my cheesecake had risen and hadn’t dramatically collapsed. And cutting into it, as I held my breath, nervous that it might not have set properly, I almost cried seeing the first slice coming out almost perfectly.

I won’t lie and say that it is as perfect as those you get in Japan, but for a vegan version, it is pretty damn close.

Will I be improving this recipe further?

Absolutely.

I don’t think I’ll ever stop tweaking this particular recipe because the more I bake, the more I learn, which I continue to apply to new things I try to bake, making the final results even better.

But as it is right now, this version is the one that I can finally say I am deeply proud of how it turned out.

Behind this recipe is a lot of time and patience invested in getting it to where it is right now. It isn’t perfect. But honestly, who is?

But I am still very proud of it, because it also shows how I kept showing up even when I felt like giving up.

So this recipe is more than just another cheesecake recipe. It is proof that it is not about getting it right the first time, but about being willing to try again. To fail seven times, but try again eight. To be proof to yourself that you can do it, even if it doesn’t feel like you can.

A few months ago, I would have never thought there could be such a thing as a vegan Japanese soufflé cheesecake, yet here we are. And I only think it can get better from here.

recipe down below ⬇️

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Two weeks.

I officially have two weeks before I pack up my life and move to China for my Master’s, and I don’t think my brain has quite caught up with that sentence yet.

Last week I went to the introduction days and finally got to meet some of my future classmates, which was honestly amazing, and I can’t wait to see them all again in China ↓

But even if I had so much fun getting to know my new classmates, the introduction days also made everything feel much more real too.

Before, the idea that I was moving to China had felt like this distant future event. Like something that was coming but was still Oxana’s future problem to deal with. It was something that would happen eventually, and that I still had time to process what it actually meant.

But now it feels like present Oxana’s problem. Suddenly packing my life into a suitcase feels so overwhelming that I don’t know where to start. So many new things are quickly happening at the same time:

Moving to a continent I’ve never even been to before.
Living in a whole different culture I know little about.
Going to live in a country where I don’t speak the language.
Starting a Master’s degree that I feel like I am an imposter in.
Meeting completely new people who I feel are already so much smarter than me.

I am scared of how I am going to balance everything and what my new routine will be like. I will be living at a student dorm. I will be studying a freaking master's, doing classes that are very out of my comfort zone.

And, perhaps most importantly for the person who has built half her personality around cooking and baking...

I won’t even have a kitchen. 🥲

A new reality:

The dorms have rooms and a common area, but no kitchen, which I am still trying to mentally process. I mean, what am I supposed to do with all my baking ideas?! What am I supposed to do when I need to unwind, and I want to cook something?!

And as someone who also has many allergies and food intolerances, I don’t know how much the university canteen can tailor my food.

I know that once I am there I will eventually figure it out somehow. I mean I always do. But there is still the other part that scares me, perhaps a little bit more.

What if I’m not good enough? What if the Master’s is harder than I expect? What if I struggle to keep up? What if I don’t make friends? What if I feel lonely? What if I can’t figure out how to balance studying, creating content, exploring, travelling and just... being a person?

I know I’ve left home before when I moved away for my Bachelor’s, so technically this isn’t my first time starting over. But at the same time, this is completely different.

This time I am not moving to a place I know a bit about, or that is close to home. This time I am moving to another freaking continent, where I have never been before. A new city where I will be miles and miles away from everything I know.

And if I’m being honest, thinking about it for too long makes me so anxious.

I am scared:

There are so many unknowns that my brain wants to solve everything before I’ve even arrived. I want to know:

what my routine will look like.
how I’m going to make friends.
how the course will go.
what I’ll be eating.
how I’ll keep creating.
whether I’ll love it.
whether I’m making the right choice.

Basically I want to know everything.

But I obviously can’t. It’s impossible to know the future. So instead of spiralling, I’ve been trying to remind myself that I don’t need to know exactly how everything is going to work out, but that I just need to take it one step at a time.

Like I always say: Baby steps!

Before trying to figure everything out, I still have a few steps to take. I still need to:

Pack the suitcase.
Get on the plane.
Settle into the dorm.
Go to the first class.
Have the introduction week.
Figure out the canteen…

I just have to breathe. To focus on the now, instead of the then.

The thing is, most times we make these huge life changes feel even scarier by trying to mentally live through the entire experience before we’ve even started it.

Like we already feel like we know what will happen even when we haven’t taken the first step in our new journey. And suddenly we might even get paralysed by the fear of the unknown and might not even be able to take the first step anymore ↓

I am excited:

So yeah. I am pretty scared, but underneath all that fear I am also excited. And that’s what I am trying to focus on. I mean, how cool it is that I’m going to Asia for the first time.

How cool is it that I’m going to study something that genuinely combines so many things I’ve become passionate about over the past few years.

How amazing is it that I’m going to meet people from completely different backgrounds, and experience a part of the world I’ve never experienced before.

And how amazing is it that I’m going to get to share some of it with all of you ↓

I don’t know exactly what my content is going to look like when I’m there. I don’t know how often I’ll post, what I’ll film, or how I’m going to make recipes without a kitchen. But we will figure it out together.

I know it would be lovely if I could know everything with more certainty, but I am trying to be okay with the fact that this next chapter doesn’t need to be perfectly planned before it has started.

And even though right now everything feels so overwhelming, strangely enough, it also feels right. I can’t really explain it, but there’s this little voice inside, underneath all the anxiety, that tells me I’m supposed to go. That maybe this is exactly the kind of uncomfortable, unfamiliar experience that I need.

Blueberry crumble muffin cookies:

Speaking of unfamiliar things. A few months ago, I bought these blueberry crumble muffins I found at the Amsterdam airport out of nowhere.

I’ve never been a blueberry muffin girlie. I never got the hype around them. Maybe it was because I never really had them as a child, due to my food allergies, or maybe because I prefer strawberries or raspberries over blueberries. Either way, as I was waiting for a flight, something in me just was compelled to buy one to try.

And oh my god, I think I get the hype now.

Perhaps it was that these muffins reminded me of the texture of a childhood snack I used to have, or perhaps it was the fact that you could actually taste the blueberries and not just straight up sugar. But when I returned to the Amsterdam airport, I knew that the first thing I wanted was to buy one to take home.

And since I love turning everything into a cookie, I knew they just had to be the August cookie flavour because not only are blueberries everywhere right now, but also because as autumn slowly creeps in, things like crumbles, pies, and cinnamon buns become things I start craving again.

Maybe it is also the fact that I am an autumn girlie at heart, but I just love the cosy flavours that autumn brings with it.

I know, I know. It’s not autumn YET, but I honestly feel these cookies are the perfect middle ground. Still bright and fruity enough for August, but with that warm cinnamon crumble that feels like a little preview of what is coming soon.

Even when life feels uncertain (like right now), developing my own recipes still gives me something I can pour my energy into. Something that brings me comfort when I need it most.

Even when life feels uncertain (like right now), developing my own recipes still gives me something I can pour my energy into. Something that brings me comfort when I need it most.

I might have a lot of things that I have to deal with before I move, but I just couldn’t set time aside to turn a blueberry crumble muffin into a crunchy-on-the-outside, chewy-on-the-inside cookie, filled with juicy blueberries and a cinnamon crumble on top.

Priorities, you know? 😂

Yes, I’m scared and excited, and probably overthinking everything. But I also believe I’m ready to see where this new adventure to China takes me.

And if you’re reading this while you might be beginning a new chapter in your life, just know that you don’t have to have it all figured out either. Even if you feel completely unprepared like me, you and I can still take the next step.

Because sometimes, the fact that something feels a little scary is simply proof that it matters.

Anyway... in the meantime I’ll be over here eating these cookies and pretending I have my life together. Would you like to join in? 😜

recipe down below ⬇️

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And speaking of pancakes, if you have been following me for a while, then you know that about a year ago, I accidentally started one of my favourite little traditions.

On the last day of every month, I make pancakes.

No special occasion needed, but just because (these are some of my favourite ones ↓)

As you also know, most mornings you’ll find me eating my usual yoghurt bowl (which I genuinely don’t think I’ll ever get bored of), but pancakes are one of those breakfasts that always feel a little bit more special.

The only problem is... they take longer to make, and somehow when life gets busy, I just feel like I don’t have time to make them. So I decided to force myself to take one day of the month to not rush my breakfast and enjoy it instead.

And now it’s become this tiny ritual that I genuinely look forward to. Not only because I love pancakes, but because they force me to slow down. Plus, there’s something really nice about spending an extra fifteen minutes making breakfast instead of rushing through the morning.

Maybe we all need little traditions like that. Small moments that don’t really achieve anything spectacular, but quietly make life feel a bit sweeter.

And this month I had been craving one of my favourite childhood combos:

chocolate + orange aka. basically Jaffa Cakes 🍊🍫

For some reason I’d been thinking about that chocolate-orange combination for days, so naturally I did what I always do and turned it into pancakes.

Chocolate pancakes, layered with creamy yoghurt and orange jam, then stacked like a tiny breakfast cake. Honestly... I wasn’t sure how they’d turn out because protein pancakes can sometimes become a little... let’s say bouncy 😅 But these stayed unbelievably fluffy, soft and chocolatey in the best way.

So whether it’s the last day of the month or just a random Tuesday when you fancy slowing down for a little while, I hope you’ll give these a try, because who knows... maybe pancake day (whenever that is for you) will become your favourite little tradition too. 🤎🧡

sweet · 2-3 servings · high protein

1. In a measuring jug, combine the 180 g soy milk, 22 g orange juice and 15 g lemon juice. Leave for 5 minutes to curdle.

2. In a large bowl, whisk together the 95 g oat flour, 50 g protein powder, 12 g cocoa powder, 18 g cornflour, 7 g baking powder, 1 g bicarbonate of soda and 2 g salt.

3. Add the 35 g soy yoghurt, the curdled milk mixture and the 1 tsp vanilla extract (if using) to the dry ingredients. Whisk until completely smooth.

4. Let the batter rest for 10 minutes. This allows the oat flour to fully hydrate, producing a smoother, fluffier pancake. If the batter has thickened too much after resting, stir in 10–15 g extra soy milk until it slowly ribbons from a spoon.

5. Heat a non-stick frying pan over medium-low heat.

6. Divide the batter into 4 equal portions. Pour one portion into the pan and cook for 3–4 minutes, or until bubbles appear across the surface and the edges begin to set. Flip carefully and cook for another 2 minutes. Repeat with the remaining batter.

7. To assemble each serving, place one pancake on a plate and spread over half of the soy yoghurt for that serving. Spoon over half of the orange marmalade, then top with a second pancake.

8. Finish with another dollop of soy yoghurt, another spoonful of orange marmalade, and garnish with fresh orange zest and orange zest or cocoa nibs, if you want.

