hurdling with cat sarsfield: writer, brand strategist and + author of since no one asked
on the benefits of being a yes person, the importance of community and why it’s better to be in search of something that will enrich your life, not take it over.
Hiya everyone. Well, well, well if it isn’t the first Hurdling guest of 2025 landing in… (checks notes) May. Maybe I’m just not a woman who can be governed by the traditional yearly calendar? Maybe my new year emerges with the better weather? Or maybe the start of this year has been too intense and I’ve only just been able to reclaim my time, energy and space again.
But enough about me! Today’s interview is with everyone’s favourite food writer (who is responsible for a significant number of my hunger pangs), Cat Sarsfield. If you don’t already know her, Cat is a writer, a brand strategist and the author of Since No One Asked – the newsletter that figures out life through food. I’ve followed her writing for years, and have been lucky enough to cross paths with her a few times in our worlds of work, too.
Cat is the very embodiment of the phrase, ‘not all those who wander are lost’. She’s spent her career making decisions and taking chances that just feel right to where she is at any given moment, and as such has led a worldly life with truly unique experiences that have shaped who she is today.
In this gorgeous, honest and generous interview, Cat tells me about the benefits of being a yes person, the importance of community and why it’s better to be in search of something that will enrich your life, not take it over.
Enjoy!
Please tell us a little bit about yourself, and share a snapshot of your life right now:
Hello! I’m Cat, the most Taurus-like Taurus you’ve ever met. I am all about romanticising all the small, tiny moments that make up a life, from the soft curl of butter on a baguette to the sound of Kelly Clarkson rushing through your brain at the end of a ‘run’.
I’ve been referred to as ‘sauce lady’ thanks to my obsession with making sauces for everything. Evidently I hate a dry meal. I am passionate about salad dressings and crispy rice. Roasting a chicken is my entire personality.
I write words for other people and myself (catch me on Substack at Since No One Asked), and currently find myself doing the delightful job as Head of Brand at Mother Root, who make bold and delicious feel-good non-alcoholic aperitifs. Ironically, my favourite way to spend an evening is by drinking three vodka martinis and dunking fries into mayonnaise.
If you’re looking for me, I’m probably lying down in the last sliver of sunlight.
Can you give us an overview of your CV?
It’s a long list, please don’t think I’m non-committal. I’m a generalist and have loved doing lots of different jobs, which I used to think was indecisive but have recently decided to re-brand it as worldly.
I started my career in journalism: a brief stint at The Green Soccer Journal (yes, it’s a football magazine; no, I don’t know that much about football), before I cut my teeth on the digital desk at Harper’s Bazaar where I found a niche and passion for music writing. I freelanced at Cosmopolitan and Esquire for a while (less music, more musicians) before joining a band. I played cello and sang for a brilliant musician called Nathan Ball, worked part time at a music PR agency called Inside/Out and spent a lot of time backstage at festivals!
I then pivoted to the surf industry (no, really), working for Finisterre in comms in their St Agnes cliffside offices. A wood-fired chef next door tasted a houmous I made and told me to come work for him, so I did and spent a summer chopping and hosting in Cornwall. I decided I needed to leave and grow a little, so I landed a volunteer job at Soul & Surf, a brilliant surf and yoga retreat where I flitted between India and Sri Lanka for a few years.
I then worked in marketing for a family-run winery in Northern California, did my yoga teacher training in Panama then returned to London.
Over the last few years here in the city, I’ve headed up community for a sexual wellness app; was the first hire at brand strategy agency Sonder & Tell – where I realised I had a passion for writing newsletters! I went freelance and have worked in strategy, copywriting and community for brands like IKEA, H&M and Bumble. Mother Root started as a client last year where I shepherded their rebrand and they took me on as a fractional Head of Brand in December.
Q: When you were younger, what did you want to be when you ‘grew up’?
A lawyer for the UN because my cousin was one (she’s now a badass international diplomat). Then a poet because I won a prize that Andrew Motion judged. Then a playwright because the Royal Court let me in their programme.
Q: Tell us about your first job. Where did you work, how did you get that job and what did you learn?
