Back before selfies and endless photos of every meal hit social media, I was shooting food on film. While I don’t have a ton of experience photographing food before the digital age, I found it surprisingly easy to work with—certainly easier than a dog or a small child. Unlike landscapes, where timing is everything, food stays put. No wind knocking over the perfect shot, no sudden movement to ruin the frame, and most importantly, no race against fleeting light.

Landscape photography is what started my career, all the way back in London when I was 10. That was where I first learned about golden light—that perfect window just after sunrise and before sunset when everything glows with a richness that can’t be faked. It was a lesson in patience. You had to wait for the right time of day, and then you only had a few precious minutes to get the shot before the light faded or changed. Every frame counted.

With food photography, the rules were different. The light was controlled. There was no need to chase the sun, no rush against time. The setup could be adjusted, refined, and perfected. If something wasn’t quite right, it could be fixed. In that sense, it felt less like capturing a fleeting moment and more like crafting an image from scratch.

Still, at the core of both landscapes and food photography is the same principle—understanding light. Whether it’s waiting for golden hour to hit a city skyline just right or positioning a soft light to make a dish look its most appetizing, the key is knowing how to shape and use it. Photography has always been about more than just pointing and shooting—it’s about seeing, anticipating, and making every shot count.