The first time I tried Sophia’s cooking, I was taken by complete surprise. She had just gotten back to Miami from a year at Le Cordon Bleu in London, and she played it cool, assuring me that there wouldn’t be a Michelin star or contract with the food network anywhere in the near future. So when our friends organized a Friendsgiving and she said she was bringing a few dishes, I wasn’t expecting much.I was not prepared, however, for those first bites of a moussaka—made from lamb sourced from a local farmer—that redefined my definition of comfort food. Or for that asparagus soup, puréed to perfection, that was so simply delicious that I felt like a better person just from eating it. Her cold, vegan sunbutter noodles, that she treated as an afterthought, were the best I ever had. And her paleo chocolate cake, dense and sparkling with salty chocolate chunks, put all other cakes—paleo or not—to shame. I did not expect that for days, weeks, even months, my mind would wander back to that Friendsgiving table. I quite literally couldn't stop thinking about the food Sophia had made. Food that had filled me, not with temporary and greedy discomfort, but with a satiating nourishment that permeated my being on every level. As if Soph's cooking, uncomplicated and approachable as it is, was bringing me a little closer to enlightenment. I found myself talking about the meal to my friends and family, craving that broccoli slathered in creamy seed spread, and wishing every meal could make me feel the same. Months later, Soph blessed me with another paleo chocolate cake, and again I felt that with each bite I was falling in love with the cake, with the moment, and with myself. There is something transcendent about her recipes—unique not only in composition and taste, but in how they leave you feeling. Not only because she sources every ingredient with the highest quality standards, and not just because she cooks with excitement, care, and love; but because her sensitivity, spirituality, and artistry is embedded in everything she creates. Somehow, her years of curatorial studies at Central Saint Martins reveal themselves through roasted squash sprinkled with goat cheese. Her searches for meaning and contentment can be felt while biting into something as simple as her breakfast porridge. When she cooks, Sophia’s impeccable taste, sensibility, and creativity come out to play. Her food takes you by surprise, simple, and always different. To say it’s made with love is an understatement. To eat a meal cooked by Sophia is to be taken care of in every way. Experiencing her cooking is an act of self love. Through the gift of complete meals, Soph restored my faith in the food industry and reminded me how to love myself.