This story really tugged on my heartstrings—it bears a lot of similarity to my family’s restaurant story. My dad was orphaned at 11, and his entire life was uprooted when he emigrated to America at 19. He opened his restaurant alongside his two orphaned brothers in Austin, TX. Tim and Joe Rammell, also orphaned, ended up opening a restaurant alongside an unexpected best friend in Salt Lake City, UT.

Drunken Kitchen (DK) opened their proverbial “doors” out of a commercial ghost kitchen on November 17, 2023. Since then they’ve gone from ghost kitchen to shared kitchen, and now they’re cheffing it up out of a brewery restaurant. They’ve got their eyes set on opening another location—and they’ve got the chops to back it. Last year, Salt Lake City Weekly gave DK a slew of accolades: #2 Best New Restaurant, Best Dumpling, and Tim as the city’s #2 Best Chef.

And this year, DK was featured as one of Salt Lake City Magazine’s Best Restaurants—and nominated by Salt Lake City Weekly for Best Asian Restaurant.

Grab a cocktail and follow along as I get to share yet another “American Dream” unfolding in real time—and what it took three childhood friends to make DK a reality. Stick to the end—DK’s graciously agreed to share a recipe for BTB readers to take home.

Tim and Joe were born in China and Taiwan, respectively, to the same parents. But before Wyoming, before kitchens, and before Salt Lake City (SLC) they grew up together in Taiwan’s foster system.

Then came the moment that changed everything.

In 2006, an American family showed up in Taiwan looking to adopt a little boy. They wanted Joe.

Tim was ten years old. Joe was nine. Naturally, the two were inseparable, having endured so much together. Joe refused to come to America unless both of them were adopted. So as fate would have it, the two brothers were adopted together and dropped into one of the wealthiest mountain towns in the country: Jackson, Wyoming.

No English. New culture. New everything.

Everything changed in a single flight. Their physical environment, socioeconomic reality, and cultural surroundings were overturned overnight. In the blink of an eye, the two were in a snowy mountain town surrounded by wealth and a tiny, tight-knit community. Odds are, they were two of the only Chinese/Taiwanese kids growing up in Jackson at the time.

Friends describe Tim as extroverted and outgoing—he really tried to make American friends when he arrived in the States. Joe, on the other hand, moved at a slower pace and tended to guard himself from others. Joe leaned on Tim as they figured out how to assimilate into America.

What’s invisible to most people is that beneath the surface, the two carry a long history of struggle. They spent nearly five years in Taiwan’s foster care system, moving across numerous homes and living under strict discipline. In some situations, foster families used them to bring in extra cash—at the expense of anything that would resemble a stable home. After arriving in the States, they were bullied and ridiculed as the only two Asian boys in town.

Orphaned, fostered, and moved across the world to a predominantly white community, you’d think it would be hard to find their place.

Enter Sam—their childhood best friend and eventual business partner.

Sam was part of a tight-knit group of kids whose families were close enough that they basically raised each other. He’s one of those human beings with a gravitational pull. Honestly, I think he might be the unsung hero of this story. Had Tim and Joe not been pulled into Sam’s orbit, it wouldn’t be hard to imagine them falling into the kind of tough circumstances that so many orphans and fosters end up navigating alone.

For Tim and Joe, food wasn’t just a “career idea”—it showed up early as a practical skill. Back in Taiwan, Tim learned to cook young and would cook to feed himself and Joe. It wasn’t glamorous, but it was grounding.

After they landed in Jackson, that connection to food stayed with Tim. School, English, and figuring out where you fit in takes time for anyone—especially when you’re new to everything. But to Tim, cooking was familiar. By 14, he found himself immersed in the restaurant world. Joe took jobs here and there while he figured out what path made sense—eventually landing in restaurants too.

As greenhorns, both of them started in Western restaurants. Tim eventually found his way into various kitchens. Joe worked a mix of restaurant jobs in Jackson too—line cooking, dishwashing, even managing a pizza spot. They climbed the ranks fast and became chefs, progressively working their way from dishwashing to the line after showing real aptitude.

After high school, Tim and Joe moved to Seattle, WA, to grow their skillset in a different environment. There, they worked under talented chefs and learned what it would take to open a concept of their own.

After dealing with the realities that drive so many cooks away from the industry, they started yearning for something closer to home—Chinese and Taiwanese flavors they grew up loving. After a number of years in Seattle, the idea of opening a restaurant of his own started to monopolize Tim’s mind.

So in 2020, Tim set his sights on opening a restaurant concept in SLC. Having spent time there, he knew Drunken Kitchen (DK) could create an appetite for authentic Chinese food in the city. Nothing like DK existed and around the country, diners were starting to realize that Chinese food wasn’t just General Tso’s Chicken and Crab Rangoons.

In the background, Sam went to school for accounting and created his own company called Avant, becoming an entrepreneur after a successful career as a professional skier. One day Tim gave him a ring and basically said: “I hate my boss. I can’t do this anymore.”

