When Davon Moseley of @royaleeats first began posting pictures of the meals he cooked during the pandemic, little did he know that he was laying the foundations for a culinary empire. Several years and hundreds of uploads later, he’s serving up soul food recipes to an audience larger than the population of his home city, Washington DC. As far as he’s concerned, though, everything he’s done up to this point is still an appetizer.

After amassing millions of followers on Instagram, TikTok, and YouTube — and landing partnerships with companies like Kraft Foods and Brunch App — Moseley has started taking his business beyond social media. In addition to teaching classes, he recently published his first physical cookbook, Let’s Get Into It: 130+ Comfort Food Recipes for Novice Cooks. He also launched his own production company, First Bite Studios, whose debut project, Borders, sees him traveling across California’s diverse natural landscape in search of recipes inspired by local ingredients.

The content creator-turned-business owner attributes much of his early success to an initial lack of knowledge about the highly competitive world he ventured into. A health and wellness coach by education, he didn’t have any prior experience in video editing or SEO optimization. Where other internet chefs tune their menus to the ever-shifting appetites of the algorithm, Moseley cooked what he wanted, when he wanted, how he wanted — and in retrospect, that’s precisely what allowed him to distinguish Royale Eats from the rest of the crowd.

Big Think caught up with Moseley to discuss what other qualities he has to thank for his success, how transforming his passion into a career has changed his mindset, and why he’d rather you didn’t call him an “influencer.”

Big Think: Nowadays most people get their recipes online, on websites and social media. In this digital age, what’s the added value of a physical cookbook?

Davon Moseley: Having a physical product — it’s just a different experience. I always compare my work to the music industry. It’s one thing to play songs on your phone, but it’s another to have a CD or vinyl to listen to. It allows you to feel more connected to the art and the artist. Also, it’s tangible: If something ever happened to the internet, it will still be there.

Big Think: There’s no shortage of articles, videos, and posts on how to become a professional content creator. What’s the right move: following your heart, or the algorithm?

Davon Moseley: There’s a balance, but it’s not 50–50. Staying true to yourself helps you connect with people, but you also have to understand the system to stand out in it. Posting on TikTok is very different from YouTube. YouTube is long-form — people expect to watch a story develop over there. On TikTok, on the other hand, you have only a couple of seconds to capture someone’s attention before they keep on scrolling.

Big Think: You’ve mentioned that you’re not a big fan of the term “influencer” and prefer “inspirer.” How do you feel about being called a “content creator”?

Davon Moseley: I have a complicated relationship with that label, too. I understand why it exists and don’t think there’s anything wrong with people identifying with it. For me, though, I don’t think of myself as a content creator so much as an artist. The reason I like to compare myself to musicians is that the process of crafting something from nothing feels similar, regardless of what it is you’re crafting.

Content creation is just one part of the job. Yes, I make content. But I also develop recipes and host cooking classes. I don’t like to confine myself by calling myself a content creator or influencer. Influencing is about getting someone to follow you. Inspiring is broader: it’s about helping someone see what’s already inside themselves. Words are powerful, and if we’re not conscious of how they’re used, we can end up boxing each other into definitions that don’t really fit who we are and what we do.

Big Think: People sometimes underestimate how much work goes into content creation. Have you ever been in a situation where you felt like your job wasn’t taken seriously? 

Davon Moseley: Yes — I’ve even experienced it with my own family. People struggle to understand my schedule or assume I have all this free time just because I work from home. But I think it ultimately comes down to me understanding what I’m doing — to knowing the truth of the matter and not being swayed by anyone else’s perception.

Influencing is about getting someone to follow you. Inspiring is broader: it’s about helping someone see what’s already inside themselves.

It’s not my job to make everyone understand my life or my business. My job is to follow through on my vision and achieve the goals I’ve set for myself. Of course it can be frustrating when people are dismissive about what you do, but I think that happens in every field. Whether you’re an entrepreneur or a politician, there’s always going to be something about your job that other people don’t fully get. 

Big Think: As someone who loves their job and derives meaning and energy from it, how do you maintain a healthy work-life balance?

