Hello!

I’m Rebecca, a food anthropologist and innovation leader with 15 years of experience building a more resilient food system.

I view the world through the lens of food. Nothing energizes me more than digging into a person’s food story, learning how a crop is grown and traded, or discussing the link between tradition and innovation.

I’ve been fortunate to turn my passion and insatiable curiosity about food into a career building a more equitable, nourishing, and regenerative future. I’m currently Director of Sustainability Innovation for food service company Guckenheimer, where I help Guckenheimer and our clients meet climate goals through food and plastics circularity, biodiverse and soil-centered menu design, and supply chain partnerships that support a regenerative food system. I’m also a member of the Aspen Institute’s 2024 Food Leaders Fellowship.

For the previous decade, I was a consultant with global design firm IDEO and strategic foresight agency Institute for the Future, where I partnered with industry leaders to think critically about the future and take action in the present. I’ve also worked for the World Bank, the Financial Accounting Standards Board, and a leather goods factory in Xiamen, China.

A systems thinker at heart, I dive into complexity and thrive at the intersection of insight, innovation, and impact. I’m known for balancing analytical rigor with creativity, leading teams through ambiguity with a strategic eye, and asking smart questions that illuminate what's needed to drive change.

When not at my laptop, you'll find me in the garden, at the stove, in California’s Sierra Nevada mountains, or on a park bench with a good book.

The story behind the photos

  • Years ago I was visiting a friend in Rome, and her father asked where I’d live if I could go anywhere. Without skipping a beat, I said, “Where lemons and olives grow.” Little did I know that I’d live in California for over a decade and visit Italy enough times for it to feel like home. Lemons capture the sun and spirit of the places I connect with most, and they’re a regular ingredient in my kitchen. (I also have the title to my memoir should I ever write one.)

  • My enthusiasm for beans and pulses increased significantly in recent years. Liz Carlisle’s book, Lentil Underground, opened my eyes to the plight of growers pushing against the machine of industrial agriculture. I joined the Rancho Gordo Bean Club after being on the waitlist for years, a boon to my vegetarian household. I’ve always been a food person, and now I’m firmly a bean person. A growing body of research shows that beans is how we can fix food and our future.

  • I don’t have just one food I could eat again and again if stranded on a desert island. I have a desert island meal, and chard is undoubtedly on the menu. I crave the comfort and earthiness of greens of all kinds—perhaps it’s because of my Southern roots. Moving to a home with outdoor space has turned me into an avid gardener, and I grow as many greens as my heart desires. I love watching the cycle from seed to mature plant and back again.

  • One of my favorite simple pleasures is discovering food in my surroundings. Each spring Northern California is covered in three-cornered leeks, which make a fantastic pizza. When on summer walks in the Ligurian town where my partner is from, we carry a container in the event we run into a tree dripping with ripe figs. By early fall, my gardening gloves are stained deep purple from foraging blackberries. These moments remind me that the best things in life are often in plain sight.

  • My first forays in the kitchen as a child were to bake cupcakes, brownies, and Christmas spritz cookies with family. I rekindled the joy of baking during the pandemic, jumping on the sourdough bread bandwagon and never getting off. Although now I cook more often than bake, those early baking experiences were what initially got me into the kitchen. Even now, I can’t say no to a warm chocolate chip cookie, especially if it’s made with dark chocolate and dusted with flaky salt.