Reyna’s weekly schedule is a glass filled to the brim. When we met at her restaurant in the Mueller neighborhood of Austin, I asked her how much time we had for the interview and she responded with a gentle smile: I freed my morning so we could chat. Reyna has been involved in the Austin service industry for almost two decades. Today, she is an accomplished businesswoman with a strong chef calling. We spoke about her formative years, the challenges of directing several projects and her negotiations around womanhood, career choices and her Mexican identity. While we chatted, her dad came to say hi, her mom worked the tortilla station and Veracruz Fonda slowly but steadily filled with customers. Sun rays glided through the restaurant and the music syncopated with the singing of birds from the terrace and cocktails shaking behind the bar. We sat under a mural of Maria Felix dressed in revolutionary garb. Whenever I asked personal questions, Reyna would glance at Maria in a gesture of kinship and camaraderie.

What do you remember from your childhood days in Mexico?
What I remember the most is helping my mom in the kitchen. My memories come from there. At one point in my teenage years, we lived in a very simple little house on a ranch, and I remember we had to make a fire to cook. We didn’t have utilities, no plumbing, no electricity. At that time, we started from the bottom. Our floor was dirt, we had no services, we had nothing. My mom would pull me along because I was the youngest.
How many siblings do you have?
There are three of us. I’m the youngest. My sister Maritza is the middle one—my business partner. And my brother is the oldest. Everyone went to school, and I stayed home with my mom to help her make the fire, cook the beans, and make handmade tortillas. I remember the smell of smoke, the blackened pots, and having to wash them. My dad was very adventurous; he would take us here and there, back and forth.
Were you in Veracruz?
Yes, we arrived in Veracruz at my grandmother’s house. My mom’s whole family is from Veracruz, from the port.
You describe that time with a sense of nostalgia, but I imagine it was difficult to live in those circumstances in Mexico.
Well, as a child, I always liked helping. I didn’t see it as hard work or tedious. I think it shaped the path that led me to where I am now. My sister loved school, but I didn’t enjoy being in a classroom. I was more artistic; I loved dancing, cooking, and creating from a very young age. Helping my mom made me feel in my element, very natural. Over time, my mom always tried to be an entrepreneur. She had a grocery store, jewelry shops, and butcher shops. She ran small food stands where she sold traditional snacks. In the mornings, she sold picaditas; in the evenings, she sold panuchos and tostadas. For her, it was a way to have her own business at home while taking care of us. At 15, I started a job separate from kitchens, selling books for a publishing company. I worked outside Veracruz with Maritza. Next year, we’re going to publish a book that tells many personal stories. It’s a cookbook with recipes, but it also includes a lot of personal family stories from Maritza and me.
How do you describe your work?
I do what I love, what makes me happy. I’m fortunate—it’s my greatest passion. My work is my baby. I never had children and won’t have them—that was a decision I made at a young age. But if you ask me what is most precious to me besides my family, my answer is my business, because I’ve watched it grow. It has been built with sacrifice, tears, and so much joy. So, for me, this business is like my baby. I wake up every day thinking about it.

