After 13 years of making a name for herself in New York’s demanding kitchens—from the frenetic club galleys of the Meatpacking District to the Roberta’s empire in Brooklyn—Jackie Carnesi is taking on a rather different legacy: reopening Williamsburg’s iconic Kellogg’s Diner.
What does look like to breathe new life a spot that's been standing for almost a century? For Carnesi, it's a witches' brew of nostalgia and curiosity. With a no-frills approach to food, the new menu fuses comforting diner staples with the vibrancy of her Tex-Mex heritage. Carnesi’s culinary roots run deep, shaped by the melting pot of South Texas, her mother’s home-cooked dinners, and even the meals she prepared for friends in college. A few weeks into Kellogg’s Diner’s new era, Carnesi ducked away to speak with CULTURED about her South Texas roots, how raising a kid has changed her relationship to the kitchen, and why lunch is her favorite meal of the day.
Where are you, and what is in your system?
I'm currently in a construction zone. The upper level of Kellogg's is being built out as a bar, and it's ironically one of the few quiet spaces right now. So I’m hiding. I had some cottage cheese and pineapple this morning, but now I am having a cold dinner roll with cold butter. That'll probably be my lunch.
A dinner roll and cottage cheese—it's almost geriatric. I love it.
I know, right? I was considering putting cottage cheese on the menu. It's not a classic diner menu if you don't have a weird, ice cream scoop of cottage cheese in a bowl. But we'll probably pass!
Do you have any rituals for a restaurant opening? Anything that helps you get in the zone?
Every opening is different. For this one, I've really tried to limit my alcohol intake. I try to have a really good sleep and a clear mind and to not be like, "Oh my God, I really could use the martini at the end of the day," even though there are definitely some days where I could really use the martini. I don't know if there are any rituals. I'm really just trying to take care of my body and make sure I'm sticking to my workout routine. It’s less of a ritual, more of ensuring I'm implementing my routines.
When did you know you first wanted to spend a life in the kitchen?
I was halfway through college at St. Edwards University in Austin, and I didn't really know what I wanted to do. I was studying psychology, but cooking a lot for friends. Around that time, it was the start of shows like Top Chef. That was definitely never my goal, but it did allow me to look at a culinary career as something that was respectable and attainable. I called up my mom and I was like, "I want to go to culinary school and drop out of college," and she said "That's such a stupid idea." Not because she wasn't supportive, but because I needed to finish college. I’m glad I finished. After that, I went to CIA in Napa Valley and moved to New York.
What was your first restaurant experience like in New York?
When I came to do my externship for culinary school, I worked at Abe & Arthur's, which was a wild, wild, wild place to work. It was in the Meatpacking District, and there was a club in the basement. It was probably 250 seats, maybe 300. We had a massive staff. And even though it was a tuna tartare tacos and beet salad type menu, the chefs that I was working with were very well respected. Chris Cipollone was my boss. He runs Francie in Williamsburg, which has a Michelin star and is truly one of my favorite restaurants. The fact that we both ended up at Abe & Arthur's restaurant was so random.
How did that experience shape your introduction to the New York food world?
I think it was a really accurate depiction of what I was getting myself into. I remember one day I worked 18 hours and barely ate all day. I was about to keel over at the end of the day when one of the chefs was like, "Did you eat today?" And I was like, "Not really, chef." They were ready to give me the full experience. They said, "All right, you're starting on prep and then you're spending time with the fish butcher and then you're spending time with the meat butcher and then you're going to be …" and I was like, "This is great. I'm exhausted. I love it."
Looking back, what advice would you give that version of yourself?
Take better care of yourself. Sleep more, go out less, and maybe do more cultural activities versus just eating and drinking. Obviously, that's a really integral and exciting part of being a young cook, especially when you grew up in South Texas where the culinary scene is amazing but pretty linear. Coming to New York where it was so diverse was so eye opening.
For the opening of Kellogg's, I feel like you're listening to that advice. You’ve come full circle.
Something about age and wisdom!
Can you tell me about the Texan food culture you grew up in? What was your family's relationship to food growing up in South Texas?
The way my family approached food is the main reason I appreciate food as much as I do. My mom was a phenomenal cook from rural Tennessee. My dad was born and raised in Brownsville, Texas. So generations of my family are from South Texas. My mom put a lot of effort into making sure that our meals were nutritious and fresh. The older I got, the more health conscious she became. She was into eating tofu and juicing—stuff that was uncommon when I was 10 years old. She had the guy at H-E-B [a Texan grocery store chain] special ordering ingredients for her. Then simultaneously, she would just make really amazing fried chicken and biscuits—things that she grew up eating.
