Chef Royce Lowery stands out as a unique figure, whose journey from an average student to a subtle epicurean is nothing short of inspiring. Food is an experience. Food is tradition. To Lowery, food is his art.
He attended the Chicago High School for Agricultural Sciences (CHAS), a selective-enrollment public high school designed to pipeline urban talent into agriculture and food sciences. However, Lowery never envisioned himself as a farmer. “It wasn’t the cool thing to do,” he chuckles, reflecting on the stereotypes CHAS students faced. “I didn’t see the value in agriculture the way I do now.”
Lowery’s transformation began in a food science class, where a hidden talent emerged. “Growing up alongside my great-grandmother, Eloise, I was always in the kitchen with her. That’s where I started cooking. But my food science class is where it all kind of came together,” he admits.
Before that class, the nuances of food preparation, food waste, and production were invisible to him. Looking back on his time at CHAS, he expresses gratitude, certain that he wouldn’t be the culinary artist and entrepreneur he is today had he attended any other high school. “I’ll be honest… I was nothing special academically. I failed biology twice. But after that class, I was in AP Physics and Honors Chemistry. Once I started cooking — putting the biscuits together or making the zucchini bread — it felt like everything fell into place.”
“Cilantro changed my life,” he laughs, recalling how he learned about genetic differences in taste preferences.
His classmates noticed his talent before he did. “Everyone always thought mine was the best. The aesthetic of food came naturally to me, then I ended up at Gallery 37. But food also became a wedge in my family relationships,” he explains.
At 16, Lowery was put out of his home and sought refuge with his grandparents, who had differing views on his culinary passion. While his grandfather was supportive, tensions grew with his grandmother as he explored more sophisticated techniques. He introduced dishes like panna cotta, chimichurri, and flank steak — met with mixed reviews from family members resistant to his modern approach. “I remember feeling like I was in a battle for the kitchen. The fire was too hot, and she wouldn’t let me cook in her kitchen,” he recalls, highlighting the generational clash between tradition and innovation.
Despite the challenges, his culinary IQ flourished. He honed his skills over four years at Gallery 37. While his grandmother was difficult to please, she did occasionally enjoy his cooking. “Affection was not her first or second love language, that’s for certain. But there were moments when she enjoyed my food. Looking back, I know she didn’t have the bandwidth or the words to support me, but I could see her gentle spirit come through from time to time.”
This journey has shaped Lowery’s creative process, often marked by self-doubt and a lingering need for validation from his family. “It’s a point of contention when they’re not around. I have this voice that questions my consistency and makes me feel like I’m never good enough,” he admits. Yet, this very struggle fuels his creativity, pushing him to keep innovating in the kitchen.
In his personal life, Lowery has found stability and support in his wife, Danielle, co-owner of Kaya Grill & Gyoza. Together for seven years and committed for five, he describes their relationship as organic and built on mutual respect. “It’s honesty, transparency, and consideration,” he says, reflecting on the foundation of their partnership.
With their five-year-old daughter, Phoenix, Lowery emphasizes the importance of fostering a nurturing environment—one that doesn’t impose undue pressure on her to excel.
As a chef, Lowery has cultivated a unique culinary identity, blending influences from various cuisines. His catering company, KGG, embodies this eclectic approach, showcasing flavors that merge Japanese, Korean, and Caribbean culinary traditions. He expertly weaves classical French techniques with Southern, French-Creole, and Caribbean influences, creating a fusion that is distinctly his own.
His bold flavor combinations are both intentional and reflective of his commitment to minimizing food waste—demonstrating creativity and sustainability in the culinary world. His kimchi gyoza, while inspired by traditional Chinese dumplings, exemplifies his fusion of classical French training with Southern French-Creole, Japanese, Korean, French-Canadian, and Caribbean flavors. This eclectic mix not only highlights his diverse culinary background but also reflects the rich tapestry of cultural influences shaping modern gastronomy.
Using dumplings, sandwiches, and beignets as vehicles for various fillings is a brilliant way to embrace sustainability and reduce food waste. “I wanted a simple menu with ingredients that had a lower price point and could be sourced locally,” he explains. Lowery’s affinity for grilling — particularly kushiyaki and yakitori — adds another dimension to his culinary repertoire. The simplicity of skewered meats allows him to highlight quality ingredients and refined technique, transforming them into both an art form and an engaging dining experience.
His desire to step away from traditional business models and embrace an artistic approach is commendable. It reflects a growing trend in the culinary world, where chefs prioritize creativity and authenticity over conventional expectations and profit margins. By recognizing that simplicity often speaks volumes — and that it’s impossible to cater to everyone — Lowery positions himself as a true artist in the kitchen, inviting diners to experience food as art.
Follow him @get_sauced_gyoza.
Dr. Mila Marshall is an environmental professional and journalist with a passion for advancing sustainability in all sectors. Her passion is directed towards urban food systems in segregated cities.