Imagine a (culinary) world where…

Hold on tight, I’m putting forth a vision.

When we laid our consumer research side-by-side with our creator research, certain findings literally jumped off the page. You know those lightbulb moments that make you want to grab the nearest person and say "You've got to see this"? Yeah, it was like that. Here's the thing about genuine user research – you never know what you're going to uncover, and that's exactly the point. If you go in with rigid expectations, you're doing it wrong.

The beautiful surprise was that our culinary community's two sides are more in sync than anyone realized. Consumers and creators aren't just speaking the same language – they're practically finishing each other's sentences on some of the industry's biggest challenges. This isn't just interesting data; this is the kind of insight that could reshape how we think about the entire culinary ecosystem.

Monetization

Let's start with a juicy one, monetization. Right now, creators are stuck in a bizarre situation where they're building massive audiences but scratching their heads about sustainable income. Consumers have said loud and clear that they want to support creators more directly. But forcing people to choose between a monthly subscription or nothing at all is like offering someone either a five-course meal or an empty plate. The data shows there's this whole middle ground of support models we're completely missing.

Creation and Discovery

Then there's the hamster wheel of content. Creators are burning themselves out trying to appease the algorithm's whims. Meanwhile, consumers just want to find what they're looking for when they're ready to cook. "Newest" – a concept core to content creation – is actually meaningless for recipe discovery. It won't help you plan a dinner party, find a vegan coffee cake, or meal plan for your family. So we have this painful irony: creators push themselves to constantly produce more content, while consumers simply want better search. It's wild that in 2024, you can search for literally anything online except a high-quality recipe that matches your needs and tastes. The recipes are there – creators are producing a constant stream of them. But if they're not discoverable in a meaningful way, they might as well not exist.

Community

Here's where it gets really interesting: the community dynamics. As I've said in the past, culinary creators aren't just in it for the views or likes – they're genuinely driven by the relationships they build with their audiences. And consumers aren’t looking for a one-way cooking broadcast either. They're seeking real interaction, treating recipes less like manuals and more like conversations. When a creator shares a recipe, it's not the period at the end of a sentence – it's the beginning of a dialogue about technique, variations, and personal touches.

The problem is that right now, these conversations are trapped in a digital wasteland. Imagine making a brilliant modification to a recipe or having a story about how it became your family's new tradition – where does that insight go? Into the void of comment sections, buried under a pile of fire emojis and "Yum!" reactions. Or maybe into DMs, where your experience becomes a private message instead of enriching the recipe for everyone else. We're forcing vibrant culinary conversations into formats that were built for hot takes and quick reactions, not meaningful dialogue about food. Countless insights, innovations, and connections are lost to the ephemeral nature of social media interactions.

I ended my last post by posing this question, "Imagine a world you could start from scratch. How would you build [a new culinary ecosystem]?" Like I said, it's my favorite question in user research because it gives people permission to dream beyond the constraints of what exists today. But admittedly, it's hard to think outside the box, and it's even harder to act outside of it (s/o Sally). Most people can’t live in the dream state of "what if" on a regular basis; our lives are busy, we're always on the move, and honestly, we've got bigger fish to fry (pun intended). But as a technologist, it's my responsibility to exist in that dream state – to study an industry, to dream the "what ifs," and to backwards engineer the how.

There's a quote written on the whiteboard behind my desk that I read at least once a week: "If I had to solve this problem today, with the technology available, would the solution look the same?" This question cuts through the noise. It challenges us to see beyond the status quo of social media feeds, ephemeral interactions, and algorithmic pressures to what's actually possible.

The answer is no – the solution wouldn't look anything like what we have today. This reframing totally shifts how we think about building a new culinary platform. Instead of forcing creators and consumers into rigid, algorithm-driven boxes, we need to create spaces that support the natural behaviors and connections that make cooking meaningful. Technology should amplify the human elements that make cooking social, not try to automate them away.

We have all the ingredients for something revolutionary: creators who want to build genuine connections, consumers eager to engage meaningfully, and technology capable of facilitating these interactions in ways that current platforms simply can't. The question isn't whether we can build a better culinary ecosystem – it's whether we're willing to imagine it first.

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So… we've had a bit of press lately.

Changing Tastes by Alys Keys at Digital Frontier covers the digital food landscape. An avid cook herself, Alys dives into how we got here, and where we’re going (spoiler, Roux). I met Alys when my co-founders and I were in London this spring; she was inspired by our experiences between food and tech, and I love her perspective on our little corner of culture. 

Alexis at Glitter Ledger, a podcast about crypto but not about crypto, sat down with me to talk about dobos torte and the difference between WeWork bros and crypto bros. Alexis is absolutely hilarious and you don’t need to know a thing about blockchain to have a laugh.