My first job was at Jack Wills in Bicester Village. I was 16 and intoxicated by big schweffy hair and the promise of meeting boys. I worked in retail all through school and university and I think that first experience taught me how to tell a story about a brand. It also genuinely gave me a lot of confidence because you’re constantly put in a position where you have to talk to people.
Q: Tell us about your worst ever job. Why did you hate it? What made it so bad?
I honestly wouldn’t describe any job I’ve had as really bad, but I was quite unhappy working in the health-tech space. I’ve just become really jaded about brands that grow out of accelerator programmes because often they emerge from founders who simply want to found something, anything. I’ve worked for many start ups, but there’s something about health-tech that feels like it’s virtue signalling trying to help people. That’s a gross generalisation of course. This was also in the era of Theranos so it’s easy for my assessment of my experience to be clouded.
Q: Tell us about how you got to where you are today? For example, what did it take? What decisions did you make? What was the path like? What hurdles stood in your way? Was it extremely difficult? What did you say yes to? What did you say no to?
In my career, I have always been a yes person. The reason I’ve had so many different work experiences is because I’ve always been in search of something that will enrich my life (not take it over), and in my twenties I was really lucky that a lot of opportunities came my way. I’m not saying it’s come easily or that I haven’t worked hard, but I really was in a space of receiving as opposed to chasing (too bad I can’t translate this into my love life).
I think now the main hurdles are things like more responsibility and the constant tension between feeling like you have a purpose versus allowing your purpose to be owned by a company.
I’ve said no to things like continued contracts - for example when I was working on an emerging designer programme funded by IKEA and H&M, I had the opportunity to do the same role for a second year – it would have given me serious financial stability for a year and I just didn’t want to do it. I felt like I had achieved everything I wanted to in that first year, and I paved the way for someone else to take that mantle and do something new.
Now when I’m thinking about work, I think about how I can genuinely balance doing it with all the things that make me happy. I enjoy work but it really is NOT everything to me – I believe life is about being as happy as you possibly can, and I don’t think I could personally do that if work was my life.
Q: Is the reality of where you are today different to how you imagined it would be? If so, how? What are the biggest differences?
I guess if I’m being honest, I thought by the time I was 34 years old I’d be either married or have a kid and a flat in London with a partner. Instead I’m very single, have just bought a house (with help from my parents – I think it is SO IMPORTANT to be real and transparent about how you manage to do things like get on a property ladder; I would not have been able to do this without my parents gifting me money for a deposit), and am moving back down to Cornwall after six years in the city. In terms of happiness though, I think I’m about where I thought I’d be – I have a pretty great life. (A dog would make it better).
Q: What’s the biggest mistake you’ve ever made? What happened? What did you do? And what did you learn from it?
I really don’t believe in regrets, so this isn’t a singular mistake, but something I’m constantly having to confront is my inability to separate my emotions from a work environment. I can be quite sensitive (and stubborn; there’s that Taurus energy) and I’ve definitely found myself in situations where I’ve erupted in professional settings. I don’t believe in censoring yourself or making yourself smaller just because you’re at work, BUT I think what this has taught me is that work is not worth crying over, especially when you work in marketing.
Q: You’re the author of Since No One Asked, a gorgeous newsletter which figures life out through food. What made you start this newsletter? What was the itch you had to scratch, and where do you think it came from?
I started a newsletter like almost every other millennial in 2020. I had always loved sharing stories about food and hosting friends, so when the world shut down I decided to bring this into the digital realm. It felt natural because I had been starting newsletters for lots of brands and previously had been pretty comfortable sharing fairly vulnerable stories in my Instagram captions.
I actually can’t remember ever not writing about how food and memory intersect, which I think is proof how much I needed to do it. It was a real outpouring on a weekly basis, where I could figure out my life through food in the way that Didion says she writes to understand what she’s thinking. I started it for me but the cherry on top is that people felt like they could connect to it. I’m always in awe that anyone reads it.
