Feed People Well: Chef's Garden

“Having roughly 20 years of experience in culinary arts, you start to see the difference between providing food that really nourishes people and running a business that’s focused on generating a lot of money,” says Chef Josiah Hernández, Owner of Chef’s Garden. “I’m not necessarily saying you can’t have both, but when I was working in places that served a massive number of people, I began to notice the kind of dishes being served — and they weren’t the kind I felt proud to guide people towards — especially younger generations.” This felt at odds with his own values. “I had to keep asking myself, did it align with my personal convictions? And the answer was no. From time to time, we all eat things that aren’t the healthiest — but it shouldn’t be happening on a sustained level. I didn’t want to immerse myself in a business where I was feeding people food that might be flavourful but that I knew, deep down, was trashy — just to fill tables.”  

Healthy, whole and wholesome 

This principled approach to cooking has been with Josiah since he was young. “My grandmother loved cooking whole, wholesome foods,” he shares. “We had a farm in the north of Puerto Rico, and we’d go there at weekends. Whatever my grandfather harvested, she would cook — especially things like tubers and starches, plantains. To me, that was love; that was her love language. I was born prematurely and had a lot of health issues early in life, and part of my healing came from having access to good food.” 

With good food such a dominant presence in his life, Josiah knew he didn’t want to be part of a system that fed people poorly. He credits his Puerto Rican food heritage for much of this. “For my grandparents’ generation and before that, food was healthy, wholesome and always accessible. My great-grandfather lived to 110 years old. Longevity ran in our family, and that wasn’t unique to us. It was common, especially when you look at ingredients from the Caribbean and our ancestral diets. I often talk to our customers about tubers: root plants that are different from what you see in the north. Things like yuca, taro root, yams and sweet potatoes are all native to our region and packed with nutrients.” 

Puerto Rico’s shift to processed foods 

Things began to shift, especially from the 30s to the 50s, after Puerto Rico became a US territory in 1898. “The idea was to export ‘prosperity’ from the US to its territories,” Josiah explains. “We became a kind of poster child.” The goal was to reduce hunger to zero, to prove that this concept of prosperity worked in practice — but to accomplish this at scale, the government turned to highly processed, cost-effective foods. 

“In the 40s and 50s, we began getting things like canola oil — foods that were incredibly damaging to our diets. My wife is from Colombia, where they still eat whole, wholesome foods. When she saw SPAM here for the first time, she couldn’t believe it.” SPAM is processed meat in a can: “one of the worst things you can do to food,” says Josiah. “But we were fed this idea that if it came from the US, and it came in mass quantities, it must be good for us.” Traditional cooking methods like boiling, braising or simmering in broths were abandoned in favour of frying. “Fried was faster,” he says, “so working moms could make something quickly. That shift changed everything.”  

Over a few decades, the culinary culture in Puerto Rico became saturated with processed food. “Now, even staples like rice and beans — so important to us — are made with canned beans. We don’t soak them overnight anymore. We don’t cook them slowly. Everything is canned, packaged, fried.” He observes that, today, when people Google ‘Puerto Rican food’, what comes up is mostly comfort food. “Heavy, fatty, fried, sauced,” he says. “Tourists say they love the country, the beaches, the people — but the food feels too heavy. After a couple of days, they’re done.” When it comes to the local population, this extreme dietary shift has taken its toll, with high rates of diabetes, obesity and other health problems.  

“It’s different from the US, which doesn’t really have one single food culture that goes back thousands of years. But we do, like many other Latin American countries with deep indigenous roots. What’s happened is, we’ve taken these ancestral traditions and turned them into something unhealthy. That’s the challenge we’re facing today.” 

In the late 20th century, many farmers stopped farming because of import competition. “Beans at the supermarket for 87 cents per pound — how can local farmers compete with that? Canned beans are cheaper than dried beans. It’s mind-blowing.” This took a heavy toll on the country’s agricultural sector. “In the past 15 years alone, Puerto Rico has lost over 500,000 acres of cultivated land — not to roads or buildings, but to abandonment,” he says. The impact of Hurricane Maria in 2017 only made matters worse. “Around that time, 85% of what we consumed was imported,” Josiah says. “Today, it’s estimated to be closer to 90%.” 

This reliance on imports has impacted jobs, too. “Puerto Rico depends heavily on US federal welfare, and the laws have changed so you can receive welfare indefinitely, with housing, utilities and even phone service included,” he shares. “There’s no real incentive to work."

"Today, we have the lowest labour participation rate in the world: only about 35-40% of people who can work actually do.” This situation has created a fragile economy, both caused by and perpetuated by outside support. “This means that, when we talk about feeding people well in Puerto Rico, it’s also about asking: who’s going to grow the food?” 

A return to their culinary roots 

Josiah is happy to share that the past decade has seen a resurgence of young farmers, and over the last five or six years, more chefs (his team included) have been working to change things. “People in their 20s and 30s are reclaiming abandoned land — land that’s still organic and untouched — and starting new projects using regenerative and agroecological methods. Every day, this movement grows stronger. Has it drastically lowered imports? Not yet. But it’s a start. A big part of my work is about showing what’s possible if we go back to our roots.” 

