The Art of the Comeback: Chef Bryan Caswell

A chef’s reentry into the culinary orbit, particularly after a long absence, is a leap of faith that the old magic remains. But Bryan Caswell, whose name once hung above the clamor of Reef, isn’t about to leave his resurrection to the gods of nostalgia. His new kitchen at Latuli (8900 Gaylord Dr.) is a careful recalibration, not just a relit pilot light. Time away has helped Bryan – a two-time James Beard Award nominee for Best Chef: Southwest – refine his vision for a transformed culinary landscape. He understands that a successful comeback requires more than a famous name and past glory.

“You know, this is my 17th opening,” the West University resident says. “So, I’ve done it a few times, and I’ve made a lot of mistakes. Generally, I’m good about not making the same mistake twice.” 

LATULI In designing Latuli (the restaurant's name is a combination of her three children's names – Lawson, Tucker, and Lillie), Allison Knight drew inspiration from her family's Texas ranching traditions and chef Bryan Caswell's lifelong love of fishing. (Photo: Gensler)

A lieutenant for Jean-Georges Vongerichten, Bryan helped the renowned celebrity chef open restaurants worldwide, including the now-shuttered Bank in 2004 at Hotel Icon on Main Street. Three years later, Bryan left Bank to open Reef with restaurant veteran Bill Floyd in Midtown at a time when the fryer basket and butter-soaked scampi still defined the city’s seafood scene. Reef arrived like a sea breeze, with its modern, sophisticated yet thoughtful showcase of Gulf Coast bounty. 

But Bryan’s legacy is diverse and pure Houston, ranging from the creative, acclaimed Texan-Tuscan plates at Stella Sola to the exuberant preservation of Tex-Mex at El Real Tex-Mex Café. It also includes the everyday pleasures of beef sliders at Little Bigs and post oak-smoked brisket at Jackson Street BBQ. 

Alas, Stella Sola bolted its doors in 2012, followed by Little Bigs and then, El Real and Reef in 2019. The decision to close Reef was most complex because it was a retreat born not of failure, but of a quiet, unshakeable loyalty – his desire to care for his father, Michael Caswell, a man whose history as a successful wildcatter was as much a foundational piece of Houston’s lore as its petrochemical heart.

Menu items at Latuli include the market vegetables and herb salad. (Photo: Michael Anthony)

So, for the next six years, Caswell became a culinary gun for hire, lending his talent and knowledge until Allison Knight, the wife of his best friend, presented him with a roadmap back to his own kitchen. In late May, their new kitchen unfurled its sails on a plot where a Memorial-area institution once stood. Latuli, a restaurant emboldened by salty air and Gulf Coast catch, now occupies the space that was, for so long, the utilitarian domain of Gorman’s Cleaners – a delightful reminder that the most delicious culinary transformations can often take root in the most unexpected of places.

A true Southerner, born in the red clay of Lafayette and raised on the bayous of Houston, Bryan doesn’t waste time with small talk. This avid fisherman will be the first to tell you, with weary conviction, that in this sprawling metropolis, you get one shot. Houstonians are blessed with endless options. 

“But I’m not afraid of competition," he says, the words a low rumble in the polished quiet of his 130-seat dining room, tucked in Memorial’s Hedwig Village. The lunch rush is over. This hour-long window before happy hour, though quiet to an outsider, is a whirlwind of concentrated preparation for the staff. The front of the house resets the room for the evening. Silverware is polished, and linens are folded. 

One of her favorite items on the menu is the heirloom tomato salad with burrata, 1015 fried onion rings, and Russian dressing. (Photo: Hasan Yousef)

In the kitchen, choreographed responsibilities give way to focused intensity. Garde manger, prep cooks, and sous chefs are hunched over cutting boards, their knives making a rhythmic thwack-thwack as they slice vegetables and meats. This is the crucial prep time when they prepare sambal from scratch, simmer sauces, portion proteins, and organize the mise en place – everything in its place – to ensure that service runs smoothly. It is banal, yet essential toil. Without this, everything unravels. 

