Where it all started: my grandmother's farm

My grandparents and family at the farm in Arkansas.

On growing up, feeding people, and realizing — just recently — where I actually come from.

When people ask me how I got into food, I usually start with the restaurants, or the catering, or the long road from a Boston newsroom to a San Francisco kitchen. That's the professional answer. But the real answer starts much earlier, on a farm in Arkansas, in the summers of my childhood.

My dad was in the military. He deployed often, and when he did, we'd go back to my grandmother's. That farm was the most stable place I knew — a place of complete freedom and safety from the time I was small. Eight acres of growing land, livestock, chickens and pigs, and every building on the property built by my grandfather's own hands. The house, the farm, the outbuildings — all of it.

When I was little, it all seemed effortless. It wasn't until much later — honestly, not until right now, writing this — that I understood what an absolutely heroic effort it took to keep all of that going.

My grandmother was immensely kind and joyful. She was up before dawn every single day and just — did it. Two full meals cooked from scratch, no recipes, laid out on tables that felt abundant in a way I've never forgotten. She grew much of what she cooked, harvested it, preserved it, and filled her shelves with food she had made from the ground up. Watching her, I remember feeling like I was witnessing something close to magic. She was up before dawn and just did it. Writing this made me realize how much of that is ALSO part of my DNA.

Every event I produce, every menu I build, every table I set — I'm chasing that feeling. The farm-to-table philosophy that drives Roux Catering isn't a trend I adopted. It's something I grew up inside of, without even knowing it was shaping me .

"This post grew out of an interview I did with Nashville Voyager — you can read the full conversation here.