Are you the Chef?
I get asked that a lot—usually while dropping off a dish or clearing a plate.
No. But here’s what I am.
When you learn about a wine you’ve never heard of—but can’t wait to tell someone about—it’s because I’ve spent hours tasting, reading, learning, meeting with winemakers and small vendors who believe in craft over mass production. I pick every bottle with care. I train the team to pour with context, not just confidence.
When you sip that glass of wine and feel instantly at ease—it’s because I chose stemless glasses that look casual but are anything but. Their weight, thickness, and texture were chosen to reduce heat transfer, so your wine stays balanced and expressive, even in your hand. Just like Italians would. Hospitality lives in that kind of detail.
When you cut into our housemade bread without having to wrestle it, it’s because we give you a steak knife. Not for ceremony—for ease. For grace.
When you taste something fresh, seasonal, vibrant—it’s because I drove to the farm. I met the growers. I walked the fields and built the menu around what they had that week.
When the chili oil lands just right on your pizza, not in a heavy glob but in a delicate, even layer—that’s because we bottle it as a spray. Not for show, but for flavor. For precision.
When you feel held by our staff—seen, remembered, laughed with—it’s not because they’re my family (though I get asked that almost daily). It’s because I hired them intentionally. I’ve spent two decades building and training teams in some of the toughest hospitality environments. I don’t just look for skills—I look for kindness, humility, presence. And then I teach the rest.
When your event feels effortless, it’s because I was there from the very first email. I walk every host through the details. I make sure the menu flows, that it is built just for you, that the dietary notes are honored, the lighting is right, your family is taken care of and the music hits at the perfect volume when the candles are lit.
And when I’m not doing any of that, I’m hugging Teresa, our dishwasher—one of the kindest human I have ever met, I’m watering the flowers. Refilling the loose-leaf tea jars. Reading every reservation note before we open the doors and cracking jokes.
So no, I’m not the chef.
But I am the one who thought of every detail, and considered how every choice would make you feel. That's the work that lights me up -- making sure that every moment of your night is not just right, but unforgettable.
People often associate restaurants with what’s on the plate. But what you feel when you walk in—that’s storytelling. That’s intention. That’s hospitality. That’s my work.
And I love it.
With love always,
Roxana