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“You can do anything, but not everything.”
~ David Allen

I just want to have time to breathe.

Lately, life has felt a little bit like trying to juggle ten balls while someone keeps throwing you eleven more. Every morning I wake up with a list of things I want to get done, convinced that today will finally be the day I catch up. And somehow, every evening, I still end up feeling behind and disappointed in myself.

Maybe someone out there will know exactly what that feels like.

It’s not that I’m actually doing nothing, but quite the opposite. It feels like every area of my life is demanding my attention all at once, but I can’t keep my focus in any of them.

I’m trying to finish my nutrition course, and while I’m incredibly proud that I finally completed one of the biggest assignments last week, I still have my extended essay to finish, plus another three major coursework projects before I’m done.

At the same time, I’m trying to prepare for moving halfway across the world. I still can’t quite believe I can say that in just a few weeks I’ll be packing my life into another suitcase and moving to China for my master’s ↓.

As exciting as that sounds, I don’t think anyone quite prepares you for everything that happens before you actually get there:

Finding somewhere to live.
Sorting out the visa situation.
Paying tuition.
Keeping up with scholarship applications.
Collecting paperwork that somehow always seems to require another piece of paperwork before you can even start.

Adulting really is harder than anyone can ever tell you. At the moment, I truly feel like I spend more time filling in forms than actually living my life.

And somewhere in between all of that, I am trying to keep up with creating as much content as I can too.

Creative slump:

If I’m honest, the content I create has been weighing on me a little recently.

I have pages and pages of ideas written in my notes app.
Recipes I want to test.
Videos I need to start editing.
Stories I want to tell.

But every time I look at everything I want to do, my brain somehow convinces me they’re too simple or too ordinary or not interesting enough.

At least I’ve been keeping up with Instagram, but then I look at my YouTube channel and realise it’s been over a month since my last upload.

I have multiple vlogs sitting on my hard drive waiting to be edited. Waiting to be shared.

Then I have recipes I need to write down and upload here too. Some that I still need to upload that I haven’t yet.

And let’s not talk about TikTok, which honestly I can’t remember the last time I uploaded anything there. And it’s not that I don’t want to, because I have so many TikToks that only exist as half-finished clips on my hard drive that I’ve been meaning to share for over four months now.

@oxana.dcMiss Germany 🫣 Should I continue doing lunch and breakfast with me or do you guys prefer what I eat in à day videos ???? #vegantiktok #lunchideas #cevapcici #tryingfood #foodreview

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With all of these things I want to do that I haven’t managed to do, I can’t help feeling like I’m somehow letting all of you down.

I know that’s probably not true (or at least I really hope it’s not)

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I know that most probably none of you is sitting there with a calendar counting how many days it’s been since my last upload. But I guess I have this strange habit of measuring myself against impossible expectations that no one but me is expecting.

I convince myself that if I’m not constantly posting, constantly improving, constantly growing, then somehow I’m falling behind. It’s a trap one easily falls into.

It’s funny because I spend so much time telling other people to slow down, be kinder to themselves, and to stop comparing themselves, yet I’m the worst at following my own advice. But I guess that’s human nature for you ↓.

Stressful weeks:

I think that’s partly why the last couple of weeks have felt heavier than usual. It seems like stress has been creeping into every corner of life.

And it doesn’t just stay in my head, because unfortunately, it also settles in my stomach. Usually, when I am very stressed, it makes my stomach more sensitive:

• the stomach pains come back

• my appetite disappears

• my bathroom visits become longer

• everything just feels ten times harder.

It’s like my body gently taps me on the shoulder and says:

“Excuse me... perhaps it’s time to slow down.”

Meanwhile my brain replies:

“Absolutely not. We have fourteen more things to do today.”

Not exactly the healthiest conversation, I know. Some nights it even feels like I’m asleep without ever really sleeping.

My body is in bed, but my brain is still editing videos, planning recipes, thinking about university, remembering emails I forgot to send, wondering whether I ordered the right documents, replaying conversations I had three days ago...

It is truly exhausting.

I just want to breathe, to just have time to wind down, and let my brain just be silent for a second. I don’t want to stress myself until I am burned out, so I’ve been trying to take just a second and stop myself before I go down a rabbit hole.

Instead of trying to do everything every single day, I’ve started giving myself permission to focus on two or three important things.

That’s it.

If I finish those, the day has been successful. If I have energy afterwards, wonderful. If not...

Tomorrow exists.

It’s such a simple shift, but somehow it’s been helping me.

Then, I’m trying to remind myself that not everything I create has to reinvent the wheel. Not every recipe has to be something the internet has never seen before. Not every video has to become my best-performing upload.

And that’s why I’ve been trying to go back to basics, because I feel it is exactly what I need right now.

Seitan veggie patties w. mashed potatoes:

I know there are a million mashed potato recipes out there. There’s nothing new in boiling some potatoes, mashing them, adding some spices, and enjoying them, but I can’t remember the last time I had them.

I’ve been so focused on constantly preparing new dishes that I forgot the comfort meals I used to enjoy. Nothing out of this world, but the simple and quick recipes that somehow always hit the spot.

To be honest, it was one of those days that I had no appetite or cravings for anything in particular. I was just browsing around my kitchen when my eyes landed on the potatoes, and I suddenly felt the need to make some mashed potatoes.

Then, while those were boiling, I happened to open my fridge with absolutely no plan for what to accompany the mashed potatoes with, saw a few vegetables that really needed using before they reached the point of no return, and let my mind take it from there.

My first thought was to make falafels, but as I was about to add the chickpeas to my food processor, there were no chickpeas in sight.

Normally that would’ve been the end of the recipe, but instead I decided to look in the fridge again, only to spot some seitan sitting at the back.

Without second-guessing myself, I chucked them into the food processor, formed them into patties and crossed my fingers that it would somehow work.

I honestly don’t think I’d ever seen anyone use seitan to make patties like these before. People usually reach for lentils, beans, chickpeas or tofu. But seitan somehow gets forgotten.

Yet it worked better than I expected. The patties turned out hearty, packed with protein, full of vegetables, and, alongside the mashed potatoes, exactly the kind of comforting meal I needed.

Because in the end, some foods don’t need reinventing. They’re comforting precisely because they’re familiar. They are there to remind us to slow down for just a little while, and that even if it's a simple meal, it can end up becoming exactly what we need in the moment.

Not a meal with fancy techniques, complicated ingredients, or pressure for it to become the next viral recipe.

Simply just a good lunch or dinner.

Not everything has to be extraordinary to matter. Sometimes changing just one ingredient is enough to make something feel completely new.

Sometimes what we’re actually searching for isn’t another big breakthrough. It’s simply remembering why we loved something in the first place.

These seitan patties aren’t trying to replace falafels or pretending to be burgers. They’re just themselves. Made from what I happened to have in the fridge that day.

And somehow I think that’s exactly why I love them.

So if you’ve been feeling overwhelmed lately. Or if your to-do list seems to grow faster than you can cross things off. I hope this meal reminds you to slow down for just a little while.

Sit at the table.
Take a deep breath.
Enjoy something warm.

Because sometimes the most nourishing thing on our plate isn’t the protein or the vegetables. It’s giving ourselves permission to stop rushing, even if only for just one meal.

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recipe down below ⬇️

Despite the ridiculous number of banana bread recipes I’ve shared over on my Instagram, I actually don’t like raw bananas.

I’ve tried. Believe me, I’ve tried very hard. But for some reason, they taste almost... milky to me (and I’ve been lactose intolerant since I was a child, so that makes it even weirder). I know that it probably makes absolutely no sense, but my brain has decided that’s what they taste like and refuses to change its mind. 😅

The funny thing is, as a nutrition student, I know bananas are one of the best foods you can have before or after a run. They’re easy to digest, packed with carbohydrates to replenish your energy, and full of potassium to help replace what you lose through sweat.

So recently I’ve been trying to add them to my yoghurt bowls to get used to the taste and texture, instead of constantly hiding them inside banana breads. But they still give me the icks. But I’ve still decided to make it my mission to find other ways that could actually be enjoyable for me.

But after a few breakfast experiments, I think I’ve finally found the answer.

Banana pudding half-baked oats. 🍌

It starts with layers of banana overnight oats (which I’ve made before slightly differently), crumbled digestive biscuits and yoghurt, finished with a few banana slices on top before being popped into the air fryer for just a few minutes.

Somehow those 3-5 minutes completely transform whatever you want to call it. The biscuits become lightly caramelised, the oats turn warm and almost pudding-like, and the whole kitchen smells as though a fresh banana bread has just come out of the oven.

It’s soft, cosy, gooey, and somehow convinced me that maybe bananas aren’t so bad after all.

So if you’re also someone who struggles with raw bananas, or you’re simply looking for a quick breakfast that’s nourishing enough after a workout but still feels like a little treat, I genuinely think this one might surprise you.

Also safe to say, this breakfast has earned a permanent spot in my rotation. 💛

1. In a bowl, combine 40 g rolled oats, 80 ml soy milk, 2 tbsp soy yoghurt, ½ mashed banana, 1 scoop protein powder, a pinch of salt, and a pinch of cinnamon.

2. Stir until smooth, then cover and refrigerate overnight.

3. The next day, spoon one-third of the overnight oats into the bottom of a ramekin.

4. Sprinkle over half of the crumbled digestive biscuits, then spread over about 1–2 tbsp soy yoghurt.

5. Add another one-third of the overnight oats, followed by the remaining crumbled digestive biscuits and another 1–2 tbsp soy yoghurt.

6. Finish with the final one-third of the overnight oats, then arrange the banana slices on top, and scatter over a few extra digestive biscuit crumbs for a little crunch.

7. Air fry at 180°C for 3–5 minutes, just until the top is lightly golden and warmed through.

8. Let it cool for some minutes before digging in.

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The journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step
~ Lao Tzu

Lately, I’ve been feeling incredibly nostalgic (if you couldn’t tell 😅)

Let’s just say I’m about to start another chapter of my life, and maybe it’s just me but I feel like when you’re standing at the edge of something new, you naturally find yourself looking back at everything that brought you where you are now. Either way, I’ve caught myself thinking a lot about the last few years.

It’s still crazy to me to say that a year ago I officially finished my Bachelor's, where I got to travel to three countries, learn three different languages, and meet people from all over the world.

Each city taught me something different; each city had its ups and downs, but Berlin

has to be my favourite one of the three.

Berlin - my city:

I still don’t fully know why, but out of the three countries, Berlin somehow became my city. Maybe it was because I had the most wonderful roomies, who very quickly stopped feeling like roomies and became some of my closest friends.

