Alright – so today we’ve got the honor of introducing you to Sebastien Salomon. We think you’ll enjoy our conversation, we’ve shared it below.

Hi Sebastien, thanks for joining us today. Looking back, do you think you started your business at the right time? Do you wish you had started sooner or later

Honestly, I feel like I’ve been an entrepreneur my whole life it started long before I ever called it that.
Growing up in Haiti, I used to go to the market, buy candies and cookies, and sell them to my classmates. I had a knack for finding things that weren’t available in the schoolyard and turning that into a profit. That hustle came naturally to me.
When I moved to the States, that same instinct kicked in. I started buying iron-on paper, making custom shirts, and selling those for a profit. It was scrappy, but it worked. That eventually grew into running my own catering business and now I’m on the verge of opening my own restaurant.
So when people ask if I wish I had started sooner, honestly, I’m not sure “sooner” is the right word because in many ways, I never really stopped starting. What I do wish is that I had the knowledge I have now back then. The business sense, the financial literacy, understanding systems and scaling — all of that came through experience, sometimes the hard way.
But maybe that’s the point. Every stage built on the last one. The kid selling candy in Haiti was training the man who would one day open a restaurant. I just wish I could go back and give that kid a little more information for the road ahead.

Awesome – so before we get into the rest of our questions, can you briefly introduce yourself to our readers.

My name is Sebastien, and my story is proof that purpose has a way of finding you even when you’re running from it.
I was born and raised in Haiti, surrounded by the kind of richness that doesn’t show up in headlines. The colors, the music, the resilience of the people and above all, the food. My greatest teacher was my grandmother, a woman who never learned to read or write, but who spoke fluently in the language of flavor. She could walk into a kitchen with whatever was available and create something that made you feel seen, loved, and full in every sense of the word. She didn’t just cook she cared. And without me even realizing it, she was planting seeds in me that would one day grow into my life’s work.
When she passed, I shut that part of myself down. Cooking reminded me of her, and grief has a way of making you avoid the very things you love most. I walked away from the kitchen and thought I was walking away for good.
But purpose doesn’t give up on you.
When I moved to the United States, I needed work and a friend brought me to a restaurant for a summer job. I walked in expecting to wash dishes and stay invisible. Then, on my very first day, my friend got into an altercation with a line cook and just like that, they were both gone. The kitchen was short-handed, the orders were coming in, and someone looked at me and said, “You’re up.”
I had no idea what I was doing. But the moment I stepped onto that line, something woke up inside me. The heat, the urgency, the rhythm of a kitchen in full motion it was beautiful chaos. It was alive. And somewhere in the middle of that controlled madness, I heard my grandmother’s voice again. I fell in love, completely and without hesitation.
That moment changed everything.
I threw myself into the craft with everything I had. I went to culinary school, studied, practiced, failed, learned, and kept going. I worked my way up through the industry with hunger and humility, earning my place in some of the most prestigious kitchens in the country. I had the profound honor of cooking at the White House and at the Embassy of Haiti moments that reminded me how far love for a craft can take you when you refuse to give up.
And now, I’m standing at the threshold of what I believe is my greatest chapter yet.
This summer, I will open the world’s first Haitian tasting menu restaurant a dining experience unlike anything that exists today. This isn’t just about food. It’s about finally giving Haitian cuisine the global stage it has always deserved. It’s about walking into a room and experiencing Haiti its depth, its elegance, its soul through every single course. It’s about honoring the grandmothers and the home cooks and the unsung culinary heroes of a culture that has given so much to the world and asked for so little recognition in return.
What sets me apart isn’t just technique or training. It’s the story behind every dish. It’s the fact that I cook with memory and intention. It’s the understanding that a great meal doesn’t just feed the body it moves something in you. It connects you to people and places and moments you may have never experienced, but somehow feel deeply.
I’m most proud not of the accolades, but of the mission. Every plate I send out is a conversation between Haiti and the world. Every guest who sits at my table leaves knowing something they didn’t know before about a culture, about a cuisine, about what food can be when it comes from a place of true love.
If you’re a food lover, a culture seeker, or someone who believes that dining can be a transformative experience this is for you. Come with an open mind and an open heart, and I promise you, you won’t leave the same.
This is more than a restaurant. This is a movement. And it started with a grandmother who never read a word but understood everything that mattered.

