Leo Davila’s Apple Watch buzzed with a text message at 9:09 a.m.
Seated at Alamo City Barber College for his weekly buzz cut, Davila glanced down at a screenshot of names from the James Beard Foundation.
The list appeared below a headline in bold type, “Best Chef: Texas.”
The messenger, a fellow chef in Houston, wrote: “You made it!!!!” For a split second, Davila’s vision blurred. Goosebumps rose on his tattooed arms. Then he made a fist, gave a slight muscle flex, and wrote back, “Wow, I can’t believe it!”
Less than four years after opening Stixs & Stone, a Mexican-Asian fusion restaurant with only eight tables, Davila was named a James Beard Award semifinalist.
His mind raced in the barber chair, memories swirling. There he was in 2018, selling tacos at a farmers market bustling with customers, but he had only two: his mother and grandmother.
There he was at a taco truck throwdown, the only competitor serving out of a tent.
There he was, down to his last few hundred dollars, thinking he might have to go into another business.
And there he was, telling his instructor at culinary school that he was going to drop out because he wasn’t good enough.
But now? Now his watch and phone were blowing up with congratulatory messages.
Now he couldn’t wait to tell his staff. Leaning back with clippers buzzing up his neck, Davila settled into a dream, seated on top of the San Antonio culinary world.
He is one of 26 Texas chefs named as James Beard semifinalists for best chef in the state.
Other listed locals are Jennifer Hwa Dobbertin of Best Quality Daughter, Grey Hwang of Shiro Japanese Bistro, Emil Oliva of Leche de Tigre, John Ramos and Jonathan Reyes of Chika and Alex Sarmiento and Brenda Sarmiento of El Pastor Es Mi Señor.
Finalists will be announced on April 2, winners on June 16.
The James Beard Foundation released its list on Jan. 24.
The next day, a long line formed outside Stixs & Stone, a hole-in-the-wall on Wurzbach Road in Leon Valley. Squeezed inside a long row of small establishments, the restaurant is easy to miss. Told the wait would be more than one hour, customers did not turn away.
Perhaps no one was happier than Davila’s sister, Michelle McCall, the restaurant’s general manager. “I was beyond thrilled,” she said. “We’re a hotspot for people from all over the state.”
McCall remembers the lean times. The long hours. The scraps of business.
“I worked for tips,” she said. “It was struggle, struggle, struggle. Push hard. Push hard. Push hard. It was definitely humbling.”
Davila followed an unconventional path to success.
A 40-year-old San Antonio native, he did not begin cooking until his mid-20s. He got food poisoning after sampling one of his early dishes. The son of a Hispanic father and Chinese mother, Davila attempted to blend the flavors of two cultures in the kitchen, but struggled in culinary school. After an instructor persuaded him not to give up, he pressed on, earning a degree in culinary management from the Art Institute of San Antonio.
He went to work for a food manufacturer. With his sister’s help, he served as a weekend vendor at the Pearl Farmers Market. In 2018, he became a culinary chef at the school he nearly quit and opened his own business, a pop-up called, “Catch The Wave.” Davila, it seemed, couldn’t catch a financial break.
Within a year, he considered closing.
In 2019, without telling his sister, he decided to spend his final $400 to enter Taco Fest, a local competition. To his surprise, he won. Then he won two more cooking competitions.
Davila finished 2019 with a surge of optimism only for business to get slammed by the COVID-19 pandemic in 2020. He pivoted to backyard catering to survive.
The following year, he opened his first brick and mortar, Stixs & Stone. His signature dish, the Big Red and barbacoa taco flight, became an instant hit.
Corn tortillas infused with, yes, Big Red soda. Tasty barbacoa drizzled with strawberry jam and topped with salsa, queso fresco, pecan pesto and a pickled watermelon rind. Texas Monthly loved it. And a restaurant that offers a chicken and Hong Kong waffle dish landed on the magazine’s list as a top taqueria in Texas.
Business boomed. It boomed even more in 2024 when Texas Monthly named Big Red & Barbacoa the 8th best taco in Texas. “The phone has not stopped ringing,” Davila said.
Flush with business and awards, word spread that James Beard recognition was on its way. Davila waited on edge last year. Anticipation grew. Hope soared. Then came a gut punch: Stixs & Stone did not make the cut.
Davila reflected, asking himself a hard question: “Did I go from the love of cooking to chasing an accolade?” He resolved to pursue his first love — making good food — and returned to the basics. “I never want to go down this path again,” he told himself.
Meanwhile, all 35 seats at Stixs & Stone filled up. Visitors drove in from all over the state to try the No. 8 taco in Texas. People flew in from Australia and France. Customers savored the Mexican-style street corn and Korean fried cauliflower. They raved about the pan-seared duck breast with hibiscus mole.
Davila did not like mole growing up. As a chef, he wanted to know why. “Was it the chocolate notes?” he asked himself. “Was it the sesame notes?“ He eliminated ingredients he disliked, replacing them with those he loved. The process yielded suitable moles for his palate: hibiscus, pumpkin and pecan.
Davila is a UNESCO chef ambassador who loves to explore and experiment. Stixs & Stone, he explains, is not a blend of Mexican and Chinese dishes. It’s not carne guisada in an egg roll. It’s a fusion of Hispanic and Asian ingredients and techniques, a melding of two cultures served as a single presentation.
Davila and his staff served Hispanic-Asian fare at a festival in China last year. While there, Visit San Antonio invited the team to cook at a Platform by James Beard Foundation event at Pier 57 in New York. Davila’s team served a three-course meal that included hibiscus and pecan mole with duck.
The feedback from the James Beard staff floored him. “They said, ‘Oh wow, I’ve never had anything like that before,’” Davila recalled. “One of the chefs followed me on Instagram and sent me a congratulations note.”
Unbeknownst to Davila, inspectors from the James Beard Foundation visited Stixs & Stone over the next few months. Mental notes were taken. Observations made quietly.
Davila awoke on Jan. 24, knowing the annual list of semifinalists would be released. When his Apple Watch buzzed in the barber chair, he had no idea how life would change.
“It was mind-blowing,” said Stixs & Stone chef Hunter McCall, Michelle’s husband.
Davila does not know what to expect on April 2. Maybe he’ll be a finalist. Maybe he won’t. All he knows for sure is all the sweat and toil has been worth it.
Once he was serving Frito pie in a farmer’s market pop-up. Now he’s in contention for the top culinary award in America.
