In San Antonio, the city’s culinary magic doesn’t always happen on a restaurant menu. Sometimes it unfolds in a dimly lit loft, a boutique hotel or a space tucked into St. Paul Square, where top local chefs take the reins and anything can happen. These underground dinners are intimate, unpredictable and utterly delicious — offering adventurous eaters a front-row seat to the creativity, personality and heart that makes our city’s food scene truly unforgettable.
St. Paul Square Dinner Club
Nearly eight years ago, after reading a news article about an underground dinner club in New York, something clicked. At the time, my then-partner and I were already immersed in San Antonio’s culinary world through our brand, Homegrown Chef, so the idea of hosting intimate, chef-driven dinners felt both exciting and fated. That early spark led us to launch our own underground dinner series — private, one-night-only experiences hosted in a residence and centered entirely around the creativity of local chefs. I still curate underground dinners once a quarter, and it remains one of the purest expressions of why I love this industry.
Then, a few years ago, a restaurateur friend who had just opened a restaurant in St. Paul Square asked if I’d consider hosting a public-facing dinner club in his space. That invitation became the foundation for what is now the St. Paul Square Dinner Club. While his restaurant sadly stopped hosting events almost as quickly as it began, the dinner club itself refused to disappear. Through sheer will — and a little stubborn optimism — I’ve kept it going for nearly two years now, with dinners popping up wherever the energy feels right. Along the way, we’ve hosted events at The Aiden Hotel, Cuba 1918 and Cherrity Bar, with each venue lending its own character to the experience.
At its heart, the St. Paul Square Dinner Club is about spotlighting the depth of talent in San Antonio’s culinary community. Some of the incredible chefs we’ve featured include Chef Jesse Kuykendall — better known as Chef Kirk, a Food Network champion on both Chopped and Supermarket Stakeout — Chef Kaius, a perennial competition winner across the city, Chef Cesar Zepeda of his former restaurant, Sangria on the Burg, Chef Geronimo Lopez formerly from Botika and Supper, and Elena D’Agostino Burns, a beloved private Italian chef whose food speaks to the soul.
No two dinners are ever the same. Menus are created for one night only, and formats are intentionally fluid. Sometimes courses are plated; sometimes they’re communal. We once had a handmade pizza course served buffet-style by Diana Anderson, the modern chili queen of Texas. Chef Kirk turned one of his courses into a live tamal demonstration, preparing them in real time before it was portioned and served to guests. These moments — unexpected, personal and a little messy — are exactly the point.
Like Joel Rivas of Saint City Supper Club, what fuels me most is giving chefs the freedom to cook without constraints. Watching them step outside the boundaries of their restaurants and cook purely from instinct is a privilege. And yes, there’s a definite perk in tasting their food — usually a few hurried, cold bites grabbed in the kitchen between courses — but even that chaos feels sacred.
The life of a chef is demanding, and even being chef-adjacent can be exhausting. Still, there are moments that ground everything. At one of our last dinners in 2025, Chef Jared Cattoni of Dos Sirenos Brewing gave a heartfelt speech, sharing how the experience had reinvigorated him. As he spoke, I was reminded why I do this. My purpose has always been to support chefs and, by extension, the farmers, ranchers and artisans who make good food possible in the first place. A chef once told me that cooking is one of the rare professions where your work doesn’t just serve someone — it becomes a part of them, woven into their body, into their essence. That idea has stayed with me ever since.
Next up, on June 18 at Cuba 1918, the St. Paul Square Dinner Club will feature Chef Raul Mendoza of Alla Nonnas, where he was known for his affordable and comforting Italian-American cuisine, Paesanos Riverwalk, where he served as Executive Chef, and now as Cuba 1918’s new chef. This journey has been a rollercoaster, but I wouldn’t trade it for anything.
For tickets and updates, find St. Paul Square
Dinner Club on Facebook and Eventbrite, or
email sutapants@gmail.com for details.
Saint City Supper Club
Founded in 2017, the Saint City Supper Club was never meant to be just another pop-up dinner series. For founder Joel Rivas, it began as a vehicle for something much deeper: funding Saint City and Heard, a nonprofit created to provide mental health and wellness support within the culinary industry.
“I’m an ex-addict, been clean for almost 30 years,” shared Joel. “I got into substance abuse in the industry when I was really young.” While consulting for restaurants — handling marketing and operations — he kept seeing the same pattern. “I saw great kids that had terrible substance abuse issues with no access to health and recovery care. At the time there were no other orgs like that. It was an issue that needed to be addressed.”
The solution, he decided, should be joyful, as well as tasty. “What a thing to do — have a really cool supper club, raise some money and awareness and give some chefs who would not normally have a platform one,” he explained.
Saint City Supper Club launched that February 2017 with intimate dinners — typically just 24 guests — where chefs could cook food that wasn’t confined by restaurant expectations. “Most sous chefs and chefs de cuisine are cooking someone else’s food,” said Joel. “I wanted to give them a platform to unleash their personality on a plate.”
Over the years, the lineup quietly became a who’s-who of San Antonio talent before many names were widely known. Early dinners featured Robbie Nowlin, Misty Norris, Alex Paredes, Jeff White and Jenn Riesman, Luis Colón and a then-under-the-radar Ian Lanphear — now one of San Antonio’s top chefs. “When I first had Ian, he was working at Gwendolyn,” recalled Joel. “I was telling everyone, this guy is incredible — he’s just the greatest guy and such a talented chef. He was doing stuff no one else was doing at all.”
From the beginning, Saint City was built on mystery and trust. Menus were never released in advance. “I tell chefs, this is your platform— you tell me what music, everything.” Michael Sohocki once wrote a five-paragraph manifesto explaining why knowing where food comes from matters, followed by a seven-course dinner with no previews. Robbie Nowlin served eight courses in chef whites and candlelight, blasting ’90s hip-hop, and ended the night by bringing out Olde English malt liquor. “It was unhinged,” laughed Joel.
Guests are warned upfront: no substitutions, no expectations. “If you have an allergy, you probably shouldn’t come,” he warned. And yet, resistance is rare. “I’ve only had like three out of the hundreds that were miffed by it.” The experience is intentionally adult — 21 and over, alcohol included, dinners running about two hours.
After a pandemic hiatus and the eventual dissolution of the nonprofit when funding dried up, Saint City Supper Club returned in October 2025 — this time purely for the love of it. “I just wanted to do something fun again. The new theme centers on Querencia, a Spanish word meaning the place where someone feels most at home. What a lot of chefs are doing is making food they grew up with. Food that connects them back,” he said.
Today, the dinners remain rare, nomadic and intentionally small. “Part of the allure is the mystery. Chefs, at their core, are nurturing people. They’re givers. They don’t take care of themselves. When they do their own food, they get back in touch with, ‘This is why I do what I do.’ Knowing you played a part in that — that’s what keeps me going back to it.”
For tickets, follow @stcitysupperclub on IG.
San Antonio may be a UNESCO-designated Creative City of Gastronomy, but there are still plenty of people who hesitate to venture outside their comfort zones. Stretching palates is another quiet mission of dinner clubs. As a food writer, I learned early on that letting the chef decide what I eat almost always leads to a more memorable experience. My hope is that these dinners encourage others to do the same — and to explore our city’s culinary landscape with curiosity and trust.
