Patience Pays:
From Ape Movement to Café Reality

Leading with Love: On Faith, Food, and Finding Home at Silveria Cafe Con Pan—followed by a Founders’ Q&A featuring Alfredo and Kelly’s advice for fellow builders.

Shared Sensitivity

I have one sibling, my older sister Yvonne. She moves through the world with a reverence for culinary artistry—especially at the highest level, where every detail is considered, every note intentional. During her time in New York, she trained as a sommelier while working alongside Chef Daniel Boulud, learning to identify distinctions in aroma and structure that most people miss.

Where she refines through taste, I experience through frequency. Filmmaking and sound design sharpened something in me—the ability to register tone and pattern almost instantly. She swirls and sips. I see and sense. Different approaches, same sensitivity.

That shared awareness has shaped how we connect—not just with each other, but with the people we create alongside.

Her husband Bill is a chef, and the three of us have collaborated on several projects over the years, beginning with their first restaurant: Urbanbelly.

The First Signal

I remember the day they called me. I was in Los Angeles, just getting home. They were about to walk into a theater in Chicago to see The Dark Knight. Before the film started, they told me about the restaurant—the concept, the name, the leap they were about to take.

The moment we hung up, something opened. I felt their energy so clearly that I dropped into a state of pure creative flow. By the time they walked out of the theater, I had designed a logo and business card and sent it to them.

They hadn’t asked for it. It simply arrived.

To this day, we all remember that moment—not because of the design itself, but because of what it represented: alignment. A shared wave we were riding together, even from a distance. That same current carried them forward, eventually growing into multiple restaurant concepts over the years.

When Energy Recognizes Itself

I’ve come to recognize that feeling—the moment when someone’s intention is so clear, so grounded in heart, that it creates a kind of opening. When I meet it, something responds.

That’s what happened when my sister and Bill introduced me to Alfredo and Kelly.

They were preparing to open their first café and bakery in Puerto Vallarta, rooted in Alfredo’s connection to his aunt Silveria—her baking, her care, the memory of the baby chicks she raised. The café carries her name, but more importantly, her spirit.

When we first spoke, I could feel it immediately—that same clarity of intention.

Following the Signal

As Alfredo described the café, my mind began to fill with unexpected imagery—playful, cinematic. Baby chicks at the beach. Riding motorcycles along the coast. Flying vintage aircraft toward the shoreline, tiny helmets strapped on, committed to the journey.

It wasn’t my usual visual language, but the energy was clear. So I followed it.

I spent a couple of hours in that state, laughing to myself as the ideas kept unfolding. Eventually, I shared them, not knowing if they would resonate. Alfredo had created a more traditional logo—functional, direct.

But when Kelly and Alfredo saw the work, they lit up.

The same joy that moved through me while creating it met them fully on the other side. No resistance. No negotiation with ego. Just openness, curiosity, and a willingness to explore something new together.

Built on Openness

From there, everything moved quickly.

I guided Kelly through establishing their digital presence—securing a domain, building a website, and learning how to manage it independently. We then focused on visual storytelling, covering the fundamentals of food photography, manual 35mm shooting, and narrative-driven imagery.

I already sensed she was someone I could pour into without losing a drop. But she confirmed it when, as I began sharing my approach to food photography, she quietly pulled out a notebook and started taking detailed notes.

That was the moment.

She wasn’t just open to learning something entirely new—she was ready to act on it.

More than anything, she wanted to honor what her husband was creating. To share their food and their story in a way that felt honest and intentional. Photography was unfamiliar territory, but she met it with focus instead of hesitation. What could have been overwhelming became something else entirely, an extension of their care.

Arrival Without Friction

When I arrived in Puerto Vallarta the day before opening, it didn’t feel like stepping into something new—it felt like reuniting with old friends.

