Scratch

Sam Jen
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Scratch is a Canadian podcast about the people behind the plate - the chefs and restaurateurs who built their businesses, lives, and communities through food. From immigrants finding home in a new country to locals turning cafés into community hubs, these are stories of hustle, resilience, and heart. Food isn’t just about what’s on the table - it’s about connection, belonging, and building something meaningful from scratch.

  1. 1D AGO

    From baking for fun: Andrea’s Cookies

    Andrea Christensen didn’t set out to build a cookie business - it found her. When the pandemic hit, Andrea suddenly had time. What started as baking for fun (something she’d always loved) quickly became an obsession with one goal: creating the perfect soft-baked cookie. As a self-taught baker with a science-minded approach, she leaned into experimentation, testing, and refining until every detail felt right. She began sharing her cookies on Instagram with friends and family. Then strangers started asking for them. Within months, she launched a website  and what had once been a hobby quietly turned into something much bigger. The process wasn’t simple. It took two years to develop her recipes at home, and moving into a commercial kitchen meant starting over again. There’s no secret ingredient - just high-quality components, technique, and an almost obsessive level of intention. Andrea won’t put anything out into the world unless she truly loves it. That same mindset shaped her business. A rotating menu came from necessity - simplifying operations, reducing waste, and creating excitement week to week. What began as a solo operation has grown into a team of nearly 60 people, multiple locations, and a community that shows up not just for cookies, but for the experience around them. Andrea shares what it means to build something from instinct, how flavour development became one of her favourite parts of the process, and why learning to let go as a leader might be the hardest step yet. This is a story about patience, precision, and finding your path - even if it wasn’t the one you planned. Follow the podcast on Instagram and TikTok Follow Sam Jen on Instagram

    34 min

  2. MAR 25

    From carrying on a legacy: Golden Turtle

    Not only is Golden Turtle one of Toronto’s oldest Vietnamese restaurants, it’s a story that stretches across continents, generations, and the quiet work of keeping something meaningful alive. For Linda Nguyen, the restaurant was part of her childhood long before it became her responsibility. Her earliest memories are behind the counter: folding napkins, serving customers, and watching her parents run a place that taught her the meaning of hard work, teamwork, and care. Family, she learned early, wasn’t just the people you lived with. It was also the people you worked beside every day. Her parents came to Canada carrying their own histories of survival and resilience. Born in a Malaysian refugee camp during the Vietnam War, Linda grew up understanding that losing track of family could mean losing track of yourself. Food became the thread that held everything together. Years later, despite studying retail management and cognitive science and never imagining herself in the restaurant industry, Linda realized the restaurant meant more than her original career path. Five years ago, she and her brother Michael stepped in to carry the legacy forward - preserving the same pho recipe that passed from her grandmother to her mother, and now to her. In this episode, Linda reflects on leadership, family, and what it means to carry a legacy responsibly - nurturing her team, welcoming new neighbours on Ossington, and showing her daughter that leadership rooted in care is something to be proud of. Follow the podcast on Instagram and TikTokFollow Sam Jen on Instagram

    45 min

  3. MAR 18

    From celebrating individuality: Lake Inez

    Lake Inez was never meant to be static. When Zac Schwartz met Dennis Kimeda and Patrick Ciappara, he wasn’t planning on becoming a restaurateur. He was paying his way through university. He wasn’t a lifer in the industry. But when Dennis - who had already built The Wren - asked him to partner on a new venture, Zac made a choice that would change everything: he gave every penny he had to something that didn’t exist yet. From the very first night Lake Inez opened, Zac felt something different. When he bent down to pick up a napkin off the floor, he realized he wasn’t stepping into someone else’s concept - he owned it. Every decision. Every risk. Every success. Every failure. Named after a small lake Zac’s grandparents once bought in Michigan - a sacred place rooted in love - Lake Inez became a space built not around culinary pedigree, but around creative permission. None of the three owners were chefs, but they believed there had to be someone out there waiting for carte blanche. Enter Robbie Hojilla, a second-generation Filipino chef trained in high-end European kitchens, who was given full freedom to cook food closest to him. That philosophy stuck. Today, Lake Inez is less about continuity and more about evolution. Menus shift. Dishes come and go. Fermentation programs emerge. Darlings get killed. The constant isn’t the food, it’s the culture. A place where individuality is celebrated, neighbourhood energy is amplified, and creative freedom is the thread that binds it all together. This is a story about risk, ownership, reciprocal gratitude, and believing that if your sensibilities change, your output should too. Follow the podcast on Instagram and TikTokFollow Sam Jen on Instagram

