Sergios Cuban American Kitchen
Our mission is simple: Love is Food, and Food Inspires Dreams. This is the story of Sergio's and how we got to live our American Dream. It starts with two Cuban women. My grandmother, Maria Elsa, left Cuba with her two daughters and the recipes she grew up on. In Miami, she took a job in a factory making window screens — no English, no shortcuts, just resilience. Her daughter, my mother Blanca, watched her work those long hours and decided to do something about it. There was a small sandwich shop in Miami-Dade that had opened in 1975 and changed hands more times than anyone could count. In the 1980s, Blanca bought it. She didn't do it to build an empire. She did it to get her mother out of that factory and to cook, for her community, the food they remembered from home. The shop already had a name: Sergio's. They kept it because it was easy to say in English, Spanish, and Italian — a name that didn't draw lines. They had no restaurant experience, so they cooked from memory. And when the kitchen got too hot or the bills too high, one of them would slip into the storage room to cry, wipe her face, and walk back out to keep the doors open. That's how Sergio's was built — one shift, one meal, one quiet act of courage at a time. Fifty years later, we're a third-generation family business and an institution for Cuban American food in Miami, known for my grandmother's Cuban comfort food, my mother's sazón and croquetas, and my healthy La Flaca menu. We cook with one philosophy: keep it simple, fresh, and homemade — letting the ingredients stand out. Ropa vieja, black beans, maduros, croquetas, empanadas, tequeños — Cuban staples cooked the way our family always has, with soul and with love. Now we get to share them with your table. We're so grateful to be there. — Carlos Gazitua, third-generation owner
Our mission is simple: Love is Food, and Food Inspires Dreams. This is the story of Sergio's and how we got to live our American Dream. It starts with two Cuban women. My grandmother, Maria Elsa, left Cuba with her two daughters and the recipes she grew up on. In Miami, she took a job in a factory making window screens — no English, no shortcuts, just resilience. Her daughter, my mother Blanca, watched her work those long hours and decided to do something about it. There was a small sandwich shop in Miami-Dade that had opened in 1975 and changed hands more times than anyone could count. In the 1980s, Blanca bought it. She didn't do it to build an empire. She did it to get her mother out of that factory and to cook, for her community, the food they remembered from home. The shop already had a name: Sergio's. They kept it because it was easy to say in English, Spanish, and Italian — a name that didn't draw lines. They had no restaurant experience, so they cooked from memory. And when the kitchen got too hot or the bills too high, one of them would slip into the storage room to cry, wipe her face, and walk back out to keep the doors open. That's how Sergio's was built — one shift, one meal, one quiet act of courage at a time. Fifty years later, we're a third-generation family business and an institution for Cuban American food in Miami, known for my grandmother's Cuban comfort food, my mother's sazón and croquetas, and my healthy La Flaca menu. We cook with one philosophy: keep it simple, fresh, and homemade — letting the ingredients stand out. Ropa vieja, black beans, maduros, croquetas, empanadas, tequeños — Cuban staples cooked the way our family always has, with soul and with love. Now we get to share them with your table. We're so grateful to be there. — Carlos Gazitua, third-generation owner