“This is the first kitchen I have ever had where everything is new. It’s always been scratched and dented, used. And this floor is my favorite thing. It’s got a grip and a bounce. It’s easy to clean, so it probably saves me an hour and a half of labor every day,” says Bryan as he crisscrosses through the galleys, passing frilly ribbons of Mafalda and orecchiette. “We make our own pasta. Here is a fryer with only tallow. It’s our gluten-free fryer, but also for our french fries,” says the 6-foot-5-inch-tall chef as he walks toward a warm, bright-faced blond. “This is my little sister Mary Charlotte, an incredible pastry chef.” 

Then, Bryan, the craftsman, gazes proudly at a gleaming stainless steel combi oven that utilizes dry heat and steam simultaneously. “This is the most expensive piece in the kitchen. It can do almost anything with the touch of a button. You can set it, walk away. It’ll bake bread perfectly.” His focus shifts from technology to people. He calls out to a stout man with merry eyes. “Meet Sal. Thirty-two years this guy and me. He was the first butcher I trained. He’s better than me now. Maria! She’s been with me for about as long.” Several staff members have previously worked for Bryan, including general manager Lauren Hernandez, and their shared history is evident in their silent efficiency.

Orecchiette with fennel sausage. (Photo: Frank Frances)

Then there is Allison, the rookie on paper, unburdened by a lifetime in the kitchen trenches. She is the creative force who arrived with a fresh perspective and profound, uncomplicated belief in Bryan’s talent – a conviction shared by her husband, Tucker, who was a minor investor in Caswell's previous concepts. 

“Bryan is a creative genius in the kitchen,” says Allison, who rattles off a list of favorite dishes without a moment’s hesitation. But ask the chef himself for recommendations, and you’ll get a pained, parental look.

“My top three?” she continues. “It would be the heirloom tomato salad because those tempura onion rings are the X-factor for me. You see tomatoes and burrata a lot, but you’ve never seen them paired with onion rings for that extra crunch and flavor. My two main dishes are the wagyu barbacoa and the crab cakes.” 

Bryan’s crab cake is not a binder-heavy fritter, but nearly a six-in-half-pound dome of sweet, tender jumbo lump crab fried golden brown. Jay-Z, who has the world at his disposal, and Beyoncé, for whom the world is a stage, found themselves in a corner of Reef, finishing off a stack of seven “legit” crab cakes. 

Charred broccolini, a dish with preserved lemon, drunken cherries, and house granola. (Photo: Frank Frances)

Throughout Latuli’s menu, longtime fans will spot a few familiar dishes. But Bryan doesn’t plan this to be a replay of Reef, El Real, and Stella Sola. “The truth is, I don’t think I can open a place without the crab cake. People would bug me about it. These dishes are not restaurant-specific. They’re a culmination of my life’s work. They include the pecan-smoked pork chop, the mussels, the market salad, the meatballs. Oh, the meatball mix is completely different. People say, ‘Oh, that so-and-so is from El Real, and that’s from Reef. However, these dishes have a long history. They are constantly being tweaked and perfected. The crab cake; it’s better. The recipe hasn’t changed. It’s more the technique.” 

When the time came to name the restaurant, there was an endless string of “nos.” It was Allison who finally came up with a moniker born not from market research or branding, but from a tribute fashioned from the first two letters of her three children’s names – Lawson, Tucker, and Lillie. Stories circulated that Allison attended the Culinary Institute Lenotre to prepare for her role at Latuli. But the fact was she “always loved to cook,” she says. “I wanted to entertain large groups at my house without stressing. It wasn’t until I was in school for a while that people in the neighborhood asked me in jest, ‘Hey, are you going to open a restaurant? There is a void in this area.’” 

Eventually, the idea took root. The former real estate professional contacted Bryan, who offered a dose of reality. He said, “It’s a lot of work. Not everyone is cut out for it.” Allison admits that this is the scariest thing she’s ever done, but now, joy has eclipsed fear: seeing her neighbors settle in and making Latuli a home away from home. The Hunters Creek Village resident’s goal of making Latuli feel at home succeeded a little too well. Many diners take this to heart, lingering at the cozy 50-seat art-laden bar for hours. With the ambiance of an upscale Pacific Ocean beach resort, the 50-seat patio is poised to become one of the city’s most sought-after outdoor destinations as Houston weather cools.

