Rainbow chard, strawberries, and this protruding yellow vegetable… or fruit… I can’t tell where Chef Tea’s hands are guiding us but with each glance, I see something I hadn’t seen before. A brighter expanse than any grocery store I’d ever been in.



Chef Tea - dripped in that VIJN black/brown two-toned JACKET - brought us to the Santa Monica Farmer’s Market a few weeks back.
Often big gaps between my farmer’s market visits but every time I pull up, I’m grateful for it. Weaving through people, dodging strollers and overly huge dogs. I leave with random things like a bag of carrots still covered in the soil it was picked from.
But this visit was different.
The Market felt sacred with Chef Tea. A sprawling, plus-sign shaped mosaic of 60+ farmers from around Southern California. I got to see it from an artist’s point of view and with every step and touch, I felt like I was being reintroduced to food.
So it's looking into the future and closing my eyes and saying what black and brown people should be eating, and that's that's what I produce.
And if I don't, it haunts me.
Born and raised in Los Angeles, Chef Tea tells multi-sensory stories through cuisine. Taste intentionally crafted with the best in-season ingredients we can get in LA.
I met Chef a month after we debuted the Nest in September. It was a warm fall day at SPACE(S), the iconic home of Bricks & Wood in Mid-City, LA.
Chef’s culinary collective Little Los Angeles had the back patio booming with this fragrance of allspice. The grill was turnt, so I found my feet, nose, and hands on Sherlock Holmes, damn near tweaking for a taste of the best jerk chicken in the city.
On the second of four firings, I got a bite… My eyes were closed for thyme… only opening as I rolled on the ground, breathing deeply and grunting at the vibrant flavors I’d only tasted on a 2017 trip to Negril, Jamaica.
That was probably the best introduction I’ve ever had with anyone.
Since that day, we’ve built our friendship and creative partnership that keeps challenging how I see food, seasonality, and the act of bringing people together.
Tea’s work is about time, touch, and trust in what the Earth is offering right now. While roaming the Santa Monica Farmer’s Market, we have a conversation about what it means to work in season and just how she’s learned (and still learning) to listen:
Walking and Talking
Cherif: How or when did you fall in love with cooking?
Tea: Hmm. I feel like cooking has followed me my whole life. Almost like a boogeyman. And then when I looked in the closet, it was actually not a closet—it was the kitchen.
And so from there, I just kept following it back, and it's gotten me here. I’m allowing it to keep unveiling itself to me. I’m finding myself more and more through the cuisine I decide to put on the table, which is an Afro-futurist cuisine.
It’s really leaning into my foresight as a human being and including that into my career path—which is also tied into my purpose.
It’s looking into the future and closing my eyes and saying what Black and Brown people should be eating. And if I don’t cook it… it haunts me.
C: When do you stop shopping and start cooking in your head?
T: The moment I touch the actual produce I’ll be working with. From there I can determine how ripe it is, what texture it has, how long I want to cook it, what kind of fat I’ll use. It all starts in the hand.
C: What’s a texture you avoid, even when the flavor is perfect?
T: I try to avoid anything overripe, unless I’m planning to make it into a sauce or puree. Then I can highlight the flavor while smoothing out the texture. But yeah, texture’s got to be right.
C: What’s the hardest ingredient to shop for?
T: Watermelon. People swear there are tricks, but there’s no trick. You just get lucky or you don’t. Or it’s in season or it’s not. Laughs
On Seasonality, Purpose, and Limitation
C: Talk to me more about what’s in season now (late May)?
T: Right now in California? Citrus looks beautiful. Cherries are sweet. Strawberries are still really nice. So that’s what I’d suggest people lean toward at the market—berries, broccolini, cauliflower, cherries, citrus, grapefruit, lemons, navel oranges, tangerines…
C: Naval oranges the ones that look like nipples?
T: Laughs… Yes, Cherif.
C: What does “farm to table” mean to you?
T: It means being intimate with what the Earth is producing right now—and being able to showcase that. It’s a partnership. When I shop at the farmers market, it’s a conversation I’m having. Then I translate it through cooking. Then it lands on the table.
I had a thought here, maybe you can answer it too:
What am I forcing into my routine that isn’t in season?
C: Why accept the limitations of seasonality?
T: It’s inconvenient, yes. But it’s also a commitment. Convenience has spoiled us. Grocery stores have convinced us that we can have anything year-round—and that’s just not true.
We’re forcing ingredients to exist out of rhythm. And you can taste that. When you work in season, you don’t have to manipulate much. The Earth already did the work.
C: Tell me more about that—working in partnership with the Earth.
T: It’s listening to what the Earth is giving, and following that. Not forcing things into being. There’s already abundance. We just have to highlight it, not control it.
The Process
C: What steps do you go through to do your work correctly?
T: Research…. reading….really geeking out. If I want to add lemon to a dish, I might research five kinds of lemons. I’ll try each one until I find the one that resonates most with what I’m cooking. That curiosity is part of the love.
What I Took Home
Back in the whip, I filled up the passenger seat with different citrus and this one vegetable I still can’t name.
More importantly, Chef Tea left me with a deeper sense of the value of rhythm. Coming from corporate marketing, with a drive to build VIJN as this design company obsessed with real life, I find myself forcing completion.
To strive, to execute ideas, often at friction with the seasons.
Chef Tea’s approach dusted off my why.
Our conversation reflects the intentionality I want to be present in every piece of writing, every object we design, and certainly every time we bring people together.
With the patience and diligence of tracking seasonality, knowing what the Earth, my community, and my own soul need, our work at VIJN, in partnership with the greats like Chef Tea and Little Los Angeles will speak on its own time.
As we grow host more and create more via TACTILE, this is the clarity I want to lead with. And Chef just thought I just wanted to spy on where she gets her ingredients !
Thank you, Chef Tea.
Coming Soon
We’ll be releasing debuting a dining series with Chef Tea later this year. If you're curious about joining—or just want more stories—subscribe and stay close.