“Food Saves My Life Every Single Day”: Sophia Roe on Finding Family in the Kitchen

Most chefs with awards under their belt—and résumés that include Eleven Madison Park—are quick to let you know exactly who they’ve worked under and where they’ve cooked. That’s the industry norm.

Sophia Roe? She’d rather talk about Florida grapefruits. Or the time she flew across the country with sourdough starter.

It’s not that she doesn’t care about accolades (she’s got plenty, including a James Beard Award). It’s just that she’d much rather go off on a tangent about southern varieties of citrus, the joy of homemade ice cream, or why private chefs documenting themselves on social media kind of misses the point. (“Isn’t private in the name?”)

And that’s what makes Sophia… Sophia.

When we talk, she’s nine months pregnant, perched on a stoop in NYC on her way to an acupuncture appointment. But you wouldn’t know it. Her eyeliner is flawless. Her mind, focused. She doesn’t lead with a title or a name drop. She leads with curiosity, humor, and the kind of warmth that makes you want to stay on the phone just a little longer. It isn’t until the end of the call, when she flips her camera, that I even realize she’s been outside the entire time.

In a way, it feels perfectly fitting to be talking about her journey—through food, toward family, and into motherhood—while she’s literally in motion.

Sophia grew up in foster care. Her mother struggled with addiction. Food wasn’t a creative outlet; it was a necessity. Where some chefs dream of Michelin stars, she dreamed of simply being full.

And while she grew up watching the Food Network, she didn’t necessarily idolize the people on it.

“In order to have heroes you look up to, you have to imagine that you could be them,” she explained. “I never imagined I could be Sara Lee or I never saw anybody that looked like me on camera.”

It was Edna Lewis who first resonated with her, and after that it was simply—whatever job would pay her. She worked front of house, back of house, and everywhere in between.

“Whether it's a restaurant, private chef, food styling, host, broadcast, teleprompter, whatever it is—I've done it,” she laughed. “I think that's what makes my journey really special, I'm not scared of anything and I'll try it all.”

That spirit runs through her work. Whether she’s making edible flowers look ethereal on Instagram or advocating for food access, she’s always straddled the personal and the political. Her early days in kitchens weren’t about glossy aspirations—they were survival.

“Food kind of saves my life every single day,” she said. “I don't really know what I would do without it.”

Her work over the years has spanned restaurants, media, and advocacy. In 2020, she made a cooking show with Vice that earned her an Emmy nomination, making her the first Black woman ever nominated for Outstanding Culinary Host. Two years later, she won a James Beard Award for “Emerging Voice” in broadcast media.

But ask her about those milestones and she’ll probably tell you about something else—like her baby shower, which she says was filled with “chosen family,” or the Thanksgiving she shipped 10 sheet pans and a kitchen scale ahead of time for a “casual” soup and bread night with her fiancé’s giant extended family.

“My favorite thing to do is make food for twenty people—that’s my bread and butter,” she said.

It’s that same energy she brought to her latest project, Signature Dish, a series with Toast where she interviews chefs and restaurant owners around the country—from Harlem to Miami to upstate New York. But this wasn’t about high-gloss food shots or manufactured narratives. This was about the people she’s built community with. Her “food family.”

They talk about the joy and challenges of working in the food industry and what it takes to open a restaurant today.

“None of these people have gone through their journey without having to be like, ‘Oh, this is not working,’” she laughed. “They changed course and hearing how people do that is pretty powerful.”

She lights up when talking about chefs like JJ Johnson or Fariyal Abdullahi—how they stay grounded, bring their full selves to the table, and carry culture into the food they make. She visited Harana Market in upstate New York and called it “the coolest thing ever,” adding:

“I can't think of anything cooler than a Filipino grocery store dropped in the middle of nowhere upstate New York.”

Sophia is deeply curious. She asked me questions during our interview—genuine, thoughtful ones—which feels rare when you’re the one technically doing the asking.

She’s also quick to challenge how we define success in food. The industry tends to lionize fine dining, white tablecloths, and New York or LA. But Sophia? She wants more people to talk about South Carolina honey, or why Miami deserves the same culinary respect as San Francisco.

“Miami is another large city that has money. But, for whatever reason, it doesn't get compared to LA or San Francisco or even Austin.”

She laughs as she goes deep into citrus varieties, comparing Florida to California and explaining why Florida grapefruits don’t get the credit they deserve. At one point, mid-citrus rant, she stops herself.

“Where is it in northern California that everybody goes?. I don't know. I'm sorry, I'm nine months pregnant.”

This is who she is: impossibly knowledgeable, refreshingly honest, and just a little bit chaotic—in the best way.

“I wish that my story was like, food is my ultimate passion, and I just knew I wanted to be a chef my whole life,” she told me. “But no–I'm a two time college dropout, and I needed a job, and a restaurant was the one place that would hire me.”

She also doesn’t like the word failure. “Is it really a failure or is it just learning something?” she asked.

That honesty, more than anything, is what connects her to the people around her. To chefs, to viewers, to people who didn’t grow up seeing themselves in the kitchen. She’s carved her own way—not through pedigree, but through pure love of the thing itself.

“So like, my greatest hero in food is the food itself.”

And that chosen family? It’s everywhere now. It’s the chefs she interviews. The friends she leans on. The audience who watches her cook. And the extended family who now expects her to ship kitchen equipment and machines ahead of time.

“I told [my fiancé’s mom] I'd bring it back. And she goes, ‘just leave the ice cream maker here, because it's not like, you're not going to come back.’”

Want more of Sophia and her food family? Stream episodes of Signature Dish now on Toast’s YouTube channel.