    58 min

  4. MAR 11

    From a friendly bond: Good Behaviour

    When COVID threw a wrench into Michael Lam and Eric Chow’s plans at Ascari, they were left with a choice. They could go their separate ways, or they could figure out how to keep working together. What they shared was a mindset, a standard for hospitality, and a deep trust built from long days inside a 140-seat restaurant where nothing worked unless everyone moved in sync. Choosing each other became the starting point. Good Behaviour was the result — not because either of them dreamed of opening an ice cream shop, but because ice cream felt like a way to still connect with people. It was familiar. Comforting. A reward in a moment when good behaviour meant staying home, seeing friends at a distance, and getting through something hard. And despite neither of them having a sweet tooth, ice cream became the vessel for hospitality. But winter was coming and ice cream alone wouldn’t keep their team. At the eleventh hour, sandwiches entered the picture. Three days after the idea surfaced, subs launched and sold out every day for a month. What began as survival quickly became a pillar of the business and a way to keep people employed, motivated, and excited to show up. Michael and Eric talk about building trust with guests, learning systems in real time, and how discipline — especially learning when to say no — became as important as creativity. They share how menus are designed collaboratively, why every new item has to compete with the best seller, and how consistency doesn’t mean boring. Follow the podcast on Instagram and TikTokFollow Sam Jen on Instagram

    56 min

  5. MAR 4

    From the storefront below: Nonna Lia’s

    For Nicolò Marchisio, food has always been the way love shows up. It’s the universal feeling of coming home and being greeted by your nonna — not with questions, but with a list of everything she made just for you. And only later, as an adult, do you realize what that really meant: the shopping trip the day before, the hours spent cooking, the way she never sat down to eat because she was too focused on making sure you were happy. Nonna Lia’s is built on that feeling. Nicolò grew up between Italy and Canada, surrounded by food but never planning to work in it. At 19, he skipped out on an office job, flew to Japan without telling his parents, and was promptly called home by his dad to work a summer at the family clothing store — where a closed-down pub downstairs became an accidental restaurant. Helping design the space and menu changed everything. Years later, knowing how to make tiramisu better than anything else, Nicolò began quietly obsessing over the idea of turning it into a business. The idea sat untouched for four years — until the pandemic forced stillness, experimentation, and a return to what mattered most. What followed was relentless refinement. Learning from his mother. Translating recipes with no measurements into something consistent. Solving for transport, shelf life, and balance. Reworking every component — again and again — until it felt right. Even now, Nicolò says they’re only 90% of where they want to be. In this episode, Nicolò talks about the responsibility of representing Italian food with honesty, why hospitality matters as much as the recipe, how he responds personally to every complaint, and why taking care of people — customers included — is non-negotiable. This is a story about patience, pride, and the kind of love that shows up quietly, every day. Follow the podcast on Instagram and TikTokFollow Sam Jen on Instagram

    39 min

  6. FEB 25

    From a high school friendship: Bar Ape

    Not knowing what success looked like turned out to be the greatest advantage Nick Genova and James Carnevale had. James was already deep in kitchens, drawn to the technical, almost scientific side of gelato. Nick was a freelance videographer and creative jack-of-all-trades, trying to find his footing. When James decided he wanted to make gelato, Nick was simply there — and when nothing else was quite working, he figured: why not? What followed was a partnership built on complementary skills and radical openness. James brought precision, balance, and an obsession with texture. Nick came in as a blank canvas, with no preconceived notions of how a food business should work. James liked that. Nick learned everything by doing, asking questions, and trusting James’ instincts — a dynamic they jokingly compare to Walter White and Jesse Pinkman. They started with almost nothing: a few tools, four or five bars, one soft-serve machine, and a strange little gelato truck that needed explaining. Instagram was still new. Video wasn’t really a thing. So Nick leaned into what he knew — treating their content like tiny TV ads, shot quickly in aprons, full of humour. “Soft serve, undressed” became a defining campaign, positioning Bar Ape as the antithesis of the overly dressed-up soft serve trend. I had the pleasure of sitting down with Nick to talk about betting on himself at a crossroads, turning down his first full-time job, and how not knowing what success looked like allowed them to keep going when others might have quit. He opens up about running a seasonal business that feels like a brand-new shop every summer, the Tetris of operating in an impossibly small space, and why a tiny, committed team beats an army. Follow the podcast on Instagram and TikTok Follow Sam Jen on Instagram

