#CookTogether: How a Trinidadian Chef just made me rethink everything about how I host celebrations.

A Trinidadian Chef teaching a cooking class just made me rethink everything about how I host celebrations. And I'm not exaggerating.

For years, I've been operating under the same unspoken rule: Be the perfect host. Clean the house spotless. Cook everything alone. Have it all ready before anyone arrives. Present the "perfect day."I thought this was a gift to my guests. That by doing everything myself, they could just show up and relax.

But here's the truth: by the time my guests walked through that door, I was exhausted. Stressed. Running on empty. And I'd completely missed the point of gathering in the first place.

Then I met Kele at a Migrateful cookery class. She taught us about cooking traditions in Trinidad, and as she spoke, I was transported to a completely different world.

She described how they prepare for weddings and celebrations: a house taken over by family and friends. Four men busy  cooking massive  bus-up-shot roti. Grandmas teaching the younger generation, testing if the Channa Aloo is ready by sticking a wooden spoon in the middle. Aunties laughing and gossiping as they drop pholourie into boiling oil. Music playing. Stories being shared.

The feast wasn't made by one exhausted person. It was created together.

The celebration didn't start when the food was served. It started in the kitchen.

And suddenly, I saw what I'd been doing wrong. I'd been so focused on the destination (the perfect meal) that I'd forgotten about the journey (the joy of making it). I have been cooking with my family but I have been so committed to being the "good host" that I'd accidentally excluded my guests from the most meaningful part—the creation itself.

Here's what the science tells us (and as a health detective this geeky part is my bread and butter) :when we cook and create alongside people we love, our bodies physically respond. Stress hormones drop. Our nervous systems shift from fight-or-flight to a state of calm. We release serotonin and oxytocin—those feel-good chemicals that make us feel connected and safe.

And when we're in that relaxed, joyful state, our digestion actually works better. 

So that big feast we've been stressing over? Our bodies handle it better when we've prepared it with laughter instead of anxiety.

Here's what I'm changing: from now on I'm going Trinidad.

For my next celebration—whether it's Christmas, a birthday, dinner party, Diwali, Eid, Hanukkah, or just a Sunday roast—I'm inviting guests to arrive earlier. Before the house is spotless. Before everything is done. While more pots are getting dirty and dishes pile up in the sink.

And I'm handing them an apron.

We're going to cook together. We're going to laugh when something goes wrong. We're going to tell stories while chopping vegetables. We're going to create memories IN the kitchen, not just at the table.

Because here's what I want my guests to know: you're not just invited to consume what I've created. You're invited to create it with me. I want my children to witness what it means to come together as a community and make something beautiful. I want to teach myself that perfection isn't the goal. Connection is. And I want to sit down at that table knowing that the laughter, the stories, and the slightly burnt potatoes are just as important as the final feast.

This holiday season—whatever you're celebrating—I'm trading perfection for presence.

I'm swapping the spotless house for the messy, joyful kitchen.

I'm choosing connection over control.

Because the best gift we can give the people we love isn't a flawless experience.

It's the invitation to be part of something real, imperfect, and beautiful. Who's with me?

Now over to you:

👉 If this resonates, please share this post. Someone in your network needs to hear that it's okay to let go of perfection.

👉 Comment below: What's one tradition from YOUR culture around food and gathering? I want to learn from all of you. (Seriously, I'm taking notes.)

👉 Tag someone who's always stressed about hosting. Let's normalise asking for help and sharing the load.

And if you've ever tried communal cooking or have a family tradition like Trinidad's approach, PLEASE tell me about it. I'm building a collection of beautiful traditions from around the world.