Or maybe it was because Berlin somehow encouraged curiosity in ways the other two cities hadn’t. Every street seemed to hide another tiny café, another bakery, another market, another place that made me want to go out every day and explore.

Or perhaps it was because, for the first time in a long time, I felt like myself more than I had since I finished high school.

It was in Berlin that I truly started taking content creation seriously. Up until then, it had mostly been mostly youtube vlogs. But living in Berlin took that to another level, because I not only started developing recipes but also started making content for cafes around the city. And I started to realise how much I love creating and how much I wanted it to become a part of who I was.

I started doing more Instagram content.
Spending more time editing.
Cooking more.
Baking more.

I reached out to cafés and restaurants, photographed their food, created videos for them, and spent hours wandering around the city with my camera, convinced every little bakery deserved its own documentary.

Looking back now, I don’t think I realised how much those little moments meant to me. They were not only away for me to relax after spending hours reading for my courses, but also away for me to fall in love with food and start fixing my gut issues ↓.

I fell in love not only with exploring food and flavour combos, but also learning why recipes worked. Why some cookies stayed gooey while others turned cakey.

I started spending entire afternoons tweaking a recipe by just a few grams to see what would happen.

Berlin was where recipe development stopped being “something I occasionally did” and slowly became an obsession.

It all started with a cookie:

It was also here in Berlin where I discovered what are still, to this day, the best vegan cookies I’ve ever eaten.

It was these cookies that inspired me to experiment until I found my perfect cookie recipe. I was so determined that I even made a whole YouTube video about it, which I should probably update because since then I’ve come a long way.

Saying these cookies are amazing is underselling them, because I loved them so much that it was the last place I went before leaving Berlin to take some home with me. They are from this little cookie shop that sold giant Levain-style cookies, and although they weren’t entirely vegan, their vegan selection genuinely blew my mind.

One cookie, in particular, never left me. Their Matchadamia cookie (matcha cookie w. macadamia nuts)

It was literally pure perfection. The matcha actually came through with all its complexity. And then the buttery and crunchy macadamias where the perfect addition. To this day I don’t know why they aren’t added to more cookies.

I still remember walking back to my apartment after trying their cookeis for the first time, thinking:

I want to learn how to make something like this one day 🍪

I didn’t realise that little thought would end up sending me down a rabbit hole of cookie science. A summer where all I did was test, fail, test again, change hydration or flour ratios, playing with baking temperatures, reading about cookies everywhere I could, learning about different types of sugar, about the reason to freeze dough…

Fast forward to today, and I think I’ve finally made an even better version than the cookies I had in Berlin!!!

I might be biased, but I think they truly are the best cookie ever. Not only are they gooey on the inside and crunchy on the outside, but they are not too sweet, gut friendly (they’re much gentler on my stomach, thanks to the sourdough discard) and can easily be made gluten free (additionally they don’t trigger my allergies, so that’s a win)

All that was left to do now was to finally add some matcha alongside some macadamias and see if they could top the Berlin cookie, and that’s exactly what I did.

BIG NEWS!!!!

I know. I know. This week’s recipes have been suspiciously matcha-heavy 👀 Not that anyone who knows me is particularly surprised, because I’ve loved matcha since before it was trendy.

But after running out of good-quality matcha for what felt like forever, receiving some from Godmothers Matcha genuinely reignited the obsession 💚 So I’ve been testing matcha desserts as if it were the reason I breathe.

I can’t say enough good things about their matcha. The quality is unbelievable, so naturally I want to put matcha into everything I can now. I don’t think the obsession is ending anytime soon, but maybe that’s fitting.

Because these cookies don’t only remind me of where I’ve been. They also remind me of where I’m going…

After what has honestly been one of the most unexpected years of my life, I finally have some very important news to share….

When I graduated from university last year, I genuinely thought I’d quickly find a graduate job. Instead, I spent the last year joining thousands of other graduates in being rejected from every job, sending millions of applications and questioning why I even studied in the first place.

And although this gap year wasn’t what I’d planned, looking back now, I don’t think I’d change it. Because without it, I don’t think I would’ve fallen this deeply in love with baking or recipe development, or had time to write these little blog posts or finish my nutrition degree.

Sometimes life gives you what you need instead of what you asked for. And while I still don’t have everything figured out, I do finally know what comes next.

“drum roll, please”

I’m incredibly excited (and slightly terrified) to say that I’ve been accepted into the master’s programme I applied to at SDC, which is a collaboration between universities in Denmark and China.

Which means...

I’M MOVING TO CHINA 🇨🇳

Even writing those words still feels surreal, because I’ve never been to Asia before. I have absolutely no idea what the next year is going to look like. I don’t even know how I’m going to keep creating recipes when my student accommodation doesn’t even have a proper kitchen.

But I suppose I’ve never really had everything figured out before starting something new, but somehow it always works itself out. And perhaps that’s part of the adventure.

Matcha macadamia cookies:

Funnily enough, although most people associate matcha with Japan, its origins actually trace back to China. So these matcha macadamia cookies somehow feel like the perfect bridge between one chapter and the next (funny how I didn’t plan this at all)

A recipe inspired by Berlin.

Made with an ingredient whose story begins in China.

If the past few years have taught me anything, it’s that the places we live leave little pieces of themselves inside us.

Berlin gave me confidence.
Friendships I’ll treasure forever.
Taught me that creating isn’t just something I enjoy. It’s something that makes me feel most like myself.

And now it’s time to discover what China has waiting.

Again, cookies become more than just cookies. Not only my nickname anymore. Not only the reason I fell in love with recipe development. Not only what made me fall in love with trying new food again. But now also what marks a new chapter for me.

One that I am nervous about but excited too.

One that is happening so soon, it feels unreal.

Who knew cookies could become such a central part of my life?
(I certainly didn’t expect it)

But what I am most excited about is bringing all of you along for the journey. There will undoubtedly be kitchen disasters. Probably a few culture shocks. And hopefully plenty of amazing food.

One thing is for sure, though: I know I will be getting a lot more recipes inspired by wherever life decides to take me next.

But before all of that begins, I thought it was only right to leave you with the cookies that started it all. The cookies that remind me that sometimes the smallest moments can change your life in ways you never expected.

So here’s to Berlin.
Here’s to new beginnings.
And here’s to a very exciting matcha-fuelled chapter ahead.

Because another thing I can say for sure is that my love for matcha will never seise to exist 🍵💚

recipe down below ⬇️

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The secret of getting ahead is getting started.
~ Mark Twain

Lately, I’ve been feeling like I’m running in every direction at once, yet standing completely still at the same time.

It’s a strange feeling because, from the outside, it probably doesn’t look like my mind is racing a 1000 miles per hour (but it is.)

Despite my days being filled with things I love (from baking, developing recipes, filming, writing these blog posts, studying nutrition to editing as much as I can) since coming back from my holidays, I’ve been feeling like I am falling behind.

Maybe it’s because I came back with so many ideas that I haven’t been to completley know where to even begin.

My social media feed has been flooded with incredible recipes (truly drooling every time I open my Instagram or YouTube for you page 🤤). Every time I open them, someone is making something that immediately makes me want to run into the kitchen and try to make something inspired by them.

A new pastry.
A beautiful cake.
A clever baking technique I’d never thought of before.

But then I start feeling overwhelmed because I want to make everything and share everything, and because I obviously have so much time, I end up feeling like I am basically not doing enough of anything.

Current situation:

My YouTube vlog (aka. part 2 of my travel to the UK) is still waiting to be edited (only started organising it two days ago).

TikTok has somehow become the forgotten child of my social media. I don’t think I’ve posted there since the beginning of February because I simply haven’t found the time, or if I’m being completely honest, the energy to edit another video (especially after some mean comments that started popping up on some of my videos).

Instagram has become the place where I probably spend most of my creative energy nowadays, but even there I constantly feel like I should be posting more, replying faster, creating better photos, writing better captions and somehow keeping up with everything happening online.

Then life decided to remind me that sometimes your body has other plans. This past week my stomach decided it was time for another flare-up (yay me!!!)

It started as one of those annoying stomach aches that you try to ignore, convincing yourself it’ll disappear if you keep busy. Except this one was one that obviously wasn’t planning on disappearing.

Every day this week, I woke up hoping it would finally be gone, only to spend most of the day curled up in bed because the pain was too much (happy to report that after a week I am much, much better.)

It’s funny how quickly everything else suddenly feels so much bigger when you’re not feeling well.

Everything starts to feel overwhelming, and the ideas in my notebook make me feel guilty instead of excited. Like somehow I should be doing more, and that the last thing I should be doing right now is resting.

So much so that you somehow end up convincing yourself that you’re failing at everything.

A kind reminder:

I know that this isn’t actually true, but our brains can be incredibly convincing when we’re exhausted.

But then something incredible happened, that brighten my day just like that. It was so random, and it happened in the middle of the day, but the message stayed with me.

It wasn’t a long message or anything scandalous, but it was the message I needed:

“I really enjoy your vides on Youtube […] I’m really looking forward to new videos. I really enjoy your content on both Youtube and Instagram.”

Those little messages brought me to tears, because as I was in the midst of questioning everything, they reminded me why I love creating even more now in the first place.

I don’t think I will ever be able to express how much your messages mean to me. Hearing from you always makes my days better.

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You know, creating content can feel oddly lonely sometimes. You spend hours filming yourself talking to a camera, editing clips together, writing recipes, photographing food from twelve different angles, only to upload everything into what sometimes feels like a giant void.

You never really know who’s on the other side. So whenever one of you takes the time to tell me that something I created made you smile, inspired you to bake, or simply kept you company for a little while, it reminds me exactly why I started doing this in the first place.

Not because everything has to go viral, or because I want thousands of people watching. But even if something I make reaches one person on exactly the day they need it, every hour spent making it suddenly feels worth it.

It reminded me that maybe I’m putting far more pressure on myself that I realised, and if I keep going on that path, maybe the joy of creating could dissipate. And that’s THE LAST THING I WANT ↓

So despite what my brains thinks, perhaps I’m creating enough. And perhaps, I just haven’t been giving myself permission to enjoy it.

So instead of hiding from my kitchen because I was scared another recipe wouldn’t turn out right, I decided to challenge myself with something I’d avoided for far too long.

Matcha Basque cheesecake w. cookie crust:

Now, I should probably confess something. I’m not actually the biggest cheesecake fan. My mom is, my dad likes it to, and if you were to ask my brother it would probably his favourite desserts (even if he prefers savoury.)

I am thinking the same thing as you.

I am probably adopted 😅 (but that’s a topic for another day)

I don’t know whether it’s the texture, the richness, or simply the fact that I’ve never managed to make one that completely won me over. Every attempt seemed to end with me thinking, “Well... that wasn’t it.”