    42 min

  7. FEB 18

    From a dreamer of a dad: Mezes

    Mezes began in 1990 at 404 Danforth, started by a man who had no business opening a restaurant — no formal training, no business plan — just a huge heart and an even bigger dream. Vasha Zindros’ father opened the restaurant as a love letter to his mother and his wife’s family, believing that if he could dream it, he could do it. When he passed suddenly and tragically, Vasha’s mother was left widowed at 37, holding a restaurant she never wanted and all of their savings. She didn’t have many choices, but she made it work. And she did it by leading with love. Vasha grew up on the Danforth, inside that restaurant. Homework during service. Sneaking cherry tomatoes in the back. Learning how to lead from her mother, who showed her that no business book could teach you how to care for people the way love does. If Vasha behaved well, her dad would reward her with a Styrofoam cup of tzatziki from Astoria and a spoon — a treat she’d eat sitting in Withrow Park, the highlight of her week. In January 2020, Vasha took over Mezes and by March, the world shut down. As devastating as the pandemic was, it became the moment that clarified everything for her. She had no reason to believe she could do it, but she knew she could. She signed a lease on a corner her father once pointed to on one of those tzatziki walks, crossed her fingers, and hoped for the best. Today, Mezes is a cornerstone of Greektown — not because it tries to be the destination, but because it insists the Danforth should be. With no reservations, long-standing staff who manage each other, and a culture rooted in open arms, warmth, and trust, Mezes is a place people count on. Families take Christmas photos there. Staff have been there for decades. Customers feel the care no matter who serves them or when they walk in. This episode is about grief, resilience, trust, and what it means to honour a dream that never belonged to one person — but to a family, a team, and a neighbourhood that showed up when it mattered most. Follow the podcast on Instagram and TikTokFollow Sam Jen on Instagram

    1 hr

  8. FEB 11

    From common ground: Conejo Negro

    Creole, Caribbean, and Latin cuisines may look different on the surface, but historically, they’ve always spoken the same language. For Alycia Wahn, Conejo Negro wasn’t about filling a gap in Toronto’s dining scene - it was about bringing together cultures that have long shared roots. Raised cooking Italian food, trained in French technique, and shaped by years spent living and working across the American South, Latin America, and the Caribbean, Alycia’s approach to food has always been layered, intuitive, and deeply personal. Add to that Toronto’s Caribbean influence, a Guyanese husband and business partner, and a Uruguayan collaborator, and Conejo Negro became a natural meeting place. Creole cuisine carries West African, French, and Spanish influence. Caribbean food reflects Guyanese and British roots. Uruguayan cooking draws from Indigenous, Spanish, Italian, and Latin American traditions. The overlap isn’t forced, it’s historical. Conejo Negro came together during the pandemic, after a full year of testing recipes, slow-cooking dishes days in advance, writing lists, and asking one grounding question over and over: does this feel right to all of us? Even the name followed that rule. With just a month to go before opening, the team finally landed on Conejo Negro - a choice rooted in intuition, symbolism, and shared agreement. In this conversation, Alycia talks about learning to cook alongside her mother at age 12, why she doesn’t chase trends or titles, and how “home cooking” can still be deeply refined. She shares what it means to run a happy kitchen — one filled with music, movement, and mutual respect — and reflects on being recognized by Michelin with a Bib Gourmand just 10 months in, an honour she didn’t even know existed. The goal was never accolades. It was always simpler: make good food, take care of people, and let the rest follow. Follow the podcast on Instagram and TikTok Follow Sam Jen on Instagram

    35 min
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About

Scratch is a Canadian podcast about the people behind the plate - the chefs and restaurateurs who built their businesses, lives, and communities through food. From immigrants finding home in a new country to locals turning cafés into community hubs, these are stories of hustle, resilience, and heart. Food isn’t just about what’s on the table - it’s about connection, belonging, and building something meaningful from scratch.

Information

  • Creator
    Sam Jen
  • Years Active
    2K
  • Episodes
    29
  • Rating
    Explicit
  • Copyright
    © Sam Jen
  • Show Website
    Scratch

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