The Story

At Lelawatti’s, fondly known as lela’s kitch, we believe hunger extends far beyond the plate.
it is not only a physical ache, but a longing for connection.
a desire to be seen, heard, and nourished … in mind, body and soul.

Led by chef Nailah Amira Connell, whose work emerges from Afro-Caribbean lineage, migration, and memory, Lelawatti’s is an offering … where food becomes language and gathering becomes home.

the work we do is rooted in the understanding that good food and community belong to everyone.
each dish we craft and each gathering we host are offerings:
an invitation to return to the village,
to remember where we come from, and to honour the stories that brought us here.

through communal dining, curated experiences, music and storytelling, we preserve and elevate afro-caribbean culture while cultivating a renewed sense of kinship. our vision is to ignite a transcontinental movement — one where food becomes a bridge across cultures, and every table holds space for healing, joy, and belonging.

at its core, lelawatti’s is a reminder that nourishment is not only about sustenance, but also about community. it is about preserving the legacy our ancestors left behind while crafting new pathways for those still to come. it is about standing firmly in the belief that I am my brother’s keeper, and that every shared meal has the power to restore the village spirit in us all.

and here’s a little secret we’ll let you in on:
lelawatti’s was born from a personal need I carried for a long time.

it is for anyone who have ever left home in search of betterment — at the cost of the belief that no man is an island. for the girls and boys who grew up on island time and never missed Brandon’s beach more than their first semester of college. for those accused of contributing to the “brain drain” simply for wanting more.

lelawatti’s is for everyone who stayed up through finals week, carrying the quiet weight of sacrifice.

for anyone who missed the food at granny’s table,
pitching marbles on warm summer nights,
the slap of dominoes against wooden tabletops,
a shop lime or bus crawl,
easter picnic —
and definitely Sunday lunch.

What We Believe

we believe food is more than sustenance.
it is a way of remembering, connecting, and coming home to ourselves and one another.

at lelawatti’s, our work is rooted in afro-caribbean culinary heritage and carried forward through story, sound and communal dining. every gathering is an offering — made with care, intention, and respect for what came before.

we cook to remember.
we serve to honour.
we gather to heal.

we imagine a world where food becomes a shared language — where recipes, rhythms, and stories move freely across borders. where tradition meets the present with reverence, not revision.

this work is not about growth for its own sake.

it is about inheritance.

passed gently, hand to hand.

What Guides Us

intention
nothing here is rushed or accidental. we move deliberately.

care
for the food, the people, and the spaces we gather in.

slowness
time deepens flavour. it also deepens connection.

nourishment
we feed bodies and tend to spirit.

community
the table is shared. always.

memory
recipes are records. meals carry history forward.

The Name

Lelawatti’s is both a name and an invocation.
It carries softness and strength. The sound of lineage. The cadence of prayer.

It is spoken in gratitude, and it reminds us that identity is not something we invent—it is something we remember. Every project, post, plate, and playlist bearing this name is asked to echo its essence: warmth, truth, reverence, and rebellion.

This is not a change. this is not imagined.

It is personal … a reveal.

Lelawatti’s holds the vision I return to whenever I speak about food: community. Food, for me, has always been a way of gathering — of learning, sharing, and remembering together. It is how we come into relation with one another.

The name comes from my nana.

Like many women before her, she started over. Marriage, family, a new life — along with the quiet surrender of parts of her heritage, including her name. And yet, what she held onto, she carried forward through food.My childhood was shaped in her kitchen. The rhythms of her cooking, the care in her hands, the way food became memory before I ever had language for it. Those moments quietly charted my path.

While I am, and will always remain, a Chef in my own right, the food I make comes from her kitchen.

Lelawatti’s is an offering in her honour. A way of carrying her name forward. A way of saying thank you.

How This Work Shows Up

Lelawatti’s lives at the intersection of food, culture, and education.

It shows up as meals shared around long tables and intimate gatherings held with care. As recipes rooted in Afro-Caribbean tradition, reimagined for the present moment. As playlists that set the rhythm, stories that carry memory, and spaces designed for connection.

This work takes many forms:

communal dining experiences,
private gatherings and collaborations,
curated menus and seasonal offerings,
and moments of learning — both formal and informal.

Sometimes it looks like a supper club.
Sometimes a quiet dinner.
Sometimes a recipe passed hand to hand, or a conversation that lingers long after the plates are cleared.

However it appears, the intention remains the same:

to cook with reverence,
to gather with care,
and to create spaces where people feel nourished, seen, and at home.

Lelawatti’s is not just something you consume. It is something you enter.