When we went out to eat, it was the most incredible Mexican culinary landscape, being so close to the border. We would frequently cross it to grab dinner. So I had a really cool and unique experience in terms of what it was like to grow up in South Texas. We're right on the Gulf Coast, so we constantly could go to the port and buy the freshest shrimp and seafood you can get. The only thing lacking down there is really good produce. I grew up on a farm, but we grew sorghum and cotton. Nobody was growing tomatoes. I know that H-E-B produce sections are really, really sad. I feel they've changed over the years, but it could be pretty dire when I was growing up.
Let’s turn to Kellogg's. Obviously, the diner is a Williamsburg staple, which has had its fair share of ups and downs. What did it feel like to take on that legacy?
First and foremost, it's a huge honor to have this role. Even though I've lived here for 13 years, I still consider—and New Yorkers probably consider me—an outsider. I think if a New Yorker came into Texas and was reopening an iconic restaurant, a lot of people would be like, ‘Who is this Yankee?’ So I'm grateful that people haven't really been throwing too much hate my way. People have so many different ties to this restaurant, whether it's nostalgia or memories. Despite the qualms with food or service, people were still coming, right? There's so many special things about this place—the location, the team, the memories. Now I get to take all that and hopefully do it justice.
Tell me about designing the menu. How did you fuse diner elements with your South Texas background?
Initially, the menu was supposed to be centered around Tex-Mex, Southern, and Mexican cuisine—my specialties. But the further along we got, it made more sense to reflect a broader diner scope. Louis, the owner, is trying to fulfill a 30-year lease, so we wanted a menu that’s going to keep this place around. We added dishes to appeal to a broader audience, like egg salad sandwiches, chicken noodle soup, and a half roasted chicken with greens.
You've said that being a parent has shaped your career. How has it affected your relationship with the kitchen?
Being a parent has taught me that no matter how good of a cook you are, your kid doesn’t care. The number of times I've had my friends tell my son, "Don’t you know how good of a chef your mom is?" and he's like, "Yeah, give me some scrambled eggs or chicken nuggets or whatever." He's six, so I hope he grows out of that. In terms of more important lessons, I’ve learned how unimportant certain things are. You don’t need to die on every hill. Arguing with a five year old is pointless. You usually win by approaching things with patience, kindness, and understanding versus anger and yelling. I try to carry that with me.
What are your top three spots and dishes in New York outside of your own kitchen?
I went to Cafe Mogador in Williamsburg twice this week because they had this whole fried branzino with chermoula. It came with a little salad that was so phenomenal. There's very few things that I eat where I'm like, ‘I have to have that tomorrow.’ I love Eyval. Eyval is awesome. It's such a good place to go and get five things and share them. Everything is unique. I had an amazing octopus dish there the other day, and I don't really do octopus. There are classics like Rolo's. It's just such a community-centered restaurant, always busy, always delicious.
Rapid fire time: If you had to choose between breakfast, lunch or dinner, which one and why?
Lunch. I tend to skip breakfast or eat something boring. I'm still very much a daytime person. I love the sunshine. I like to be asleep by 8:30 p.m.
As a chef?
I know, not everybody is perfectly designed for the chef career. That’s my one gripe. So lunch. I love a tomato sandwich on the beach. It’s my ideal situation.
What's your go-to bodega order?
Bodega order? Oh my god. I'm gonna sound like a terrible New Yorker. I almost never order from a bodega. If I do, it's a chicken caesar wrap.
What do you splurge on in your kitchen? And what do you save on?
I splurge on white balsamic vinegar. I got into a really bad white balsamic vinegar habit at Roberta's because we used a specific brand. It's called Terre Bormane white balsamic vinegar. I love it because I can put it on salads with a little bit of salt and olive oil. It has enough acid and sweetness that I don't have to make a salad dressing. I literally just dress the greens, and it's so balanced. It's great for finishing vegetables. The other day, I bought this nice, pre-shredded parmesan. But it was expensive, and my son and I ended up throwing it out because it got really moldy. The next time I went to the grocery store, I just bought the really shitty parmesan that I grew up eating as a kid that's in the shaker can.
The Kraft one?
Yeah, and it was totally fine!
What's the dish that represents where you're at in your life right now?
This is a little bit of a cheat answer, because it's two dishes. But I put two kinds of nachos on the menu. The tall nachos and the flat nachos. I like to joke that they represent the two chapters of my life. The flat nachos are very nostalgic for me. There is a restaurant called The Vermillion in Brownsville. The nachos they serve are big chips individually built with refried beans, melted cheese, pickled jalapenos, and chopped up fajitas. And that was what my concept of nachos was until I moved to Austin. I went to Kerbey Lane and Magnolia Cafe, and you could get these big piles of nachos with queso and black beans and all that. I always joke that that’s the second chapter of my life—when I moved away from home and started out on my own.
