Onnno

How did this place come about and what made it different from the start?
The idea was always meant to be a small space. At first, we imagined it more as a simple lunch counter. We made smoothies and sandwiches, and at the center there was a shared table where customers sat together. That table would fill up with plates, conversations, rush, and appetite. Sometimes it also brought a few awkward moments from sitting next to someone you didn’t know, but in the end it always worked out; a conversation would start, people would interact, get to know each other, and often become friends. Around that table, a very strong community began to grow. We love hearing when someone says, “We met at Onnno.”

Seven years ago, in 2018, Onnno was born as a space imagined for sharing the table. Over time more ideas arrived: the coffee machine, more dishes, bread, more hands, and more stories. Everything has evolved, but the intention remains the same: that whoever walks in feels at home.  

What part of the day, space, or creative process do those who work here enjoy the most?
In the bakery, the favorite time is between four and five in the morning. The street is quiet—no traffic, no noise. It’s a moment of deep concentration; the rhythm of the day hasn’t started yet, and you can work with clarity. At that hour everything feels cleaner, more focused.

In the restaurant, the first morning rush has something special—when we’re flowing, when the whole team is in sync. We really enjoy the preparation before service, that moment of getting mentally ready to begin, while the whole space smells like freshly ground coffee and breakfast prep.  

On Fridays we close the week at Onnno, and every Saturday feels like a new beginning. It’s motivation, but also a chance to let go of what didn’t go so well and improve. 

It’s important to us that the team absorbs the energy of the project. We always say that our first clients are our collaborators, because they know everything that happens behind each day and still choose to stay. They are an essential part of what we are today.

If someone is coming in for the first time, what should they not miss?
They should open their instincts. From the moment you arrive, you’re welcomed by the blue painting, a piece by Andrea Perales titled Whatever You Want, inspired by the weaving that this project has become and by all the parts that make it whole. The open kitchen and the movement of service are also part of the experience. Everything is carefully thought out, but without feeling rigid. 

It matters to us to know where every product and every piece we share with our community comes from—how it was made and who worked on it. Also the years behind every recipe and every decision. 

Visitors shouldn’t miss the visual details created by Mexican artists and painters: Marco Velasco, Rodrigo Treviño, TodoEverything, Raúl Herrera, Bolder, among others. 

More than a specific dish, what they shouldn’t miss is the intention. The purpose behind every corner. We are a kind of everyday lifestyle: coming for a slow breakfast, having a coffee alone, lingering at the table with friends, picking up bread for a family dinner, or ordering a cake for a birthday. In the end, what you shouldn’t miss is that—the moment, the present.

What has been an interesting challenge that has made you rethink something about the project?
Growth. We know it’s a good thing, but it has also been one of our biggest challenges. At the beginning, it was just the two of us running everything. It was a completely personal project. Everything depended on us and our rhythm. Over time it became more structured, bigger, and that meant letting go—letting go of control, delegating, trusting.

One of the most important challenges has been figuring out how to transmit the project’s DNA to new members of the team. How to immerse them in where everything comes from, why we do things the way we do, and the intention behind every detail. It’s not just about teaching processes; it’s about sharing a way of thinking and caring. 

Bringing in more people always comes with adjustments, conversations, and learning. It has been a constant exercise in trust. Letting go in order to move forward. And although it can sometimes feel dizzying, it has also been full of adrenaline, growth, and very good things. 

What influence, idea, or reference continues to shape the way you work today? 
The table. Since we were children, we grew up around the dining table, sitting for hours among conversations, laughter, long after-meal talks, and coffee with bread. That daily ritual of being together as a family. That’s where we understood that sharing food is a language of love.

Also the idea of hosting, of welcoming. We constantly return to those moments of warmth, of making someone feel special even through something ordinary. That guides us to do things well and in their own time, without rushing. To respect processes and listen to rhythms. And also the constant desire to be better than we were a couple of years ago—to grow from within without losing our essence. 

What place, project, or person has inspired you recently and why?
Lately, we’ve been very inspired by projects like the ceramic work of Perla Valtierra en la cerámica, o la forma en que Gabriela Cámara understands hospitality and the origin of ingredients. They inspire us because there is coherence between what they say and what they do. 

We are also inspired by our friends. We surround ourselves with creative people in our personal lives, and that inevitably nourishes the project—the conversations, the doubts, the desire to do things better.

In the end, we’re inspired by the environment around us: the people close to us who push us to grow, and the projects that convey passion, dedication, and consistency. They remind us that what matters is not doing more, but doing things with meaning.

If your space could invite someone to collaborate for a day, who would it be and what would you do together?
We would love to do something with Santiago Moctezuma from Maizajo. He works from corn and we work from wheat. It would be interesting to cross those worlds—experiment, taste, and discover something new from the origin. 

We would also love to invite Graciela Iturbide to spend a day at home. To cook for her, listen to her, talk about her life experience and her perspective on photography, have her work in the space for a day, and let it converse with the kitchen, the people, and the table. We love the idea of collaborations that mix conversation, craft, and sensitivity.

 Is there an object, corner or detail of the place that has a story that few people know?
We still keep our very first little oven. It’s stored in the staff hallway and, for us, it’s almost like an amulet. That’s where we baked our first olive oil cake and our first cookies. We didn’t have molds, so we used clay cups from Atzompa to bake. We improvised with whatever we had, learning along the way.

That little oven reminds us how we started: with very little equipment but a lot of enthusiasm. And even though the project has grown, we like keeping it as a living memory of that beginning. 

If this project were a city, a book, or a record, which would it be and why?
Onnno is many things at once. We draw inspiration from many places—from what surrounds us and from whatever excites us in each moment. This question is a bit difficult for us because the project changes, evolves, and is nourished by different stages. 

If it were something, maybe it would be a shared playlist. A mix of songs that accompany our everyday life: the ones playing while we bake in the early morning, the ones during the morning rush, and the ones for long after-meal conversations. Music also sets the rhythm of the space. 

Answers by Estefanía Álvarez  and Gustavo Coutiño from Onnno