Which is probably why I kept putting off trying another one, since I made the one for my brother’s birthday ↓

Then the lovely people at Godmother’s Matcha sent me some of their beautiful ceremonial matcha, and I don’t know why the first thing that came to mind was making a cheesecake. It somehow felt like the perfect excuse to finally give cheesecake another chance.

Now it also might be weird that despite me growing up in Spain, I’ve never tried a Basque cheesecake. I know it has always been one of those iconic desserts that everyone rages about, and associates with spain too, but I never had the chance to taste one, and never had the drive to attempt to make one.

But this week that changed.

I decided that if there was a way I was going to enjoy cheesecake, it had to be by making it with the things I love them most:

Cookies (as the crust)
Matcha (obviously)
Caramelised top (signature of a basque cheesecake)

And oh my I was suprised!!!

You wouldn’t believe by just looking at it if I told you that it was fully plant-based, a little higher in protein than normal Basque cheesecakes, and without ingredients that would trigger allergies (at least mine)

I think the cookie crust was the way to go because, in my brain, every dessert deserves a little crunch. Period 👏🏻

It definitely wasn’t perfect the first time. Or the second. Or the third. Actually, there may have been a few cheesecakes sacrificed in the name of recipe development.

But when I finally pulled this one out of the oven, with its deeply caramelised top and perfectly silky centre, I was filled with extreme joy.

Then came the terrifying part (at least for me), which was cutting into it, hoping it would be set and that it wouldn’t taste inedible.

I genuinely think I held my breath.

But when I cut into it, I was greeted by a silky, creamy, and perfectly set cheesecake.

And tasting it made me rethink my position on cheesecake. The cookie base added the exact contrast I always feel that cheesecakes are missing, while the matcha brought an earthy depth (that I personally really enjoy) that balanced the richness beautifully without overpowering it.

For perhaps the first time ever, I actually understood why people love cheesecake so much. Maybe I haven’t disliked cheesecake all these years. Maybe I just hadn’t found my cheesecake.

And I suppose that’s a little reminder that extends far beyond baking. Sometimes we convince ourselves we don’t enjoy something simply because we haven’t found the version that fits us yet. Sometimes all it takes is one more try, or one person believing in us.

So all that to say:

thank you 💌

Thank you for continuing to inspire me, just as I hope my recipes inspire you. Because without even realising it, you’re helping me keep showing up, even on the days when I wonder if I should.

And if this cheesecake is proof of anything, it’s that sometimes the recipes we almost give up on become the ones we’re proudest of sharing.

recipe down below ⬇️

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Sometimes you will never know the value of a moment until it becomes a memory.
~ Dr. Seuss

Recently, I feel like I’ve been so caught up in trying to come up with new recipes that I completely forgot about certain dishes that I used to eat on repeat as a child. They weren’t complicated. If anything, they were made from very few ingredients, but they were still flavourful (examples ↓)

I had been so focused on trying to learn more cooking techniques, make more “complicated” recipes, that I forgot that for something to be good or taste good, it doesn’t need to have a foot-long ingredient list.

Funny, isn’t it?

I now spend so much time thinking about what I can create next that I sometimes forget to look back at what is already there. To the recipes that don’t need reinventing, because they are delicious just as they are.

The recipes that quietly became part of my childhood, without me ever realising they were creating memories at the same time.

Constant innovation:

I think when you spend a lot of time in the kitchen (like I’ve been doing this past year), whether that’s professionally or simply because you love it, there’s this constant pressure to create something new.

A new recipe.
A new technique.
A new flavour combination.
Something exciting enough to share.
Something different enough that it feels like you’re improving.

And somewhere in that journey of learning, I realised I’d almost forgotten some of the simplest dishes my own family used to make.

Not because they weren’t good, because if anything, the things my sister made for us have always been worth a Michelin star. But, simply because we just forgot about them.

The thing is, we forget things we used to enjoy without realising it. One year, you can be making something almost every month, and before you know it, years have passed without thinking about it once. Then all it takes is one memory to remember that meal, and you are brought back to the past, and it almost feels like no time has passed at all since you last had it.

While we don't outgrow things, most of the time, we actually stop doing things because we get distracted or because we try to reinvent ourselves, like we are told we should do. But I’ve been wondering why that happens.

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Returning:

Maybe the reason we get distracted might be because we spend so much of our time believing that moving forward always means that we should also be leaving something behind. That growth somehow requires constant novelty.

But what if growth also means returning?

Returning to recipes & traditions.
Returning to versions of ourselves that still have something to teach us.

Because not everything old needs replacing. Some things are worth rediscovering. And I think that’s something I’ve needed reminding of lately.

It had been 2 years since my family and I took a trip abroad together for the summer holidays, and I hadn’t realised how much I missed them. It was easier to plan when I was younger. Now, since my sibling and I are doing our own things, it has gotten a bit harder to schedule some time to travel together.

It used to be our tradition to take two weeks during the summer to travel abroad together. My parents wanted to make sure that my siblings and I travelled and could learn from different cultures, as they themselves only got on their first plane when they were in their late twenties. I used to love that tradition of ours. It is the reason I love travelling now that I am older.

And something that I am also realising now, at this age, is that some of the most meaningful traditions in my family have also revolved around food.

Not extravagant meals or dishes with expensive ingredients. Just dishes that somehow became part of who we are.

“Pollo” almendrado:

For us, almendrado was one of those dishes.

It’s crazy that I can’t even remember the last time I had it, because it used to be one of my favourite dishes growing up that I would gladly eat weekly.

But when I was grocery shopping with my dad, and I stumbled upon some vegan chicken thighs, I don’t know why, but this dish was the first thing that came to mind (literally out of nowhere!)

I know Peru is mostly known for their ceviche, the chaufa cusine and even aji de gallina is quite well-known, but unless you have a Peruvian family, pollo almendrado is not one you normally hear associated with Peruvian cuisine.

Which is so sad, because I truly think it is such an underrated dish.

In my family, we used to make it to celebrate small things, like getting a good grade on a test that we were scared about doing badly at, or if we were feeling down, it was one of those dishes that would always lift our mood up.

It wasn’t something we ate every week, but when we did, the meal itself was a little tradition of ours.

I also remember asking for it whenever I started feeling unwell. It was before my gut issues started becoming worse. This dish was actually one of those meals that always felt gentle on my stomach. Warm, nourishing and comforting in the way only familiar food can be.

Recently, after dealing with another flare-up, I found myself craving exactly those kinds of meals again. The ones that, even if they are simple,

Of family.

It’s funny how food has that ability. How a single bite can transport you years backwards. It can remind you of people, places and versions of yourself you’d almost forgotten.

I think that’s why recipes like this one matter so much. They’re never really just recipes, are they?

They’re little pieces of memory that we pass from one person to another. Stories we keep cooking over and over again.

Which is why making this plant-based version meant so much to me. I wanted to recreate the dish I remembered growing up while making it accessible to the way I cook and eat today.

I think younger me would have absolutely loved it. The rich almond sauce was still the main star of the show, and the gentle sweetness of the tomato reminded me why I loved it so much.

We spend so much time chasing the next thing that we forget to revisit the things that once made us happy. Perhaps growing isn’t always about adding more, and having this childhood dish again reminded me that not every recipe needs to be revolutionary. Sometimes the best things truly are the simplest ones.

recipe down below ⬇️

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“We are the change that we seek.”
~ Barack Obama

The 4th of July has always fascinated me.

Not because I grew up ce

lebrating it (I might be American, aka the continent, by birth, but I have no relationship to the USA as such), but because I’ve always found it interesting how all countries have those holidays that are so personal to their foundation. Those celebrations where people embrace their history, and sometimes even celebrate the people who shaped it, fought for it, and believed in the possibility of building something better.

This year (2026) marks 250 years since the United States declared its independence, and while I’m not American, seeing everyone sharing celebrations online made me stop and think about what this day actually means. Not only a day when the USA was founded, but a day that should also be a reminder of how the country was built by people from all over the world.

That’s why it made me think of my parents.

They’re immigrants. Not to the United States, but to Spain.

Sometimes I forget how enormous that decision must have been. Leaving everything you know behind.

Your family.
Your friends.
Your customs.
The streets you’ve walked your whole life.
The comfort of familiarity.

To be honest, the more I think about it, the more I see how scared they had been. In every sense of the word, they were taking a leap of faith into the unknown.

Daughter of immigrants:

Despite my parents and me being avid travellers, before they had me, they had never left their country of origin. Spain was the first country either of my parents had ever travelled to and lived in outside Peru. They arrived carrying far more uncertainty than certainty, hoping that by taking a chance on somewhere new they could build a better future.

Not only for themselves, but for my siblings and me.

I don’t think I truly appreciated what that meant when I was younger (not that I knew about how much it had taken for them to travel to Spain, as all I knew was Europe)

The thing is that as a child, your parents somehow seem invincible. You don’t question how difficult life might have been before you came into the world, or the things they went through to be the person they are right now.

You don’t stop to think about the sacrifices they quietly made and continue to make without you realising, so that your life can be just a little easier than theirs was.

You simply grow up assuming that’s how life works.

Only now, as a young adult, do I realise how much courage it must have taken, because moving countries isn’t just changing your address.

It’s rebuilding your entire life from the beginning:

• Finding work.

• Learning how a new system functions.

• Making friends again.

• Feeling homesick.

• Missing birthdays.

• Missing family dinners.

• Missing people you’ll never fully stop missing.

And despite all these, somehow they have to continue to move forward.

Grateful:

Growing up, there were so many opportunities I had simply because of the decision my parents made the day I was born.

They worked incredibly hard so that my siblings and I could study, dream bigger than they perhaps ever had the chance to, and have opportunities they never had themselves.

Looking back now, I don’t think I thanked them enough. I still don’t think I could ever do anything to thank them enough.

But I also know that I could have understood it as a five-year-old. All of the sacrifices they made, just so I could grow up having things they never had.

But I do now.

Building a better world:

The older I get (and also because I now have a bachelor's in political science), the more I’ve started to realise that countries aren’t only built through politics or borders. They’re built by everyday people. Like me, and probably you too.

By people who might work an office job.
By people who might spend their days raising their family.
By people who might be caring for others.
By people who leave everything familiar behind in the hope that the next generation might have a little more than they did.
People like my parents.

Basically, people who don’t feature in any history book, and their story will never be told.

I know conversations around immigration can become incredibly complicated, and every country has challenges that deserve thoughtful discussion. But I also think it’s important to remember that behind every statistic is a human being with a story.

Someone’s mum, or dad, or child.

Someone who, at some point, simply hoped for a better future.

When I think about my own family history, it makes me realise that if my parents hadn’t been brave enough to make that decision all those years ago, my life would look completely different today.