We’d love to hear a story of resilience from your journey.

If you want to understand my resilience, you have to understand where I started.
I came to the United States from Haiti with a different language, a different culture, and no roadmap for what came next. America was new, English was a challenge, and the odds of building anything meaningful felt slim. But I didn’t come this far to stand still.
I started at the bottom and I mean the very bottom. The dish room. Sleeves up, hands in water, invisible to most of the world. For a lot of people, that’s where the story ends. For me, that’s where it began.
I couldn’t always express myself perfectly with words, but I could work. I could watch, learn, absorb, and outwork everyone around me. Every dish I cleaned was a step forward. Every shift was a lesson. I was in a foreign country, navigating a foreign language, but inside that kitchen I found a language we all spoke the language of food, of craft, of showing up every single day and refusing to quit.
Slowly, I moved up. The dish room led to the line. The line led to culinary school. Culinary school led to bigger kitchens, bigger challenges, and bigger opportunities. And eventually, the kid who once couldn’t speak the language fluently was standing in one of the most prestigious kitchens in the world cooking at the White House.
Let that sink in.
From a dish room to the White House. From a new country with a new language to representing Haitian cuisine at the highest levels. That journey wasn’t handed to me it was built, one hard day at a time, with grit, humility, and an unshakeable belief that my story wasn’t finished.
And it’s still not finished. Because now I’m taking everything that journey taught me and pouring it into the world’s first Haitian tasting menu restaurant. Every obstacle I overcame, every moment someone underestimated me, every time I had to work twice as hard just to be seen it all led here.
Resilience isn’t just surviving the hard moments. It’s letting those moments shape you into someone who can do something meaningful with them. That’s what I’m doing. And I’m just getting started.

How did you build your audience on social media?

Building an audience on social media wasn’t something I mapped out with a strategy or a marketing plan. It happened the same way everything else in my journey has by showing up authentically and refusing to stop.
The first thing I learned is that people can feel the difference between someone performing for the camera and someone actually living their truth. Social media can be a noisy, negative space, and that noise can make you want to shrink, to second-guess yourself, to water down who you are just to avoid criticism. I made the decision early on to resist that. I chose to show up as exactly who I am a Haitian chef with a story, a passion, and a mission and let people decide if they wanted to come along for the ride.
The ones who resonated, stayed. And they brought others with them.
The second thing I learned is that consistency is everything. We live in a world of instant gratification, and social media can make you feel like if something doesn’t take off immediately, it’s not working. But Rome wasn’t built in a day, and neither is a loyal audience. I committed to showing up every day posting, sharing, engaging not because I had a viral moment to chase, but because I believed in what I was building. Over time, that consistency became its own kind of credibility. People started to trust me because I was always there.
And the third piece of advice I’d give anyone just starting out pick a niche. Don’t try to be everything to everyone. The riches are in the niches. Know what you stand for, who you’re speaking to, and what unique value only YOU can bring to the table. For me, it was Haitian cuisine and culture a space that was wide open and deeply personal. When you find that intersection between your passion and a gap in the market, you stop competing and start leading.
So if you’re just starting your social media journey, here’s what I’d tell you: Be authentically you. Be consistent even when it feels like no one is watching. Find your niche and own it unapologetically. The right people will find you but only if you’re brave enough to show them who you really are.

Contact Info:

• Website: https://itiyahdc.com
• Instagram: @kuisineking
• Youtube: kuisineking

Image Credits

GUERDINE CADET