A Restaurant Called Home

A story about food, family, and rewriting the recipe for how an industry should care for its own.


Fernanda Alvarez

I grew up surrounded by love served on plates. Sundays in my family meant endless tables, laughter, and stories, always with food at the center. My grandmother’s pots were sacred, her cooking a blend of Mexican roots with German and French touches. You could smell her dishes from the street, calling everyone home. Around that table, I learned that food was more than sustenance. It was love and belonging. That is why I chose this path, because I believe there is no greater act of love than sharing your heart, your essence, your table, and your soul in every plate you serve.

 

Cooking opened every door in my life. It led me into television, into creating experiences, and into founding my companies. Epic Happenings in Mexico City and Miami, and Epic Foods in CDMX. Whether I’m curating private chef services as an Airbnb partner or planning soulful corporate dinners, everything begins with cooking. It’s the foundation of who I am.

 

I studied culinary arts formally, but most of my education came from the kitchens of life: restaurants, catering, television sets, and the traditions passed down in my family. That blend of formal training and lived experience shaped me into a chef who values both technique and intuition. 

 

My first taste of a restaurant kitchen was in Italy, at eighteen, when my parents and I made fresh pasta from scratch in the home of Massimo and Patricia. That moment touched my heart, showing me how food carries soul. 

 

Later, in Mexico City, I stepped into my first professional kitchen: chaos, rhythm, giant pots, prep women who were the true queens. They carried centuries of knowledge in their hands, and I was in awe. I learned quickly that the kitchen pushes you to the edge. It humbles you, tests you, and forces you to grow.

 

There were times I felt too small, intimidated, and overwhelmed. At eighteen, the pressure and rhythm nearly broke me. But I learned to reinvent myself, to embrace failure with tolerance, and to understand that you never truly know it all. There is always someone to learn from. Above all, the kitchen gave me strength and the certainty that cooking is not just my craft but my way of loving and serving the world.

 

Some moments have shaped me forever. Like the time a man and his son came into my Miami restaurant and asked me to cook freely. I fed them with love, not knowing he was the Mayor. Later, I cooked for his family and even delivered food to his home when he was sick during the pandemic. Or the time I cooked for Billie Eilish in Mexico, asked to prepare sustainable, plant-based cuisine. Those moments reminded me of why I belong here, because food can heal, inspire, and transform.

 

My philosophy in the kitchen is that food is love, connection, and respect. Every ingredient carries life, and it deserves to be treated with care and gratitude. Cooking is about creating moments that bring people together and make them feel seen. As a leader, I carry that same philosophy: leading with empathy, humility, and resilience. I encourage my team to honor the process, to trust the rhythm, and always to keep creativity alive. 

 

For me, the kitchen is not just a workplace but a sanctuary of service and learning. When I had my restaurant in Miami, it felt like home. The customers became family, and the staff was one big family too. Raquel, a woman from Guatemala who arrived early every morning to do the prep, was significant to me. She didn’t just work beside me, she cared for me. She made my overnight oats and chia pudding so I would always have breakfast ready, and when someone in the restaurant served me food, it felt like a hug for my soul. 

 

Everywhere in the world, cooks take care of each other. It’s a language that needs no words. You do it because at some point, another colleague has cared for you. From helping with reservations to feeding one another in our restaurants to building real connections, that spirit of hospitality is what unites us. In my own restaurant in South Florida, I supported small entrepreneurs by inviting them to host pop-ups in my space so that they could share their craft with my community. 

 

For me, hospitality has always been about lifting each other and creating family wherever you are. During those years in Los Angeles and Miami, my family was the one I built in the kitchen: my customers, my cooking school students, the production crews of the TV shows I worked on, and even the people who turned on their television to cook alongside me. And nothing makes me happier than being invited to a taste testing or asked for my input on a recipe.

 

The hardest part of this industry is not the pressure of service, but the lack of care for the people who make it possible. Long hours, low wages, and neglecting to eat or drink during service are not sustainable. I dream of a more human industry, where salaries are fair, mental and physical health matter, and cooks are valued as people, not just labor.

 

From my side, I actively work with local producers, honoring the land and the people behind each ingredient. I also make sure to pay fair wages and create a supportive environment for my team, because when we take care of each other, the whole system grows stronger. For me, change begins with small, conscious choices that ripple outward, building a better future for everyone at the table.

Secret Sauce

  1. What’s the most unexpected ingredient you’ve ever worked with, and how did it change your perspective on cooking?

One of the most unexpected ingredients I’ve ever worked with is edible flowers. At first, I thought of them only as decoration, but once I began cooking with them, I realized they carry flavor, energy, and even healing properties. They taught me that food is medicine and storytelling. This shifted my perspective forever. Now I see every ingredient, no matter how delicate or overlooked, as powerful and deserving of respect.

  1. What’s your “guilty pleasure” meal?

French Fries with ketchup.

