I’m Daniel Harper, the curious cook behind Mostly About Food.
I’ve been cooking for over 15 years, mostly in home kitchens like the one I cook in now.
I’m not classically trained, but I’ve spent years studying cookbooks, testing recipes repeatedly, and learning through hands-on experience.
Over time, I’ve developed and documented dozens of original recipes, refining them through repeated testing and feedback from family and friends.
Every recipe published here is cooked multiple times in my own kitchen before it’s shared, adjusted for clarity, and written with practical home cooking in mind.
Before this space existed, cooking was never about performance for me.
It wasn’t about mastering techniques quickly or chasing perfect presentation.
It grew slowly, in ordinary kitchens, through small mistakes, uneven pies, and the quiet realization that food doesn’t have to be flawless to matter.
I didn’t fall in love with cooking in a single cinematic moment. It began instead in my grandmother’s kitchen.
She took a bite, paused, and laughed. Instead of correcting me sharply, she simply said, “That’s how you learn,” and let the lesson settle on its own.
That moment stayed with me.
I learned early that cooking is not about avoiding mistakes. It is about staying curious enough to keep going. It is about tasting, adjusting, and understanding that even the failures have something to teach you.
Years later, after long workdays and everyday responsibilities filled my time, cooking became my way to slow down. Some nights produced dishes I returned to again and again. Other nights ended in experiments that didn’t quite work.
Both felt equally important. Friends and family began asking for recipes, for notes, for “whatever you made last week,” and eventually I needed a place to gather it all.
How Mostly About Food Was Born
Mostly About Food grew out of that quiet need to document the process.
Not the polished version of it, but the real one. The pans that heat up too quickly. The flavors that surprise you. The combinations that sound questionable until they somehow make sense.
I wanted a space where recipes could exist with context, where stories could sit beside instructions, and where imperfection didn’t need to be edited out.
This space holds the meals that shaped my evenings and grounded my days.
Every recipe here has been cooked in a real kitchen, adjusted more than once, and shared with people who didn’t mind the occasional experiment.
What This Website Is For?
Mostly About Food is a home cooking website focused on practical, repeatable recipes for everyday life.
The goal is simple: to share meals that work in real kitchens, with accessible ingredients and clear instructions.
This site is for home cooks who want reliable recipes without pressure for perfection.
I test everything myself, write from direct experience, and include adjustments where helpful so you can cook with confidence.
Most of the recipes here use everyday ingredients you can find in a standard grocery store.
When substitutions make sense, I note them clearly.
A Quiet Personal Life
I’ve never been someone who thrives in constant noise.
Crowded rooms drain me. Small talk feels rehearsed. I’ve always preferred spaces where I can think clearly, move slowly, and pay attention to the details most people rush past.
At home, that slower rhythm is shared with two constant companions: Basil and Crumb, my cats.
Basil is the observant one. He watches everything from the edge of the counter, as if quietly evaluating my knife skills. He pretends to be indifferent, but the moment I sit down, he’s there — steady, unbothered, and quietly loyal.
Crumb is different. Restless. Curious. The kind of cat who appears exactly when butter hits a hot pan or when a photo is almost perfectly framed. He has an uncanny ability to wander into every moment, especially the ones I don’t plan.
They move through the kitchen like they belong to it as much as I do. When music plays softly and something is simmering on the stove, they settle nearby, part of the evening ritual without ever demanding it.
Outside of cooking, I keep my life simple. I unwind with old cookbooks, half-finished playlists, and the comfort of repetition. A familiar recipe made slightly differently. A quiet dinner eaten without distraction.
These small, ordinary rituals ground me just as much as the food itself.
Because for me, cooking isn’t only about what ends up on the plate.
It’s about the atmosphere around it. The stillness. The company. The quiet moments that make everything feel whole.
My Cooking Philosophy
I cook with curiosity, not pressure.
Comfort food anchors me. Soups that simmer slowly. Pastas that don’t need much more than good olive oil and patience. Roasted vegetables that take their time and reward it. Desserts that bend the rules slightly but remain generous.
I am drawn to dishes that feel like a warm kitchen at the end of a long day. Food that doesn’t demand perfection, only attention.
Mistakes are part of the rhythm. Chocolate in chili. Cinnamon where it may not belong. Sometimes they stay. Sometimes they don’t. Either way, they become part of the story.
I follow standard home food safety practices when developing and testing recipes, including proper food storage, safe internal temperatures for meats, and clear ingredient measurements.
If a recipe requires special handling or preparation notes, I include them so you can cook safely and confidently.
What You’ll Find Here
Mostly About Food is not about flawless technique or performance. It is about presence.
You’ll find recipes that work and honest notes about the ones that needed adjusting. You’ll find comfort meals, quiet experiments, and reflections shaped by evenings spent cooking without rush. You’ll find food that feels lived-in rather than styled.
This website is personally written and managed by me, Daniel Harper. All opinions, recipes, and content are my own unless otherwise stated.
If you’re here to cook without intimidation, to experiment without fear, or to sit with a recipe long enough to understand it, you’re exactly where you should be.
Let’s cook with curiosity, patience, and just enough courage to mix up the sugar and salt once in a while.