I wouldn’t have grown up where I did.
I might never have studied abroad.
I might never have started creating recipes.

And while I would perhaps have a closer relationship to my family in Peru, I think I would lose a lot of the global perspective I have because I’ve moved around a lot.

It’s strange how one courageous decision can ripple through generations, isn’t it?

Sometimes we inherit much more than eye colour or family recipes. Sometimes we inherit opportunities.

And that is something I never want to take for granted.

So today, regardless of where you live or what you happen to be celebrating, I hope we can all take a second to appreciate the people who came before us.

That we don’t forget them. That if we can, we tell their stories.

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No matter your political opinions, who you are, or how you look, the things we have today are all thanks to the sacrifices that someone made.

Countries are not founded on their own, but by people who came together to build something, hoping for a better life than the one they had.

Blueberry-strawberry crumble bars:

Now let’s leave the political topics aside (at least I am using my political degree for something 🤣) and let’s bring it back to something I think couldn’t be a more fitting dessert to celebrate the 4th of July:

some fruity crumble bars

The deep blue blueberries, bright strawberries (both of which are in season), and golden oat crumble felt like a little celebration all on their own.

But beyond the colours ❤️🤍💙, I think this recipe also reminds me of something else.

None of these ingredients tells the whole story on its own. Each one is lovely individually, but together they create something far better than any of them could become by themselves.

After making my brother’s birthday cheesecake, I wanted to do some actual blueberry crumble bars, as I am still not the biggest fan of cheesecake, and this version did not disappoint.

I was so surprised by how easily it was to put together. While the filling was cooling down, I was making the crumble, which was perfectly time to then assemble and bake it.

Nothing fancy. Nothing complicated. Simple ingredients that most of us have access to. I was planning on just doing some simple blueberry crumble bars, but since I also had some strawberries left from the strawberry desserts I had been recently testing, I just knew I had to use them too.

While you can divide them into 16, I decided to make 28 because I took them to my brother’s graduation day at his high school, so he could share them with his friends. And if you need any proof that these are worth making, the fact that most were asking for the recipe afterwards should be proof enough.

So whether you’re celebrating Independence Day, simply enjoying the sunshine, or just looking for an excuse to bake something delicious this weekend, I hope these bars bring a little brightness to your table.

And if nothing else, I hope they remind you to give the people who helped shape your life an extra hug today. I know I certainly will. 💛

recipe down below ⬇️

Summer has only just begun.

The days are longer, the strawberries are everywhere (which, as you guys know already, I am really taking advantage of by eating my weight in them 🍓), and peach and watermelon season has only just begun.

But if you know me, then you also know how much I adore apples. So, the second summer arrives, my brain immediately starts thinking about autumn 🍎

I can’t help it.

For me, summer has somehow become the official countdown to apple season, even if I am loving the return of juicy strawberries and easy-to-find stone fruits. Apples are just something else. I don’t know how to explain how much I love them.

So while autumn might still be a few months away, I decided to get a head start by sharing one of my favourite baked oat flavours ever: apple pie 🍎

And to be fair, it has also been a few months since I shared a baked oat recipe, which has become one of those recipes you guys have been constantly asking for more ideas for since I posted my first one last year.

Well... after more than three months, I think it’s finally time for another one.

The thing about apples is that, at least for me, they somehow always symbolise a feeling of comfort, no matter the season.

These baked oats may not win a beauty contest any time soon, but they have everything I love about an actual apple pie:

soft cinnamon-spiced apples
a cosy cake-like texture
enough sweetness to feel like a treat

Which is exactly my kind of recipe.

And don’t worry. There will still be plenty of strawberry recipes coming. But I make no promises that there won’t also be an unreasonable number of apple recipes appearing here and there, too 🤭🍎

sweet · oats · one serving · high protein

1. Preheat your air fryer to 180°C

2. In a bowl, mix together the 40 g oats, 1 scoop of protein powder, a pinch of salt, 1 tsp of cinnamon, 1 tsp of baking soda, and ½ tsp of baking powder.

3. Add the 2 tbsp plain soy yoghurt and 100 ml soy milk, then stir until a smooth batter forms. If the mixture feels very thick, add a splash more milk.

4. Fold in a handful of chopped dried apple pieces, 1/4 of a finely diced apple, and 2 tsp sunflower seeds.

5. Transfer the batter to a ramekin or small baking dish and smooth the top.

6. Bake for 15–18 minutes, or until the top is lightly golden and the centre is just set.

7. Allow to cool for 5 minutes before serving. This gives the oats time to firm up and lets the apple pieces soften fully.

8. Optional: add a dollop of soy yoghurt, an extra sprinkle of cinnamon, and a few more sunflower seeds.

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The worst enemy to creativity is self-doubt
~ Sylvia Plath

Lately I’ve been thinking a lot about content. Not in the usual “what should I post next?” kind of way, but in a much bigger sense ↓

And perhaps the question that has been following me around the most these past few weeks:

Is any of it even making a difference?

I know I’m probably not the only creator who feels like this. The internet has become very good at convincing us that success follows a formula. Every time I open Instagram, YouTube, or TikTok, there seems to be another person promising that they have cracked the code. Another person explaining how going viral is easy. Another person is selling a secret strategy that supposedly turns anyone into an overnight success.

Sometimes it feels like everyone has figured it out except you. And if I’m honest, I’ve been letting that get to me a little, because the reality looks very different from the outside.

Most of us are not going viral
Most of us are not gaining thousands of followers every day.

Most of us are just quietly creating things we care about, sharing them with whoever happens to stumble across them, and hoping they might make someone smile, think differently, or feel a little less alone.

It becomes surprisingly easy to forget that.

Chasing the algorithm:

When a video you’ve spent days editing barely gets seen, or a post you’re proud of disappears into the void. When you’re constantly being shown other people’s highlight reels while sitting with your own doubts.

You start questioning everything.

Maybe the content isn’t good enough, interesting enough, and you are just wasting your time.

Maybe you should just stop.

I know those thoughts aren’t particularly helpful, but they’re real.

Especially lately.

As I’ve mentioned before, over the past year, YouTube has removed several of my videos without proper explanation, and I've become more aware of how fragile the process of creating online content can feel ↓

One day your content is there, the next day it isn’t.

One day, you’re excited to upload something, the next, you’re trying to understand why a platform suddenly decided otherwise.

Since the whole YouTube thing, I have scaled down the content I produce there because I never know if it could potentially be removed, too. It has made it a bit less exciting to create.

That’s why, over the past few months, Instagram has started to feel like a safer place for me, but over the past few days, it has also started having its own issues.

Posts refusing to upload.
Reels are getting stuck.
Random restrictions appear out of nowhere.
Comments and likes are suddenly not working properly.

I’ve tried deleting the app. I’ve tried reinstalling it. I’ve logged in and out to see if that would do something.

I think I’ve tried all the troubleshooting steps I know, but somehow it has decided to keep acting like a moody teenager.

Digital archive:

We spend so much time building things on platforms that technically don’t belong to us. Yet at any moment, something could happen that puts all of that at risk.

I don’t say that to be dramatic. I think it’s simply something most creators eventually realise, that despite all the wonders of the internet and social media, it can also be incredibly unstable.

Which is probably why I’ve found myself becoming quite attached to this little corner of the internet lately:

SUBSTACK.

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A place that started as a way to share my recipes has quietly become so much more than a recipe diary.

It’s become a digital diary.

A place where I can still write long thoughts without worrying too much about whether people will assume things about me based on how I look or have comments that make me question everything I create.

A place where I can document not only the food I make, but the person I’m becoming.

And perhaps my favourite part of all is that these recipes aren’t only for all of you. Actually, a reason I started sharing recipes, which I haven’t really mentioned before, is for my dad.

Right now, he’s living abroad on his own, which means he doesn’t often feel like cooking or feel uninspired to do so. And writing down recipes became my way of helping him recreate some of the meals he used to eat back home, with a little more plant-forward ingredients.

It makes me smile knowing that a recipe I write here might inspire one of his dinners, or remind him of home. Or simply help him figure out what to cook after a long day.

And honestly, future me benefits too (but that’s just a plus!!!)

Because let’s be real, I can barely remember what I did last Tuesday, never mind the exact measurements of a banana bread I developed six months ago (and I hope I am not the only one 😂)

So in the end, I think this little recipe diary of mine truly does serve all of us. Or at least I hope it does.

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The ultimate banana bread:

By now, you guys might know how much I love making banana bread (with and without sourdough) despite the fact that I hate eating raw bananas ↓

Something else you should know about me by now is how much I hate it when you go to order a carrot cake and instead get a cake that doesn’t even taste like it has carrots. Or a lemon cake, that instead tastes like pure sugar.

Like, if you think it is a vanilla muffin, I'd better taste the vanilla!

So when I say I want a simple banana bread (which is the typical vegan option in most non-vegan places), I want something that tastes like banana. And if I have to be real for a second, most, if not all, places fail to deliver.

That’s why, over the past few weeks, while testing other recipes and doubting most of what I create and questioning whether I am even good enough, I have been trying to go back to the things I enjoy the most (aka making banana breads) and take my banana bread skills to another level.

And after hours of testing and figuring out how to increase the bananas without making the loaf gummy or dense, I finally did it!!!

I know it might not be something revolutionary, but if there is one thing I know for certain, it’s that I genuinely love making banana bread.

And while I love me a sourdough recipe, I’ve also made sure to share how to do it if you don’t have sourdough discard or just feel like making an even simpler banana bread. One that uses all those bananas that are one day away from becoming a science experiment. One that is deeply banana-flavoured, moist, and simple enough to become a recipe you return to again and again (like me)

In a way, I think this loaf perfectly represents everything I’ve been talking about, too. I realise, during the process of making this, how I might have been putting too much pressure on myself lately.

Trying to figure out a content strategy, to optimise everything, and to understand algorithms. Basically, just trying to make sense of numbers that often make absolutely no sense.

But after also seeing a reel that simply said:

“Just me creating for my 10 followers because who the hell cares.”

I felt a weight lift off my shoulders, because somewhere along the way, like many of us, I had forgotten why sharing online was fun in the first place.

It wasn’t because of analytics or the reach, but because I wanted to connect.

To share.
To create.
To document my life.
To make things.
And to have fun.

And maybe that should be enough. Maybe not every piece of content needs to become a viral sensation or be life-changing. Maybe sometimes creating something you’re proud of is reason enough.

Not to reinvent yourself or be trendy, but simply showing how you try to be the best version of yourself.

So while I continue figuring out what I want my content to become, I’m going to keep doing the things that make me happy. And if that inspires even one person to make a loaf of banana bread, then I think that’s pretty amazing. Don’t you think so as well?

recipe down below ⬇️

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No matter how long the storm lasts, the sun always shines behind the clouds.
~ Kahlil Gibran

It always amazes me how quickly things can change.

