I never pictured myself living in Michigan. Honestly—why would I?

Of all the places on the map, Michigan was never on my list. I can’t even give you a solid reason. Chalk it up to one of those unconscious biases you carry around without realizing it. Growing up in Pennsylvania had its perks, but it also came with a narrow frame of reference. Somewhere along the way, I decided Michigan was the kind of place you lived only if you were born there and had no choice in the matter.

Turns out, I was in for a surprise. And surprises, by definition, don’t announce themselves.

From what I knew of Ann Arbor, it seemed like a promising place to launch my personal chef venture. “Tree Town” has its own charm—home to the University of Michigan, Domino’s Pizza, and Borders Books, just to name a few. Add in a rich mix of cultures and you get a small city with an unmistakably intellectual, artsy vibe. Tree-lined neighborhoods, bike lanes, bookstores, coffee shops, and independent restaurants give it a relaxed yet cultured feel. It’s no wonder it consistently ranks among the most livable cities in the country.

But three weeks after we arrived, Covid-19 shut everything down. Overnight, the vibrancy of this community faded to black. For the next two years, my work revolved around recipe development and picking up jobs wherever I could.

I joined Katherine’s Catering on the west side of town. Up until early March 2020, business was booming—then the virus wiped out nearly half of it. I helped develop menus for home-delivered meals, because that’s all anyone could do. Weddings, parties, gatherings—gone. “Heart of the Home” was born out of necessity, and it kept the company afloat for a while. But eventually, the economy couldn’t sustain it, and I was laid off.

After some time, Sur La Table began reopening their cooking classes in Arbor Hills. I stepped in as an instructor and found myself energized by the challenge—prepping ingredients, organizing equipment, and teaching groups ranging from two to sixteen. The prep could be stressful, but the teaching was a joy.

Meanwhile, Z’Chef sat dormant until September 2021. Then I met my first client, and my personal chef career took flight again. I was encouraged—thrilled, really. The community I had hoped would embrace my style of cooking finally did. One client became two, then three, and the momentum continued.

Since then, I’ve cooked for intimate dinners, large catered events, and weekly meal deliveries for clients across the area. Six years in, I can say without hesitation that this place—this city and region I once dismissed—has become a genuine joy to me. It’s home.