My journey into the world of F&B is a far less romantic tale than so many of my industry colleagues. The love letter that I will one day write to my profession won’t be dedicated to the smells coming from my grandmother’s kitchen, nor to the one great chef whose delicate sauce changed my worldview. Rather, my love letter will be to an industry that has broken me down and saved my life more times than I can count.
I grew up mostly with my mum in Washington D.C., but spent a lot of time getting to know the ins and outs of the Greyhound bus stations between Union Station (in southeast D.C.) and Richmond, Virginia where my dad lived. Those big stations were filled with so many food smells it would make your head spin. Fried chicken, catfish, ribs, empanadas, curries, African stews, all of it. Greyhound stations and coaches are hubs of diversity, filled with people on their way to somewhere else.
My mom and I had a tradition of mix-and-matching a plate of Chinese noodles with a mango lassi from the Indian joint in the Union Station bus hall every two weeks when I would make the trip to my dad’s house. Those trips may very well have been the beginning of my love for food, culture and all the people in between.
Both my mum and my dad were, and still are, excellent cooks. We didn’t have a whole lot of cash, but I never missed a meal and they each had a knack for making those meals feel decadent. My father is a beautiful ceramicist. Making pottery has been both his livelihood and his lifeline since forever. Some of my earliest memories are of watching him plate not-so-fancy meals onto his very fancy platters. Whether he meant to or not, he taught me the importance of presentation. Perception is reality for so many of us.
Torched calamari smoked miso pomelo from Camille's restaurant Brut!
My mom taught me how to be chic, how to be French, how to drink a glass of wine without lowering your eyes while chatting for hours about the world we live in. She taught me how to be passionate and how to be sharp. She was a single mother who worked three jobs; by example, she showed me how to be resilient and the importance of making sacrifices for the sake of love and self -expression.
Grower Champagnes (wines from Champagne, France that are made and bottled by the same person who grew the grapes), available at Camille's restaurant Brut!
My parents were my greatest teachers, each with a unique voice that shared life lessons that have carried me through to where I am now: a young female restaurateur in a foreign country, trying my best to navigate this landscape in the midst of a pandemic.
Although their worlds were wildly different, they converged to lead me to mine and inspired me to be a unique voice in this industry. Having lived through the equivalent “culinary Baghdad” working in Michelin kitchens, to being dismissed as a “woman in wine” for many years in Hong Kong, I built Brut, Pondi, Fat Chad’s and Crushed Wines to exist as a safe space for myself and my community, most recently launching Side Note Hospitality Group – an overarching umbrella for all my ventures. Alongside my perfectly imperfect business partner George Kwok, we’ve created something truly unique to us and to the voices within our team.
Camille Glass, the co-founder and co-owner of Brut!, Pondi, Crushed and Fat Chad's
Our restaurants are, in so many ways, tangible representations of the fights won and lost over the years and of all of the love that’s been felt in between. Our venues, just like those old Greyhound terminals, are places which allow our guests to be transported away all the while observing the tastes, smells and cultures that make Hong Kong our home.
Editor
Camille Glass
