“We found the building before we knew what we were going to do in it.” Andrea Tree and Nate Silverstein like to tell the story that way, because it captures how Taverna came to life in Salt Lake City’s Marmalade neighborhood. They wanted a place where their children could actually be present, where families could gather, and where a well-made cocktail and a great slice of pizza could exist in the same room without anyone feeling shut out. When a motorcycle shop close to home appeared with a hand painted “For Rent” sign and a phone number scrawled across the fence, they called, stepped inside, and started imagining what it could become.

“I would have dreams about food as a young boy.” Ali Sabbah was born in Lebanon, and when he talks about the country of his childhood, his voice still carries the tenderness of what it was before everything changed. “It was lovely… before the Civil War. It was a beautiful place.” He loved to read and he loved to draw. He was not a sports kid. He was the boy who noticed details, who could lose himself in a page or a sketch, and who was quietly absorbing tastes and aromas that would stay with him across continents, as he continued to imagine opening Mazza Middle Eastern Cuisine.

“Everybody thinks they know what a pretzel is. We are here to change that." Drew Sparks's words capture both the confidence and the leap behind Dangerous Pretzel Co., the downtown Salt Lake City shop he owns with his wife, Lindsay Sparks. They admitted, "It felt a little crazy at first,” but what began as an ambitious pivot from tech into food has become a bold addition to the city’s growing culinary scene - one built on conviction, curiosity, and a shared desire to create something side by side.

“Making business work, in a way where it can impact people’s lives, is what drives me every day.” For Jorge Brios, the general manager at Rouser, hospitality does not begin when a guest is seated. It starts much earlier, shaped by place and rhythm, by observation and instinct.

“We wanted to build a place where people felt comfortable coming in, even if they did not know exactly what they were getting,” Mike Blocher says. “The idea was always to take care of people and let the food speak.” Table X did not appear overnight. It grew slowly and deliberately, shaped by years of work and a belief that food could be thoughtful without being intimidating. From the beginning, it was built on trust: trust between three chefs who believed in one another, trust in cooking seasonally and locally, and trust that guests would be willing to follow them on a culinary journey.

“I would like to say it is a temple to food.” Omar Abou-Ismail says it simply, but everything about Rawtopia Living Cuisine and Beyond is built to support that one idea - a space that nourishes. Not only through what is presented on the table, but through what the food represents to him, and why this restaurant has become his life’s work.

“I was born in Georgia but came here when I was two. So, this is all I know.” John Feldman’s parents were pulled west by the Olympics and became anchored, unexpectedly, by the mountains. “We came here in 2000. My dad has a PhD in medicinal chemistry. He worked for the Olympics in their drug wing, going from Atlanta for the summer games to Utah for the winter games.”

“If you could do anything, what would you do?” This was the question posed to Heather Santi years ago, and her answer was quite simple. “Breakfast.” Long before Eggs in the City became a Salt Lake City institution, she knew this was her favorite meal of the day and one she wanted to share with others. It was not about food trends or culinary ego. It was about people.

"For me, creating new crepes is something that makes me happy. We are here on this planet to create.” At Dali Crepes, the business that carries his nickname, Dalibor “Dali” Blazic has built a life around that belief, one delicate layer of batter at a time.

“Food is my language. I bring my spices from Peru, I cook with my heart, and I believe everything will turn out well.” Rubi’s Peruvian Taste is Rubi Gutierrez’s life’s work and love letter to two homes. She grew up in Lima as the youngest of six, the daughter who stayed closest to her mother and the one who loved the kitchen most. Her mother ran a small restaurant three blocks from their house, and by eight years old Rubi was chopping onions and tomatoes, learning that the pot only tastes right when the cook cares.

“Back in seventh grade, I told the teacher I was going to be either a Marine Corps scout sniper or a bartender.” Rob Dutton grinned when he said it, sitting inside Lucky 13. This is the bar he has owned since 2009, the bar people travel hours for, the bar with walls covered in awards and firefighter patches and stories. It is not lost on him that the kid who made that prediction had no idea what was coming: the moves, the upheavals, the loneliness, the grit, and ultimately the community he would build in a tight, lively room a stone’s throw from the ballpark.

