When someone starts telling me what they’ve made for dinner, I put everything away and listen like it’s a god damn thriller. I once revealed in an essay that I have a borderline addiction to reading cookbooks. I make inappropriate accompanying noises when basting a chicken or caramelizing onions; for me, the term foodie doesn’t cut it. Getting paid to write about what food I ate at some hole-in-the-wall is like handing the keys of a Ferrari to an adrenaline junkie. If you’d like me to take your restaurant or recipe for a spin, please email me at

Les Hommes Cambodia

Ladies Magazine Cambodia (Editing work)

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