

MEET ZANA
Founder of The Fridge Light
Zana Sherwood Boyd grew up in a home where food was woven into the rhythm of the day—never fussy, always felt. Mornings began with the CBC murmuring through the kitchen and the scent of something slow and golden on the stove. Her mother, a red seal chef and pastry artist, didn’t follow recipes—she followed instinct. Bread was kneaded from memory, meals built from what was on hand. There were no boxes in the cupboards, only ingredients and imagination.
Their kitchen was a place of play and practicality. Of stories swapped over chopping boards, and quiet lessons baked into every pie crust. Zana learned early that food could be both grounding and transcendent—equal parts art and nourishment.
She came of age surrounded by colour and conversation, music and gallery walls, eventually stepping into a structured world far from the kitchen: aviation. There, she thrived in order and logistics, orchestrating the movement of private aircraft with precision. But when she became a mother, the pace changed—and so did the pull. She began baking from home, at first for the challenge, then for the joy. Slowly, the thread that had been there all along tugged her back.
Now based on Protection Island, Zana is the founder and creative force behind The Fridge Light: Movable Feasts. Her catering is grounded in seasonality and shaped by feeling. It’s custom, abundant, a little unruly, and always beautiful. From intimate dinners to long-table weddings, she brings warmth, nuance, and care to every gathering—often with camera in hand, capturing her food the way she sees it: honest, moody, and alive.
Zana doesn’t just make meals—she builds experiences. Her work is layered and expressive, deeply rooted in memory and intuition. The Fridge Light isn’t just a name. It’s a way of being: of opening the fridge and making something beautiful with what you find. Of trusting your gut. Of feeding people the way you love them.

Why "The Fridge Light"?
Zana first heard the name on a CBC podcast and filed it away in that quiet corner where good ideas live. Years later, while dreaming up her next chapter, her husband gently said, “Didn’t you always love that name?”
She smiled—because she did.
And just like that, The Fridge Light flickered on.
