Q: You once wrote a beautiful essay titled, ‘Broken Hearts, Broken Appetites’. In it, you write, ‘Food can only give you comfort if you allow yourself to be comforted.’ As someone who when depressed, heartbroken or not feeling myself, looks for the bland and runs away from flavour, I related to this piece so much. Can you tell us a little bit about the origin of this story?
Oh god I so remember writing this piece because I was deep in the throes of my first real, searing heartbreak. I had escaped to Vancouver to spend a month with my best friend and allowed myself some space to simply feel every emotion rather than write about them. It was a simultaneously terrible and incredible time. I cried on random street corners everyday. I stopped caring about food. I was living in someone else’s space, and the thought of occupying another’s kitchen felt so exhausting to me. I tried to roast a chicken for my best friend’s husband’s birthday and it just felt so wrong, like I wasn’t in my own body - as if I was just performing the ritual and watching it from above. So disconnected. I associate food with joy but I also had a serious eating disorder when I was in my early 20s, so I also associate it with control and fear. It was really disarming not feeling fussed about food. I hated it. It reminded me of losing my taste buds when I had COVID.
Q: Alongside your newsletter, you’re a freelance writer and strategist for brands like Finisterre, Ferly, Mitre & Mondays, The Modern House, Desmond & Dempsey, Monoware and Bloody Good Period – to name just a few! In a previous life, you were a journalist (Harper’s Bazaar, Cosmopolitan, Esquire), a music PR (Inside/Out) and a project manager (Sonder & Tell). You’ve even modelled for Paynter Jacket, too. Given that you have already, at 34, lived so many work lives and done so many different things, how do you feel this has shaped you as a person who works – and as a person who lives? Do you think, as they say, that variety is the spice of life?
100%. I would get so bored if I only did one thing, or only worked for one brand. For me, all of those experiences have enabled me to be part of a really full and rich community. Every experience I’ve had has led to the next. I remember feeling so grateful I had to learn how to be a project manager (alongside doing strategy and copywriting) at Sonder & Tell because I think it’s a skill that enables me to be a really successful freelancer. I know how to scope and budget; I’m really good at communicating with clients; I am extra organised. Similarly playing in Nathan’s band led me to Finisterre, which led me to Cornwall. Without that one experience, I would not have such a strong connection to the coast.
Q: Recently, you stepped back in-house at Mother Root Drinks as Head of Brand & Content. What pulled you away from freelancing and back in-house? How has your approach to work changed with this move? Does it have more or less structure? Do you feel like you have more or less impact? Does it feel right for you at this stage of your life? If so, why?
It’s funny because I’m still technically a freelancer! I work at Mother Root a few days a week and take on smaller freelance jobs in my spare time – recently with the British Council for Venice Biennale; and Savo, a Swedish furniture brand for Copenhagen Design Week. Having said that, it definitely is far more akin to a full-time role in the sense that my weeks are more structured. I work Mon-Wed and am in the office every Monday and Tuesday. I’ve had to get used to commuting (thank god for Lime bikes) and having to work with other people in the room (wtf?!).
But I don’t think being a freelancer in this role makes me any less invested in the company though – I really love the work we do, and we’re in this exciting time where we’re able to take big swings with brand. I’m really lucky that Bethan and Alice (Mother Root’s founder and COO) have a lot of trust in me to co-steer the direction of the brand at a really pivotal time.
It definitely feels right for me at this time in my life – I’ve gained so much knowledge across community building, strategy and comms over the past decade, it feels really good to have a role and title that genuinely reflects that. The hard thing about being a freelancer is that you don’t usually get those markers of progression. I don’t want to be all in my ego but there is something really great about being given responsibility and autonomy for a brand that isn’t your own.
Q: Throughout your career, in all your roles and brands, you’ve had a keen focus on community. Why is community so important from a brand POV? And why do you think community is so important from a personal POV?
I hate to be a cliché but if you don’t have a community you don’t have a brand. Your brand has to be for someone, always. It’s impossible to separate the two. But the important thing to remember is that you can’t choose who your customer is. You can guide things by showing who you are, but ultimately you have to listen to your customer and meet them where they’re at. It’s a constant push and pull, which is why talking to your community on a regular basis is really important. It’s the only way to do something authentic. At Mother Root, Bethan didn’t start out thinking she’d be the champion of old souls and independent spirits, but the majority of our customers are 40-70 year old women. So my job is to talk to them, find out what they need, and then show that those needs are being represented.
