Welcome to The Unrooted Kitchen

Hi, I’m Jessica.

I'm so glad you're here! Here is my food journey to date. 

I’m married to my biggest fan—and very willing taste-tester—for over 20 years, and together we’ve raised two almost-adult sons who are never shy about offering feedback (both glowing and brutally honest). Through my travels and frequent relocating, cooking has always been the constant thread running through my life, long before I ever thought of starting a blog.

I grew up in Ontario in a farming community, where meals were simple and hearty: potatoes, vegetables, and a small piece of meat. Fridays were special—DIY pizza kit night—and helping make that pizza is still one of my fondest food memories. To this day, I’ll recreate it with the exact same toppings, just for nostalgia’s sake.

My love of food began early, helping my mom and grandma in the kitchen. When I was about ten, my mom received a box of secondhand cookbooks, and I read them like novels—something I still do. The first thing I ever made on my own was a chocolate cake from one of those books. The layers were uneven, the chocolate hearts cracked and rough, but I was proud as punch. I had done it all myself. That cake sparked a lifelong joy of being in the kitchen.

As I got older, I gravitated more toward cooking than baking. I still enjoy desserts, but my true love lives firmly in the savoury world.

I married a Dutch farmer who grew up eating the same straightforward meals I did. There’s a Dutch saying: “wat de boer niet kent, dat vreet hij niet”—what the farmer doesn’t know, he doesn’t eat. I took that as a challenge. Slowly, I introduced variations on the meat & potato meals he knew: shepherd’s pie, scalloped potatoes, sauces instead of basic gravy. Over time, he became willing to try anything I made, which opened the door for me to cook more creatively and boldly.

Life and farming took us across the world. On Canada’s east coast, I discovered the joy of fresh seafood—from grilled lobster tails and mussels in butter sauce to clam chowder, lobster rolls, and fresh self-caught mackerel. Five years farming in Australia gave me a whole new appreciation for meat. Aussies know how to do it—English-style roasts in winter, pork slow-cooked on a spit in summer, always shared with family or friends. In farming communities, work is hard and meals need to fuel you: hearty portions, quality ingredients, and food meant to be enjoyed together.

Now we live in the Netherlands, surrounded by a rich multicultural food scene—Polish, Turkish, Moroccan, Syrian, Ukrainian, Indian, and more. I love trying foods from different cultures and recreating them at home. Lamachun (Turkish pizza) is a go-to on busy Fridays. I adore the spices and colors of Indian cooking, happily making trusted favorites like butter chicken alongside brand-new dishes. Cooking food from different countries has taught me new ways to use ingredients (cinnamon in meatballs!) and helped me embrace ones I once avoided—yes, even tofu can be delicious.

Travel always finds its way back into my kitchen. After trips to the UK, I go on a fish-and-chips kick. After Italy, I spent an entire summer cooking nothing but Italian food. A visit to the Austrian mountains introduced me to the best home-cooked sauerkraut, potatoes, and sausage I’ve ever had—and sauerkraut has been a staple in our house ever since.

I cook the way I live—guided by experience, memory, and instinct—letting dishes evolve naturally along the way. What matters to me isn’t chasing authenticity for its own sake or cooking by someone else’s rules. I take what I’ve learned, leave what doesn’t serve me, and cook for flavor first, always.

This blog is a reflection of my international journey through food. You’ll find comforting classics, global inspirations, savoury favorites, and recipes meant to be shared around a table. Nothing fussy—just good food, cooked with care, meant to bring people together.

Whether you’re here to find a recipe, learn something new, or simply read along, you’re always welcome. Pull up a chair, help yourself, and stay awhile.