Davon Moseley: My work-life balance used to be terrible because, when I started Royale Eats, there wasn’t really a blueprint for me to follow. I had to figure out everything on my own. There were days when I’d wake up and work until I went to bed. Since I had never run a business before — and didn’t go to school for entrepreneurship — I didn’t know what balance looked like. 

I’m a naturally hard worker, and being a hard worker can make it easy to neglect rest. I actually had to teach myself to take breaks, to pick up hobbies outside of work, and stick to them. Once I did all this, though, I immediately saw how much it helped me both personally and professionally. Taking time to step away from work makes me more creative, focused, and grateful when I come back to it.

Big Think: When you’re presenting or narrating a video, you don’t talk the same way you would in everyday conservation — there’s a different tone and energy. How did you find your online voice?

Davon Moseley: I’m my own biggest critic and overanalyze everything I do and say. When I started out, I wanted to talk in a way that sounded like a natural conversation, not a monologue — reading sentence after sentence. I also wanted to talk in a way that made people feel relaxed, not anxious. 

I have an accent and naturally talk fast because that’s just how people speak where I’m from and grew up. But since I can’t talk that way when I’m making content, I learned to slow down. I also make sure to avoid certain slang words so people from different parts of the world can understand. If I want someone in Germany or South Africa to follow what I’m saying, I have to be mindful of that.

Communication is one of our most important skills as humans — it’s how we connect. Different scenarios call for different approaches. The way I talk with friends is different from the way that I speak in a professional setting. It’s not that one is real and the other is not, just that there’s a time and place for everything. It’s not about what’s fake: it’s about knowing how to communicate effectively depending on the circumstances.

Big Think: What do you do when a piece of content you’re really passionate about doesn’t perform well — when your own tastes seem to differ from that of the audience?

Davon Moseley: Even though I have full control over what I do, I have a business to run. I don’t have someone giving me direct orders, but in a way, my audience is my boss. Yes, I can do whatever I want, but if the audience is not receptive, my business suffers. 

My background is in dieting and eating healthy foods — I followed a plant-based lifestyle for several years, and learned a lot of recipes that way but my audience tends to gravitate toward comfort food. When I try to make something healthy, it doesn’t always perform as well. Not because it isn’t good — it’s just not what people look for.

When people are willing to spend their hard-earned money on what you create — that’s not just support, that’s investment.

The food I made one or two years ago might not reflect the chef I am today. I want to evolve, but I have to do so while staying connected with my audience. Rather than taking away what they love, I gradually introduce them to new things. That way, they can see my progression and maybe feel like they’re progressing with me. 

Big Think: What was the moment when you realized that Royale Eats had developed from a passion project into an actual business?

Davon Moseley: I think it was when I started to see a community forming around what I was doing. At first, I was just sharing what I cooked that day, posting a plate here and there. But then people started asking, “Hey, can I buy that?” and “If you make that again, I’ll pay for it.” That’s when it clicked for me. When people are willing to spend their hard-earned money on what you create — that’s not just support, that’s investment. They’re saying, “I believe in what you’re doing, and I want to be part of it.” 

Big Think: When this shift took place, did your mindset change as well? Did you start to approach cooking differently when it became your primary source of income?

Davon Moseley: The more my audience grew, the more I started looking at myself critically, in a productive way. I realized that how I carry myself day-to-day directly affects my work. My energy, my mood — all of that shows up in the videos I make, in my voiceovers, even in the recipes. People can feel where you’re at, whether they realize it or not. I can usually hear it right away when I play back one of my recordings. And if my energy’s off, I’ll take a breath, reset, put myself in the headspace I want others to be in when they watch me, and do it again.

Big Think: Sometimes people who turn their hobby into a business fall out of love with that hobby. Have you experienced this at all?

Davon Moseley: When people see me cook, there’s this expectation that it has to be perfect or “content-worthy.” The kitchen used to be my escape. Now, the kitchen — any kitchen — reminds me of work. I’ve had to make a conscious effort to counter that. Sometimes, I’ll cook something and not record it, just to remind myself that I still love cooking for what it is, and not just for what it has led me to.