When did Veracruz Al Natural start?
I started in 2006 alone, selling shaved ice. That was my first little trailer that I bought, but it didn’t work out, so I put it away. Two years later, I decided to reopen it with Maritza. Before reopening, I worked as a waitress. From the moment I arrived in Austin, I worked as a waitress at a taqueria on Cesar Chavez with Maritza. We didn’t work in the kitchen; we waited tables. In 2008, we started Veracruz. We saw how the food truck scene was growing—we were one of the first food trucks in East Austin.
Where were you located?
On Cesar Chavez, near a little store called El Aguacate, around where Bufalina is now. El Aguacate was a small grocery store, and the owner rented us a tiny space to park our food trailer.
In this journey of over 15 years, what has been your most fulfilling professional moment?
When I was finally able to take my mom out of work. Truthfully. She used to clean houses, and the chemicals were really harming her health. She has asthma. When we started the business, it was always with the hope that one day we could be financially stable enough so my mom wouldn’t have to do that kind of work and could have a better life. At that time, it was really hard for her to find a job because she was a woman. Today, there are more opportunities for women, but back then, I remember my mom would look for kitchen jobs, and no one would hire her. So, she had no choice but to clean houses. Years after opening Veracruz Al Natural, the business started becoming successful. It didn’t happen overnight—it took years. It was like running a marathon. When we finally told my mom she didn’t have to work anymore, she was so emotional. That has been my greatest satisfaction—helping my family have a better life. We fought to change our story because everything pointed to us never getting ahead. It was very helpful to see our dad being an entrepreneur. He had a car shop, he painted cars.
You talk about your dad in the past tense—is he still alive?
Yes, yes. My parents divorced when we arrived in Austin. Now, they’re still friends. I speak in the past tense because life in Veracruz and Mexico feels like a past story, and then we started a new one here in the U.S.
How did you feel about your parents getting divorced right after moving to the U.S.?
I saw it coming, but I didn’t expect it to happen so quickly. It was something I had to process as a teenager.

It sounds like you’ve had very impactful and formative experiences, yet you remained very grounded.
For me, it was a complete restart—a process of relearning so many things. It was a culture and language change. The environment was completely unfamiliar. My parents’ divorce was a family separation. I also had to adapt to a job I had never done before. I had to learn English on my own, and it frustrated me.
Speaking of translation, do you think Mexican food needs translation in the U.S.?
I always start with the story—where a dish comes from. If we’re talking about mole, we explain where it originates, the reason for its texture, and why we decided to put it on the menu. For me, it’s like telling a story through a dish.
How would you describe mole?
I would describe it as the most complex Mexican sauce—the mother of all sauces.
We talked about the matriarchal heritage in Mexican cooking and how that legacy is often lost in restaurants. After deciding not to have children, have you thought about who will continue your legacy?
That’s a good question. Yes, it could definitely be lost. My mom taught me the foundations of cooking and helped me find my path. But when I started a business in a country that wasn’t mine, I realized that I didn’t just love cooking—I also loved business, interior design, and involved myself deeply. I have a gift for them. I don’t consider myself an extrovert person. But the aspect of creating something from the ground up and seeing it work really calls to me. Deciding not to have children doesn’t bother me because it is a decision I took very young. I don’t have a maternal instinct, and I never have. Maybe in the future, I could adopt, but I don’t see it as something missing from my life. Who will inherit my legacy? I think about my family, the people who have helped me from the beginning—not just my immediate family but the people who have seen me grow and have helped me along the way. I think about my niece, whom I’ve taught a lot. But mostly, I focus on what I’m doing right now. Many people make decisions based on others, but I’m not like that. I think about what makes me happy at this moment.
Well, you do have a maternal instinct because you refer to the restaurant as your child.
Oh yes, yes, yes. But biologically, having children is not something I want. It was also a decision I made last year. I started having uterine problems that caused severe anemia. I talked to a doctor and told her I was ready to have my uterus removed.

After the difficult moments in your life, what certainties remain for you?
For me, life is uncertain; nothing is guaranteed. That’s why I say, right now, I enjoy what I have, but later, I might lose it. There’s always the possibility that things won’t always be good or bad. Life changes. We are changing every minute. So, accepting that is like accepting whatever comes and doing your best to be okay.
And from the mistakes you’ve made in life, what have you learned?
I’ve learned to be more humble. When I make mistakes, when I mess up, I accept that I’m human. I allow myself to make mistakes because I don’t like to be too hard on myself. I see mistakes as lessons. I learn a lot from them. I thoroughly analyze them carefully to avoid making the same mistake again—or at least not in the same way.
What lessons did you learn from your shaved ice business?
I learned that having a good business partner is very important. At that time, I was in a relationship with my business partner, and it was very difficult. When we separated, I decided to focus on work and start saving to reopen. I learned that you have to choose both your life and business partners wisely. A business is like a marriage—you have to be in sync. With my sister, it has worked out well, even though we have different personalities. We respect each other's space. A romantic partner or business associate can help you grow or bring you down. With my sister, it has been really beautiful. If either of us makes a mistake in a decision, we don’t blame each other; we take responsibility together and move forward.
And you have grown together.
Yes, yes, yes. She started another business selling products with another partner, and it’s going very well. It’s called Restaurant Box; they supply fruits, vegetables, and office supplies. Together, we are opening the mezcalería and working on the Leona project.
How did you adapt to life in the United States?
Despite the initial culture shock when I arrived, once I settled in, I realized that the U.S. suited my personality better.

