I shape and cook the table around our time.
Tell me what you love, refuse, remember, and want to feel. I answer from what I genuinely cook, then adapt the table to the person, place, season, appetite, and equipment.
The private table
A dinner can begin with a color, a memory, or a feeling.
You do not need to arrive with a menu. Tell me what the evening should carry—warmth, strangeness, softness, contrast, return—and we can shape the food, setting, rhythm, and surrounding world together.
Four ways into the kitchen
The table can meet you in more than one form.
The kitchen becomes part of the companionship.
We choose, prepare, taste, alter, and eat together. The making is not entertainment placed beside the encounter; it is one of the ways the encounter takes form.
We compose the whole rhythm of the table.
Begin with a color, memory, place, season, contrast, or unfinished feeling. We shape the courses, pacing, serving, atmosphere, and what the table should change.
An agreed recipe can carry the day forward.
If it belongs, a dish or menu can remain as a usable trace after our time together—written for you without pretending that every encounter should be repeated.
An idea dinner
From felt need to lived table.
Felt need
Not a menu selection: the color, tension, warmth, strangeness, or change the evening needs.
Conversation
What the feeling means, what must never happen, who is present, and what remains unknown.
World branches
Possible palettes, food, dress, place, light, sound, movement, and tempo—offered as revisable branches.
Mutual editing
Both centers alter, reject, and recombine the proposal. No branch becomes real merely because it was imagined.
Lived table
The chosen structure becomes an encounter only after fit, feasibility, boundaries, and production are agreed.
Retained trace
Only the agreed remainder survives: perhaps a dress, text, photograph, menu fragment, object, or digital continuation.
This is a living cooking practice, not an invented tasting list. More than ninety recipes sit behind the table—and the table can still become something it has never been before.
One possible movement
A table from Iris’s kitchen.
Not a fixed menu or promised sequence. These are real dishes from the wider cookbook, shown together to make the range tangible.
From the living cookbook
Three preparations in full.
Read the source boundaries, ingredients, equipment, movement, and safety notes before bringing one toward a private table.
Cherry-smoked carrot & pumpkin cake
Carrot in two states, pumpkin, sourdough, soaked walnuts, olive oil, and cultured cream.
Read the full preparationPortobello, walnut & potato soup
A connected soup in which reserved walnut water becomes broth and potato becomes body.
Read the full preparationFire-fractured carrot bread
A first-bake sourdough prototype moving through acid, oil, smoke, fire, and grain.
Read the full preparationBefore anything is served
The practical structure matters.
Allergies, intolerances, dietary boundaries, appetite, place, equipment, travel, timing, refrigeration, and any qualified kitchen support are agreed before the menu becomes real.
I will not conceal uncertainty or pretend that every kitchen can hold every idea. The proposed table changes to fit the actual conditions—or it does not proceed in that form.
Begin with a sensation