One week you feel as though everything is finally falling into place. You’re excited about the future, motivated to create, full of ideas and energy.

Then a few days later, it can feel as though everything is crashing down around you.

That was pretty much my weekend.

It started on Friday afternoon:
when my stomach decided it wanted to remind me that my gut issues haven’t magically disappeared, even if I wished they did. The stomach pains started creeping back in and by the time I had to go to bed, hoping for a good night rest, I couldn’t even sleep because of the pain.

As if that wasn’t enough, that same afternoon, I also started having issues uploading my Instagram reel that I upload every Friday for the breakfast series. I had everythng ready, but what should have been a simple task somehow turned into a frustrating 2 hour task.

But little did I know that was not gonna be the worst of it.

The messages:

After two hours of Instagram acting up, the DM messages started to come in.

I don’t mean the ones from you guys, that are so sweet they always make my day. I am talking about messages that are insulting, accusatory and threatening.

The sort of messages that even if you tell yourself you should get to you, they always do get to you. And that is when I found myself spiralling.

I started to question EVERYTHING (cue in my ADHD brain going full bananas!)

Questioning my content.
Questioning whether I should even continue creating.
Whether anything I was making had any value at all.
I started asking myself:
what exactly I was contributing.

Was my content even worth watching at all. Why would anyone care about a recipe I developed, a vlog I filmed, or a blog post I spent hours writing?

The questions kept multiplying faster than I could answer them. My brain suddenly felt like a motorway. Thoughts speeding through like cars during rush hour. Maybe this is hard for someone to understand if they don’t have ADHD, but this is pretty much an everyday feeling.

Ours brains are constantly thinking but most times it is a mixture of postivie, negative, and random thoughts, which I’ve slowly learn how to cope with. But when everything suddenly becomes negative and downgrading thoughts, that’s when everything becomes 100 times harder.

Plus, when you’re already dealing with physical pain (thank you stomach for being a pain in the @ss), it becomes much easier to believe every negative thought your brain decides to throw at you.

Before the storm:

What felt especially strange was how different I had felt only a few days earlier. Last week I genuinely felt on top of the world.

I felt motivated and inspired. So much that I got to recipe test not one, not two but four recipes!!! (my average is two, so you bet I was in my groove).

But suddenly, in the space of a couple of days, that drive felt as though it had disappeared quicker than it started.

A younger version of me would have tried to ignore it. She would have masked it and pretended she was fine. I would have just smiled and act as though nothing was wrong.

For a long time that was my default response.

Partly because of my undiagnosed ADHD, partly because I thought showing difficult emotions made me too much. And I didn’t want to be too much.

I had been told by teachers, parents, and classmates, when I was younger, how I could be too much at time.
Too loud. Too talkative. Too hyper. Too obnoxious…

And even if it has been hard, over the last few years I’ve been working on actually feel my feelings instead of immediately pushing them away.

I still find it difficult to talk about what I’m feeling while it’s happening. My instinct is still to retreat into my own head and try to solve everything alone.

But at least now I’ve become better at talking about it afterwards. At least now I allow myself to admit when I’m struggling with my family, who at first also found it difficult to understand my sudden reactions.

Now, like me, my family understand better how I am. Especially my mum, who knows me well enough these days to spot when something is off before I even say anything.

Inside the storm:

On Saturday, if I’m being honest, I felt like a zombie.

I wanted to crawl into a hole and disappear for a little while. Everything felt heavier than usual, and the simplest tasks where so mentally draining.

But throughout the day I kept repeating to myself one thought:

AFTER THE STORM ⛈️ THE SUN ALWAYS COMES UP ☀️

I don’t know why that phrase kept popping into my head, but I held onto it. Not because I necessarily believed it in that moment (cause it felt like the storm was just going to keep on going).

But because sometimes hope starts as a choice before it becomes a feeling.

And even if the last couple of days had felt dark and heavy, looking back there had still been moments that allowed some sunshine into the gloomy days.

On friday, before things started to escalate, I did manage to find the decorating spatula (ON SALE!!!) I had been searching for some months now.

The long run on saturday, wasn’t a magical cure for anything, but it did help the mind calm down a bit. During this time, I wasn’t thinking about comments, content, or expectations. I was simply running.

Since it was also movie night, later that day, my mum and I went to the cinema to watch the Backrooms movie, where I got to switch my brain off and just enjoy spending time with her.
ps: if you haven’t see the movie yet, 100% recommend!!!

Then Sunday arrived. The stomach pain was still there, but my mind felt a little quieter. I wanted to take a chill day, just to calm down. I managed to finish a nutrition assignment, worked on some content, and read a little too. I also managed to squeeze in a nice long walk, trying to enjoy the tiny bit of sunshine that appeared after what felt like endless rain.

And for the first time all weekend I felt like I could finally breathe again.

The sun:

Sometimes that’s all we need. Not a solution, but just enough space to breathe.

After giving myself time to calm down, I finally had the brain space to think and remind myself again the reason I create.

It has never been about making it the perfect content. And it certainly hasn’t been because I think every piece of content I make is viral-worthy.

The reason I create is simply because I genuinely enjoy it.

Because I love learning, experimenting, connecting with you and turning the sometimes crazy ideas into something tangible.

And despite the difficult days, I still get excited every time I develop a new recipe, write a blog post, or upload a video. And for the time being I don’t think that could ever change.

I don’t think I see myself not creating.

If anything I feel like what lights me up inside is exactly just that. Creating.

Just like the sun does, spending hours doing what I love, warms me up inside and out.

Honey-banana cupcakes:

A few weeks ago, I was overcome with joy, when one of my favourite brands reached out and kindly sent me some of their products which I absolutely adore.

I was ridiculously excited. Not only because their coconut sugar is literally what I use in all my recipes, but because getting to make content for brands I love is one of the things I really enjoy doing.

The opportunity to create something using ingredients I already love still feels incredibly special.

And after the weekend events, going into the kitchen to test some cupcakes, felt like the exact thing I needed to feel like myself again. Where I remembered that my content doesn’t need to be perfect to have value. It just needs to be mine.

What makes my content special isn’t because it is perfect, but it’s the combination of all the little things I love that I get to share with all of you. And it is thanks to you I am fortunate enough to have opportunities like this.

This cupcakes could not have come at a better time. Not only had I recently made a batch of my homemade yoghurt, which became the perfect frosting for these beauties, but because I don’t remember the last time I made cupcakes, as I am normally doing banana loaves or cookies like my life depends on it.

They truly were the thing I needed this weekend. Perfectly naturally sweet because of the roasted bananas, that brought the banana flavour to a whole new level. Perfectly filled with some of the coconut nectar in the centre, that soak through inside the cupcake. Perfectly frosted with a creamy yoghurt buttercream that tied it all together.

It truly is a cupcake that screams warmth and comfort. They are so easy to whip up, and the ideal weekend project to make when you feel like your brain is running a thousand miles per hour.

The best part is that they don’t need to be perfect to be flavourful, ( moist) and unique, because once you taste them, they will light you up from the inside.

recipe down below ⬇️

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Most of the times, when saturday comes, we still have some things in the fridge for our morning breakfast. However, other times, we open the fridge and suddenly find that it looks as though there is nothing to eat. Just a few leftovers from some of the dinners we made throughout the week, but nothing that we might consider having for breakfast.

Literally, some saturdays our fridge seem to only have random bits and pieces. From half a pepper, used for a bell pepper pasta sauce we made on Wednesday, or two lonely carrots, that seem to have been lost at the back of the fridge.

The funny thing is that those are often the days we end up making some last minute breakfast meals that we can all enjoy together.

People forget the power of leftover veggies. They feel like they aren’t exciting enough to build a meal around them, and sometimes even end up throwing them away.

But since I started cooking more often for myself, I’ve been really into finding ways to waste as little as possible. I love turning a collectiong of random ingredients into a meal that somehow ends up making sense.

And this tofu stir-fry was one of my favourite ways, when I was living alone, to make sure to use every last piece of veggies before going grocery shopping.

The result is this high-protein dish that is packed with colourful vegetables, plenty of fibre, and enough flavour to make you forget the fact that a minute ago, you thought you had nothing to make a delicious meal with.

So, I invite you to open your fridge and use whatever veggies that are hiding at the back, and giving them a chance to shine. You will be suprise how much flavour they can give you before going on about your day.

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savoury · < 15 mins · high protein

If you don’t know where you are going, any road will get you there.
~ Lewis Carroll

It feels strange to realise that around this time last year, I had officially finished my bachelor’s degree.

Three years of lectures, assignments, deadlines, exams, group projects, stress-induced snacks, and enough cups of tea to fill a small lake had finally come to an end. Graduation was around the corner, and for the first time in a long time, there wasn’t a clear next step waiting for me.

For some reason, I genuinely believed that once university was over, everything would just fall into place

I thought I would apply for a few jobs, maybe look at some master’s programmes, and somehow magically know exactly what I wanted to do for the rest of my life.

Instead, life had other plans.

The reality of life after graduation was much messier than I expected.

And now what…

Job rejection after job rejection. That’s how the first few months after I graduated were all about. Every position seemed to want someone with years of experience for a role labelled “entry level”.

Then, Master’s degrees that once seemed exciting suddenly didn’t feel right for me, and I felt like I couldn’t figure out in what direction I wanted to go next.

The more the days passed, the less certain I became about everything. And I felt awful about it.

I felt guilty for moving back home.
I felt guilty for not contributing financially.
I felt guilty for having time.

Most of all, I felt like I had somehow failed ↓.

I had spent three years working towards a degree, and yet I couldn’t point towards some impressive job title or grand achievement afterwards.

Meanwhile, some of my classmates are now celebrating their first year on the job or relaxing after their first round of master’s exams. It feels as though everyone else knew exactly what to do, while I somehow missed the memo and have been doing it wrong all this time.

But looking back now, I realise how unfair I have been to myself.

I’ve always had a tendency to put more pressure on myself because I feel like if I don’t, I will somehow fail as a human being. That if I didn’t feel like I was suffocating on projects, then I was doing life wrong.

So you can understand that not being able to get a job straight out of university was eating me alive. But little did I know at the time that I was not the only one.

Job market:

The job market is incredibly difficult right now. Ask anyone who has graduated, and they will tell you how they are also trying to find at least a part-time job. But no matter what we do, no matter how many applications we send, we are either ghosted or straight out rejected without any explanation. Many are then left questioning their degrees, their choices, and their futures.

At the beginning, though, it felt very personal.

It felt like the problem wasn’t the job market, but me.

