Recipes
In Person of Interest we talk to the people catching our eye right now about their projects past and present. Next up, we chat with Zoe Zannos, a culinary brand designer and content creator, best known for eating their way through Europe via Hinge.
Zoe Zannos was in their final year of school for graphic design and already burned out. It was 2024 and they yearned for a project that wasn’t related to university.
They loved food and connecting with people, and they happened to be active on dating apps. One day it hit them: a zine based on cultural recipes they cook alongside their dates.
Since that initial light bulb moment, Zannos has run with the idea, bringing their followers across Europe through their social media series, Cook Me Something Nice. Cooking alongside Hinge dates in their own kitchens, Zannos has cooked and enjoyed goulash in Budapest, potato dumplings in Prague, and mezze in Istanbul. Next up: Athens and the Cyclades for the next few months.
The project quickly gained traction—21,000 Instagram followers have joined their journey, and potential cooking partners flood Zannos’ DMs, email, and social media comments, inviting them to over for a meal.
We spoke to Zannos about the evolution of Cook Me Something Nice—the ideas behind the project, how they vet their dates, and what they’ve learned about the experience.
Tell me a little about yourself and about where your love for food started.
I grew up in the southern suburbs of Cape Town, South Africa, between the mountains and the sea. My grandfather came from Santorini and chose to build our house there because it reminded him of life on the island.
There’s a South Africanism for the person who eats too much: “Gimba.” I never beat the accusations in primary school, and I proudly wore the title. For as long as I can remember, my entire life has been centered around the act of eating and the pleasure of tasting something good.
Was there a specific moment that first drew you into dinner rituals?
In sixth grade I was good friends with a boy named Jean. A playdate at his house was always thrilling—he was just as into food as I was, and we would cook and bake together. His family had French roots and were deeply appreciative of good food and the ritual of eating. When I’d stay for dinner, the atmosphere of the house would shift: the warm lamp was switched on, the table was set, and if it wasn’t smooth jazz playing over the CD player, it was his mother on the piano. We were allowed a small cup of wine with the adults, and there was always dessert. It was the first time I had witnessed dinner being treated as this special ritual, something done with intention and care.
And you and Jean would cook and bake as tweens?
Jean and I split the cost of a cookbook at the school book fair and decided to host our own three-course dinner party for our parents. His mom so graciously gave us—two wide-eyed 11-year-olds—the reins to plan and curate our own menu. She also went out of her way to purchase the ingredients. Mussels were included—it was not a humble setlist.
I still have the physical menu I designed on Microsoft Word. We dressed up, and Jean played the piano before we ate. We were so excited that we rushed through each course, but the flow of the night was left entirely in our hands. It never clicked until later but this evening was a pivotal moment for me. I think often of Jean and his mom, Hanlie, who gave us the space and means to explore our passions as young children and trusted us like adults in the process. I don’t think I would have been the same person without all those days spent in their family kitchen, being met with praise, reassurance, and encouragement for whatever we insisted on whipping up together.
So you went from making menus on Word to zines in college, including the early versions of what would become Cook Me Something Nice. Was the plan always leveraging dating apps to find cooking candidates?
Back when I started, I was going on real dates with people I cooked with. I very quickly realized that the recipe is the least interesting thing to come from cooking with someone you fancy.
As much as I approached each interaction as a date, I also began to realize that this is a very interesting case study on people. How do nerves appear in the kitchen? What do you learn about someone while cooking? What’s it like meeting someone new, and then having to be a team for the first time? It’s quite the opposite of small talk over a drink.
So I dropped the mandatory ‘checkbox’ that every cooking date needed to have a romantic context.
I specify in my Hinge profile that this is a project I’m doing, and that it’s the main reason I’m on here. Not because I’m not open to dates, I totally am — but I tell them it’s a project I’m undertaking rather than a romantic endeavor from the get-go.
Do you still use Hinge for dates?
I do, but I focus on that separately from the cooking. I keep an open mind throughout both processes. Who’s to say I don’t hit it off with someone I cook with? I’m not opposed to something developing further at all. That’s the beauty of conducting this with zero expectations.
You’re a single person meeting a bunch of strangers on the internet and going into their homes! How do you choose and vet your cooking dates?
My driving factor is sheer curiosity about what I can learn about someone who might look like they have nothing in common with me. This is a social project, an ode to how food is the most powerful connector and medium of storytelling, and a reminder to people that connection doesn’t have to be complicated.
Generally, I have a great read on people and am very good at vetting the online requests I receive. Since the interaction takes place over text, going off of vibes is kind of the only basis I have. I take a look at profiles and the tones of messages, and am very good at picking up when someone is proposing to host me because they’re trying to flirt.
The vast majority of messages I get are absolutely lovely. I’m never stressed when preparing to meet someone. My only rule of thumb for my own safety is that I’ll never head straight to a man’s house to cook, and will always meet him beforehand for a coffee or something to assess in person if I feel 100% good proceeding.
What advice do you have for people watching your series who are inspired to put themselves out there more—with strangers, dating, cooking, hobbies, etc.?
Do it as often as you can, in as many ways as you can. Identify what subtle restraints and biases you’ve woven into your life and challenge them one by one. Digital media has influenced what ‘putting yourself out there’ means. We are so heavily behind screens that we allow ourselves the gamble of real ‘risk’ less and less. Allow your heart to pound in your throat and revel in the feeling of your palms sweating when you leap toward something new.
You will be so beautifully, consistently, pleasantly surprised by the kinds of experience you can have and new depths to yourself you can unlock when you take a step outside of your normal — even when you do it scared.