From Thanksgiving Gravy to Global Kitchens: How Collaboration Shaped My Culinary Journey

Before international collaborations.
Before guest chef invitations across Singapore, Dornach, Berlin, and Sydney.
Before the all-women kitchen at the James Beard House.
There was one particular kitchen: my mother’s.

It was Thanksgiving in suburban Westchester. My mother had flown to Ghana for her own mother’s funeral, leaving me in charge of the meal. She said she’d ordered a turkey.

The day I went to pick it up, it was a duck.

She said I could handle the Ghanaian-style gravy—a tomato-rich, spicy, onion-laced sauce that can define a meal. I stirred and adjusted and hoped. When my brother took a bite, he paused.

“This isn’t gravy,” he said. And he wasn’t wrong.

That honest moment stayed with me. I realized my strengths might lie beyond tradition. I leaned into desserts, sides, textures, and structure. I began collaborating—not just to cook, but to create shared stories.

In January 2024, that path led to Singapore Art Week, where I partnered with Chef Ivan Brehm of Nouri. Together, we designed a truly blended four-handed dinner—an expression of African and Asian intersections that honored both our traditions without dividing the menu by geography.

I’ve learned from every kitchen since:
— A quiet lesson in Berlin, where Chef Micha Schäfer’s ingredient-first approach challenged my own spice-forward lens.
— Watching Chef Kobus van der Merwe cook in tune with tide and terroir in Australia.
— A shared laugh with Chef Erik Bruner-Yang in D.C., when he tasted dawadawa and said, “This is the missing piece for my vegan fish sauce alternative.”
— Unexpected collaboration with architect Mae-Ling Lokko, blending edible installations with sustainable design from Accra to Istanbul.

These experiences remind me that the best meals are often born not from ego, but from exchange. From the courage to taste each other’s truths.

But the first lesson came from my mother’s kitchen.
Small house. Charcoal grill. Neighbors peeking through their windows as we grilled fish in the snow.
That kitchen taught me that food is memory.
That collaboration starts at home.
That even when the gravy’s off—you’ve begun something.

And maybe, that’s what makes the best kind of table.

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