Hi there! I’m Maddie Thompson, a 38-year-old chef living just outside of Asheville, North Carolina, where the mountains roll and the seasons still matter. I’ve been cooking for as long as I can remember, and honestly, I think it all started with a blueberry pie disaster when I was eight. The crust was a mess, the filling bubbled over, and my parents still claim it was the best “blueberry soup” they ever had. From that moment on, I was hooked. Not just on getting it right, but on the joy that comes from feeding people something made with care and a bit of stubborn love.
I didn’t go to a fancy culinary school. I learned in diners and bakeries, from weathered old cookbooks and spirited conversations with farmers at Saturday markets. My mentors wore aprons, not chef’s whites, and taught me that real cooking isn’t about perfection. It’s about connection. I worked in a few bustling restaurant kitchens in my twenties, sure, but my heart was always in home kitchens. That’s where the laughter is louder, the ingredients are seasonal (or whatever’s in the fridge), and the wine flows as freely as the stories.
These days, I spend my time teaching local cooking classes, testing recipes in my sunlit kitchen, and hosting long, lazy supper clubs that stretch well into the night. I’m big on approachable meals that feel a little special. Think cast iron skillet cornbread with brown butter honey or roasted tomato soup with grilled pimento cheese sandwiches. I believe in scratch cooking, but I’m no purist. Store-bought puff pastry is a blessing. Rotisserie chicken is a weekday hero.
What lights me up most is helping folks feel confident in their own kitchens. Cooking should be joyful, not intimidating. It’s okay to burn the toast or overseason the stew. We’ve all been there. I’ve had soufflés fall, cakes cave, and one unforgettable attempt at homemade sausage that led to a minor kitchen fire and a lifelong ban on smoking paprika (kidding… mostly).
So if you love butter-slicked vegetables, big-hearted meals, and stories shared over second helpings, pull up a chair. Let’s cook something together.
