Welcome to my kitchen!

Bonjour! Or should I say, ciao? My name is Marc Moretti, I’m 44 years old, and I live in a cozy neighborhood just outside Seattle, Washington. My roots are a beautiful braid of French finesse and Italian warmth—a heritage that’s flavored every moment of my life.

I didn’t start out as a chef in any traditional sense. I was a schoolteacher for years, the kind who always snuck in a lesson on making perfect crêpes or homemade gnocchi when the curriculum allowed. But somewhere between grading papers and prepping dinner for my two children, I realized that food had become my true language. It was how I celebrated, how I healed, how I connected.

My nonna on my father’s side was Italian, from Emilia-Romagna, and she could turn a bag of flour and a few eggs into magic. My French maman taught me the beauty of patience in the kitchen—how to let an onion caramelize slowly, or why a simple ratatouille tastes best the next day. From them, I learned that cooking isn’t about perfection; it’s about care, joy, and a dash of daring.

What I want more than anything is to help others find that same joy. If you’re just starting out, I’m here to tell you: don’t be afraid. Everyone burns a garlic clove now and then (trust me, I still do). Everyone makes a sauce that ends up too salty or a pastry that won’t rise. The important part is showing up in your kitchen with curiosity and a little courage.

I keep my recipes simple, honest, and rooted in tradition, but I love throwing in playful twists—like a lavender panna cotta inspired by my childhood summers in Provence, or a rustic tomato tart with a hint of lemon zest. Cooking should feel like a warm conversation, not a lecture.

So, welcome. Pull up a chair. Let’s cook something beautiful together. And remember, even if your soufflé falls, the effort still counts—and sometimes, those “failures” turn into new family favorites. I’m so glad you’re here.