"Leftovers" recipe archival & other musings

An intro to the new recipe series where I clear out 3 years of food content.

Watch the first video and follow along over on Instagram or TikTok.
There's a folder on my iPhone that I've been avoiding for the last three years. It's labeled “food content” and it's full of recipes that deserve better than just loose digital storage.

Every time I scroll past it, I feel this weight. Not guilt, exactly, but something heavier - the knowledge that I've been creating in a vacuum, hoarding recipes while I figured out how to re-emerge into v2 of myself. I once worked for a CEO who said pointedly to me “everything we do should always be a launch.” I held it close to my chest, but couldn’t figure out how to launch the parts of me that were always there. Now, that business no longer exists, and I’m still here trying to figure out the hodge-podge of things I’ve loved enough to shoot but then left behind.

Here's the thing about being a marketing director and culinary producer for some of the biggest food and media brands in the world, you can spend so much time perfecting other people’s work that you never share your own. In fact it’s easy. A company’s job is to sell. What I produced, whatever I marketed SOLD. But I wasn’t sure what I wanted to be selling, and I especially wasn’t sure that I wanted to be SOLD.

But I've been thinking about leftovers lately. How they're often better the second day. How flavors need time to marry and deepen. How sometimes the best meal comes from what you thought was just yesterday's dinner.

So I'm doing something that terrifies me a little: I'm opening the vault on my old video and recipe content to set myself free.

Over the next month (and then some - who knows how long this will go?!) , you're going to see a side of my cooking that I've kept hidden for whatever reason: perfectionism, imposter syndrome, a dread for video editing, poor time management, untreated ADHD. You'll find these recipes here in my newsletter with the full stories, and I'll be sharing the videos daily on Instagram and TikTok for those bite-sized moments of inspiration.

Late-night recipe experiments that surprised even me. Dishes that represent different seasons of my life, different versions of myself learning to trust her instincts. Meals I’ve made for friends but didn’t fully film, dinners for two with shoddy lighting, and a few favorites from the Brown Butter Supper Club (if you know, you know - those vinaigrettes became legendary).

Some of these recipes are from when I was still figuring out my voice. Others are from when I was too scared to use it. All of them deserve to exist in the world, imperfect and real and nourishing.

This isn't just about clearing out old content. It's about making space for what's coming next. It's about honoring the chef I was so I can become the storyteller I'm meant to be.

Because what I know now: your creativity doesn't expire. It just gets more interesting with time. We can dry-age beef. Barrel-age wine. Cave-age cheese. Preserve fruits into jams with sugar. So if the things that nourish your creativity can take their time to become better, juicier, stronger, more distinct - why can’t you?

Tomorrow starts with a focaccia that's been waiting to show you what happens when charcuterie board becomes bread. After that? We'll see what other surprises have been aging in my creative fridge. You ready?

Yours in butter, always brown. Extra browned this time.

Courtnee