When TikTok first appeared, it felt like a noisy mishmash of attention-seeking clips—mostly amateurish, sometimes seedy, and more than enough to put any respectable person off the platform entirely. It didn’t exactly invite curiosity.
But over time, TikTok has proved itself to be something quite different. In fact, it’s become surprisingly useful.
I now find myself watching short, sharp videos on history—particularly South African history—often presented in ways that feel refreshingly uncensored. There’s also a strong vein of practical, information-based content: financial insights, supermarket spending comparisons, everyday money realities. The kind of material that actually helps you make sense of daily life.
There’s even a woman whose videos I’ve come across regularly, offering clear-headed, practical insights about men, self-worth, self-esteem, and where to draw the line when dealing with certain types of people. It’s grounded, no-nonsense advice—and it works because it’s delivered simply and directly.
But the real surprise for me has been food.
The cooking content on TikTok is genuinely fascinating. What sets it apart is how uncomplicated it all feels. You don’t need a DSTV subscription—something that’s losing subscribers hand over fist in this new media environment—and you don’t need to sit through long, overly produced television cooking shows that often make simple food feel intimidating or exotic.
Traditional TV cooking programmes can be cumbersome. Too many ingredients. Too many steps. Too much theatre. And cookbooks? Anyone who’s tried cooking directly from one knows how often things don’t quite turn out the way they should. You follow the recipe faithfully and still wonder where you went wrong.
TikTok cooking videos are different. They’re visual, immediate, and practical. They show you what matters—and skip what doesn’t.
Two of the creators I watch regularly have completely changed how I think about home cooking. One is Italian and shows, among other things, how easy it actually is to make your own pasta. Proper pasta. I never realised how straightforward it was. And it feels authentic because it is authentic—a dyed-in-the-wool Italian demonstrating something his culture has perfected over centuries. Yes, pasta may have originated in China thousands of years ago, but the Italians have unquestionably made it their own.
The other creator is a mature Frenchman who cooks beautifully simple food. No fuss. No pretence. Just good technique and common sense. One evening I watched his short video on using leftover bread to make savoury fritters. It looked so good that I made a batch immediately—without even going back to check the recipe. The visuals were so clear, the process so well demonstrated, that it was easy to chop the bread, mix the ingredients, heat a little olive oil, and fry them up.
They were superb.
I’ve honestly never had that kind of cooking experience before—where confidence replaces hesitation so completely. And that’s thanks to TikTok.
I’ve deliberately not mentioned the names of these chefs. Not because they aren’t excellent, but because their appeal is personal. I like Italian and French cooking—especially French cooking, for its simplicity and naturalness. Your tastes may be entirely different. You may not even be interested in cooking at all.
That’s the point.
TikTok’s newer algorithms are doing something genuinely interesting: they’re surfacing information, skills, and ideas in a way that feels intuitive and tailored, without the old barriers of schedules, subscriptions, or gatekeepers. It’s a far cry from sitting down to evening television the way we used to years ago.
Whether it’s food, history, finance, or something entirely unexpected, chances are you’ll find something that speaks to you—if you’re willing to scroll with an open mind.