And that’s something I tend to do. To blame myself for things that are clearly not all my fault. I wouldn’t call myself a perfectionist, but more of a very self-critical person. Someone who can be their best cheerleader but, most of the time, their harshest critic.

That had been my default setting for years.

In many ways, it was exactly that mindset that eventually pushed me towards burnout before the pandemic. It wasn’t until I was diagnosed with ADHD in 2021 that I started understanding myself better, and I realised that constantly chasing the next thing wasn’t actually helping me.

Still, having an entire year to think has been one of the most uncomfortable things I’ve done lately.

Terrifying, even.

There were days when I convinced myself I was wasting time.

Days when I felt behind despite not really knowing who I was behind.

Behind some imaginary timeline I had created in my head, perhaps?

I couldn’t even answer that question.

What I can answer now is that this year has given me something I never expected.

SPACE.
Space to learn, rest and create.

Space to rediscover parts of myself that had been buried underneath deadlines and expectations.

Because while I might not have found the perfect career path yet, I found something else ↓.

My passion:

I found how much I genuinely love creating.

Not because someone tells me to, or because there is a grade attached to it.

But because it brings me joy.

A joy I can’t quite yet explain.

This year gave me time to fall deeper in love with baking, recipe development, photography, writing, Instagram, YouTube, and storytelling.

It gave me time to learn food science, experiment, fail and try again.

And perhaps most importantly, it gave me time to realise that creating things is not just something I enjoy doing. It feels like a part of who I am.

Would I love for content creation to become my full-time job one day?
Of course.

I think anyone who spends hours editing videos, testing recipes, rewriting blog posts, and taking forty-seven photos of the same cookie would be lying if they said otherwise.

I don’t know where this is going, but for now, I am grateful that I’ve had the time to invest in creating, and that it exists in my life at all.

Because even on difficult days, it gives me something to look forward to.

It reminds me that growth isn’t always visible.

Sometimes growth looks like learning to trust yourself. Other times, like taking a break. And it can also look like allowing yourself to not have all the answers.

And lately, for me, it has looked like spending all day thinking about new recipes to test, from cakes to old childhood dishes to, obviously, lots and lots of cookies.

Ginger-stuffed sourdough cookies:

If June were a cookie, I genuinely think it would be this one.

Warm but bright.
Comforting but fresh.
Familiar yet slightly unexpected.

The outside is soft and crispy around the edges, while the centre hides a vibrant ginger filling that almost looks like sunshine when you break the cookie apart.

They’re the kind of cookie that feels like the beginning of summer. The kind you eat outside while the evenings are getting longer and everything feels full of possibility.

Maybe that’s why I love them so much.

Inspiration truly can come from anywhere.

My sister had recently made some of her ginger-orange juice shots for the month, and instead of throwing away the leftover pulp, I felt compelled to try using it to reduce waste.

That’s how these cookies were born.

Not from forcing them out of my brain, but by looking around at what I have and using what I have instead of focusing on what I should get to make something happen.

These cookies represent everything that June feels like right now.

The perfect month to take a moment to breathe and let life unfold slowly. A month suspended between what was and what comes next.

And that once you stop trying to have all the answers and allow yourself to see the multiple possibilities you have in front of you, that you couldn’t see before, you might find a little surprise waiting for you to unlock it.

This is also my way of starting something new, because I’ve decided to start creating a cookie for each month of the year, just like cookies, each month always brings a different energy to the year.

And June, well, it is getting these ginger-stuffed cookies.

As for July, August, and the months that follow...

We’ll just have to wait and see what they decide to become.

recipe down below ⬇️

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Roots and wings. That’s what parents give their children.
~ Johann Wolfgang von Goethe

There’s something I’ve been thinking about a lot lately, and it started with a conversation I had with my parents on different days.

It first came up in a conversation I had with my dad last week, while I was back in the UK visiting him. We were sitting having dinner and watching a movie. We were simply talking about the movie, and then somehow the conversation drifted towards how my dad sometimes found it hard to understand my siblings and me, because it seemed to him that we had inherited nothing from him.

He didn’t mean it in a bad or disappointed way.

More in that slightly confused way parents sometimes have when they look at their children and wonder where on earth certain interests came from.

Then a week later, my mom mentioned something similar, while she watched my brother and sister cooking Sunday’s lunch (as they have been every Sunday for the past year or so, as my brother wants to learn some basic kitchen skills)

She was confused about where my passion for baking and cooking and my brother’s new interest in cooking had come from. Especially knowing that she never enjoyed cooking and only cooks when it's ultimately necessary.

She didn’t know I'd had a similar conversation with my dad a week ago.

It felt like both my parents genuinely expected us to inherit more of their interests, too. They thought there would be clearer similarities between them and us. More signs that we belonged to the same family.

And honestly?

I understand their confusion.

Understanding my parents:

I imagine that when you are a parent, there might be this assumption that your children will naturally become miniature versions of you. Maybe not exactly the same, but similar enough that you can trace the line between who you are and who they become.

The funny thing is that the older I get, the less I think inheritance works like that.

Let’s go back to the example of cooking/baking.

As I’ve said before, neither of my parents is particularly passionate about cooking. Food was never really a hobby in our house growing up. It wasn’t something we spent hours discussing or experimenting with. It was simply part of life.

The only thing I can say is that they really enjoyed going out to restaurants and trying new foods, but when it came to making the food, that was more of my big sister’s and grandmother’s job.

But if there was someone in our family who was less interested in food, it has always been me. As a child, I had zero interest in food. Not only was I the pickiest, but my gut issues and allergies never helped make meal times easier.

And yet here I am now.

Spending entire afternoons developing recipes.
Reading baking science books for fun.
Watching videos for inspiration.
Trying to understand new techniques.

Somehow, the girl who had no interest in food became someone who now voluntarily spends hours making cookies and banana bread and cooking new meals, as if it were her full-time job.

So when my parents say they don’t know where this passion comes from, I am the first one to understand exactly what they mean.

But when I start thinking about it, I don’t fully agree that we are as different from them as they think we are.

Growing up:

I’m slowly figuring out that part of growing up is realising that similarities don’t always appear in the places you expect them to.

Sometimes they show up in completely different forms.

I also think part of growing up is realising that our parents never really know what they’re doing either.

When we’re children, we imagine adults have everything figured out. We think that at a certain age, everyone suddenly becomes confident and certain about who they are.

At least I did.

I thought my parents knew exactly what they were doing. But the older I get, the more I realise everyone is and has always been just trying their best.

Just like I am, they are figuring things out as they go and changing, even if they don’t seem to notice sometimes.

My parents never expected to have a daughter who would go on to study politics and economics, and now move on to study nutrition. Just like I never imagined my brother, someone who loved Biology, would become interested in business, and is thinking of studying next year.

Life truly has a funny way of surprising us all.

If I met my ten-year-old self today, I am pretty sure she would be as confused as I am, and wondering how I choose to spend my free time creating recipes instead of avoiding food altogether.

She would definitely be concerned by the amount of yoghurt I seem to consume, but that’s because she hasn’t tried soy yoghurt yet.

The thing is, food and I didn’t always have the best relationship.

Growing up with allergies and gut issues meant food often felt more like a problem than a source of joy. It was something that caused discomfort, anxiety and frustration.

Never in a million years would younger me have predicted that food would become one of the biggest passions of my life.

Yet somehow, here we are.

The more I create, the more ideas seem to appear. The more I want to do.

Sometimes I forget there was a version of me in the past that couldn’t cook pasta. That couldn’t bake a cake, let alone be trusted with a knife.

And perhaps that is why my parents are confused, because when they look at me, they don’t just see who I am now, but every version of me that came before.

The child who loved making up stories with her dolls.

The teenager was sure she was going to study computer science.

The adult, who is now still trying to figure out what to do next.

All of these versions exist at the same time.

Our values:

So while none of us will be becoming doctors anytime soon, like half of my family (including my parents) is, something that keeps us connected is the many underlying values they have bestowed upon us.

My dad’s curiosity.
My mum’s loves in helping others.
My dad’s stubbornness.
My mum’s problem-solving skills.

Those things are more a part of us than we realise.

Just like my dad, I am not particularly good at keeping my thoughts to myself when I feel strongly about something. And just like my mum, I am a bit shy when meeting new people, but once they earn my trust, like a dog, I am extremely loyal.

On the other hand, my brother inherited so much of my mum’s caring nature, and shares my dad’s love for economics, football and biology.

Then my sister, just like my dad, has this intensity about her, a presence that somehow fills a room without even trying. But like my mum, she loves spending the day at home relaxing on her own, too.

So maybe we aren’t that different after all.

Maybe we’re simply different expressions of the same foundation.

Different combinations of similar ingredients.

Sourdough apple cinnamon rolls:

I know I’ve made cinnamon rolls twice now, but after improving my first recipe by adding a banana tangzhong (a new technique I’ve been learning), I had to make a recipe where the banana was out of the equation.

With this recipe, I am not out to make something revolutionary. There are probably millions of apple cinnamon roll recipes out there, and some that might even have sourdough. But I haven’t seen a plant-based one yet, that also happens to have sourdough and be filled with caramelised apples.

And since I now have some time on my hands, with the summer holiday, I thought it was the perfect weekend project. My only regret was not making more than nine.

They might look like some ordinary rolls, but the sourdough brings depth, the apples bring brightness, and the cinnamon brings warmth.

Each ingredient, just like our family, brings something different to the party without trying to overpower or imitate the others.

They work together to create something better than any one ingredient could achieve alone. Perfectly sweet and fluffy at the same time.

However, what I am most proud of is that, while making these, it actually didn’t feel as hard as it was the first time around. I actually enjoyed the process more, and managed to make almost nine even rolls (unlike the first time)

So you can say I’m truly improving. It is just that sometimes I need to pause and look back, to see that while I might not be the same I was a few years ago, it doesn’t mean that the version I am now is any less than the ones that came before.

And that goes for my parents as well.

I know I might not be the little girl they once knew. But the reason I keep growing and evolving is thanks to the roots they gave me. The roots that keep me grounded when I feel lost.

The real goal isn’t to become a mini version of our parents, but to take what they give us and become something entirely new. Something that honours where we came from while allowing us to become who we are meant to be, so we can fly.

And if there’s one thing baking has taught me, it’s that the most interesting creations normally come from taking familiar ingredients and transforming them into something unexpected.

Not because they have never been done before, but because they might be the first time you are making them.

recipe down below ⬇️

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I absolutely detest raisins.

I literally think they are the devil’s favourite food.

Meanwhile, my family eats them pretty much every day. I don’t get how they can just enjoy them as if they were the air we breathe. Honestly, watching them casually snack on raisins straight out of the bag makes me question if we are even related 🫠 (maybe I am truly adopted???)

