Amber Rose lives and breathes seasonal, ancestral eating, the kind of food philosophy that starts in the soil and ends in a slow, nourishing meal. We sat down with her to talk garden-grown childhoods, cooking with the seasons, and why traditional fats like Beef Tallow are making a well-deserved comeback.
Amber, can you share how your philosophy around ancestral and seasonal food developed?
I grew up with a mother who gardened organically and regeneratively, saved heritage seeds, and cooked from the land all year round, so nourishment was never separate from seasonality or soil.
What early experiences shaped your relationship with nourishing, traditional cooking?
My earliest memories are of gathering food straight from the garden and learning that flavour, nutrition, and culture are all born from the earth. Those experiences shaped everything I do.
What does ‘well-nourished living’ mean to you in a modern world full of convenience foods?
For me, well-nourished living means choosing real food that supports energy, clarity, and resilience - food that asks you to slow down enough to care. I keep things super simple: whole ingredients, seasonal rhythms, and daily rituals that reconnect me to the body instead of rushing past it.
How do you balance ancestral food wisdom with today’s lifestyle demands?
Most of my meals centre around a good quality protein, fresh and cooked seasonal vegetables and fruits, and ferments. You can’t really go wrong with good seasonal produce. During the weeks when I’m juggling parenting, work, and my own needs, simple is king. When things are manageable, they’re sustainable - and that’s when you can find the joy in the daily rituals of cooking. Keep it simple is my top tip. Food is medicine; it anchors our health, our family rhythms, and the moments we share.
How do you think about seasonality in your cooking? Do you have any practices or rituals to align meals with nature's cycles and seasons?
Seasonality is the compass I cook by. I let the seasons, the garden, the weather, and the wild places around me tell me what to eat. My ritual is simply paying attention, tasting what’s abundant, cooking with what’s at its peak, and letting each season shape the way I nourish myself and my family. In the colder months I gravitate toward warming, grounding foods. In summer I crave hydrating fruits, crunchy salads, and mineral-rich greens. Seasonal food tastes better, is more nutritious, and is often more affordable in its peak window.
Beef tallow is a highly ancestral fat, do you think tallow is worth bringing back into modern kitchens?
Traditional fats like tallow offer stability, nourishment, and depth of flavour - they’ve anchored human diets for millennia. Seed oils, on the other hand, are ultra-processed industrial products that our biology doesn’t recognise in the same way and can contribute to inflammation. Tallow is nutrient-rich, deeply satiating, efficient, and aligns with a nose-to-tail, regenerative way of eating. Because industrial farming has depleted much of our soil, and therefore the nutrient density of our food, adding nutrition wherever we can is essential. Tallow is full of goodness - and it brings integrity back to our kitchens.
For home cooks who are less familiar with tallow, what are some simple but delicious ways to incorporate it into seasonal or ancestral-style recipes?
Start small: roast vegetables in tallow, fry eggs in it, or use it as the base of a soup or stew. It’s incredible for slow-cooked meats and for getting the crispiest potatoes imaginable. Tallow is one of the easiest and most transformative swaps you can make.
From a nutritional perspective, what benefits have you personally experienced (or seen in others) from cooking with traditional fats, or returning to a more ancestral approach to food?
I see steadier energy, deeper satiety, and clearer mental focus. Traditional fats stabilise blood sugar, support metabolism, and help the body absorb fat-soluble vitamins. You feel more grounded and nourished - not in a diet way, but in a biological way. By avoiding ultra-processed foods and sticking to seasonal, ancestral eating, I rarely get sick. I genuinely can’t remember the last time I had a cold. My approach is prevention rather than cure. Don’t wait to get sick - look after yourself today.
How do you think traditional foods (bone broths, tallow, and foraged greens) support gut health and digestion? Do you have stories or examples from your own
life or clients?
These foods deliver the minerals, collagen, enzymes, and bitter compounds our digestive systems evolved with. Bone broth helped restore my own gut and fully reverse an autoimmune condition and helped me build back after burnout. It also helped clear my skin in my 20s. I see the same in others - calmer digestion, less bloating, clearer skin, and a noticeable lift in vitality when they return to these simple ancestral staples.
Part of ancestral eating is not just about nutrition, but also about our relationship with land and sustainability. How do regenerative practices factor into your cooking and food philosophy?
Regeneration sits at the centre of everything for me. Food is only truly nourishing when it honours the soil it comes from and the people who steward it. Choosing regeneratively raised food feeds both the body and the land - closing the loop, restoring ecosystems, and remembering our place in the cycle of life. We are not separate from nature. Living regeneratively is living with respect, reciprocity, and reverence. Regenerative farming has the capacity to repair the damage caused by extractive, industrial systems. It’s farming in a way that is in service to life.
How do you hope to pass on your food wisdom - ancestral practices, seasonal cooking, nourishing fats - to future generations? What legacy do you want to build through your cooking and writing?
I want to leave stories, recipes, and practices that bring people back to their bodies, their land, and their instincts - to understand that how we do anything is how we do everything. My hope is that future generations inherit not just techniques, but a way of seeing food as a living relationship: something sacred, practical, and deeply human. That’s the legacy I’m building.
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