From Runways to Recipe Books

I grew up between kitchens. My grandfather was a chef in Kyiv, and my grandmother ran a kitchen in Latvia. My great-grandmother’s Ukrainian dacha featured a vegetable garden and had berry bushes scattered throughout her property. I remember helping her harvest garlic, which she used to make her incredible tomato-and-onion salad. These meals brought us together, and that was what made them so special.

At thirteen, I began modeling. I spent years traveling and working, but what stayed constant was the quiet joy I found in pastry. I would read cookbooks in hotel rooms and bring sweets to friends at school. Eventually, I started choosing kitchens over castings. I traded runways for prep tables and never looked back. 

I almost enrolled in culinary school in New York while modeling, but Phillip, now my husband, convinced me to invest not in tuition, but in kitchens. It was the best decision I could have made. I staged with people who inspired me and learned through repetition, patience, and obsession. 

When we moved to Chicago, I stepped into my first real restaurant kitchen. The pastry prep room was tiny. Everyone moved with purpose. It was intimidating and felt very much like the first day of middle school. But I showed up. I kept showing up. That became a turning point in my life.

What inspires me most has never changed. When I am cooking, I am inspired. Ideas come easily to me when I am in motion. Tough times never took that from me. In fact, the more challenging moments have brought me closer to my food. I create my best work when everything else is loud and I need to return to myself in the kitchen.

One moment that marked me was the development of my sourdough. It took a year to make a version that felt promising and nine years to make one that I was pleased with. That bread tells you everything about who I am. I do not give up. Ever.

My philosophy is built on intention. Desserts should feel personal, precise, and unforgettable. Every flavor should be placed with purpose. I create dishes from scratch, refine slowly, and edit until each bite tells a clear story. Leadership works the same way. In our kitchens, communication sets the tone. I want to see people grow not only as cooks, but as humans. I guide with expectation and with care.

When we went through incredibly difficult periods, it was our team that carried us. One of my pastry cooks has been with me for ten years. That is not staff. That is family.

The night we earned two Michelin stars, one for Pasta|Bar LA and one for Sushi by Scratch Restaurants: Montecito, was surreal. I was three months pregnant. After years of sacrifice, risk, and faith in our craft, that acknowledgment felt like a deep breath. It validated our belief that excellence and humanity can coexist.

I love the craft, the teamwork, and the moments when a guest’s face says, “This is special.” We’re working to be the change we want to see. At Scratch Restaurants Group, Phillip and I offer benefits many entry-level cooks and dishwashers rarely see: health insurance, a 401(k), and paid parental leave. We prioritize the team because great hospitality starts with taking care of our people. When teams feel safe, supported, and respected, food and service quality improve, turnover decreases, and the industry becomes more sustainable. That’s the future we want to build.

We want an industry where great hospitality equals great workplaces. As Phillip and I focus on making this change in the industry, we hope it translates into all restaurant groups and industry employees, who are the driving force behind restaurant success.

Credits to @sarahblockphoto for the first 3 photos.