Campus Cook-Off
General Information
Cooperative Party Game Genre
Campus Cook-Off is a fast-paced couch co-op game where up to four players collaborate in a chaotic college kitchen. Inspired by games like Overcooked, it combines accessible controls with frantic minigames, player communication, and absurd ingredient combinations. Whether you're chopping pineapples or blending tomatoes, the game is designed for lighthearted local multiplayer sessions that escalate into joyful disorder.
Development Information
Team Size: 35
Engine: Unity 2021.3.8f1
Platform: Winnitron / PC
Development Stage: Released
Distribution: Itch.io
Lead Producer Responsibilities
As the sole producer on Campus Cook-Off, I led a 30+ person team through a semester-long studio class, treating the production process with the same structure and seriousness as a shipped title. I created the initial infrastructure for development—organizing sprint plans, recording task breakdowns in collaborative spreadsheets, and translating chaotic early meetings into a clear vision. From day one, I established myself as the point of alignment between departments, and all work filtered through me for prioritization and clarity.
Each week, I stood in front of the entire class to present what had been accomplished and what was next. I coordinated weekly retrospectives with team leads, collecting deliverables, identifying bottlenecks, and shifting responsibilities based on team reliability and task urgency. When teammates fell behind, I reassigned tasks to those I knew could deliver, all while maintaining morale and mutual respect. I managed the live task board, reviewed game features during playtests, and personally identified the need for an onboarding feature, which I then implemented in code—a directional arrow system that visually guided players through the game loop.
I handled team dynamics, content pacing, quality assurance coordination, and feature integration. From the tutorial to the final pizza scoring system, my fingerprints were on every layer of the game—not because I micromanaged, but because I built the system that enabled the work to happen. My dual focus on task clarity and feedback loops made Campus Cook-Off more than just a class project—it became a full production cycle where students created something polished, playable, and far more ambitious than the scope initially suggested.
Lessons I Learned
Campus Cook-Off was my trial by fire as a producer. Here are the lessons that stuck with me and continue to shape how I lead:
Ambiguity is the enemy. Asking someone to “make a texture” isn’t enough. I now always specify resolution, polygon range, intended style, and use case. Vague deliverables lead to lost time and uneven results.
Programming needs oversight. I will never again assume that programmers will iterate quickly or assemble the build on their own. On this project, the game wasn’t playable until the final deadline—due largely to lack of technical accountability. From now on, I personally oversee engineering pipelines and test milestones early.
A “shippable game” is no longer daunting. Before this project, the idea of finishing a full game seemed out of reach. Now I know what it takes—because I’ve seen every discipline up close. I’m not intimidated by the scope anymore; I’m just realistic about the work required.
Some people just won’t do the work. Not everyone in a 400-level class is ready for real production. Many did the bare minimum and avoided ownership. In the future, I’ll push teammates to identify their own strengths instead of waiting to be assigned something.
Clarity beats control. I don’t micromanage. For art and writing, I gave others freedom to express their style and identity. My job is to make sure everyone understands what success looks like—not to dictate how it’s done.
Cutting scope is a leadership skill. Late in development, I made the call to cut many of the planned systems and refocus the game around just one: pizza. It was a hard call, but it saved the project. The game shipped in a playable state because we cut wide and went deep.
I reward effort, not noise. During retrospectives, I highlighted work that showed real care—regardless of how vocal the team member was. Some of our best ideas came from quiet contributors who executed cleanly.
I act as a realist, not a roadblock. During ideation, I filtered grand ideas through feasibility and consistently redirected energy toward what we could actually build. I didn’t aim to shut people down—but I did guide us toward focus.
Leadership is service, not power. I never saw people stepping up as challenges to my authority—in fact, I welcomed it. I may bite off too much, but I’ve learned to accept help when it’s offered.