How did you adapt to life in the United States?
Despite the initial culture shock when I arrived, once I settled in, I realized that the U.S. suited my personality better.
That’s a very interesting point, Reyna. I hear a tension between remembering the enriching parts of your past and redefining what it means to be a Mexican woman.
That’s exactly what I had to do. My family was very conservative, and I was always more liberal. I adopted many things I like about American culture. I love the idea of never settling, always growing, and not conforming. In Veracruz, I realized that I didn’t think like my schoolmates. I thought differently from them. I also wondered: Who makes the rules besides me? I came to the U.S. at 16, and I had friends who were already getting married or having children.
Do you make a distinction between your personal and professional self?
Yes, professionally, I am a perfectionist. But at home, not so much. I don’t go to extremes, but as a business owner, I strive for more perfection than in my daily life.
Does this pursuit of perfection affect your relationship with your sister?
No. She understands that business requires discipline because it carries a high level of responsibility.
How do you avoid holding professional grudges when things go wrong?
Being a woman in business comes with many injustices, but I don’t like to play the victim. This is the path we entrepreneurial women must take to pave the way for future generations. I see injustices as necessary for progress so that others don’t have to go through the same struggles. For me, it was crucial to accept from the start that bad things will happen. The food industry is tough, and there are many disappointments—betrayals, dishonest suppliers, envious people. But these things no longer surprise me. I know I can’t let small setbacks break me; I have to stay strong for my team. That doesn’t mean I’m not sensitive—if I find out I’ve been scammed, it affects me. But I also understand that it’s part of the business.
The paradox is that the most important thing in the restaurant business is people. And maintaining faith in people is difficult when you experience disappointments.
Exactly. Restaurants sell a product, but managing and trusting so many people is hard. And even if someone doesn’t have the best intentions for your business, you have to take that risk. Otherwise, you can’t grow.

Tell me about your relationship with dance.
Dance has been very important to me since I was a child—sports and dance. I’ve danced folkloric dance since elementary school, and in middle school, I played soccer. I also ran marathons. At one point, I studied at a dance academy, and I’ve always loved salsa. When I arrived in the U.S., especially when we started the business in 2008, we worked 24/7. My only escape was going salsa dancing once a week. After working all day, I would go to Ruta Maya to dance every Wednesday or Sunday. That’s where I met Austin’s salsa community. I was drawn to the live orchestra, salsa, merengue, and bachata.
What is your relationship with exercise?
For me, exercise is something that has to happen for me to function 100% mentally and physically. It’s something I need. I started exercising at a young age and trained for years to run marathons—both half and full marathons. I can’t run anymore due to an injury. It took me a long time to find something that filled that void. Now, I do weight training.
What can you tell me about your dog?
Emilio "the wolf" is my companion. On my sad days, he listens to me cry without saying a word—I feel like he understands me. I love him. We’ve been together for nine years. I adopted him when he was nine months old. His presence has brought me so much joy.
If you met a newly arrived immigrant at an airport, looking deeply overwhelmed, what advice would you give them?
That not everything is as people tell you—there are always other paths. Don’t let yourself be influenced by what you hear; live your own experience. Sometimes, we create ideas in our minds that don’t match reality, especially when arriving from Mexico. When I first got here, I didn’t leave my apartment for a week out of fear. Later, I realized that fear was completely irrational. So, the first thing I’d tell that person is that everything will be okay, that there are many paths, that they can do anything, and that there are no limitations.

Reyna Vazquez (english)

Esmirna Lazo (español)

Reyna Vazquez (español)