Less than 100 years ago, it was considered inappropriate for women to dine in restaurants — let alone run them. But much has changed. This series is a tribute to the women who dedicate their time, energy and talents to making the food world a better – and more delicious – place.

“When I was growing up, no one with any influence in the food world looked like me,” says Executive Chef Darleen Vanmanivong of The Edison. 

“There was no Instagram, TikTok or YouTube. I grew up watching chefs like Martin Yang, Wolfgang Puck, Ming Tsai and Emeril Legasse on television. At the time, they were the mirror to the restaurant world.” 

But it wasn’t just the lack of representation of Lao women in the restaurant industry that kept her from considering a career as a chef. 

“In my family, food was important. As a refugee family, there’s always fighting, contention. PTSD is rampant. But food was always the element that brought people together. It unified us and it helped take the edge off of disagreements or memories of negative situations they had to endure. We all loved to cook and eat. But cooking wasn’t seen as a viable profession.”

Instead, cooking was a means to an end. Her grandmother came to the U.S. with a group of Hmong refugees in 1974. Her father had attended culinary school and had taught her how to make a variety of European dishes. As a result of her knowledge, she was chosen to cook for members of the U.S. Aid during the Secret War in Laos.

"We have photos of her cooking Thanksgiving dinner for Americans in Laos," says Vanmanivong. "And I have memories of her mashed potatoes, which she always made with a traditional khok & saak [mortar and pestle]".

“Her knowledge of food was the reason why she was hired. And its was the reason why she made it to the U.S. She loved to cook. Food was the way my grandmother showed us that she loved us. But she was adamant that cooking wasn’t a respectful occupation. It was a job, not a career.”

A change of heart

As a result, Vanmanivong never considered a career in food. Instead, she took on roles in sales and higher education. It wasn’t until her husband’s job took them to Atlanta, Georgia, that she decided she was going to take the opportunity to attend culinary school. 

"The company I worked for actually owned Le Cordon Bleu," she says. "And I got free tuition through my job. So I worked and went back to school full-time. While we were there I also had the opportunity to work with Richard Blais before he went on to Top Chef.”

“One of the things he said to me that I’ll never forget is: ‘Happy cooks cook good food.’  And it's really true.” 

But the biggest lesson in her culinary journey took place after graduation when she and her husband moved back to Milwaukee.

"My grandmother had fallen ill," she says. "And I had the privilege of spending the last three months of her life with her. She was living in Rockford, and I was in Milwaukee. But I drove down to see her whenever I could, and we’d sit for hours and talk about food."

"She had worked as a housekeeper for a hospital my entire life," she adds. "And she was one of the most hardworking women I’ve ever known. But every time we saw her, she made us food...Food was my grandparents’ way of showing love for us and sharing our culture. I didn’t appreciate that as a child. But I understand it now."

"I wouldn’t take back those three months for anything in the world. I knew I loved food, but she made me realize that one day I needed to find a way to do something to showcase our food. It was my responsibility."

Finding her place

In the years that followed, Vanmanivong focused on her culinary career. In Milwaukee, she took a job working with Zak Baker at Lake Park Bistro. When her husband Alex’s job took them to Colorado, she ran a catering company in Colorado Springs, managed the raw bar at Guard & Grace and took on the challenges of butchery and charcuterie at Old Major in Denver. 

While she was there, she encountered one of the more common issues with being a woman in the kitchen: invisibility.

“My job at Old Major was probably my third or fourth line cook position,” Vanmanivong recalls. “Every day the chef crew would collaborate on a special, but I was always excluded. So, I went back and told the owner, Justin Brunson, that I’d have to leave if I wasn’t going to be considered part of the team.”

Rather than letting her leave, Brunson took the matter to heart. He fired the head chef and his two sous chefs.

“I remember sitting in the back of the restaurant with him,” she says. “And he was in tears. He felt so bad about the situation. It made me realize how important it was to speak up. It was also a pivotal moment in my career. When he hired new chefs to replace them, he brought on Amos Watts, who became one of my primary mentors.”

When she and her husband moved back to Milwaukee, she continued honing her craft with work at DanDan, Birch + Butcher, Snack Boys and Amilinda. 

In 2020, the opportunity arose to represent Lao food and culture by assisting Alex Hanesakda of SapSap with his pop-up at Crossroads Collective. And, although the excitement of the pop-up was marred by the beginning of the COVID-19 pandemic, it became the inspiration for Vanmanivong to partner with her husband Alex Beck and launch her own Lao restaurant concept at the food hall.

"I’d been cooking other peoples’ food at other peoples’ restaurants for a very long time," she says. "So I couldn’t wait to be creative and cook my own food."

For 18 months, she put her heart and soul into Thum, a concept named for the rhythmic pounding sound made by a khok and saak, the deep cone-shaped mortar and pestle used to smash ingredients and aromatics for Lao dishes like papaya salad, jeow and more.

But it was a challenging time to start a restaurant. The pandemic impacted the supply chain. It was also a rough time to retain staff, meaning that Beck and Vanmanivong both worked 12-hour shifts six days a week. Even after Vanmanivong sustained a serious injury to her rib, she continued to work.

“I kept working,” she said in an interview following Thum’s closing. “But I was in pain. And after two weeks of trying to keep up with the pace – and not being able to rest and allow my body to heal – I just couldn’t do it anymore.”

So, she did the unthinkable. She closed the restaurant.

“Closing Thum took so much out of me,” she says. “It broke me in such a big way that I no longer had any creativity left to give to anyone. To make matters worse, COVID-19 had been so hard on everyone and restaurants were struggling. I needed time away from it all. So I took a job as a third-shift buyer for Whole Foods and I went underground.”

Eventually, an industry friend, Brian Phillips, talked her into working with him on large-scale catering projects for Matty’s Bar & Grill. “For me, it was less about what I was doing and more about having that camaraderie again. It was hard work, but it brought me back.” 

 A happy cook

In early 2023, Vanmanivong says she remembers reading an article about plans for a new restaurant called The Edison. “After that, I had a dream that I had a job there,” she says. But she disregarded it. Six months later, she got a call from a recruiter.

It turns out they were hiring an executive chef for The Edison. She interviewed for the job, presented a tasting for the team, and was hired in November of 2023.  

Vanmanivong says she's the happiest she's been in a long time.

“This is the biggest role I’ve ever held in my career,” she continues. “From day one, I was responsible for building a team. I took what I’d learned and hired people on the basis of their personality, attitude and passion. You can train people on the cooking side, but you can’t operate without good morale.

"I manage a team of 15 people, and we’re a great team. We respect one another and we take care of one another. Most of all, we push one another to do better every day.”

Vanmanivong has achieved her position thanks to passion, perseverance and determination. But she credits her mentors for giving her the push she needed to keep moving forward, even when things were tough.

“In April, Amos Watts my good friend and mentor, passed away. I think about him every day, and I'll  never forget something he told me: “As a chef and a manager, 51% of everything is your fault.” 

“As women, we tend to take on everything. But it's not about doing everything. It's about staying grounded and taking ownership of my role as a mentor. It's up to me to set expectations and give my staff what they need to succeed."