Not Just Recipes. Stories. Laughs. Messes. Real Stuff.
We don’t run a recipe factory. We build a playground for people who like cooking but don’t always have garlic ready or the patience for 14-step stews. This spot lives for late-night snack fixes, kitchen wins, and flops that turn into fried rice. That’s why we’re calling for people who get it. The real cooks. The laughers. The stirrers. The pickers. The ones who use the wrong knife and still nail dinner. If your writing matches your mashed potato energy, chaotic but comforting, we want you.
Why Write Here?
Because nobody likes reading 800 words of preheat-oven-backstory. Our readers want voice, jokes, visuals, and a sense that someone actually made that dish in a home with dirty spoons. We like rule breakers with heart. Sentence choppers. Image droppers. Idea throwers. If your brain is 80% food daydreams, and the rest memes, you're in the right pot.
This isn't a place for chefs talking down. This is for cooks who mess up but try again anyway. If you like playing with flavors, teaching shortcuts, or just yelling about your love for soy sauce, this is your page now. Own it.
What We Love (A Sample Platter)
- Recipes you actually use more than once.
- Ideas that stretch one item five ways.
- Rants about food trends.
- Kitchen hacks that don’t involve rare herbs.
- Wild combos that somehow work.
- Food writing that sounds like you, not a textbook.
- Lists, doodles, voice memos, comics—yes, really.
- Anything that feels honest and fun.
What To Skip (No Salt Shakers Thrown, Just Honesty)
- Copied content. We mean it. You cook? You write? You shoot? Do that.
- Pretending you invented butter.
- Talking down to beginners.
- Huge essays about your great-great-uncle’s goat stew unless it’s hilarious or tragic.
- Articles that use 37 adjectives per sentence.
- Over-edited to the point of stiff.
Formats We Accept (Loosely)
- How-to articles with chaos energy.
- Longform storytelling, if it’s tight and punchy.
- Recipe+photo combos.
- Cooking comic strips or illustrated step-by-steps.
- First-person rants about flavors.
- Ranked lists that make us laugh.
- Maybe a song about miso.
Voice Matters
Talk how you talk. If you swear while cooking but write like a robot, we feel it. Let your voice come through like it does with your friends. Keep things kind, real, and original. Swearing? Okay with us, if it serves flavor, not filler.
Photos? Drawings? Bring Them.
You can shoot with your phone. You can sketch on a napkin. Got a scanned doodle of a confused broccoli? Yes, please. Real beats polished every time.
How To Pitch Us
Got a spicy piece? Send it. Think your ideas belong here? Drop us a quick pitch. You don’t need a whole draft. Just show us what you want to cook up with a few solid sentences. If you have stuff published elsewhere, send links. No pressure, though. We care more about your flavor than your CV.
Email pitches to: contact@mischief.sg
What To Include In Your Email
- Your name (real one, please).
- Title of your idea.
- A few lines on what it is and why you think it rocks.
- Any links to your past food writing, photos, sketches.
- Your Instagram or TikTok (if you post food).
- Your country and timezone so we know how late we’re emailing.
What Happens Next
We read every pitch. Really. If it sparks something, we’ll write back. If we pass, it’s not personal. There are too many awesome writers. We just can’t say yes to every one. Don’t take it hard. Try again later. Or pitch something new right after.
Editing
We treat your writing like leftovers worth saving, tweak the spice, not torch the whole dish. Edits stay light unless something needs major smoothing. We tidy grammar goofs, tighten a rambling bit, or shuffle stuff so it flows better. Your voice never gets the boot. We’re not here to iron your slang flat or strip flavor. You sound like you, or what’s the point?
If something’s unclear, or maybe just needs a small push, we’ll ask first. Always. Nothing gets chopped or swapped without you saying yes. No sneaky rewrites. If a change feels too far from your vibe, we scrap it. This is a two-person stir—not a solo remix by us.
Our notes are short, honest, and kind. No red pen. No trauma. Mostly just nudges to help your piece hit a little harder. Like “hey, more detail here,” or “let’s tighten this chunk.” If you’re new to edits, no stress. We’ll walk you through it. If you’re old hat, even better—argue back if you think we’re off.
Rights
Once we hit publish, your piece finds a home on our site. But you? Still own every brain cell that made it. We don’t claim your voice or lock down your ideas. Your name stays on it. Your words stay yours. Want to write more about that same subject later? No problem. Want to post a remix elsewhere? Ask us first, we’re not weird about it.
We believe in credit, clear lines, and not being greedy. If someone asks to reprint your work, we loop you in. If you ever want to pull something down, reach out. We talk. We don’t ghost. We don’t disappear with your stuff or stick it on mugs.
You get full recognition, links to your social handles, and proper credit anywhere it shows up. We’re strict about this in a good way.
No Gatekeepers
If you’ve never published anything before, great. If your last writing gig was that spicy takedown of soggy fries on Instagram, cool. You don’t need clips, a portfolio, or a food degree. What matters is voice. And heart. And the weird stuff you think about while stirring noodles.
Some of the best pieces come from first-timers, hobbyists, or folks just itching to say something loud. Got a note app full of kitchen rants? A photo series about mislabelled herbs? A song about egg whites? Send it. If you care about food, we care about what you have to say.
We don’t ask for past publishing credits. We don’t care if you've been in fancy food mags. If you’ve got something to say, say it loud. Write wild. Write messy. Write like you’re yelling across the kitchen to a friend who just burned the toast. That’s what we love.