A Love Letter to Restaurants
As I pen this love letter to restaurants at the close of the year, I find myself deeply grateful for how profoundly the hospitality industry has touched my life. I reflect on the warmth, passion, and creativity of my hospitality clients, the milestones celebrated around a dinner table, and the relationships sparked and deepened over a glass of wine or a cup of coffee. This love letter is a gesture of gratitude as I wrap up two years at Legal with Mayan.
Hospitality flows through my veins. Growing up, my family shared stories about my grandfather, a leather craftsman and restaurant owner. As a refugee from Morocco, my grandfather longed to recreate the warm, close-knit community he had left behind—a place where people gathered around tables to share sweet mint tea, delicious food, and the occasional cigar. His modest restaurant, Nurit—meaning “little light”—certainly brightened the days of all who visited. His restaurant left an indelible mark. Years later, he named one of his daughter’s Nurit. A consummate chef herself, she continues tradition by hosting holiday feasts and opening her home to family and friends, near and far.
Growing up in Sydney, I was blessed to be surrounded by the warmth of a large Moroccan family. Weekly dinners were so much more than just good home-cooked food—they were a time to recount the week’s highlights with loved ones and guests, bask in each other’s company, and retell cherished family lore. These gatherings taught me, from an early age, the power food holds in bringing people together, transcending language and culture.
As a teenager, Sydney’s vibrant restaurant scene revealed to me the magic of hospitality. Places like North Bondi Italian became cherished traditions where laughter, levity, and long lunches marked the end of a week. Iconic venues like the Ivy, Icebergs, and Gertrude & Alice deepened my admiration for the creatives who pour their hearts into crafting spaces that bring joy and belonging to others.
Though I still love Sydney, a fun, breezy, and picturesque city, I yearned for more. Memories of my late Uncle Mati inspired my move to the Big Apple. My mother’s older brother had built a successful career as a big-hearted restaurateur, running cheerful pizzerias in Times Square that welcomed tourists and nourished locals alike. “New York City is the soul of the world,” my grandfather would often say. For me, NYC’s gravitational pull was impossible to resist. As a 30-year-old who was orbiting the hospitality world, it was New York or nowhere.
The move wasn’t easy at first. Those early months were a blend of euphoria, occasional pangs of solitude, and a waft of uncertainty about my future. But comfort was always found in the city’s vibrant hospitality scene, from cozy coffee shops like Devoción to iconic establishments like Cocotte, Dante, Raoul’s and Hasalon. My usual spot to ponder and dream was Lelabar with a glass of jammy red in hand. In fact, one of my proudest accomplishments in those days was earning the rarified “Lela Friend” status from the staff—a testament to both their kindness and my loyalty.
Those early days in Manhattan were some of the most challenging yet rewarding. I pounded the pavement—calloused feet aching—searching for that elusive first foothold in the city I dreamed of calling home. Days spent interviewing blurred into nights celebrating small victories at Balaboosta, Flex Mussels and Mercado Little Spain. It was a cycle of persistence, soothed by the comfort of a good meal and the warmth that restaurants so effortlessly serve up.
I’ll never forget one night a friend welcomed me to the city with bulging bags of Mission Chinese takeout. At the time, I barely knew enough people to share it with, but it was such a quintessential New York gesture—overflowing generosity in a city that can often feel overwhelming. Sitting on the floor of my downtown studio in New York City with my cousins, enjoying dim sum and Champagne, I knew I had found my home.
My dream of becoming a hospitality lawyer had roots long before New York. As a paralegal in Sydney, I imagined a career where my love for restaurants, real estate and corporate law could intertwine. It seemed like a lofty vision then. Two years ago, that vision came to life when I launched Legal with Mayan. The mission was simple yet profound: to support restaurateurs, chefs, and visionaries who pour their hearts into creating spaces where memories are made and friendships blossom. The hospitality community had given me so much, and I was determined to give back.
One of my first hospitality deals remains etched in my memory: negotiating the future home of an intimate and inviting French restaurant on the Upper East Side, dreamed up by two charismatic brothers honoring their late mother, Fifi. It was my first month practicing law in New York — and this was my shot to make a good first impression. Sitting across from seasoned New York lawyers, flashbacks from my Big Law days abound, I held my ground and negotiated fiercely that day. Two years later... On the eve of December 4, 2024, Chez Fifi opened its doors. Walking through the main entrance, I welled up with tears knowing that those two brothers pulled the impossible off. Stepping into Chez Fifi whisks you away to Paris while grounding you in the warmth and familiarity of a childhood home lovingly tended by a mother who embodied joie de vivre. It is one of the most gratifying moments of my career.
The journey hasn’t been without its challenges. As a newcomer to New York City, I faced skepticism and moments of self-doubt. Yet, along the way, friends, clients, and mentors believed in me, opening doors to exciting opportunities. None stand out more vividly than Peter and Téa, the visionary duo behind Immigrant Food, a mission-driven hospitality group that celebrates the contributions of immigrants through an eclectic and delicious array of cuisine. We call it gastroadvocacy! And, as a new immigrant to America myself, it was so poetic that Téa and Peter took a chance on me on the very first day I ventured out on my own. Each time they open a new restaurant, my heart swells with pride, knowing that their belief in me mirrors the values their venues embody: opportunity, social impact, and a deep appreciation for the immigrant story.
Some of the most profound moments of my life—both personal and professional—have happened around tables filled with laughter, gratitude, and the sense of belonging. Supporting clients who redefine dining, bring people together, or champion meaningful societal causes has been an immense privilege. Whether supporting Michelin-starred chefs or cheering on first-time restaurateurs, I’m continually inspired by their passion and grit.
This is my love letter—a heartfelt reflection of how the hospitality world has opened its doors to me, and in return, I open my heart to its people, its stories, and its unwavering pursuit of connection.
