It all started with a great date over bad food.
One night last year, Justen Lambert and Nate Crawford were sitting in a late-night diner downtown. The pair had met on Tinder and bonded over a shared love of food. Their casual conversation veered toward the mediocre meal in front of them.
“Nothing was from scratch,” Lambert, 33, told the Chicago Sun-Times. Then they had their light-bulb moment. “We’re looking at it like, ‘We can do better.’”
That meal helped give birth to Morning Jay’s, the now-couple’s breakfast food company and pop-up restaurant. Now eight months in operation, the business is a successful side hustle for the passionate partners, who turn a modest profit by hosting ticketed brunches featuring dishes like their goat cheese and onion jam danishes and occasionally selling frozen fare.
But key to their brand is what they call “cozy cafes,” where they invite friends and colleagues to their Des Plaines home to test their latest recipes, get feedback and enjoy a sense of community over food.
“Food is attached to so much of our history, where we come from and where we’re headed,” Crawford, 29, said. “Eating food can tell you a whole story about that person.”
Serving a need
Morning Jay’s launched as a leap-of-faith passion project while Crawford works as a food photographer for Home Chef and Lambert transitions from his career in auto sales to freelance food styling.
Donations at the cozy cafes were key to spurring profit early on, Crawford said. Each invite-only event, though free, has earned around $500 in donations, offsetting the roughly $200 they spend on ingredients and materials.
But when a video of theirs went viral last fall, the company “spiraled into a whole other avenue that we didn’t even know existed,” which has helped them promote the company and attract new customers, Lambert said. The cozy cafes have also opened the door to public pop-ups and collaborations.
The business turned a small profit three months after opening. Since launching last July, they’ve earned $7,000 in revenue. Meanwhile, leveraging social media has garnered Morning Jay’s more than 10,500 followers on Instagram.
“Being on the internet, you can see what folks want,” Crawford said. “Time and time again, I see folks crying out for a communal space and to not feel like we’re being force-fed an overtly commercialized product.”
Cozy cafes pair food and community
In many ways, Lambert and Crawford’s personalities mirror their approach to food. Lambert, the chef, is carefree and follows recipes loosely. Crawford, the baker, is a meticulous perfectionist, as much a scientist as an artist in the kitchen.
They say the same personality traits that made them compatible as partners also allowed them to run a business together. They haven’t ruled out opening a brick-and-mortar cafe, but it’s not currently on their radar. They are also toying with the idea of bringing wholesale items to grocery stores and restaurants.
If the business ever puts too much strain on their relationship, though, they say they’re prepared to choose the relationship over the business.
But after prepping for an event since dawn one Saturday morning this month, their bond didn’t seem to be in danger. They’d already spent the previous day chopping, zesting, mixing and sauteing.
“It’s like the feeling before you go on stage,” Crawford said. “All this time and energy leads up to this opening act.”
Ten of their friends and colleagues gathered at their home to sample an array of could-be Morning Jay’s menu items. The room buzzed with chatter that moved from small talk to bonding over books, movies and video games. Patrons munched on chocolate black sesame pop-tarts, sipped lattes and enjoyed the balance of flavors and colors in the Thai tea waffles served with ube whipped cream and starfruit. And they savored the experience of meeting new people in an intimate space surrounded by food.
“It’s like going to your friend’s house who you know cooks really well, and you know everything they give you is gonna slap,” said Michelle Vanderwood, who met Crawford through her job at cake company Bon Vivant.
“And you know to come hungry,” added her friend Kristen Moran.