Q: You and I both share a great, unwavering love for the sea and all that it gives you. Clarity. Perspective. Humility. Endorphins. As someone who lives and works in London, how do you manage to balance the thriving hustle of the city with seeking out the slower pace of the coast? Do you think both are necessary to have access to? If so, why?
Well, as someone who is about to move back to Cornwall in less than a month, the obvious answer would be: I need to be by the sea. I’m not sure it’s as simple as that, but that proximity to the rawness of nature is really important to me. I love London. I love a wine bar. I love Lime bikes. I love going out to dinner. I love the Hampstead Heath Ladies Pond. But there’s nothing that compares to diving into the silky Helford river, or watching the Atlantic rollers tremble during a winter storm. I don’t know if I can say for sure whether I am more myself in one place or the other; but for where I’m at in my life, I need the coast more than I need the city.
I think you just have to take each environment for what it is, and not try to project one onto the other.
Q: What’s the biggest hurdle you’ve ever had to get over? This can be in life, love, work, or any other corner of your world.
I recently closed the book on a ten year situationship. I spent a decade being obsessed with someone who has never had the capacity to care for me in the way I deserved, and it took that long for me to truly feel it. I realised it years ago; but to move on, I had to feel it in my body. I recently saw him, sat on a bench next to a beach I used to love. We talked and it was sad because I honestly felt nothing between us. The illusion had disappeared. The fantasy was unwritten. I burst into tears as soon as I walked away, felt pathetic for a few hours, and then the next morning I thought: wow, what a relief. A week later on my birthday I drew two cards from an animal spirit deck. One was about death. The other was about rebirth. I took it as a sign.
Q: What’s a recent hurdle (big or small!) you’ve had to get over?
Running! I’m trying to move my body more (I’m such a pilates princess), and recently started ‘running’. I’m putting it in quotes because if you see me ‘running’ you’ll think to yourself ‘she’s walking’, which I do about half the time. But honestly I was just coming through Shoreditch Park for that last little stretch and Since U Been Gone was BLASTING through my ears and I was mouthing the words and I couldn’t help but smile and realised it’s true what they’ve said all along: endorphins make you happy!
Q: Anything to get off your chest?
I might have a crush on my friend of 20 years, but I can’t tell if it’s the loneliness talking.
QUICKFIRE
Q: One kitchen object you can’t live without?
A microplane. I honestly take one whenever I’m in a new kitchen.
Q: Best advice you’ve ever been given?
My mum told me to always give your partner space; not to try and be in their pocket all the time.
Q: Worst advice you’ve ever been given?
Not advice but the other day my mum looked at me longingly and simply said: “Have a baby. Have any baby.” WTF am I supposed to do with that?!
Q: If you could whip up comfort food for anyone from history (dead or alive, real or fictional) to help them through a big life experience (eg. Jo March in the midst of her ‘women–’ speech when she tells her mother how lonely she is, or ) who would it be for and what would you make them?
Probably should stop talking about my mum but it would be for my mum at 7 years old, when she lost her own mother and had to grow up too quickly. I’d make nurungji chicken – where I roast a soy-brined bird over buttery rice and it crisps up at the bottom of the pan like the remnants of rice in a firelit cauldron from yesteryear.
Q: The person you admire the most?
My dad. He’s the kindest person in the world and I don’t think a better human exists, which has really fucked me over when it comes to relationships because WHO CAN COMPARE TO PERFECTION!?
Q: Ever faked being sick to get off work?
No but tbh I have spent a lot of time watching Netflix or going out for lunch when I should be working.
Q: Any last words?
I think I’ve given you too many words, sorry about that.
You can follow Cat on Instagram here, and scroll through more of her food creations and snapshots of her life. Do not do so when hungry. You have been warned.
I...think Cat's my new hero?
Wow, what an incredible interview. I didn’t know of Cat I’m glad I do now 💚