My Story

I grew up on a farm, where the food on our table wasn't something we bought — it was something we grew, tended, and understood. We knew where every vegetable came from, whose hands had planted it, how long it took to ripen. Looking back, I didn't realize then how rare that kind of knowledge would become, or how much it would shape who I am.

That upbringing gave me a simple belief I've never let go of: we are what we eat. Not as a saying, but as something I felt every day — in the way real food makes you feel, and the way it connects you to the people you share it with.

When I started teaching cooking classes from our own kitchen, it wasn't a business plan. It was an invitation — to let people into our home, our ingredients, our way of doing things, and watch them fall in love with Thai food the way I have my whole life. Some of the moments I've shared in that kitchen are ones I'll never forget — quiet mornings prepping herbs with a stranger who became a friend by lunchtime, celebrations, special occasions, people from every corner of the world sitting down together over a meal they made with their own hands.

The granola came from somewhere quieter. Years of trying, adjusting, tasting — not because I set out to build a product, but because I wanted something honest to eat, made the way I'd want to feed my own family. When people started telling me it was the best they'd ever had, and coming back again and again, I understood that the same love that goes into a cooking class can go into a jar of granola, too.

Everything I make — a class, a granola blend, an energy ball — comes from the same place: a farm, a family, and a belief that good food should be kind to your body and to the earth it came from. Fit people don't live longer, but they die healthier. So we stay active, we stay curious, and we never forget to find joy in the small things.

Thank you for being part of this story — whether you've cooked beside me, tasted something I made with my own hands, or you're just discovering us for the first time. There's always room at the table.

— Sasi