Cost remains a huge issue. “Because we’re a US territory, we have to follow US labour laws. Due to a piece of legislation called the Jones Act, everything we buy has to come from US ships,” he explains. “The Dominican Republic is just 90 km away, but we can’t buy directly from them.” With everything required to be routed through the US, unnecessarily high costs are attached to every import; Josiah says that food is on average 70% higher than in the mainland US. 

The resulting high cost of living, combined with low salaries, makes access to wholesome food difficult. “Some local programmes have started letting people use food stamps at farmers’ markets, and that’s helped,” he says. “As for what’s grown here, there’s a lot of potential. At Chef’s Garden, we work regularly with five farmers. Two in particular — Finca Plenitud and Finca Bohití ­— are close to my heart. They use regenerative practices to grow everything from leafy greens to fruit trees and root vegetables.” 

Preserving food heritage in pursuit of better health 

Tropical tubers are especially important — both as food heritage and as suitable crops for the growing conditions particular to Puerto Rico. “Unlike northern crops, they don’t need shade cloths or irrigation systems. They’re well-adapted, cheaper to grow and less labour-intensive,” says Josiah. They’re also packed with goodness. “Sweet potatoes are rich in vitamin A and can even provide protein, depending on the variety. Yuca leaves are high in protein and iron, but often discarded. They’re similar to matcha but with more nutritional value, so we use them to make things like ice cream.” 

Preserving and promoting indigenous foods is a key value at Chef’s Garden. “We also work with farmers growing nearly-lost ingredients, such as leren, one of the earliest Caribbean plants to be domesticated, now grown by only a few farmers.” Chef’s Garden helps to ensure the survival of these heritage crops by ensuring these farmers are supported. “We guarantee to buy their harvests and share them with a network of fine-dining chefs, creating beautiful dishes that celebrate our heritage.” 

Josiah chooses to prioritise working with whole foods like these, recognising that they support better health. “No chemicals, harvested fresh and packed with nutrients!” he says. “Lettuce, for example, loses a huge amount of nutrients within 24 hours of being cut; that’s why we grow many herbs and teas right here on-site.” They also avoid artificial sweeteners, using honey or sweet potato syrup instead. “I’m obsessed with fermentation, too: it boosts gut health and flavour. We make a lot of different fermented foods using lacto, koji, enzymatic and garum-style fermentation,” he says. “Instead of importing kombu or nori, we use local seaweed: next week’s menu includes it as a garnish. It's highly medicinal and another way we use what’s close to us.” 

In contrast, the team steers clear of processed foods. “They wreak havoc on our health,” he continues. “Canola oil, bleached flours, synthetic additives — our bodies don’t know what to do with them. You don’t feel satisfied, just heavy and sluggish.” Instead, the kitchen at Chef’s Garden makes everything from scratch, including stocks, sauces and spices. “We even smoke and dry our own peppers instead of using processed chipotle sauces. Our food is incredibly flavourful, but leaves you feeling light and satisfied.” 

Feeding people well at Chef’s Garden 

The tasting menu at Chef’s Garden typically includes six courses. “We highlight one or two ancestral ingredients per meal, moving from savoury to sweet, ending with a ceremonial tea. Inspired by Kaiseki, we aim for diners to feel about 85% full satisfied, not stuffed.” Just one of the six courses includes animal protein, and there’s always a plant-based alternative, such as the taro root burger. The remaining courses all highlight fruits and vegetables, with a deliberate focus on a wide diversity of ingredients. 

After each dinner, Josiah makes sure to visit every table. “It’s important to connect with our guests and hear how the food made them feel. The best compliment is when someone says, ‘Thank you for nourishing me.’ That’s why we do this. Flavourful food should be the default, not the exception — and real flavour comes from honouring the ingredient — every part of it.” 

Josiah is keen to spread the message and encourage culinary professionals across Puerto Rico to return to traditional foods and cooking styles. “We’ve inspired chefs we collaborate with to try these ingredients in new ways. That’s how we can start to shift the culture: by showing what’s possible. To other chefs in Puerto Rico, I say: start with what’s already here. Focus on biodiversity. Our strength is in our tropical tubers: explore them deeply, in multiple preparations. Don’t just boil them.” He also mentions PRroduce, an online platform connecting farmers with consumers and restaurants. “That initiative is doing great work. They even list rare or small-quantity items. It’s a smart, scalable model.” 

Food Made Good at Chef’s Garden 

“The Food Made Good Standard was the most difficult certification we’ve done, but also the most rewarding,” he wraps up. “Puerto Rico doesn’t often submit to international standards, and I wanted to change that. I wanted us to hold ourselves to that level. It took a lot of time, and there were moments I wanted to give up. But I knew if I truly believed in what we’re doing, then we needed to be transparent and accountable. It helped us ask hard questions, measure progress and become even better.” 

“Our team grew through the process. It wasn’t easy — but it was worth it, because it’s supposed to be hard. If it were easy, everyone would do it.”