The Guatemalan Engine Behind a Filipino Kitchen

A former soldier, a young mechanic, and a family butcher—three men who never imagined they’d become cooks, now holding the line behind one of Austin’s rising Filipino restaurants.

Photo credits to @robertjacoblerma

This is the United States.More specifically—this is Austin, Texas.

A Filipino restaurant led by a Filipino chef.
And behind him, a powerhouse of three Latin American line cooks—Guatemalan, hard-working, and relentless.

The kitchen moves in a mix of languages: Tagalog, Spanish, Spanglish, broken English, and unspoken rhythm. It’s the kind of connection that rarely happens anywhere else—but happens every day behind the pass.

In this space, you’ll find a former soldier, a mechanic, and a butcher working shoulder to shoulder.
You’ll find a team that might not share a mother tongue—but shares timing, pressure, fire.

Kitchens, for all their flaws—and sometimes toxic, outdated culture—still hold something sacred.
Something beautiful.
A unity beyond borders.
A shared language built on movement, urgency, taste.
Sometimes, if you look closely enough, you’ll find hope in humanity standing right there on the line—burnt arms, fast hands, tired eyes, and hearts wide open.

At the center of it is Chef Harold—someone we’ve always admired not just for his food, but for the way he works with people, not above them. He’s building something different.


And this team is proof of that. Here, William, Kevin, and Francisco don’t just hold down the line—they shape it. And their stories speak to the quiet power of kitchens built on second chances, shared effort, and fire that doesn’t just cook—but transforms.

From Soldier to Sous Chef — William Martínez

I wasn’t always a cook. For eleven years, I served in the fuerzas armadas de Guatemala. I grew up drawn to weapons, to structure, to discipline. That was the path I chose early on.

But there was always something that gave me peace: my grandmother’s kitchen.
She’d say, “Vas a venir a cocinar conmigo?” And in that small space, something shifted. It made me put my weapons down. It disarmed me. Cooking with her felt calm, real—nothing like my job.

I had always been interested in food, but back in Guatemala it wasn’t easy. Time and money made it feel impossible.
Here in Austin, it was different.
The kitchen was what opened the door for me. I started as a prep cook and dishwasher.

And honestly, I think the discipline from my time in the military helped me grow. The structure, the organization—that, combined with my love for cooking, helped me move forward on the line.

Now I’m a sous chef. I work with Chef Harold, and together we’ve been creating recipes and trying new ideas. People leave happy, and that motivates us. But more than anything, I value the team. Everyone here puts their heart into it. I always tell them: this only works because of you.

It hasn’t been easy. I’ve burned myself many times.
But there’s one moment I’ll never forget—cooking halibut with oil at high heat and an oven over 500 degrees. I got badly burned. For a second, I thought, maybe this isn’t for me.
But I kept going. Because when you really love something, obstacles turn into lessons—and motivation.

Here in Austin, I’ve started to find my voice as a cook.
Mexican food—especially from Bacalar—is very similar to Guatemalan food. The moles, the pepián, the seasoning… those flavors run through our blood. And Austin is a great place to bring those traditions together.

I’m grateful for every chef who’s opened a door for me, taken the time to teach me, and inspired me to pursue this career.

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From Engine Blocks to Sauté Pans — Kevin Hernandez

“I’m from Rotableo, Guatemala. I moved to Austin two years ago. Back home, I was studying auto mechanics—but money was tight, and I had to drop out. I never thought I’d work in a kitchen. But here, most of my family and friends already did, so it was the easiest place to start.

I began as a dishwasher, then moved into prep. Now, I’m on the sauté station.

It’s nothing like mechanics. There, if you mess up, nothing works—or worse, it breaks.
In the kitchen, you can fix a mistake with a little water or a pinch of sugar. Unless someone has an allergy—then it gets serious too.

I used to cook for myself back in Guatemala, especially when my parents weren’t around. Just simple things. I didn’t think much of it. But now, I’m starting to enjoy it more and more.

It wasn’t my plan, but this job grew on me. The pace, the teamwork—it gives you purpose.”

From Family Butchery to Restaurant Line — Francisco Lopez Lopez

“I came to Austin at the end of 2021. But I already knew how to cook. Back in Guatemala, my family and I used to butcher pigs every week. It was part of our business. We cooked chicharrón, sold food to the neighbors, worked side by side. It’s still going—my brothers are running it now.

Here, my first job wasn’t in a kitchen. I lasted two months doing something else before I said: I need to be cooking. That’s where I feel good. That’s what I know.

I’ve been working with Chef Harold for seven months now. He’s a good person. I’ve learned so much from him—different cuts, different cuisines, even Italian dishes and quesadillas. Every kitchen I’ve worked in has taught me something.

My dream is to return to Guatemala someday and open a place of my own.
To mix what I know with everything I’ve learned here.
To bring it full circle. Back to my family. Back to the fire.”

Photo credits to @robertjacoblerma