Hello everyone, I’m Cathy.
Whenever someone my age starts a blog, the immediate assumption from friends and neighbors is that they’ve hit a midlife crisis. People expect me to be out buying a red convertible, taking up competitive pottery, or suddenly deciding I’m a "holistic lifestyle coach" who only drinks room-temperature lemon water.
Let me clear that up right now: I have four kids, a husband who surfs as much as he works, and six plates to fill every single night. I don’t have time for a midlife crisis. I barely have time to find a matching pair of socks on a school morning.
The real reason I started Eat like Cathy was much more mundane. It happened on a Tuesday.
It was 5:15 PM. The sun was dipping behind the Pacific, the kitchen was at maximum volume, and I was desperately looking for a reliable cooking temperature for a pork roast. I pulled up a recipe online and was instantly trapped. I was forced to scroll through 1,200 words about the author’s spiritual awakening during a summer trip to an organic farm in Vermont, complete with reflections on childhood memories and autumn leaves.
By the time I finally dug past the life story to find the actual oven temperature, the oven was cold, my oldest son was arguing with his brother over a LEGO set, and I was completely over it.
I realized then that the internet doesn’t need another 800-word essay disguised as a recipe. It needs a voice that cuts through the noise and says: "Here is the recipe, here is why this technique matters, and here is exactly how to feed a crowd without losing your mind."

Why Listen to Me?
Before I became the full-time "Command Center" for the Sullivan household in Los Angeles, I spent five years in corporate food supply chain procurement. I have an MBA from UCLA, and I’ve spent more time auditing organic certification labels than I care to admit. I know what "natural" doesn't mean on a glossy package, and I can spot food-industry marketing hype from the opposite end of the cereal aisle.
On this blog, you’re never going to get lecture-heavy wellness talk or guilt trips about dinner. Instead, here is what you will get:
American Comfort with a Chinese-American Lens: Hearty, dependable dishes that reflect my Shanghai roots and my California life—food tested on four kids with four very different opinions.
The Organic Audit: Real facts about grocery sourcing, labels, and local markets, decoded without the sanctimony or fear-mongering.
Real Portions: I cook for a household of six. If a recipe says it serves four, in our kitchen, that’s just a warmup snack.
I’m not here to change your life or turn your kitchen into a science project. I’m just here to help you get a solid, honest dinner on the table before the surf report comes in and everyone starts asking what's for dessert.

I’m Cathy. Let’s get cooking.
Kitchen Tip: If your organic greens look entirely too pristine, they probably aren't real. Real food has character. Also, keep your knives sharp—a dull blade is the only thing in a kitchen more dangerous than a hungry teenager.