Hook 🎣
first sentence catches the reader’s eye in an instant.
Problem
Story
Message
Hook: "Life is like a chef's kitchen, filled with random ingredients. Some start with caviar; others with stale bread. But the true magic? It’s all in how you cook it."
Culinary Class Woes
Yes, I've caught the “Culinary Class Wars” bug, and it’s made me think about things in a new light.
Where you start in life is a roll of the dice—economic status, upbringing, early influences, education. Those are your ingredients. Some start with caviar and foie gras: born into wealth, access to mentors, loving family, all the opportunities. Others get less ideal ingredients: leftover rice, bruised tomatoes, expired spices. They’ve faced trauma, loss, limited resources. But here’s the thing—both can cook up magic.
Judge a chef by their skills, not just their dish. Don’t just look at someone’s end result. Look at how far they’ve come, what they’ve done with the ingredients they were given.
Those who started with truffles and caviar - they barely need to do anything to end up with a good dish. But even the finest truffles can be burnt and messed up. They could put their good ingredients to waste.
On the flipside, someone with basic supermarket ingredients, with enough training and skill, could turn those into something magical. Fine dining level cooking. Think of Napoli Matfia’s chestnut tiramisu. Wow, just wow. Or the Self-made chef, or my favourite, the Comic Book Chef. My god, those guys are so inspiring!! And its inspiring precisely because you know that they started at a disadvantage. They didn't have the luxury of training at 2 star Michellin restaurants, nor the mentorship of star chefs. Some of them had to start from the bottom - washing dishes, mopping floors, and work the hard way up to get to where they are.
Judge someone for the journey they have taken. Not their end destination.
Some people say it doesn't matter where you came from. All that matters is where you end up. I disagree. It does matter where you came from. Remember it, look back on it, but do not let it define you. Do your best with what you have. Make that Michellin star dish, with your imperfect ingredients.
Forget your perfect offering. There’s a crack in everything. That's how the light comes in.
Acceptance is key. You need to make peace with your past, in order to move forward into the future.
Life is but what you make of it.
Ingredients, then Ingenius.
In life, the real magic is turning what you have into something inspiring. You may not have started with caviar, but you can still aim for a Michelin-starred dish—made in your flavours, your style.
Games = Food
I've been thinking about the business of creating games. Unlike the flashy Silicon Valley tech startups that are all the buzz now, and unlike the high-paying industries of finance, law, tech, medicine:
How do I justify my existence? How do I stay motivated? How do I approach my work as though it were a calling?
When people say they want to be an entrepreneur, the first thing you ask them is: Do you have product market fit?
Does this solve a real human problem? Cater to their needs?
While I understand this concept, I've always found it weird when applying it to my line of work. Who needs games? What problem am I solving?
The only path I see to answering the question is: people play games to escape. Their lifes suck, and games are a new world for them to not suck in. Or at least, to suck without real stakes. To distract them.
But man, doesn't that sound depressing?
Can you imagine going to work and telling yourself that you are building a distraction? A fake world where people can succeed in, but none of it is real?
And then I thought about chefs. From Singaporean hawkers specializing in their one dish, to restaurant chains like McDonalds and Din Tai Fung, to Michellin star restaurants with fine dining precision and months-long waiting lists.
What problem do they solve? What need do they cater to?
Hunger? LOL
Maybe you think that McDonalds caters to hunger, but even still, you don't choose McDonalds just because you feel hungry. You go because you know that you can get a decent meal, in good time, at a fair price. The taste is standardized so well, across stores, across countries, that some might even call it a miracle. magic. The magic of the system.
You go to these places for the experience. The taste, the sights, the service. The magic.
Great food is art. It is precision, recipes, perfected over countless iterations. It is the skill of the chef, embodied in the unique style of their dishes. It is meant to be admired, appreciated, treated with reverence. It is worth waiting in line for, sometimes for months. It is worth travelling out of your way for.
Great games are also art. Rolling dice, flipping cards, moving tokens on the board. These are all ingredients. What makes a game great comes down to the skill of the game designer. How well do they cook each ingredient? How do they choose which ingredients to combine together? How do they sequence them, how much of each to add? Do you juliene the peppers, or dice them? Do you baste the steak, or put it in the oven? It’s all raw material, but the art comes in how you put it together, how you blend flavors—strategies, themes, mechanics—to give a player a unique experience.
Just like chefs don’t only cater to hunger, great games aren’t just about passing time. They’re about crafting moments that linger, stories that resonate, and a sense of joy in the shared experience. The work of game design feels much like the work of a chef. It’s not about flashy tech or lucrative industries. It’s about creating something people connect with.
Be A Chef
Game designers are chefs in their own right. We pick ingredients—dice, cards, tokens, boards—and figure out how to blend them into something new. The best of the best, like Reiner Knizia or Stefan Feld, continue pushing boundaries, creating new flavors that challenge, excite, and bring people together.
So, if life has given you leftover rice, don’t despair. Accept it. See what you can make. Be a chef—be resourceful, be creative. And whatever your art—food, games, anything you love—treat each creation as an opportunity to serve something truly meaningful.
When I create a game, it’s not to solve some urgent world problem. No one needs games like they need water or food. But games, like a great dish, offer an experience. People might play to escape, to bond, or simply to enjoy. Games, like food, are art: rolling dice, flipping cards, moving tokens.
