About
Setting the Table
I'm not a chef. I'm not an educator. So let's get that out of the way first.
Growing up, my dad was always thinking about the next meal — dinner would barely be over before we were already talking about breakfast, not out of anxiety, but devotion. He cared about maximizing every moment at the table, and I inherited that: the instinct to make every taste bud count.
My mom ran the opposite kitchen. She was precise, controlled — Martha Stewart in her own right — and there wasn't much room for mess in it. I understand why.
I've also spent years circling back to hospitality because of that instinct my dad gave me — starting with my first job as a waitress. I wasn't a great one. But I always knew I'd come back to food, in some form.
Now that I'm a mom myself, I've become passionate about letting my own girls experiment in the kitchen as often as possible — not to make them chefs, but to make food something they reach toward instead of away from.
That's Little Mixers. Three generations, three different relationships with food — devotion, control, and now curiosity.
That's not just how I want to raise my daughters. It's the whole reason Little Mixers exists.
Philosophy
Little Mixers isn't a nutrition class. It's not about clean eating or hidden vegetables. It's about kids getting their hands in the dough, meeting the people who make food for a living, and hearing their stories — how they fell in love with cooking, who taught them, what it means to them.
Each session is built around a local chef's own story, explored through touch, smell, and a little mess rather than recipes or technique. In a world where kids move from one activity to the next without pause, Little Mixers is built in contrast to a screen: a deliberate slow-down, a return to a village mentality around food, where the focus is the meal and the people in it.
Starting in Charlestown, we treat the neighborhood's real working kitchens and chefs like a playground — building community and bringing new business to local chefs during their slower hours.
“We aren't teaching kids how to cook. We're showing them the joy of cooking — and that joy is what translates into the how.”
The chefs bring the craft. I bring the reason it all exists — for my daughters, and for every kid who walks through our door.
LSozio
ArchiChef — not a chef, but the one who designs the experience and brings in the ones who are.