Mariya Moore-Russell Is Cooking on Her Own Terms Again
One afternoon in 2019, chef Mariya Moore-Russell got a phone call that changed her life. Kikkō, her omakase-style restaurant in Chicago, had received a Michelin star—making her the first Black woman in the guide’s 100-plus year existence to command a Michelin-starred kitchen. “It was amazing,” she says. “Seeing the results of my labor in that way made me so proud.”
The achievement wasn’t just a career high for Moore-Russell, it was also a major milestone for the restaurant industry at large, which has historically undervalued women of color. But behind the scenes, she found it difficult to celebrate the history-making moment. “I was not mentally well,” she says.
Throughout her culinary career, the chef had always felt like her successes were bigger than herself. That pressure to push toward something greater fueled her ambition—but it also took a toll. “There was so much trauma associated [with food],” Moore-Russell says. “You give so much to this thing that doesn’t give you the same things back.”
Ten months after Michelin called, she moved to Hawaii in search of purpose. Time away from high-octane restaurants and toxic kitchens helped her come to terms with her own internal struggles—and learn how to approach cooking in a way that nourished both herself and the people she feeds. “I was no longer pushing myself,” she says, and instead “really understanding that how I feel is real and it matters for my life and my well-being.”
Moore-Russell returned to Chicago in July 2023 and founded a pop-up supper club called Connie’s Underground. Named after her beloved late aunt, the “liberation project,” as she describes it, focuses on sustainable cooking through family recipes and dishes inspired by seasonal ingredients with creative twists—all enjoyed by “a community with people who are like-minded to change the world.”
Since then, Moore-Russell—who has become a shining light for other Black female restaurateurs—has hosted two more Connie’s Underground pop-ups, with plans to build upon that experience in the near future. For the first time in her 15-year-long career, she is making food on her own terms and honoring herself “in every moment.”
Growing up in Springfield, Ohio, Moore-Russell learned about the importance of community and cooking from a young age. Her Aunt Connie’s house “always smelled like delicious food,” she recalls, and their big family dinners opened her eyes to the magic of sharing a meal with loved ones. After graduating high school in 2007, she moved to Chicago to study at Le Cordon Bleu College of Culinary Arts (formerly known as The Cooking and Hospitality Institute of Chicago), where she would often cook for her classmates. “I saw myself being this safe house for people, just like the homes and communities I grew up in were for me,” she says. “[I was] feeding people in a way that was nourishing and giving—somewhere people could come and get what they needed, connect, and be replenished.”
Her first restaurant job out of school was as a chef tournant at Chicago’s acclaimed (now-shuttered) vegan restaurant Green Zebra. Tired of the cold winters, Moore-Russell left in 2013 to check out the restaurant scene down in Charleston, working at a cocktail bar, a banh mi cafe, and a farm-to-table restaurant. When her father was diagnosed with ALS three years later, she moved back to Chicago and started at Oriole, her Green Zebra co-worker Noah Sandoval’s Michelin-starred restaurant in the West Loop neighborhood. In 2019, she helped him open Kikkō, a seven-course omakase spot with only eight dining seats. “I just knew I wanted to be a part of it,” she says.
During that time, she oversaw both Kikkō and its sister bar upstairs, Kumiko. “My mindset was to make sure that what I was putting out was delicious and [up] to the standard that I had been taught, to the standard that I move around the earth with,” Moore-Russell says. “That level of execution was ingrained in me at an early age.” Her unwavering commitment to delivering an unforgettable experience put Kikkō on Michelin’s radar just five months after opening.
By all accounts, Moore-Russell was at the top of her game. But what those closest to her didn’t know was that it had all become too overwhelming. “I was working close to 100 hours a week, constantly extending myself, spreading myself very thin, and wanting more support and not receiving it,” she says. “I was working myself to death and still not feeling like it was enough.”
In 2020, as the world was forced to stop its daily routine due to the COVID-19 pandemic, she decided to do the same. “I needed to pull myself out of the dark place I was in and decide how to move forward,” Moore-Russell says. “So I left without any kind of plan.” Giving herself to restaurants in the way she was had become unsustainable. “I needed to change,” she confesses.
That summer, Moore-Russell moved to Hawaii and began prioritizing herself over her work. “I knew I needed to spend some time away from food,” she says. “I started housekeeping for a little while, and after that I got a job as a private chef for a sweet family of three. I did that for about a year, then started moving towards traveling and doing more collaborative things.” Figuring out how to “get back into cooking for the public without having to do it full-time was one of the most challenging parts of my journey,” she adds, “but I learned so much from it.”
Time away from professional kitchens helped remind her why she loved cooking in the first place, and working with a therapist and life coach helped her create new boundaries in the process. “I started thinking about what matters to me, like ‘Why did I start cooking in the first place professionally?’ and ‘What led me on this journey of food?’” she says. “[I kept coming] back to my family and those very peaceful, loving places that I grew up in. So I asked myself, How do I do this?”
After two and a half years in Hawaii, Moore-Russell finally felt ready to forge her own path in a way that prioritized bringing people together. Getting to that point “felt really great, really freeing,” she says.
In January 2024, Moore-Russell hosted her first Connie’s Underground pop-up supper club at an event space in Chicago. The dinner for 30 people was organized and put on with help from family and her close friends in the culinary world, which she says kept “our spirits high, the vision for Connie’s clear and easily translatable to others, and the environment trusting.”
The evening began with three small snacks: mussels escabeche on a seeded cracker with caviar, truffle deviled eggs, and shrimp lettuce wraps. For dinner, guests sat at a communal table. An amuse-bouche of dashi (warm Japanese broth) was served, before a family-style main course of whole grilled snapper with roasted fish bone sauce, dirty fried rice, sauteed greens, and charred cabbage with a truffle apple reduction. For dessert, Moore-Russell served her grandmother’s preserved pear recipe, because, as she says, eating that dish growing up “is one of the most intense food memories that I have.”
The event focused on celebrating authentic human connection through food, with “values rooted in care, community, intentional living, and being fully aware of how my choices as a chef affect the world around me,” Moore-Russell says. “I am trying to cultivate an atmosphere of healing, celebration, and joy through nourishment and connection.” One guest later described the dinner as “a communal experience of excellence.” To her, it was the ultimate compliment. “This is for my healing and liberation, just like it is for everyone else that is a part of it,” she says. “It is for all of us.”
Increasing the accessibility and affordability of Connie’s Underground is important moving forward. Moore-Russell wants to do more casual pop-ups around Chicago in unconventional places, like urban farms or art studios. She would also like to offer classes that teach sustainability in cooking. “Leaving restaurants was the first step to fiercely loving and unapologetically choosing myself,” she says. “It feels like everything that is meant for me has been choosing me ever since. Rebuilding my life has not been easy, but I know we all deserve better, and I will fight for that.”
All photos captured by Ipo Nicole with IN Hawaii Photos.
This story is part of our Chef’s Kiss series. Click the link below for all the stories.
You Might Also Like
