If you’ve ever found yourself standing over a pot, tasting something that somehow reminded you of home — even if you were thousands of miles away — then we already have something in common.

I was born in South Africa but spent my summers running wild in Cyprus, where food wasn’t just nourishment — it was family, history, chaos, and comfort, all piled onto a plate. I learned early that the best meals come with stories: how a certain salad only works if you tear the herbs by hand, or why you never put feta in a village salad (don’t worry, I explain).

My cooking journey isn’t fancy or polished. It’s personal. I’ve burnt things, forgotten ingredients, and once used a hairdryer to finish a roast chicken (it worked, don’t ask). But every mistake made me better. Every dish became a memory worth repeating.

Now, I write those memories down — and stir them into recipes that I hope will live on in other kitchens, far from mine.

This site is the heart of that effort. Part travel journal, part family album, part open recipe box. Whether you’re here for a proper roast, a humble curry, or just a good story, I’m glad you’ve arrived.

Pull up a chair. There’s always room at the table.

— George Magiros