From a 6-by-6-foot plywood shack to a gumbo truck serving the Last Frontier.
Long before there was a B Street Gumbo food truck, there was a 6-by-6-foot plywood shack, an Alaskan winter, and a mother who loved feeding people.
My love for cooking began with my mom, Tessie. She was an incredible home cook who believed food was meant to be shared. Her first food setup was a tiny plywood shack where she sold homemade lumpia, even through Alaska’s freezing temperatures.
And I was right there with her.
As a kid, I baked cookies to sell alongside her. I thought I was simply helping my mom, but looking back, she was teaching me about cooking, hard work, serving people, and building something of your own.
Where It All Started
“Food was always at the center of our family.”
Filipino traditions. Southern cooking. Family, friends, laughter, and a whole lot of love.
A Dream That Stuck With Me
Over the years, my mom developed a passion for Cajun/ southern food and dreamed of opening a restaurant called Tessie’s Cajun kitchen. She never got the chance to see that dream become a reality, but her love of cooking never left me.
Years later, Cajun/ southern food became a staple in my own home. Friends and family would gather around the pot, eat, laugh, and spend time together, just like they had in my mom’s kitchen.
Perfecting the Pot
Over the years, I kept working on my gumbo. I experimented, adjusted, tasted, and refined it until I developed a flavor that felt distinctly my own.
“What really stayed with me wasn’t just the receipt. It was seeing people’s faces when they took that first bite.”
There was something special about watching people I cared about gather around something I had created and genuinely enjoy it. Eventually, I knew I wanted to share that experience with more than just the people gathered around my kitchen.
That feeling became B Street Gumbo.
What started generations ago around family, friends, and home-cooked food now continues every time someone walks up to our window and orders a bowl.
From the Kitchen to the Window
In many ways, this isn’t just my story. It’s the continuation of hers. From my mom’s little plywood shack to a gumbo truck serving the Last Frontier, the setting has changed but the reason behind it hasn’t.
And around here, there’s always room for one more at the table.