Tim and Joe wanted to serve the food they grew up eating—dumplings, noodles, duck, and frog legs.

Sam—an endurance athlete (the type who thinks marathons are shakeout runs for ultras)—hit him with something to the tune of: “Stop complaining, build your own thing. There’s no better time than now. We’ve got no kids. No wives. No mortgages.”

That’s something most friends wouldn’t say—let alone put their own skin in the game.

Eventually, the three pooled their savings, and shortly thereafter DK became a reality as a takeout-only spot run out of Square Kitchen (a ghost kitchen). They opened on November 17, 2023. The three kept their jobs, and DK was only open part of the week to maintain their safety nets. DK’s original location wasn’t in a part of town where people “just walked by,” so the team took to social media to drive foot traffic.

Eventually, an influencer tried DK in April of 2024, posted about it, and they went viral on Instagram. Their social media account exploded. People started coming from all over the city for their handmade dumplings.

Sounds amazing, right? Only if you can handle the volume.

If you’ve ever worked in a restaurant, you know that if systems, capacity, and the right staff aren’t in place, it can turn into mayhem: selling out, angry customers, pressure, chaos. That kind of success can either break you or force you to adapt fast.

Eventually, it became clear that their original setup didn’t have the capacity to meet SLC’s demand. They moved into a shared food hall called Square Kitchen Eatery, but that was short-lived.

Sometime during their Square Kitchen days, Tim’s boss caught wind of how well DK was doing and he got fired. Joe was a Chef at a renowned restaurant in SLC called Tradition and it shut down seemingly overnight. Suddenly, DK became the priority out of financial necessity.

After the move, DK became even more popular. Their handmade baos, dumplings, and dan dan noodles brought back repeat customers and their friends. But, success created friction—customers would come for one vendor, see the DK line, and jump ship. Rent pressure and politics eventually pushed them out. At both locations, DK only stayed for six months.

DK tried to find another location, but either no one believed their concept would be successful in SLC and/or leasing rates didn’t make sense from a profitability standpoint. With options dwindling and months passing by, DK was at risk of losing the momentum they had built over the course of the past year. Just when they thought they were out of options, in October of 2024, a local business owner pitched DK to run their kitchen.

In early January 2025, they moved into a full-size restaurant within Grid City Beer Works. The new space seats 125—a far cry from their food hall days. The crew was elated, having found a partner that shared their vision. With their own dedicated space, their output could finally match SLC’s demand and Tim, Joe, and Sam could finally build out the full-service restaurant they envisioned.

Opening night on January 3rd: three-hour waits. It looked like a nightclub. The team was overwhelmed, but somehow they made it work—and they’re still crushing it today. They went from a ghost kitchen in 2023 to roughly $2M in annual revenue today.

Having phenomenal food isn’t the sole recipe for a successful restaurant. Arguably, I don’t even think it’s half the battle. Labor, seasonality, location, food costs, culture, and regulations are all variables that can absolutely affect the profitability of a restaurant.

When they moved to Grid City Beer Works, DK did it to carry the momentum they built during the preceding two years. It was a massive swing—and it meant taking on a whole new set of headwinds for a larger operation.

Across America, there’s still this lingering misconception that Chinese food is cheap, greasy, and fast. It’s magnified in Utah. SLC’s hospitality economy is also massively seasonal—not just in tourism traffic, but in palates. Unlike more ethnically diverse cities, it’s not commonplace to find someone crushing hot dumplings when it’s 100 degrees outside. Summers are a challenge.

What’s beautiful about DK’s story is that Tim, Joe, and Sam didn’t let the odds anchor them. Hell, they opened a Chinese-Taiwanese restaurant inside a brewery where guests have to be 21+. A lot of people would freeze with those constraints. In Tim’s words: “Hey, f*** it. I love doing this and now’s the time.”

Many would pump the brakes with those odds stacked against them, but they didn’t.

Despite the headwinds, DK’s got their eyes on a second location—family-friendly—and eventually an upscale space back in Jackson.

For now, they’re continuing to show Utahns that Chinese food is just as nuanced as any other cuisine—one where you wouldn’t scoff at spending $30+ per dish. They’re doing it one plate at a time.

If you’re ever in SLC, go visit Tim, Joe, and Sam. Be adventurous—throw back a bowl of noodle soup and dumplings even if it’s the middle of summer. Grab a pint of beer to cool back down. You won’t regret it.

DK’s got a hell of a story. 2026 is going to be a big year for them—follow along and support them on social media. Their Instagrams are below:

For this issue, we’re 86’d. Until next time, gang.

-Tong

P.S. Keep scrolling for DK recipe you can take home.

1 English Cucumber — Serves 2 to 3 (as a side)

Step 1 — Cucumber Prep

Step 2 — Make the Marinade & Toss

Step 3 — Finish and Serve