Giving Drinks a Seat at the Table

The First Time I Fed Everyone

My love affair with cooking started when I was ten.

Not in a cute, “I helped stir the batter once” way. More like: I was in charge. I was making dinner for my family—bacon, eggs, and bread—and I remember the exact kind of focus that drops over you when you realize people are going to eat what you put in front of them.

It wasn’t fancy. It wasn’t trendy. But it was real responsibility, the kind that makes your hands move a little faster and your senses switch on. The sound of bacon hitting a hot pan. The smell changing as it crisps. The moment eggs go from glossy to set, and you have to decide whether you’re the type of person who pulls them early or lets them go another minute.

I was ten, but I felt like I’d been handed a little bit of power.

And I loved it.

Brownies, Whole Wheat, and the Point of No Return

Soon after, I baked my first batch of brownies.

I didn’t do it the “proper” way either—I used whole wheat flour because that’s what we had at home. There was no dramatic plan. No Pinterest-perfect pantry. Just a kid wanting to make something good, using what was available.

That batch mattered more than it should have.

It taught me something I still carry with me: cooking isn’t about waiting until you have the ideal ingredients, the ideal equipment, the ideal level of confidence. Cooking is about getting curious, making choices, and accepting that sometimes the thing you make will be different from what you imagined—but still worth eating.

From there, there was no looking back.

Why I’ve Always Been Drawn to Drinks

Most people talk about food first: the main course, the snack, the dessert. Drinks get treated like background noise—something to wash the meal down with, an afterthought, a side character.

But I’ve always been obsessed with what people sip.

Beverages carry culture in a way we don’t always notice. They’re tied to weather, routine, hospitality, and comfort. They show up at thresholds: when someone arrives at your home, when the day shifts from work to rest, when you need to settle your stomach or soothe your nerves.

And yet, so many traditional drinks are dismissed.

They’re framed as “just” something on the side. Something optional. Something you buy bottled and forget about.

That dismissal is strange when you think about it, because drinks can hold as much intention as a meal. Sometimes more.

The Idea Behind Good Gut Hut

Today, I’m the proud owner of a beverage brand called Good Gut Hut.

The heart of it is simple: we celebrate gut-friendly recipes from across the world, especially the kinds of drinks that deserve more respect than they get. The ones that belong on the table, not in the shadows behind it.

Good Gut Hut exists because I wanted to bring those beverages back into our meals—back into everyday life—not as an accessory, but as a layer of flavor and ritual.

A good drink can do a lot:

• It can add contrast (bright, tart, refreshing against a rich meal).
• It can extend a meal (something you linger over while talking).
• It can shift a mood (energize, settle, or soften the edges of a day).
• It can be a real alternative to evening coffee, when you want something warm and satisfying without defaulting to caffeine.

This isn’t about being precious. It’s about giving drinks the same dignity we give food.

“Gut-Friendly” Doesn’t Have to Be Boring

“Gut-friendly” gets misunderstood.

Some people hear it and imagine blandness. Restriction. A joyless parade of ingredients that taste like compromise.

That’s not what I’m here to build.

For me, gut-friendly is about being in a relationship with your body that’s rooted in taste and care. It’s about recipes that feel alive—full of depth, spice, tang, warmth, brightness—without pretending your digestion doesn’t matter.

There’s also something quietly rebellious about making the “supporting” parts of a meal unforgettable. About taking what’s usually overlooked and making it central.

Because the truth is: if a drink is good enough, it doesn’t just accompany food. It becomes part of the experience.

Seasonality Is the Secret Ingredient

Good Gut Hut celebrates seasonality, because seasonality isn’t just a foodie buzzword—it’s practical.

Your cravings change with the weather for a reason. Your body asks for different textures and temperatures as the world shifts around you.

Seasonality shows up in small, obvious ways—what’s fresh, what’s available—but it also shows up emotionally. What you want to hold in your hands. What you want to sip slowly. What you want to drink cold and fast.

When it’s warm out, you naturally lean toward drinks that feel:

• cooling
• crisp
• light
• refreshing

When it’s cold, you tend to reach for drinks that feel:

• warming
• spiced
• grounding
• comforting

Good Gut Hut is built around that idea: bringing you what suits the weather, not forcing the same thing year-round just because consistency is convenient.

Bringing Drinks Back to the Table

Somewhere along the way, we narrowed “beverages” down to a few defaults: water, soda, alcohol, coffee, tea. And even those have become rushed—chugged between meetings, grabbed in a disposable cup, barely tasted.

I want drinks to feel like food feels when it’s made with care.

I want them to have a presence at the table, not just in your hand while you’re distracted. I want them to be something you think about, even briefly, in the way you think about seasoning a dish—because the right drink can change the whole meal.

And honestly, I want them to be fun again. Not performative-fun. Actual fun: experimenting, tasting, adjusting, finding what hits.

How It All Loops Back to That Ten-Year-Old Kid

When I think about that first “dinner” I made—bacon, eggs, bread—I don’t romanticize it. It was simple. It was what we had. It was a child learning by doing.

But the thread is clear.

At ten, I learned I liked feeding people. I liked the practical magic of turning ingredients into something comforting. I liked the way the kitchen could change the mood of a whole home.

The brownies came next, with whole wheat flour and zero perfection, and they taught me not to wait for ideal conditions. Make what you can. Learn. Taste. Try again.

Good Gut Hut is just the adult version of that same instinct: take something that matters, take it seriously, and still keep it full of pleasure.

Conclusion

Good Gut Hut exists because beverages deserve more than a supporting role. They can be gut-friendly and still bold, flavorful, and satisfying. They can match the season, elevate a meal, or replace an evening coffee in a way that feels like a treat. And it all started with a ten-year-old who realized that feeding people is one of the most powerful, ordinary joys there is.