However, if you’ve followed me for a while, you probably already know that when it comes to apples, I could probably survive on eating them because that is how much I love them. Apple cake? Love it. Apple crumble? Devoured. Stewed apples with cinnamon? Life-changing. Basically, if apples are involved, I’m probably interested. Even if I prefer them raw, apple desserts will forever have my heart.

But for some reason, whenever apples appear in a dessert, raisins always seem to appear too. Like whyyyy!!!!

It’s like society collectively decided apples and raisins are soulmates, and no one asked for my opinion on the matter.

I could probably live without trying to enjoy them, but this year I’ve been trying to become more open-minded with food (examples include things like coconut, mango and chocolate ↓)

Most of the time, we decide we dislike something so strongly that we stop allowing ourselves the possibility of ever enjoying it in a different context. During this experimentation, I found that I only enjoy 100% dark chocolate, coconut cooked into desserts, and that mango is still fighting me, just like raisins and olives (sorry I just can’t!)

But despite my deep hatred for raisins, I decided to do something slightly chaotic:

To put them into pancakes and simply hope for the best 🥞

And honestly… I still hated them, BUTUTUUTT I did manage to eat them without throwing them up. So I’m considering it a big win!!!

Maybe it was the caramelised cinnamon apples.

Maybe it was the fluffy oat pancakes.

Maybe it was the creamy yoghurt layered in between everything.

But somehow they were actually partly edible.

Obviously, once my mum and sister tried them, they immediately started requesting them again, so I might have accidentally made them love raisins even more.

Moral of the story: I cannot see myself becoming someone who snacks on raisins anytime soon, but at least I gave it a go, and that must count for something, right???

sweet · 2-3 servings · high protein

1. In a bowl, mix 240 ml of soy milk with 15 g of lemon juice and let sit for 5 minutes.

2. In a separate bowl, mix 120 g rolled oats, 24 g cornstarch, 2 scoops of protein powder, 2 tsp baking powder, 1/2 tsp baking soda, a pinch of salt, cinnamon, nutmeg and a handful of raisins (depends on how much you like them).

3. To the dry mixture add the soy milk mixture and 30 g plain yoghurt. If too liquid, add another 1 tbsp of oats; if too dry, add a splash of soy milk.

4. Allow to sit for 10 minutes while you make the apple pie topping.

5. To make the stewed apples, add a diced apple to a pan with 3-4 tbsp maple syrup, some cinnamon, nutmeg and a tiny pinch of salt. Cook for 8–10 minutes until soft, glossy and caramelised.

6. In a clean pan, place a scoop of the batter, and depending on the size you want, it will make around 6–8 pancakes.

7. Cook each pancake for 4–5 minutes, flip them and cook for 2–3 minutes more.

8. To plate them, place the first pancake, spread yoghurt mixed with protein powder on top, place the next pancake on top, and finish the stack with yoghurt, half the stewed apples, and a drizzle of maple syrup.

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“You can’t use up creativity. The more you use, the more you have.”
~ Maya Angelou

How have I only realised that we are half way through the year already…
how is 2026 moving this fast!?!?!?

It genuinely feels like yesterday that the internet was collectively losing its mind over the viral yoghurt cheesecake. Every supermarket shelf suddenly seemed to be missing yoghurt and Biscoff biscuits because everyone decided to become a cheesecake expert overnight (more about it here ↓.)

And now somehow we’ve already moved on to the dot cake trend (which I still haven’t tried.) Although knowing me, I’ll probably suddenly wake up one day determined to veganise it and accidentally spend 7 hours recipe testing (but right now I don’t feel the need to try it.)

Food trends are funny like that.

Part of me loves them because I genuinely enjoy seeing creativity spread across the internet. I love watching how one idea evolves into thousands of different versions depending on the person making it.

Someone adds matcha.
Another makes it high protein.
Then someone turns it into cookies.
Others make it gluten free.
And then someone accidentally burns it but still posts it anyway (aka. probably me)

There’s something really beautiful about that collective creativity.

Obviously when they go viral, anything related to the latest trend has a big probability of going viral. So I could just stay up to date on the most viral food trends and just post that. And while I love trying new and fun ways to make food exciting, while making it nourishing in some way, I’ve realised that I don’t actually enjoy constantly chasing trends themselves.

What excites me most is seeing how I can take inspiration from things around me and reinterpret them in a way that still feels personal and true to what I enjoy creating.

My content:

I think lately that’s also exactly how I’ve been approaching content creation as a whole.

For the past few months, I’ve been thinking a lot about what I actually want my content to be. Not in a super calculated “personal branding strategy” type of way but more in a “what kind of content makes me genuinely excited to create?”

Because I think at the beginning I did put a bit of pressure on myself to make everything make sense together perfectly.

To have a niche.
A clear category.
To know exactly what kind of creator I am.

But the more I create content, the more I struggle to figure out exactly what that is. However, instead of being stressed about it I am slowly realising that trying to fit neatly into one label would be impossible. Not only because we human beings are way too layered, but also because I personally see myself as someone who loves exploring and dipping my toes in multiple hobbies.

Some days, I want to make reflective vlogs talking about adulting life.
Other days, I want to spend six hours testing cookie after cookie recipe.
Other times, I want to rant about politics because apparently my political science degree still refuses to leave my body.
And once in a while, I genuinely just want to film myself making tea and romanticising my little routines.

I used to think that I just had to pick a version of me, because I thought all of these couldn’t coexist. But they can! (I know big shocker 😜)

The thing is, that for a while I was scared that if I leaned too much into recipes then my youtube vlogs would mean nothing. Or if I changed the style of my Youtube videos people would feel disappointed because it wasn’t what they originally subscribed for.

But lately I’ve started asking myself a different question:

What if changing isn’t a bad thing?
(more about change here ↓)

Changing gears:

Realistically speaking, I’m not the same person I was one year ago. I’m definitely not the same person I was when I first started posting my youtube vlogs. But why do I then expect my creativity or what fuels me to stay exactly the same too?

Creativity is supposed to evolve with us.

What I am learning is that the more I allow myself to create freely, without trying to over-control every outcome, the more inspired I actually become. Creativity isn’t this finite thing that disappears if we use too much of it. If anything, I think suppressing creativity is what actually drains us.

The more I bake, the more ideas I get.
The more I write, the more thoughts appear.
The more I share, the more inspired I become to continue sharing.
And recently, I’ve really started to see more clearly what kind of creator I actually want to be.

Youtube is becoming softer. Less pressure to make every weekly vlog into an easy style vlog and more focus on simply sharing moments, routines, thoughts and pieces of life in a way that feel more cozy and big sister vibes. (As well as more sustainable for me creatively

Instagram has become this space where I get to share recipes that genuinely excite me. Recipes that hopefully inspire others to cook and bake more, nourish themselves more or simply enjoy food without turning it into something stressful.

And Substack has slowly become my favourite little corner of the internet. A place where I can combine storytelling, recipes, reflections and emotions all together without feeling rushed by algorithms or trends. It almost feels like my little archieve.

And TikTok… well… she’s currently sitting quietly on the sidelines for now, I’ve just haven’t had the time to edit some videos to post there (oopsies 😅.) I think after a while the pressure of constantly posting fast paced content started taking away some of the joy for me, especially after getting weird comments for months. So instead of forcing myself to continue, I decided to step away a little and focus on the platforms that currently feel healthier for me creatively.

Maybe I’ll come back to it properly one day.
Maybe not.

And while I would love to know where I am heading, right now, I am just letting myself be okay with not knowing everything immediately, and instead just figuring it out as I go.

Biscoff stuffed muffins:

Speaking of thinks I like, even if biscoff is not as trendy anymore, there’s just something I love about it, even if sometimes it makes my stomach upset (painful, but always worth it!!!)

So I don’t know why it has taken me this long to make biscoff muffins, and these weirdly represent exactly the kind of content and recipes I love making.

I was inspired by some ganache chocolate muffins I saw on youtube, and I was drooling watching her open these up and seeing all the incredible chocolate drooping out.

I just knew I had to make these, but when I was sitting down trying to write down the recipe before making them (as they were not vegan) I realised I didn’t have any chocolate.

I didn’t want to go to the store, to buy chocolate, but I didn’t want to wait another day before making them. So browsing around my pantry I stumble upon some biscoff spread and cookies I had recently bought, and the rest speaks for itself.

I had the solution right in front of me.

These were comforting and fun.
Indulgent while still balanced.
Nourishing without losing joy.

Now, I had never actually tried making stuffed muffins before, and after the first batch completely betrayed me and exploded in the oven, I became determined to figure out how to properly get that gooey Biscoff centre without ruining the texture of the muffin itself.

After a few tests, and two days of testing, and several moments of aggressively staring at muffin batter like it personally offended me (becuase it did feel like it was laughing at me), these finally became exactly what I wanted them to be.

Soft fluffy muffins with a rich Biscoff ganache centre and even more Biscoff on top because apparently subtlety is not one of my strengths (iykyk ↓)

But beyond just tasting good, these made me realise something else.

The more I experiment with baking science and recipe development, the more I genuinely fall in love with the process itself.

I love testing textures, understanding why ingredients behave the way they do, and trying to create recipes that feel both comforting and nourishing at the same time.

I said it once, and I will say it again, I wish this was my job. I don’t only enjoy baking/cooking but geniuenly creating things that feel real, comforting, creative and that I am always so excited to share.

So while I might not fully know what I’m doing yet, for the first time in a while, I think I’m gonna start trusting that I’ll figure it out by continuing to create anyway.

One recipe, one vlog or one slightly chaotic baking experiment at a time.

recipe down below ⬇️

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But recently, that’s exactly what happened.

I woke up and didn’t know what I wanted for breakfast. All I knew is that I wanted something savoury.

Normally, I would just do my go to savoury breakfast:

my secretly creamy tofu scramble

But that day I was not feeling it. I was just about to start making my yoghurt bowl, because I couldn’t think of something I wanted, but then as soon as I opened the fridge, something else caught my eye.

Some mashed potato I had done the day before for a recipe I was testing. Somehow my brain just thought of turning the leftover mashed potatoes into a sort of a pancake by using some chickpea flour that I’ve been wanting to use for awhile now.

I mixed in some spices and cooked them as I would a pancake, and OMG was I impressed. I was amazed how they were so crispy on the outside, yet soft, like mashed potatoes are, in the centre.

It was as if pancakes and hash browns had just had a baby and the result was the perfect vessel for some tofu and avocado, and the best way to start the day.

If you are a savoury breakfast gal, and have been thinking of experimenting with your breakfast, then I don’t think you can wait another day without trying to make these potato patties. The best part is that you can double or even triple the recipe, so you have your breakfast ready when that savoury craving hits for you too.

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savoury · meal prep friendly · one serving · high protein