20 Oct 2024
Be a Chef We are Chefs
Yes, I have also caught the Culinary Class Wars bug.
In life, where you start from is random. Economic status, upbringing, early authority figures, education, etc.
Those are the ingredients with which you cook with.
Life is but what you make of it.
Some people start with the best ingredients: caviar, abalone, shark's fin. Born into wealth, comfortable life, all the doors opened to them, the chance to travel overseas, good mentors, a loving family, wholesome stuff, good mental resilience, good academic performance, street smart, etc. These are the caviars, abalones, foie gras, of Life.
Others start with less than ideal ingredients. Leftover rice, rotten tomatoes, ugly fruits, reduced to clear. Early childhood traumas, tragedies in the family, abuse, no access to opportunities, etc.
But even with sub-par ingredients, you could whip up amazing dishes. leftover rice makes fried rice, etc.
Judge someone by their skill as a chef. Not by their dish. Don't judge someone by their dish. Judge them for how far they have come. For what they have been able to cook up with their starting ingredients.
Those who started with abalone and caviar - they barely need to do anything to end up with a good dish. But even still, they could mess it up, overcook the stuff, and put their good ingredients to waste.
On the flipside, someone with basic supermarket ingredients, with enough training and skill, could turn those into something magical. Fine dining level cooking.
Think of the self-made chef in Culinary Class Wars, or even, my favourite, the Comic Boook Chef. My god, those guys are so inspiring!! And its inspiring precisely because you know that they started at a disadvantage. They didn't have the luxury of training at 2 star Michellin restaurants, nor the mentorship of star chefs. Some of them had to start from the bottom - washing dishes, mopping floors, and work the hard way up to get to where they are.
Judge someone for the journey they have taken. Not their end destination.
Life is but what you make of it.
Some people say it doesn't matter where you came from. All that matters is where you end up. I disagree. It does matter where you came from. Remember it, look back on it, but do not let it define you. Do your best with what you have. Make that Michellin star dish, with your imperfect ingredients.
Acceptance is key. You need to make peace with your past, in order to move forward into the future.
Ingredients, then ingenius.
Forget your perfect offering. Your cracks. That's where the light comes in.
Why Games? Why Board Games?
I've been thinking about the business of creating games. Unlike the flashy Silicon Valley tech startups that are all the buzz now, and unlike the high-paying industries of finance, law, tech, medicine.
How do I justify my existence? How do I stay motivated? How do I approach my work as though it were a calling?
When people say they want to be an entrepreneur, the first thing you ask them to do is a Business Model Canvas.
Do you have product market fit? Does this solve a real human problem? Cater to their needs?
While I understand this concept, I've always found it weird when applying it to my line of work. Who needs games? What problem am I solving?
The only path I see to answering the question is: people play games to escape. Their lifes suck, and games are a new world for them to not suck in. Or at least, to suck without real stakes. To distract them.
But man, doesn't that sound depressing?
Can you imagine going to work and telling yourself that you are building a distraction? A fake world where people can succeed in, but none of it is real?
And then I thought about chefs. From Singaporean hawkers specializing in their one dish, to restaurant chains like McDonalds and Din Tai Fung, to Michellin star restaurants with fine dining precision and months-long waiting lists.
What problem do they solve? What need do they cater to? Hunger? LOL
Maybe McDonalds caters to hunger, but even still, you don't choose McDonalds just because you feel hungry. You go because you know that you can get a decent meal, in good time, at a fair price. The taste is standardized so well, across stores, across countries, that some might even call it a miracle. magic. The magic of the system.
You go to these places for the experience. The taste, the sights, the service. The magic.
Great food is art. It is precision, recipes, perfected over countless iterations. It is the skill of the chef, embodied in the unique style of their dishes. It is meant to be admired, appreciated, treated with reverence. It is worth waiting in line for, sometimes for months. It is worth travelling out of your way for.
Great games are also art. Rolling dice, flipping cards, moving tokens on the board. These are all ingredients. What makes a game great comes down to the skill of the game designer. How well do they cook each ingredient? How do they choose which ingredients to combine together? How do they sequence them, how much of each to add? Do you juliene the peppers, or dice them? Do you baste the steak, or put it in the oven? Each ingredient has an infinite number of ways they can be treated, just as each game mechanic.
If I am bored, I could play something quick and simple, tried and tested, like Uno or Dai Di, or chess.
But if I am looking for a magical experience, I would pay extra, or spend more time, for a game that is truly great. Ra, Rats to Riches?
All games can be improved. Just as how every dish can be improved. Of course, there comes a time where a dish has come pretty damn close to perfection already, and you are probably better off creating a new dish.
And so, I see myself as a chef. There are plenty of great chefs out there. Reiner Knitzia, Stefan Feld, etc. Just when you think you've seen everything about a game mechanic, everything there canbe done with dice or cards or tiles, one of these guys comes along and pushes the boundaries yet again. They create human experiences that are novel, that challenge you, bring people together. A new taste. A new flavour profile in the emotional cocktail that we call games.
Themes are ingredients, too! Figurines, manufacturing, packaging, these too? maybe not cos we'd lose focus on the main blog topic.