The spiced peach cobbler. (Photo: Hasan Yousef)

From his kitchen, Bryan has a panoramic view of the bar through a large cutout window and the dining room through another. Grand, dark metal lanterns cast a soft glow onto the leather banquettes and upholstered chairs in the main dining room. Eyes drift from large potted palms to the high, pitched wooden-beam ceilings. Pale walls serve as a refined backdrop to strategically place original artwork and rustic elements, such as a mounted deer above a stately fireplace. Natural light spills through floor-to-ceiling arched doors and windows, as well as grand wall alcoves covered with arboretum-themed wallpaper featuring green broad-leaf botanical motifs. The simple lines and curved forms commonly found in modern Spanish or Santa Barbara-style designs are incorporated throughout. Alfredo Paredes’s touches of old-world glamour and polished Americana are apparent. The esteemed New York-based designer hired by Allison is known for the luxurious yet relaxed aesthetic of Ralph Lauren Home, which he developed during his long tenure as chief creative officer. 

Meanwhile, in the bar, an afternoon ritual gets underway. Men in their earnest sport coats and women in chic, but practical, attire arrive with their wheeled bags chock-full of samples. The wine reps come, as they do on weekday afternoons after the last power-lunchers have ventured into Houston heat, to seek an audience with Jeb Stuart. A former executive chef, the revered sommelier is the quiet arbiter of taste, the one whose nod or shake of the head will determine which bottles from a distant vineyard (most likely Italian) will make it onto his thoughtful 100-bottle list, which strikes a balance between approachability and high-end selections. His choices are not merely a collection of vinos, but a curated conversation between the familiar and the deliciously obscure single vineyard.

“This guy is a magician,” says Bryan, pointing to Jeb. “He’s got the best palate in the city. He gets the first taste of every new dish I come up with because he’s not afraid to tell me I suck.” A nod from Jeb, for instance, sealed the fate of the now-popular duo smoked redfish dip with pimento cheese, and the seemingly simple yet complex snapper carpaccio, marinated in lemon catsup and dusted with a whisper of grapefruit powder. 

The first wave of happy hour celebrants stroll through the iron-and-glass doors, and Bryan's bearded face breaks into a satisfied smile. “They’ll start coming in now,” he says. “Typically, a restaurant is dead at this hour. We’ve been busy since we opened.” Despite years of a chef’s hustle etched around his eyes, the 52-year-old still finds joy in the daily discipline of his craft. An hour before dinner service, he retreats to the kitchen and picks up his Japanese fish knife. With deep concentration, almost meditatively, his blade slices into the delicate grouper flesh. It is a perfect, quiet act of preparation for a satisfied man who still believes in the simple alchemy of a knife and a fish.

A double dip of smoked redfish and pimento cheese with kettle chips. (Photo: Hasan Yousef)

Chef Bryan Caswell’s Signature Pimento Cheese

1 oz softened cream cheese
9 tablespoons mayonnaise
2 teaspoons apple cider vinegar
1 teaspoon Worcestershire sauce
1 teaspoon Crystal Hot Sauce
2 teaspoons granulated sugar
1 teaspoon Colman’s mustard 
1 teaspoon salt
¾ teaspoon black ground pepper
8 oz piquillo peppers
3 cups yellow cheddar cheese, shredded
3 cups white cheddar cheese, shredded 

Allow the cream cheese to come to room temperature. Place the cream cheese into a KitchenAid mixer with a paddle attachment. Add mayonnaise, apple cider vinegar, Worcestershire sauce, hot sauce, sugar, mustard, salt, and black pepper; mix well. Transfer cream cheese mix to a large bowl and fold in the piquillo peppers and both types of cheddar cheese. Store in refrigerator until ready to serve. Make 6 cups. 

Note: At Latuli, Bryan makes his mayonnaise from scratch for his pimento cheese. You can, too, to elevate this dish. He also uses artisan-grade cheddar cheeses, such as those from the Houston Dairymaids.