  1. A food trend that you hate and why?

One food trend I really dislike is over-processed “healthy” products. Foods marketed as plant-based, gluten-free, or sustainable, but actually filled with chemicals, preservatives, and ingredients that don’t truly nourish the body. For me, food should be real, alive, and connected to the earth. Cooking is about honoring ingredients in their natural state, not disguising them. Trends that prioritize aesthetics or marketing over authenticity take us further away from the true essence of food, which is to nourish, heal, and connect.

  1. What’s the craziest shift you’ve ever worked in the kitchen? What happened, and how did you manage to get through it?

The craziest shift I ever worked was in Miami, during a holiday weekend when we were completely overbooked. The line never stopped, tickets kept flying in, and the heat, noise, and adrenaline felt like a storm. We were short-staffed, so I jumped between stations, plating, expediting, and even running food to the tables. It was absolute chaos, but also magic, because in the middle of that pressure, the team came together like a family. We laughed, we sweated, and somehow we pulled it off.

5. What happened, and how did you manage to get through it?

What happened was pure chaos, with orders piling up, hands missing on the line, and the pressure of a full house expecting perfection. I managed to get through it by breathing, staying grounded, and focusing on one plate at a time. I leaned on my team, jumped into every role that was needed, and trusted the rhythm we created together. In the middle of the storm, I realized that kitchens are not about one person. They’re about community, resilience, and the ability to turn chaos into beauty. That night taught me that leadership means presence, adaptability, and never losing sight of love for what you do.

  1. What tips would you give to other cooks and chefs to help them navigate their culinary careers and find peace amid the chaos of the kitchen?

My advice to cooks and chefs is to stay grounded and true to yourself. Take inspiration from others, but never copy. Trust your gut and your own original proposal, even if it doesn’t make sense at the beginning. Take time off to nurture your creativity, because burnout is real. Go to the markets, get lost in the colors, work with vegetables, superfoods, edible flowers, and ingredients that keep food alive and joyful. Learn from the real MVPs, the prep cooks, your grandmothers, your mothers, because their knowledge is gold. Stay humble, sharpen your knives, wear colorful aprons, and remember that cooking should also be fun.

At the same time, take care of your body and mind. Always eat, rest, sleep properly, and drink water. Work with a therapist to manage adrenaline consumption and a physical therapist for your lower back, knees, and legs, because the kitchen is tough on the body. Find a sous chef who shares your taste buds, so you don’t carry the weight alone. Find your crew, the people you can trust, and take care of them as much as they take care of you. Cook as if you were cooking for yourself, because every guest is the most special guest.

And never forget that we are all rockstars. Don’t compete, make teams, and grow together. Cook alongside your favorite chefs and colleagues. Celebrate each other’s victories, because when one of us rises, we all rise. 

  1. What’s an underrated ingredient and why?

An underrated ingredient for me is cilantro. Many people think of it only as a garnish, but it is so much more. It carries brightness, depth, and even healing properties. Cilantro can transform a dish with just a handful, bringing freshness and balance to heavy flavors.

8. What’s a must-try dish from your kitchen or the one you’re proudest to have prepared?

I don’t think I have just one favorite dish I’ve cooked, because for me it’s not about the recipe itself, but about what it creates. What excites me most is when a dish transports someone or when a flavor reminds them of their grandmother’s kitchen, a childhood Sunday, or a moment of joy they thought they had forgotten. Sometimes it’s a colorful plant-based ceviche, a reimagined mole, or even a simple dish made with love, but the common thread is that food becomes a portal. My proudest dishes are the ones that awaken memories and emotions, because that is when food goes beyond the plate and touches the soul.

About Your City!

Mexico City
  1. If Anthony Bourdain or a chef came to your city, what would be the perfect tour itinerary from breakfast to dinner?

If Anthony Bourdain or a chef friend came to Mexico City, I would start the morning at my home with one of my colorful superfood smoothies, before heading out to Mercado de Medellín to explore local produce, edible flowers, and spices. From there, we’d stop at Buna Coffee for the best cortado with oat milk, and then visit Mercado el 100 to meet my favorite organic farmers and small producers.

For lunch, I’d take them to what I consider the best taco food truck in town, followed by an afternoon walk through Condesa and Roma, and then a stop downtown at La Lagunilla market for antiques, music, and culture. The next morning, we’d head to the chinampas in Xochimilco at sunrise, to watch the day begin while sharing homemade tortillas and fresh local produce surrounded by history and nature. Back in the city, we’d pause for my favorite matcha and a walk with my dog. For drinks, I’d take them to Bósforo for an unforgettable mezcal experience. Then, we’d sit down for dinner at Máximo, one of my favorite restaurants in Mexico City, where modern creativity meets tradition.

And finally, we would end the night with a bike ride through the city with one of the local cycling clubs, a perfect way to feel the accurate pulse of Mexico City.