The Story of Ash: A Journey of Grit, Grace, and Gastronomy

Picture it: Paonia, Colorado, the mid-80s. A little hippie kid with big dreams and an even bigger appetite for life. I grew up in a world steeped in macrobiotics, meditation, and brown rice. Food was never just sustenance—It was philosophy, ritual, creativity, and connection. I didn’t know it then, but this early exposure would shape every twist and turn of my life, career, and identity.

The journey hasn’t always been a straight path—and frankly, thank goddess for that. I’ve zigzagged through restaurant kitchens, fine wine shops, culinary schools, private cheffing gigs, management roles, and now—perhaps most rewarding of all—I’m using my words to nourish others as a food writer. My story is proof that no experience is wasted, even the hard ones. Especially the hard ones.

There were moments I doubted myself. I’ve been underestimated, dismissed, and yes – fired. I’ve felt the sting of imposter syndrome and the ache of reinvention. But I’ve also felt the thrill of rediscovery. Every time I sharpened a knife, opened a bottle, led a team, or told a story – I found my voice a little more.

Realizing that I had made the conscious decision to not to have a preference when it came to gender preference hasn’t always been easy, but it’s been one of the great spices in my life’s recipe. My sexual fluidity isn’t just part of me—It flavors everything I do. It gives me compassion. It gives me my sparkle. It gives me resilience. It gives me wings! 

But it wasn’t until I truly began writing—openly, honestly, and unapologetically—that I became part of the LGBTQ+ community in a real and connected way. Through interviews, feature stories, event coverage, and sharing my own experience, I found myself surrounded by a vibrant network of queer chefs, drag performers, activists, artists, and culture-makers. My writing became a kind of connective tissue—a way to celebrate, uplift, and reflect the beauty and brilliance of our community.

And woven through it all, there’s Lyle Dean Duke—my dear friend of 30 years, also known as Gadgette. A wild, crazy, livin’ out loud princess and an irreplaceable constant in my life. Lyle has seen every version of me: the scrappy new kid in the big city, the heartbroken girl, the passionate storyteller. Our friendship has been a bedrock of humor, love, and chosen family. His presence in my life long before I fully understood my own identity gave me an unspoken permission to explore, to embrace, and eventually to shine.

Through these friendships and interactions, I didn’t just write about LGBTQ+ folks—I became a part of the chorus. A participant, not just an observer. I’ve MCed queer food events, danced my ass off at Charlie’s and in rainbow-lit kitchens, swapped coming-out stories over cocktails, and witnessed firsthand the power of food and storytelling to create family where there once was none.

Because the truth is, being part of this community has given me far more than just a place to stand—It’s  given me a family. A sense of belonging so deep and true that it’s transformed me. Through the LGBTQ+ community, I’ve grown in ways I never imagined. I’ve learned to love others more fully, to see beauty in difference, and most importantly, to accept and love myself with grace and pride. I am not the same person I was before—I am more whole, more vibrant, and more alive.

I write because it’s how I process the world. I write because I believe stories are sacred. And I write because I want the next generation of queer kids, kitchen lifers, misfits, and dreamers to know they belong. In the dining room. In the spotlight. At the head of the table.

Today, I’m still learning. Still cooking. Still listening. Still growing. And maybe most importantly, still laughing. Life has asked me to pivot, to grow, to stretch beyond what I thought I was capable of. And every time I said “yes” to that scary next step, I found something golden on the other side.

So, here’s to the late bloomers, the career shifters, the creatives, the LGBTQ+ trailblazers, and every beautifully complicated soul on a journey of their own. If I’ve learned anything, it’s that we are never too much, never too late, and never too far gone to become the fullest version of ourselves.

I’m Ashley Trego—food writer, lifelong student of flavor, and a phoenix made of sass, salt, and soul.