Pandemic-weary chefs, cooks enjoy serving from their home
When COVID-19 shutdowns hit in March 2020, Mike Winneker, a hotel executive sous chef, found himself without work for the first time in years. Between caring for a 6-yearold son and waiting for unemployment benefits, days now spent at home in Scottsdale were stressful.
One night in June, Winneker, 33, cooked up some tacos with beef chuck and beef cheeks. Seeing what a large quantity he had, he came up with the idea of selling tacos. His first test run was a post on the NextDoor app offering brisket barbacoa tacos in his driveway. Winneker decided he would only do it if he had at least $300 in pre-sales.
He made $800 in one day.
“As of right now, I got 300 people on an email list,” said Winneker, who has since been offering tacos twice a week via email and Instagram. “If I capture even a small percentage of that, it helps pay my bills.”
Beaten down by the pandemic, many laid-off or idle restaurant workers have pivoted to dishing out food with a taste of home. Some have found their entrepreneurial side, slinging culinary creations from their own kitchens.
In many cases, that can mean running up against or accommodating health regulations. These chefs and caterers say they need money and a purpose, and their plight has cast new light on an ongoing debate about regulations over the sale of home-cooked meals.
The rules around serving food for immediate consumption vary across states, making for a complex patchwork of requirements, said Martin Hahn, an attorney at Hogan Lovells, which specializes in food industry law. States generally refer to federal guidelines, but
counties and cities drive permit and licensing conditions. While some states have cottage food laws allowing in-house preparation, those are for “lowrisk” products like jams and breads.
“The first place I would go is call my local health department, find out whether there are any licensing requirements, permits you need to have and any restrictions on being able to operate this type of a business out of your home,” Hahn said.
Don Schaffner, a food science professor at Rutgers University who has given workshops on food
safety, said home-cooked foods with items like raw meat are a gamble for consumers. They have to assume that proper storage, prevention of cross-contamination and other best practices were followed.
“I totally get why (the chefs) are doing it. Just from a food safety perspective, I can’t endorse it,” he said.
Eight doors down from Winneker, Ruby Salgado, 26, and her husband, Jose Hernandez, spend their weekends making pizzas in a backyard oven they built. Some nights, they churn out as many as 30 pies with toppings like fennel
sausage, fresh mozzarella and carne asada.
Salgado works as a configuration analyst for pharmacy benefits. But Hernandez, a restaurant line cook, has had his hours cut. Salgado’s 23-year-old brother, whose hours as a restaurant server can fluctuate, also lives with them.
When they moved in in September, Salgado noticed people leaving Winneker’s home with takeout containers and inspiration struck. She and Hernandez planned to someday own a food truck or trailer to peddle pizzas. The pandemic slowdown seemed like a good time to test their concept and earn “extra income to be able to help our family out.”
For foods other than cottage foods, Arizona requires that you get a license from a county environmental health department and cook in a licensed commercial kitchen. For Salgado, renting one wouldn’t be worthwhile unless they consistently sold 50 pizzas.
“I have to do my research and find kitchens close to us that would be willing to rent us a kitchen the morning of to do the prepping,” she said.