Last spring, Alain Joseph was furloughed from his job at Mercato, a Spanish-inspired food hall created by Jose Andres at New York City’s Hudson Yards. Although he was able to return a couple of months later, there was a sharp decline in business in this locale, which is traditionally a tourist destination, and he was soon told to stay home. Out of a job with no money coming in, he was forced to move in with his dad, splitting groceries. So Joseph spent his time doing what he was trained to do: he cooked every day.
“I started posting photos of the meals I was making and sent them to friends and family,” he said. “It was my way of checking in to make sure they were doing okay during the pandemic,” he said. “People started telling me ‘this looks amazing,’ so I posted the pictures on Instagram and Facebook, too.” By July, Joseph’s meal service was open for business—on Instagram.
Thousands of restaurant and catering chefs, managers and servers were laid off in 2020 due to pandemic shutdowns or permanent closures. Finding themselves at home and restless, they kept on cooking in their own kitchens, just like most housebound consumers. But there was a difference—these were skilled professionals who had their finger on the pulse of what people like to eat. And they had a feeling that not every home cook wanted to prepare dinner or bake treats day after day while sheltering in place.
That feeling panned out for Joseph. He named his new venture “Twenty Orders” because that was the daily limit that he felt he could cook, sell and often, deliver, without taxing his kitchen or his stamina.
“All I had at home were a few small frypans,” he said. “I had to take time to equip so I could make food in greater quantities. Plus, I needed to establish safety and sanitation protocols.”
By June, he figured he was ready.
Photo courtesy of Alain Joseph
Crafting the menu
Joseph aims for five or so options on his daily multicourse menu. He personally loves soup, so he offers one or two a day; gumbo is a particular favorite. Cajun and Creole flavors shine through in some of his seafood and poultry entrees as well. Shrimp Etoufee and Shrimp and Grits are specialties, along with global-inspired dishes such as Duck Confit and Osso Buco. A la carte prices range from $3 to $20 per item.
The first orders came in through DMs on Instagram, but Joseph subsequently created an order form. “When customers place an order with me, I contact them for payment. That develops a symbiotic relationship between us—it eliminates the divide between the chef and the person eating their food and creates more loyalty,” he said.
In his restaurant experience, Joseph often experienced a disconnect with his customers, but now he makes an effort to reach out to them for feedback. Some of that feedback benefits the menu, he said. For example, he got requests for vegan dishes and added some options.
Photo courtesy of Twenty Orders
Thomas Boyce, a former chef de cuisine at Nike headquarters in Portland, Ore, also appreciates the professional and personal rewards his Instagram business provides. Running The Lasagna Project from his home kitchen offers more flexibility, more time with his three kids and more immediate positive feedback from customers, he said.
“I was furloughed from my ‘safe corporate job’ and found myself at home scrolling through Instagram and cookbooks,” he said. “I saw someone offering quiche, and another charcuterie plates. Then I found a chef’s recipe for Lasagna Bolognese in a cookbook and decided to cook a few batches, post photos on Instagram and see what happened.”
The first week he posted in August, 12 people bought a pan of lasagna, and the next week, 12 more. Word spread and soon he was selling out 12 hours after posting. Boyce posts one new flavor a week and sells a pan of lasagna for $40; each serves three to four people. Right now, customers pay through Venmo, but Boyce intends to set up a website and start accepting credit cards.
“It went from being a goof to a potentially better moneymaker that my chef job, and I’m working from home,” he said. “I can do this with very little overhead.”
Boyce already had a pasta machine for rolling out the noodles—no packaged pasta here—and he had to add another fridge, which sits in his dining room. He also is having his home kitchen certified for food preparation—a requirement in some cities and states.
Photo courtesy of Lasagna Project
During the pandemic, health departments were not as strict about enforcing certification and licensing requirements for home food businesses. That is subject to change post-Covid.
Sourcing and other logistics
At first, Boyce was purchasing 11-pound bags of flour for the pasta, and each lasted about two weeks. Now he sources 25-pound bags of Italian double zero flour and they’re gone in a week, he said. He works with a wholesale purveyor to buy the flour and other ingredients, picking up supplies once or twice a week.
Joseph said that sourcing alone takes half a day each week. He buys seafood and meat from Baldor, a foodservice distributor, shops the Farmers Markets for produce and Asian markets for global ingredients.
