I am a Software Engineer, Recipe Developer, Appalachian Cook and Patisserie/Desserts Maker.
Software Engineer
I’ve been wrangling code for over 30 years—long enough to remember when “the cloud” was just weather. These days, my preferred toolkit includes Linux, Node, Python, Pandas, MySQL/NoSQL, and a healthy dose of Canvas, D3, and whatever JavaScript framework hasn’t gone obsolete this week.
After four decades in the trenches, I’ve seen everything from punch cards to AI hype cycles. My résumé? Available on request—for people I think genuinely need it. This site isn’t a job application—it’s more like brochure-ware for the curious. I already have more folks asking for my help than I can keep up with, which, honestly, is a good problem to have.
Recipe Developer
My flagship engineering project is FlavorSci—a graphically rich, flavor-matching database that crunches over 8 million ingredient pairings so chefs can stop guessing and start impressing. Want to know why ginger and basil go together like old friends at a farmers market? They share 53 sweet-flavored molecules, 9 almond-ish ones, and nearly 200 overlapping flavor profiles ranging from rose and peanut to lavender and “pleasantly bitter” (which sounds like most chefs I know).
The connections are mapped with color-coded lines showing how strong the complements are—like a dating app for ingredients, but with more data and fewer awkward conversations. And while basil and ginger have a lot in common, the graphs reveal that ginger is actually closer to orange, pears, lemons, carrots, rice, and tofu. Basically, ginger gets around.
If you’re curious (or culinarily ambitious), access to FlavorSci is available—just shoot me an email.
Appalachian Cook ( and other cooking )
I never call myself a chef. That title belongs to the pros—the ones commanding kitchens, wrangling staff, and pulling off culinary magic under pressure. I’m just a cook. A curious, obsessive, Appalachian-rooted cook who happens to know my way around a hot stove and a fermentation crock.
I’ve spent a good chunk of time in Kentucky diving deep into my Southern Appalachian heritage—and I do mean Southern Appalachian. That’s an important distinction, especially since I technically now live in upstate, Appalachian Connecticut, which, while geographically correct, doesn’t quite capture the spirit of coal smoke, dry beans, and ramp breath.
Appalachian cuisine isn’t just “Southern food with a banjo.” It’s built around what could be grown, hunted, foraged, or preserved—corn, beans, squash, wild greens, game, smoked meats. We’re talking old-school preservation: drying, pickling, smoking, and fermenting, not Instacart and vacuum sealers.
These days, I cook mostly for a handful of regulars across the L.I. Sound in the Hamptons and Amagansett—clients who are Appalachian food fans. The obvious: I’ve toned it down a bit: hog brains and eggs are off the menu (unless you’re signing a waiver). But I stick to the roots—no sugar in the cornbread, ever. That’s a hill I will die on.
Patisserie/Desserts Maker
This is definitely my soft spot—more passion project than polished expertise. I came to the world of pastry a bit late in life, wide-eyed and already waist-deep in admiration. But once I discovered the magic of packing big flavor into tiny, beautiful bites, I was hooked. Entremets? Patisserie? It’s edible architecture, and I’m obsessed.
While I wouldn’t dare call myself a pastry chef (see: “came late, still fumbling with a piping bag”), I’ve managed to pick up quite a bit along the way—partly through my work as an occasional technical consultant for Pastry Arts Magazine, and partly through some shamelessly strategic bartering: I trade nerdy tech knowledge, and in return, real pastry pros kindly tolerate my barrage of questions.
I did get a bit more legit in 2024 when I trained in chocolate at École Ducasse in Paris. ( Oui, Ooo-la-dee-da! )