
What changed, and what it changed for you
When this site began, it was a digital scrapbook of recipes I’d scribbled on napkins or saved from magazines. The photos were blurry, the measurements were guesses, and the instructions assumed you already knew what I did—like how much to preheat the oven or when to fold in the chocolate.
If a recipe failed, it was my fault for not writing it down properly.
Now, every recipe is tested at least three times. The photos are shot in the same light, the measurements are precise, and the steps are broken into small enough pieces that even a first-time baker can follow along. The difference isn’t just that the recipes work—it’s that they *teach*.
You can open any page and know exactly what to do, no guesswork needed.
| It used to be | Now it is |
|---|---|
| Recipes written in fragments, pulled from memory. | Every recipe is a complete guide—ingredients, steps, and troubleshooting. |
| Photos taken on a phone in whatever light was available. | Consistent lighting, clear close-ups, and styled shots that don’t distract from the food. |
| No structure—just whatever I felt like making that day. | Recipes organized by occasion, skill level, and dietary needs. |
| Assumed the reader knew basic techniques. | Explains everything, even the small things, like how to temper chocolate or fold egg whites. |
The one that took years

For the first five years, I refused to write down a recipe until I’d made it at least ten times. That meant waiting, second-guessing, and often scrapping entire experiments because they weren’t ‘good enough.’ The problem wasn’t the recipes—it was that I couldn’t decide what ‘good’ even meant.
Should it be nostalgic? Adventurous? Simple? I kept changing my mind, and the site stagnated.
The turning point came when I realized I was waiting for perfection instead of sharing what was *real*. One day, I tested a chocolate mousse that was rich but not overly sweet, creamy but not greasy—and it worked the first time. I published it anyway, flaws and all.
The feedback showed me that people didn’t want flawless; they wanted *honest*. That’s when I stopped over-editing and started focusing on recipes that told a story, whether it was a family heirloom or a happy accident.
Now, every recipe has a ‘why’ behind it: a memory, a technique I love, or a way to fix a common mistake. The trade-off? More work upfront—testing, rewriting, and sometimes throwing out entire drafts. But the payoff is that you can trust what you’re reading. And that’s worth the cost.
Meet the author

I grew up in a kitchen where recipes were never written down—just passed along in fragments, like ‘add a pinch of this, a splash of that.’ My mom would hum while she worked, and I’d stand on a stool, stirring batter that stuck to the sides of the bowl.
I learned early that cooking was about instinct, not rules. But that instinct led to more burned meringues than I’d like to admit—once, I set off the smoke alarm trying to caramelize sugar in a pan I’d forgotten was on the stove.
For years, I treated recipes like secrets: something to hoard until I was ready to share them ‘perfectly.’ That meant I never shared much at all.
The few things I did post were half-baked (literally and figuratively), and I spent more time stressing over whether a photo looked ‘Instagrammable’ than whether the recipe actually worked.
What changed was realizing that the best recipes aren’t about perfection—they’re about connection.
Now, I run *Love Chocolate Recipes* the way I wish I’d found it years ago: as a place where recipes are tested, trusted, and told with honesty.
Whether it’s Janelle Everson’s take on a childhood treat or a bold new experiment, every recipe here is meant to bring people together—one bite at a time.
What did not change
The core belief has always been the same: food should bring joy, not stress. That’s why this site will never include overly complicated techniques or ingredients you can’t find at a regular grocery store. And the love of chocolate? That’s non-negotiable.
If there’s a recipe here without chocolate, it’s either a joke or an emergency (like the ‘no-bake’ cookies that use cocoa powder instead of melted bars).
Another thing that hasn’t wavered is the focus on imperfection. The best meals are the ones that turn out better than expected—not because everything went right, but because you rolled with the mistakes. That’s the spirit behind every recipe here: a reminder that cooking is about adapting, not following rules.
What is still being fixed
Right now, the biggest project is making sure every recipe works for people with dietary restrictions—more gluten-free, dairy-free, and vegan options, tested just as thoroughly as the rest. It’s a slow process, but it’s worth it.
And if you have a request, a tip, or a recipe you’d love to see here, the contact page is the best place to share it.
The goal is simple: a site where no one feels left out.
Things that would help
- A recipe you’ve perfected (or want to see perfected) that’s missing here.
- A dietary need you’ve struggled to find recipes for—gluten-free, vegan, or otherwise.
- A technique you’ve mastered that others might find helpful (like tempering chocolate or making the perfect meringue).
The recipes are grouped by category: Appetizers, Beverages, Breakfast & Brunch, Desserts, Main Courses and Reviews.
