Your ADHD and Food Questions, Answered: Why cooking feels so hard and what actually helps | Catherine Smart (chef, Milk Street alum, host of Not From Concentrate)
From an ADHD chef who also eats cereal for dinner
You saved fourteen recipes this week. You made a grocery list. You even went to the store. Now it’s Tuesday, the chicken’s been sitting in the fridge since Saturday, the basil is wilting, and you’re standing in front of the stove wondering why “just make dinner” feels like solving a Rubik’s cube blindfolded.
Catherine Smart is a chef, recipe developer, and food writer with a Master’s in Gastronomy from Boston University and nearly two decades in the food world. She spent four seasons as a cast member on the Emmy-winning PBS show Milk Street Television and has written for The Boston Globe, Saveur, and Serious Eats. She’s also ADHD-diagnosed, and now channels all of it into Not From Concentrate, her podcast and newsletter for “food lovers with busy brains.” Her first cookbook, Not From Concentrate: Wildly Delicious + Distraction-Proof Recipes for Busy Brains, comes out in early 2027.
Inside this guest post, Catherine answers your most-asked questions about ADHD and food: the appetite roller coaster, the veggie graveyard, the sugar spiral, and what her own gremlin-mode dinner looks like.
1. “Nothing sounds good”
Several readers asked about this one. Everything sounds blah. Nothing is appealing. By the time you eat, you feel sick. And the flip side: overeating when dopamine-seeking, then swinging back to no appetite at all.
Have you heard the jokes about avocados? Hard as a rock, ripe for an hour, and then turning brown. Sometimes that’s how our appetite feels with ADHD. Maybe the meds are dulling your appetite, or you’re locked in hyperfocus and refusing to stop long enough to feel the hunger cues. And then it’s handfuls of chocolate chips, or too much pizza, taken down too fast.
You are not alone! It’s my job to cook and eat well, and true story: today I was out interviewing someone for my newsletter, blew off lunch, and ended up eating a red velvet whoopie pie like a raccoon on the side of the road.
But we’re here for solutions, right? One of the best things you can do for yourself is set yourself up with a good breakfast. For me that looks like a 7-minute egg or fried egg, tucked into a pita. I top mine with pre-shredded carrots (which I always keep on hand because they help me add veg to almost anything), sliced cocktail tomatoes (I can eat a whole one with no waste), flaky Maldon salt, black pepper, and a spoonful of chili crisp.
And I don’t get to breakfast until I can calm down from the often overstimulating task of getting the kids ready for school and out the door.
It’s taken me a while to understand this is what works best for me, and it’s worth taking the time to figure out what works for you. Maybe it’s peanut butter on an English muffin before you do anything. Maybe it’s a Perfect Bar and a banana on your commute. Maybe it’s a smoothie that makes you feel smug because you can add a handful of spinach and a scoop of protein powder, and it will still taste like pineapple.
The point is that committing to balancing your blood sugar and getting some nutrition in before the day gets away from you can make all the difference. I find if I commit to taking care of myself first thing, before my brain can get in the way, it sets the tone for my whole day.
2. The cereal problem
“My brain craves sugar and carb dopamine hits and my body can’t handle too many steps. My go-to food is cereal. No matter how overwhelmed or shitty I feel, I can always make cold cereal.”
I once taught a class called No Cereal For Dinner (and wrote about it on Substack). But I want to start by saying: do not beat yourself up! Shame is no good here, and also, sometimes cereal is the perfect dinner. Especially if you chase it with some fresh fruit.
But I hear you on the sugar. I’m an absolute gollum about it. I chatted with a registered dietitian about this on my podcast, and she validated my theory: if I eat sugar first, I’ll crave it all day. (See Q1 re: breakfast.)
A lot of this is habit, and setting ourselves up to break those habits is a gift you give yourself. Next time you’re at the grocery store, set aside a little budget to splurge on something that looks delicious and easy to make.
Maybe it’s a few slices of prosciutto you could drape over fresh melon and mozzarella. Maybe it’s a ripe avocado you can smear on toast with olive oil and flaky salt. Maybe it’s a pre-made chicken salad from the prepared food section. Maybe the rotisserie chicken smells divine!
Now that you’ve invested in something that sounds tasty, commit to putting it on a plate, sitting at a table, and eating it. Take note of how much better you feel for eating a proper meal.
If you want a bowl of cereal for dessert, that’s fine! The point is that you commit to eating a real meal (however simple), you enjoy it, and take the win. Those positive experiences will stack up, and your meal-making muscles will get stronger. You wouldn’t run a marathon without running a mile first, so start with one or two real meals a week and see where the consistency takes you.
A few resources I’ve paid for and found worthwhile (no affiliate links):
You Gotta Eat by Margaret Eby: Simple meal ideas and motivation to feed yourself when it’s all too much.
The Eat Goood Newsletter by Jenn Lueke: Also has a cookbook. If you need structure and suffer from decision fatigue, Jenn is the GOAT.
What to Cook When You Don’t Feel Like Cooking by Caroline Chambers: Delicious, doable, adaptable recipes. A new complete meal every week.
3. The veggie graveyard
“I want to eat more veggies but everything rots in my fridge veggie bin. And I really only like potatoes, carrots, and corn.”
Veggie graveyard, aka Sludge of Shame, is something I write about a lot.
Let’s start with what you love, build confidence, and go from there.
Set your oven to 400 degrees and pull out a baking sheet. Type “carrots” into the search bar of Substack, Insta, TikTok, or your scroll-hole of choice. Set a timer for 5 minutes and soak up some inspo.
