From Dishwasher to Leader, From Chaos to Clarity

I’ve been in kitchens since I was fourteen. My first job was as a dishwasher in a steakhouse, where I was thrown into the chaos at a young age. It was loud and unrelenting, like stepping onto a pirate ship. And I loved it. That first steak sandwich they fed me for dinner sealed it: if I stayed in this industry, I’d never be hungry again.

I didn’t dabble in other careers. This has always been my path. Culinary school gave me the foundation, but life, travel, and the people I met educated me. Cooking isn’t just about technique; it’s about culture and tradition. It’s about listening, learning, and carrying those lessons with you into every dish you prepare.

I didn’t even see the obstacles in my early cooking days. I was too busy being a sponge. Everything was new, everything was a lesson. Somewhere along the way, I was told that cooking was a connection to the ghosts of our past. That stuck with me. It’s why I cook the way I do, to chase my story, my ethnicity, my roots. Food is memory.

My philosophy is simple: keep it honest, keep it yours. Who are your people? Where are you from? What inspires you? That’s the story you should be telling on the plate. I lead from the front. I mop floors, wash dishes, and cook on the line because no one in my kitchen is “too good” for anything.

Sobriety is a big part of my story. I’ve been carried by the voices of others in this industry who opened up about their struggles. They gave me the courage to face my own, and now I share my journey so someone else knows they’re not alone.

I measure success by the people around me. Opening my own restaurants allowed me to create jobs and provide employment. Watching my city grow with the talent that’s come through my kitchen is my proudest achievement.

Though there’s a lot in this industry that needs to change, I’m frustrated by the celebrity chef culture. Too many people are chasing fame instead of craft. 

I believe that restaurants can be places of connection. Places where the community gathers. Not everything needs to be an Instagram moment. Sometimes it’s just about appreciating the care, the work, the love that went into a meal. That’s the future I want to fight for. One where food is respected, kitchens are healthy, and the ghosts of our past live on through every dish.