The café itself is modest. A small space with counter seating, a few outdoor tables, tucked into a local strip just minutes from the airport. Nothing about it is performative. The focus is on what matters: freshly prepared food, bread made with care, and a steady, welcoming rhythm.

And people felt it.

Refinement in Real Time

On opening day, there was a steady stream of locals and expats. A farmer arrived with freshly harvested vegetables as a gesture of welcome. Alfredo moved through the kitchen with quiet precision, serving food that reflected both skill and intention.

His focaccia quickly became a quiet ritual. Those who knew arrived early, rewarded with a piping hot loaf just out of the oven—simple, fragrant, alive.

From the start, there was also his morning immunity blend of fresh citrus, ginger, and a bright infusion of local pepper. Clean, sharp, invigorating. Not an addition—part of the foundation.

By midday, a pattern emerged. Expats, many from the U.S. and Europe, began arriving in larger numbers. They recognized something familiar in Alfredo’s approach: a French bistro sensibility grounded in freshness and restraint. Food they could return to daily. Food that supported how they lived.

Alfredo noticed.

By day two, he adjusted. A few breakfast dishes. Light, nutrient-rich plates that extended the morning into early afternoon. Nothing excessive. Just a natural continuation of what was already there.

It wasn’t a reinvention. It was refinement.

The Return

Then came the coffee.

Grown in the high-altitude mountains of Compostela, cultivated by small, experienced producers using careful, natural processes, it carried a clarity you could taste. Clean, vibrant, distinct. You could feel the work behind it.

And beneath that, something quieter, but just as present.

An awareness. The kind that comes from experience—from knowing when to stay the course and when to adjust without hesitation. Alfredo had already done it: listening, refining, expanding as the rhythm of the work revealed itself.

It wasn’t forced.

For those who have moved through enough, there’s a different way of responding. Less reaction, more recognition. A sense of what wants to become—and the willingness to meet it there. Sitting with that cup, something stirred.

It wasn’t a new idea. It was a return.

My work as a film director, supported by organizations like Women in Film and the ABC Fellowship, has always been rooted in the sacredness of the theatrical experience. From premiering my first 35mm short at the ArcLight theater in LA to developing new narratives, I’ve always seen "the story" as something that should live beyond the screen.

This philosophy led me to co-develop a small-batch cold brew concept, eventually exploring a collaboration with Milkadamia to merge culinary craft with world-building. So, when I saw AMC expanding its retail footprint, I recognized a moment where film culture and market energy were colliding in real-time.

I mocked up an AMC "Ape Movement" cold brew—a high-caffeine tribute to the retail investors who were essentially fighting to keep the lights on in the theaters I love. For me, it wasn’t just a product; it was a rapid-fire creative response to a historic shift in cinema culture. I have learned to trust my instincts, they don’t need permission.

The concept was playful.

I called it Dark Knight Truffle—a nod to the night my sister and Bill stepped into that theater when Urbanbelly was just beginning. The threads were already there. I just followed them. The label leaned all the way in: a silhouetted ape, headphones, sunglasses, set against red, black, silver, and gold. Irreverent. Symbolic.

It wasn’t meant to be serious. But it meant something.

The Milkadamia collaboration didn’t move forward, and the idea stayed with me—archived, but not forgotten. At the time, it felt unfinished.

Recognition

Sitting there in the café, tasting that coffee, I realized something simple:
It wasn’t unfinished.
It was early.

The Milkadamia concept art was completely right. It just needed to be matched with the place, the people, and the story it was always meant to serve.

Like everything else unfolding around it, the idea had taken its time. Not forced. Not revived. Just… ready.

Temporal Alignment

There’s a moment every creator encounters, the one where you realize not everything is meant to happen when you first imagine it. Some ideas require distance. Others require different collaborators. Most require growth you can’t rush.

What matters is staying present enough to recognize them when they return.

Alfredo expanded his menu within days, responding to the needs of the community around him. Kelly stepped into new creative skills she hadn’t yet claimed. My sister and Bill offered guidance shaped by their own path.