Joy Cho, a former pastry cook at Gramercy Tavern, started Gem Cakes out of her Brooklyn, N.Y. apartment in January of this year. The baking ingredients required for her mini Bundt-shaped cakes are pretty accessible—even the characteristic sweet rice flour that gives the cakes their unique texture. “I make small purchases at a local supermarket and larger, bulk buys from Costco,” she said.
Once Cho perfected her recipe—which took several iterations—she decided to focus on this one product that has a lot of variations. “It streamlines my work process and inventory,” she said. It minimizes equipment too—essential when you work out of a small apartment kitchen.
Cho added a mobile kitchen island to expand her counter space and a table top for glazing the baked cakes. Friday and Saturday are baking days, after which she takes stock of inventory. Thursdays are spent folding boxes and making glazes. Cho sells 60 to 75 boxes a week at $20 per box of six.
Photo courtesy of Gem Cakes
Mary Eder McClure is still employed as a pastry chef at Galit in Chicago, but her husband, Javier Garcia, was laid off as a long-time server at Topolobompo, Rick Bayless’ high-end Mexican restaurant. The family’s income was cut in half and the couple has three children to support.
“He got a part-time job running auto parts but felt very uncomfortable, exhausted and unfulfilled,” said McClure. “A farmer making a delivery to Galit offered me free pig heads and my husband said he could use them to make a great pozole.”
Over the summer, he got to work making stock from the heads and the couple ordered pork and other ingredients from the suppliers they knew in the restaurant community. McClure posted photos of the pozole on Instagram and Facebook groups and Limon y Sal was born.
“People shared my stories, and the comments and interest generated business,”said McClure.
McClure bought a chest freezer and plastic containers once the orders started coming in. “My husband is the stock master and cuts all the veggies and makes the tostadas,” she said. “I do most of the cooking on Monday, my day off.” An order of pozole with a garnish kit sells for $16, with several variations now available, including a vegan version made with jackfruit. Ever the pastry chef, McClure also offers desserts, such as a dairy-free Arroz con Leche, on the menu. One-third of customers are return business.
Getting out the goods
Cho’s customers order on Instagram and pick up outside her apartment building. “People in my neighborhood are my focus,” she said. “I was nervous I would lose orders because I didn’t deliver to Manhattan, but so far, this cadence is working for me.”
Delivery does add time and complexity to the process, as Joseph found. He started out personally delivering meals at no charge to all five boroughs in New York City. When Twenty Orders took off, he brought on a driver last fall and charges a fee for deliveries outside the city.
Boyce delivers his lasagnas either unbaked or fully-baked, placing them in hot boxes while he drives to customers for dropoffs. He limits his orders to metro-Portland, and has another person help with the deliveries.
“I limit deliveries to three days a week,” he said. “I’m still trying to find that magic number where it’s still fun and not a burden. Making the lasagnas is very time-consuming.”
McClure’s husband makes the deliveries for Limon y Sal, limiting orders to the Chicago area, and they don’t charge a fee. “But people have been very generous tipping,” she said.
Photos courtesy of Limon y Sal
Next steps
Limon y Sal takes in about $1,000 a week, making about $800 in profit after ingredient costs are deducted. The couple works hard, but doesn’t feel overworked “because it’s our heart’s desire,” said McClure. “My husband’s mood has greatly improved and he feels way more fulfilled than he did as a server. It took a pandemic for us to start a business but I think we’ll continue.”
Boyce admitted “I’m thinking of next steps. I can’t make lasagnas out of my house forever.” Branching out to the grocery segment is one idea he’s researching; returning to a full time chef’s position is not in the cards right now.
“I like this quality of life,” Boyce said,
Cho also doubts she’ll return to a restaurant kitchen. “I miss the community aspect of restaurants and this business can be lonely at times, but I have ownership of the concept,” she said.
She would like to find a business partner who is good at logistics and possibly launch a brick-and-mortar cafe. “That dream is not as far off as I once thought,” Cho said. “I think it will come sooner rather than later.”
Joseph believes that Twenty Orders has potential beyond the pandemic, and he intends to keep at it—maybe expanding the business with partners, he said.
“I considered having my own restaurant for several years, but there are barriers to starting one as a chef of color,” he said. “I couldn’t raise the money myself and now I see that there are major flaws with the way the restaurant world was functioning on 8% margins.”
That has to change for Joseph to consider that route again.