I stumbled on a YouTube video called “POV: 4 Hours of Top Chefs Working” and clicked in, none the wiser.
The video grabs you by the collar from the jump.
Shot POV-style from a GoPro strapped to a chef’s apron, it drops you straight into the kitchen — no cutaways, no voiceover, no ego. Just four hours of searing pans, synchronized plating, and the quiet poetry of professionals doing what they do best.
The technique. The tempo. The unspoken choreography of it all — mesmerizing.
Since then, I’ve been hooked. Watching Jack Croft and Will Murray’s YouTube channel religiously. Rewatching, pausing, rewinding. Trying (and mostly failing) to mimic their moves in my own kitchen.
It’s common knowledge that you can get a world-class education on YouTube — entire university lecture circuits, how-to guides for changing a tire, workout routines tucked between trailers, memes, and — yes — cat videos.
And when it comes to cooking, there’s no shortage of content.
All with merit. All with their niche.
Channels for beginner home cooks.
Channels for follow-along recipes.
Channels for recreating dishes from your favorite movie or TV show.
Channels dedicated to trying every fast food burger — and then making a better version at home.
But lately, I’ve been craving something else.
Not just recipes. Not just entertainment.
I want to see how real chefs cook.
Michelin-starred, award-winning, best-of-the-best chefs.
Don’t just give me a recipe — show me the process. The rhythm. The repetition. Force me to level up through technique and experimentation.
That’s where Fallow comes in.
It’s not just another cooking channel — it’s a masterclass disguised as casual content.
There’s one YouTube Short I keep coming back to. Thirty seconds. No narration. Just hands, heat, and precision.
I’ve probably watched it two dozen times.
It’s packed with blink-and-you’ll-miss-it gems — which vegetables to use, how to cut a cartouche (still working on it), how vinegar balances acidity, and when it’s safe to riff once the foundation’s set.
All that, in half a minute.
Part of what draws me to Jack and Will’s videos is their ability to nudge me just beyond my comfort zone.
That’s long been missing from most YouTube cooking channels — there’s rarely a middle ground.
I’m totally comfortable making a burger with special sauce.
And I’m totally over my skis trying to bake sourdough from scratch.
It’s somewhere in that chasm — between the quotidian and the unfamiliar — where I tend to lose confidence and reach for DoorDash.
But caramelizing mushrooms, adding stock, and blending it all into a silky purée? Sign me up.
It’s that gentle push — getting me comfortable with being uncomfortable — that builds real confidence. Especially when it’s paired with foundational technique.
Before I know it, I’m making Beef Wellington from scratch.
It’s a tried and true technique: teaching.
Audrey walked into the kitchen as I was supréming citrus for a salad and asked, “Where did you learn how to do that?”
“Supréme?” I replied, confused.
“What is supréme? Like the brand?” she asked.
We went back and forth for a bit — a 2025 remake of Abbott and Costello — before I finally explained the technique: carefully removing the peel, pith, and membranes to reveal perfectly juicy citrus segments.
And yes — I’d learned it from those two British dudes on YouTube.
She said she was impressed, grabbed a slice of membrane-less blood orange, and walked away.
I’ll admit: a lot of what Will and Jack have taught me is overkill.
Do I need to learn how to prepare multiple types of chicken stock? Probably not. Sameen Nosrat’s recipe still slaps (that’s “is amazing” for my older readers).
Is supréming a supreme flex? Yes. Yes it is.
But some things have been genuine game changers.
Puréeing vegetables (any vegetables).
Using acids as flavor composites.
Cooking perfect fish by feel.
Recreating a dish from taste memory alone.
Knowing when (and how) to reduce.
How to store things properly.
How to use your knives — and not hurt yourself.
Which pans to use, and when.
The list goes on. You get the gist.
Their channel is kind of like the modern-day Kitchen Nightmares: a real-life POV into the daily rhythm of a chef.
And the same way Nightmares taught us which days to avoid the fish special (i.e. you’ll never catch me at Captain Charlie’s on a Monday), while pulling no punches about what it meant to be a chef in New York in the early aughts — Will and Jack do something similar.
They teach us the little things that make us better cooks at home. And, more importantly, they remind us what it really takes to be great in a kitchen.
Is that awareness necessary when you’re pan-frying branzino? No.
But does it keep you humble before you post it on Instagram with the caption “restaurant quality”?
Hell yeah, it does.
I came across a Fallow video the other day on making gnocchi, where Will and Jack team up with Anthony Dispensa (formerly of Carbone in New York) to recreate one of his classics.
I rewatched it a few times before starting my grocery list — and then I realized something.
Puzzled, I clicked on another Fallow video.
Many of their videos did not have a formal recipe or ingredient list!
Don’t be alarmed.
They’ll tell you what’s in the dish, and they’ll give you weights (especially when precision matters).
But the rest? That’s on you.
I couldn’t believe it had taken me months — months — of watching to recognize this quirk.
They want you to deviate.
In one of their walkthroughs — a Spanish tortilla made at home — Will casually suggests: “You can also skip this step and just buy a bag of Torres crisps from the store, and let them hydrate in oil longer.”
It’s a choose-your-own-adventure style of cooking, and it opens the door to that hallowed “ingenuity principle” I’ve written about before.
It’s risky, sure. But it’s also in those unscripted moments — when you’re left to your own devices — that you start to stumble onto what works best for you.
After all, when you’re cooking “to taste,” the goal is to cook to your taste.
The Fallow style won’t be for everyone — especially if you prefer traditional recipes or rigid step-by-step guides.
But if you’re willing to push beyond your comfort zone?
Believe me: it’s worth it.
Post-script: A thank you.
To Will and Jack —
Your videos have taught me so much. But more than that, they’ve given me real confidence.
I’m better at sourcing ingredients and minimizing waste.
I’m better at moving through the kitchen with purpose.
And — I’d like to think — I’m better at cooking.
So, thank you.