Each of us, in our own way, has learned to move with that timing. To trust it, even when it doesn’t make immediate sense. To respond to what’s in front of us, rather than force what isn’t ready.

Because real transformation works like that. It asks you to go through, not around. To release what isn’t aligned, and allow something stronger, clearer, more grounded to take its place.

This morning, I made a cup of coffee using beans they had brought back from a recent visit. And there it was again, that quiet recognition.

That cold brew idea had found its moment.

I reached out. And just like that, the thread picked back up.

Not everything that pauses is lost. What looks like something left behind is often something waiting to meet you again—when you’re ready, when the conditions are right. Some ideas need distance. Others need different hands. Most need time.

Faith, in that sense, isn’t passive. It’s participation, a willingness to trust that what is meant for you will return, not as it was, but as it was always becoming.

Right on time.

Silveria:
Making it Taste Like "A Long Time Ago"
A Conversation on Entrepreneurship with Alfredo and Kelly

Opening a business is rarely a straight line; it is a series of "stops and starts," a labor of love, and a deep dive into what it means to lead with heart. For Kelly and Alfredo, the founders of Silveria Cafe, the journey has been about more than just coffee and bread—it’s been about honoring their roots, trusting their instincts when the "safe" path didn't fit, and building a community that feels like home.

Yasmina: When you decided to open the cafe, what did your ”faith” actually look like in your day-to-day decisions, especially when things felt uncertain or unproven?

Alfredo: What kept me grounded was remembering these special places from when I was younger—those who knew so much, but bottled their ego up and sent it to the sea. What food used to be and what it is nowadays. I wanted to open a place to create community through food.

Kelly: Looking at challenges with a “can do” attitude. Once we made the decision, there was never for me a backing out—unless financially we weren’t going to be able to get it off the ground. In Hong Kong, the phrase “ok lah” was common and it has carried over to our endeavors here.

Also, remembering where we came from—mentors who are woven into the fabric of our dreams. Thinking of how they might approach the challenges and seeking guidance when feeling overwhelmed were both crucial, and still are, as we grow this labor of love. Lastly, Alfredo doesn’t have a quitter trait in him. And neither do I, so we approach challenges with that same mentality. We truly value our mentors and never forget our roots.

Yasmina: Was there a moment early on when you questioned the path, and what helped you move through that instead of stepping back?

Alfredo: Early on the path, I found myself thinking of Don Jito, a man who ran a tiny bread shop when I was growing up in Lagos de Moreno. He had this spotless case of pastries. Every time I went in, he was out of the specific piece I wanted, but he’d always charm me into trying another.

What stayed with me wasn't just the pasteries and breads; it was the fact that despite being a 'humble' operation, his case was always clean, full, and ready for the day. It reminded me that moving through doubt isn't about having all the answers—it’s about the quiet dignity of staying ready and remaining open.

Kelly: For sure, we had a few potential investors that fell through. Which was, of course, difficult. Ultimately, we were able to get the help we needed—a loan from my parents to make a dream come to fruition. They have always believed in Alfredo and this dream.

Also, from another perspective, I was not convinced that the location was going to work. But the more I thought about it, I realized that our favorite joints have generally been off the beaten path, but we always made the time to go because of the food and the feeling you get from the people operating it. Once you taste Alfredo’s food, it is unforgettable, and that is what keeps the good word spreading. He was never worried about the location; that’s the funny part. 

Without a doubt, the mentoring by you, Yvonne, and Bill were all of great assistance in birthing Silveria. (With all the stops and starts of the project, it literally took 10 months). So much about the time leading up to the opening and the conversations at the opening have kept us anchored in what we have control of.

Yasmina: How did you learn to trust your own creative instincts, especially when they differed from what might be considered the “safe” or traditional approach?

