About Me

Hello there! I’m Freddie Morgan, and I’m 42 years old, living in the green and rainy heart of Yorkshire, England. My kitchen window overlooks fields that stretch far beyond the eye can see, often dotted with sheep, and sometimes with my two children playing football in the mud. It’s from here, amidst the steam of boiling kettles and the scent of fresh thyme, that I’ve grown my love for cooking.

I wasn’t always a chef. I spent the better part of my twenties managing a small bookshop in Leeds, where I was better known for recommending thrillers than for my shepherd’s pie. But cooking was always simmering quietly in the background. I remember one rainy Sunday, stuck indoors with a borrowed copy of Delia Smith’s cookbook, I made my first proper roast chicken. The skin wasn’t crisp and the carrots were more boiled than roasted, but the pride I felt when my mum asked for seconds was unforgettable.

It wasn’t until I turned thirty that I took the plunge and enrolled in a local culinary course. I felt out of place at first—surrounded by younger students who knew their béchamel from their velouté—but I was stubborn and curious. I burnt things, dropped eggs, and once managed to turn a risotto into something resembling porridge. But with every flop came a little triumph. I learned that confidence in the kitchen doesn’t come from perfection, but from the courage to keep stirring the pot.

Now, I cook full-time, mostly for local events, private dinners, and cooking workshops for beginners. That’s where my heart really lies—helping folks who’ve never held a whisk or feared the sound of a pressure cooker. I love showing people that cooking doesn’t have to be fancy or flawless to be joyful and deeply satisfying.

My style is simple, comforting, and unpretentious. Think buttery crumbles, hearty stews, and the sort of soups that make you want to pull on a thick jumper. I believe in recipes as guidelines, not rules, and that a splash of something unexpected can make a dish your own.

So, if you’re just starting out, don’t worry about getting everything right. Burn the toast, oversalt the stew—just keep cooking. I’m here to cheer you on, share what I’ve learned (often the hard way), and celebrate every small victory with you, from your first scrambled egg to your first dinner party.

Cheers from my kitchen to yours, Freddie