About me

Hi there! I’m Sarah Whitmore, 30 years old, currently cooking and creating in the lush countryside of Vermont. I wasn’t born with a whisk in my hand or raised in a bustling family kitchen—no, my path to the culinary world was a bit more meandering, peppered with surprises, mistakes, and moments of magic that changed everything.

I grew up in suburban Ohio, where dinner was dependable but rarely daring. It wasn’t until my early twenties, while living in New York City and working a dull publishing job, that I stumbled into a tiny Oaxacan restaurant that changed my life. The mole negro I tasted that night was so layered, smoky, and mysterious—it cracked open something in me. I found myself asking questions: How did they build this flavor? What stories were hidden in that sauce?

That single dish sent me down a rabbit hole of books, late-night experiments, and food truck line chats with strangers. Eventually, I left my editing job and enrolled in a small culinary program upstate. It wasn’t the fanciest, but it gave me the fundamentals and, more importantly, the freedom to play.

Over the years, I’ve cooked in cramped kitchens in Portland, taught fermentation classes in Asheville, and run a rustic supper club out of a renovated barn. I’ve burned things, oversalted too many stews to count, and once dropped an entire tray of almond tarts right before service. But I’ve also nailed a charred cabbage dish that made a grown man cry and perfected my sour cherry hand pies after eight failed batches.

These days, I’m obsessed with seasonal ingredients, old cookbooks, and fermentation. I’m not after perfect plating or Michelin stars. I’m chasing that feeling—that spark when a flavor surprises you, when a dish tells a story bigger than itself.

If you’re like me—curious, hungry, and unafraid to make a mess—I think we’re going to get along just fine. Let’s talk food, share failures, and celebrate the beautiful chaos of cooking.

Welcome to my kitchen.