The Head Distiller. The Historian. The Rebel.

I grew up in St. Stephen, New Brunswick, shaped by the grit and salt-of-the-earth resilience of a small border town. After a journey that took me from the rugged coast of Victoria, B.C., back to the heart of Fredericton, I realized that the "big adventures" I was seeking weren't just across the country—they were hidden in our past.

Reclaiming the Scrappy Spirit As a former professional Head Distiller, my world was defined by the precision of science and the alchemy of transformation. But my heart belongs to the "Scrappy Rebel" spirit of Atlantic Canada—the generations of women and men who survived and thrived by knowing how to rescue, reclaim, and reimagine everything around them.

The Mission Armed with my apron and a collection of manuals and cookbooks dating back as far as the 18th century, I am on a mission to prove that history isn’t a museum piece—it’s a toolbox. I’m stripping the dust off forgotten culinary wisdom and testing it with a distiller’s rigor to help us all live a more resilient, flavorful life.

When I’m not in the kitchen or the archives, you’ll find me in my Fredericton home, managed by my three dogs, two cats, and a very patient husband.

History isn’t a place to visit; it’s the rebel’s toolbox. Let’s get to work.

Born in a Kitchen Without Recipes

My education didn't begin in a distillery lab; it started on a kitchen counter in St. Stephen. I grew up watching my father work a specific kind of magic—the ability to build complex, savory flavors out of thin air, guided by intuition rather than a page. He taught me that the best creations come from what you have on hand, not what you buy at the store. That was my first lesson in culinary rebellion.

While my father mastered the savory, my mother was the guardian of the craft. A prize-winning baker of jams and cookies, she is—and always will be—the Queen of Pies. To watch her work a crust is to witness a disappearing art form. Whether it’s her signature apple or the butterscotch pie I’d still fight a stranger for, her kitchen was a masterclass in precision and tradition.

From Countertop to Chemistry Those early years gave me the "Spirit," but my career as a Head Distiller gave me the "Science." Today, I take that childhood wonder and apply it to the 160-year-old wisdom of the Dr. Chase manuals. I’m not just recreating my parents’ kitchen; I’m documenting the resilience of an entire region.

I’m the Scrappy Rebel because I believe the skills of our parents and grandparents—the ability to create, preserve, and reimagine—are the most valuable tools we own.

An Adventurous Palate, An Ancient Toolbox

I’ll admit it: my journey started with a legendary sweet tooth. I was the child who could—and did—eat five desserts in a row, much to my family's amusement (and occasional embarrassment). But as my craft evolved, so did my palate. Today, I find myself drawn to the complex, the savory, and the unexpected.

The Culinary Frontier Being a "Scrappy Rebel" means having the courage to try anything once. This serves me well at home, where my husband treats our kitchen like a laboratory for the world’s most unique ingredients, and even better in my research. I don't just look at old recipes; I stress-test them.

Rescuing the Handwritten Word My true weakness isn't sugar anymore—it’s the ink-stained, hand-written recipes tucked inside journals or passed between friends on tattered cards. I am currently deep-diving into culinary manuals dating back to the 1700s, looking for the "lost" flavors of Atlantic Canada.

To me, a recipe isn't just a set of instructions; it’s a time capsule. It’s an expression of love, a survival tactic, and a piece of history that deserves to be rescued from the back of the drawer and put back on the table.