Alfredo: When people are comfortable, they come back and try the pastry that they didn't come for. Sure enough, getting my payback for Don Jito always running out of the item I came for. And passing that emotion on—the intention to buy something, it’s gone, but being convinced to buy something else.

Kelly: I had minimal photography skills when we began. But I was eager to learn and when you know it is going to be a hot minute before you can hire someone and  trust someone enough to capture the stories and images you want to reflect your work—you lean in, take copious notes, seek out the resources recommended.

It was about looking at the spaces where I already felt seen—with my kids, my girlfriends, or my students and noticing how my natural personality was welcomed there. Once I realized those 'personal' traits were actually my creative strengths, I stopped trying to find a 'traditional' voice and started trusting my own.

Yasmina: What role did your relationship (with each other) play in shaping the cafe, creatively and emotionally?

Alfredo: Kelly provides the emotional support that allows me to focus 100% on Silveria. She holds down the fort with our kids so I can do what I need to do. Creatively, she ensures the story of Silveria is shared with the wider community.

Kelly: I remember at our opening you (Yasmina) left me with a few gems, one being: lead with love and you can’t go wrong. How we care for each other, our boys, our family, friends, guests has been always and will always be, with love. Food as a love language and bespoke hospitality to make others feel the center of attention for a few moments is what we love to do.

The first year was especially hard as we lost Alfredo’s dad suddenly and tragically. I told Alfredo that nobody would blame him if he stepped away for a bit. Watching him maneuver that was a lot, and I know for a fact it has not been easy, but he made it look as though it was. Loving each other through those moments has made us an even stronger team. We met in 2006, so we’ve seen each other through some times and I’m so thankful. We give each other the gentle pushes when needed and the grace when appropriate.

Yasmina: Looking back, is there something you’re grateful didn’t happen sooner?

Alfredo: The growth of our community—our returning guests. We have learned who is here for the right reasons and trust people will find their way to us as we expand ideas.

Kelly: I’m grateful that guests gradually but steadily learned of Silveria Cafe Con Pan. We started with just Alfredo, Jerry, and I. If the brand would have grown quicker, we would not have been ready.

Yasmina: What’s something you’ve had to let go of—an expectation, an idea, or a way of working, in order to grow into this next phase?

Alfredo: I’ve had to let go of the idea that we can rely on the industry to produce healthy food. After losing people we love to heavily processed foods, we’ve decided to create a lab of our own. The values we hold at Silveria Cafe don’t always align with a capitalist, trend-driven society. We’ve moved past seeking what’s "popular" in favor of what actually sustains and nurtures our community.

Kelly: Mostly in terms of contractors and vendors—people don’t work the same as 10 years ago. There is a different work ethic. One of our non-negotiables is standards—food quality, the product we put in front of the guest. In general, when you have ideas and pitch them to others many will become excited, but you’ll find a lot of what we call “yeah, yeah... no” guys. So what do you do with that? Harness a real good bullshit detector. Not because you’ve become jaded, but because you value your time. And work needs to get done.

Yasmina: For someone who feels a strong creative pull but is still waiting for the “right moment,” what would you say to them?

Alfredo: Never lose the desire to share the emotion that is attached to what's on the plate. Make it taste like “a long time ago.”

Kelly: You have to jump and know that you have people that are rooting for you. Be confident in your work history and the networks you have built. You are never alone. 

Alfredo and I have immense appreciation for Team Silveria. Jerry has been with us since the very beginning and remains a true pillar of the cafe’s future. Chef Helena joined at a pivotal moment and has been a steady, grounding force ever since. Jorge continues to step in whenever needed, excelling across both beverage and food service, while Frida ensures each guest is cared for with genuine attention and warmth. And to Piedad—your honest work keeps our foundation in alignment.

We are so proud of the quality and pride every member of this team puts into their work. Your belief in what Silveria Cafe Con Pan is, and what it is becoming, truly never goes unnoticed.

Check out the daily specials @silveriacafeconpan on Instagram.