From Healthcare to Hospitality

I grew up with food at the center of everything. Some of my earliest and most vivid memories are standing next to my dad while he grilled. I was just a kid, hanging around, talking, laughing, watching him work. The smell of the smoke, the way he handled the grill, the flavors he pulled out of something so simple, it all felt like magic.

 

He would always hand me a little taste before anything was done, like a promise of what was coming. And he didn’t just cook for us. He shared hot dogs with neighbors, fed other kids on the block, and made the grill a gathering point. That’s where I first understood the power of food and community. My dad was cool like that.

 

The other moment that shaped me came from my grandmother. I can still hear the sound of rock salt grinding inside the wooden bucket as she churned vanilla ice cream. The best ice cream I’ve ever had. It taught me patience. Waiting felt endless, but the reward was always worth it. 

 

Before food fully took over my life, I earned a degree in Healthcare Administration from Texas Southern University and worked in the healthcare industry briefly. It was meaningful work, but it made one thing very clear: I was not built for an office. What I did love was working with people, caring about their experience, and making them feel seen. Food gave me a way to do all of that without sitting behind a desk.

 

I went to culinary school at The Art Institute of Houston, which gave me a solid foundation, but Houston itself became my real classroom. This city, its cultures, its people, its food, taught me more than any syllabus ever could. Eating across neighborhoods, learning techniques from the community, tasting stories on plates, that shaped how I cook.

 

My first real kitchen job humbled me fast. I was hired as a dishwasher by a notable chef less than a year out of school. My ego took a hit. He told me it would make a great story one day when I made it big. He was right. I washed dishes for weeks, then worked my way up. To this day, I hold dishwashers in the highest regard. That job taught me respect from the ground up.

 

Speed was one of my earliest challenges. I wanted everything to be perfect, so I moved slowly. Prep was slow. Plating was slow. My feet were slow. I fixed that the only way you can, by doing the work over and over again. Reps. Prep whenever I could. Muscle memory. Instinct. Confidence came with time and repetition.

 

One moment in the kitchen changed the way I think forever. Early on, an executive chef asked me to prepare a dish I had never executed before. I thought I was ready. I wasn’t. I hadn’t honestly thought through what I needed. The comments that followed were embarrassing, but the lesson stuck. From that day on, I became meticulous about my setups, about thinking ahead, about preparation as a form of respect. That moment taught me how to feel like a chef.

 

My philosophy in the kitchen is to cook with intention and serve with heart. Flavors should be bold but never forced. Creativity thrives when you aren’t afraid to fail. Consistency is kindness. Respect the craft without letting it box you in. Keep it playful. Keep it elegant. Let the dish tell the story. That’s the roadmap I cook by and the one I pass on to the next generation.

 

One of the most challenging moments of my life was losing my father. During that time, my kitchen became my support system. Management gave me space without pressure. When I came back, my team knew when I needed laughter and when I needed quiet. In an industry that can feel cold, I felt nothing but warmth. That kind of care stays with you forever.

 

Reflecting on my career, being selected for Top Chef was incredibly validating. Making it to the final six and winning Fan Favorite, while keeping my composure under pressure, mattered. But so did betting on myself and starting my own business, choosing to do things my way. That took courage.

 

I have high hopes for the future of the restaurant and food and beverage industry. I am optimistic about improving ownership experiences and profit margins through better legislation related to healthcare, small farming, tax relief, and labor shortages. I actively engage in discussions with the James Beard Foundation and local government to help educate existing restaurant owners and aspiring entrepreneurs about available resources.

 

I’ve participated in conversations with our local representatives to address the industry’s needs and how they can effectively advocate for us on Capitol Hill. More immediately, I prioritize shopping locally and dining with chef-driven small-business owners. I believe it’s essential to support the community I live in by investing my money locally.

 

Credits to photo cover and photos 1, 2, 4, 5 and 11 to @carterhiyama.