“We’re all in the Soup Kitchen together. My kids, my family, my customers, we feed one another, not just with food but with heart. This isn’t just soup. It’s love, handmade every day.” Roberta “Robi” Sasse has kept the heart of the fifty-two-year-old Soup Kitchen beating through faith, handmade soup, and community, and now she is determined to make it her own.

“It is my own little playground with really good pizza.” Stacy House grew up just south of Chicago in Coal City, a small town where pizza ruled the restaurant scene. “The only restaurant, to be honest, that I ever wanted to own was a pizza place,” she said. “Because I grew up south of Chicago, and I have a very specific pizza type and flavor that I love, and I’ve had a very hard time finding it in the West.” That dream finally became a reality with Millcreek Pizza House, the restaurant she and her family opened in 2024.

“I’m born in Vietnam, but I always worked in Japanese restaurants here in Utah.” Ken Cuong Gip’s story begins in Ho Chi Minh City, in a family that ran an ice cream shop. He remembers the rhythm of school days, soccer after class, and the occasional help at the shop packing kilos of ice cream for street sellers and loving the daring flavor of durian, a fruit native to Southeast Asia. At home, he cooked now and then with his mom and great-grandmother, and he taught himself fried rice just because he loved it. That simple plate became his first signature dish on his way to becoming the chef and owner behind the Japanese restaurant, Shinobi Sushi Bar & Grill.

"You can count on change.” This is a line that Frank Granato's father, Sam, repeated often as Frank was growing up. And to this day, he has lived it. He began learning the ropes as a child and was instrumental in steering a seventy-eight-year-old family name through warehouses, delis, airports, and food halls. He grasped the importance of the Granato legacy and has been determined to keep the business moving forward - from generation to generation.

“I ask myself this a thousand times a day - am I acting in good faith? Am I being honest, empathetic, forthright, grateful? That’s the rudder I steer my life with now, and it’s how we run our business too.” Jared Neiswender, owner of MOZZ, grew up in the suburbs outside Philadelphia. It is an area where New York commuters met hometown tradition, and where, at fourteen, he got his first job in a restaurant. “I’ve worked in restaurants my whole life,” he said, “but I never imagined they would become my path forward.”

“I didn’t just get into cooking, I chose it. And then, somehow, I feel like it chose me.” Kyle Williams’s journey to opening Marcato Kitchen has been anything but conventional. Raised in Southern California in a family that loved to cook, Kyle never felt drawn to the kitchen himself. “I liked to eat, that’s for sure, but cooking felt like work, and I didn’t want to work.”

“I grew up in a trailer without electricity or water, under a tarp roof. We did not have much, but I had loving parents who worked so hard, and we always sat down for dinner together. That meant everything to me.” Those humble beginnings shaped Andrew Corrao, chef and owner of Forty Three Bakery, a space he has built with equal parts grit and heart.

“We want the people who come in here to feel like family.” Todd Holsten grew up on the east side of Salt Lake City, spending much of his childhood in the mountains. Skiing, biking, climbing - if it was outdoors, he was in his element. After high school, he worked a string of odd jobs before finding his career home at Delta Air Lines in 1996. Nearly thirty years later, he is still there, now part of the aircraft movement team, enjoying the job’s stability and the flight benefits that have allowed him, his wife, and their family to travel the world. Together with his wife, Aranya, he now owns Aranya Thai Kitchen, a warmly inviting spot known for fresh, meticulously prepared Thai dishes that reflect her passion for getting everything just right.

“This was always the goal, owning our own place,” said Andrew Fuller. “I just had to be patient enough to wait for the right moment.” For Andrew Fuller and his wife, Angelena, that moment arrived in February 2019 with the opening of Oquirrh, a refined yet welcoming American restaurant nestled in downtown Salt Lake City. At once personal and quietly romantic, Oquirrh reflects their shared story: a love for good food, deep respect for craft, and an unshakable partnership that spans both life and work.