Hi there! I’m Emily just a girl who fell head over heels for food and never looked back. I’m 32, born and raised in North Carolina, and these days I call a cozy little home in the Blue Ridge Mountains my culinary playground. If you ever hear a smoke alarm in the background of my videos, don’t worry it’s just part of the process..
My journey into the kitchen wasn’t glamorous. I didn’t go to culinary school or grow up with a grandma who taught me secret family recipes (though I really wish I had). What I did have was a beat-up copy of a Southern cookbook from a thrift store, a lot of curiosity, and an unreasonable obsession with Food Network when I was supposed to be studying for finals.
Over the years, I cooked my way through joy, heartbreak, tiny apartments, and one very questionable college kitchen. I learned how to stretch a dollar and make it delicious, how to bake when I was sad, and how to turn cooking into a love language. I’ve burnt things, underseasoned more than I’d like to admit, and once tried to make bread in a slow cooker (spoiler: don’t). But every mistake taught me something, and that’s what this blog is really about getting in the kitchen, trying things, laughing at the flops, and high-fiving yourself when it turns out amazing.
I started Emily Tasty Blog to share real recipes for real life. Think cozy casseroles, lazy weekend brunches, no-fuss weeknight dinners, and the kind of desserts you “accidentally” eat for breakfast. I’m all about flavor without the fuss nothing too fancy, nothing too intimidating. If you can chop an onion, you can cook with me.
When I’m not in the kitchen, I’m usually chasing after my two favorite taste-testers my son Mason (he’s 5 and a total mac and cheese connoisseur) and my daughter Lily (4, and already insists on “helping” me stir everything). My husband Jake is the reason I learned to cook steak properly he’s my biggest supporter, my go-to dishwasher, and the calm to my flour-dusted chaos. Our kitchen is loud, a little messy, and always full of laughter, and honestly, I wouldn’t have it any other way.
Jake and I met in the most unexpected way at a friend’s backyard BBQ where I managed to drop an entire plate of ribs on his shoes. Somehow, that turned into late-night pizza dates, then a wedding under twinkly lights and mason jars. Marriage, like cooking, has its messy moments, but we’ve built a life full of love, laughter, and way too many “just one more bite” moments. He’s the one who encouraged me to start this blog in the first place, and I’m forever grateful for his steady belief in me even when the oven’s on fire and dinner’s an hour late.