THE STORY NO ONE HAS TOLD YOU
In 2005, Artemio Vasquez arrived in New York with a dream and empty hands. His first job at Pegu Club was washing glasses, mopping floors, doing the work no one else wanted. When his hands cracked from ice and soap, he thought about Oaxaca. He thought about his family. He thought about why he'd crossed the border.
But something magical was about to happen.
In 2007, Audrey Saunders—the woman The New York Times would call the creator of "the most significant cocktail of the decade"—did something unprecedented. She invited Vasquez, a barback, to "Cocktails in the Country," a sacred course reserved only for master bartenders.
He was the only barback in the course's history. The only one.
"Audrey saw something in me that I didn't see in myself yet," Vasquez recalls, his eyes glistening. "She was telling me: 'You belong here. You're one of us.'"
By 2008, The New York Times would publish his name—not once, but twice. By 2010, his recipes would be immortalized in The PDT Cocktail Book, the holy text of modern cocktailing. By 2026, he'd own his own restaurant in Queens.
But this is only half the story.
In 2017, a lawyer named América Rodríguez was walking through Jackson Heights when she saw a restaurant under construction. Something in her heart said: "Go inside." She had no professional kitchen experience. She only had her mother's hands guiding her from memory, the recipes of El Rosario, Sinaloa, engraved on her soul.
"Do you need help?" she asked.
Those three words would change Mexican food in New York forever.
This is the story of two immigrants who didn't just survive in New York. They triumphed. They didn't just work in restaurants. They revolutionized them. They didn't just cook and mix. They created legacies.
And now, finally, they're working together.
WHY THIS STORY WILL BREAK YOUR HEART (AND THEN FILL IT WITH HOPE)
Because no Mexican restaurant in America has this story.
Imagine this: A boy from Oaxaca washing glasses at the world's best bar. A lawyer from Sinaloa who'd never worked in a professional kitchen. Both faced the same questions that haunt every immigrant:
Am I enough?
Can I make it here?
Will they see me for who I really am?
Twenty years later, Artemio Vasquez has recipes in history books. He's been trained by the three most sacred names in modern mixology: Audrey Saunders, Jim Meehan, Sasha Petraske. The New York Times, The New Yorker, Los Angeles Times—they all wrote about his genius.
Chef América Rodríguez took her mother's recipes—recipes that were never in books, only in the heart—and turned them into a movement. The New York Times devoted a full restaurant review to her cooking. Edible Queens told her transformation story. New Yorkers lined up for blocks to taste her aguachiles.
But here's what will break your heart: When Sinaloan customers walk into her kitchen, they cry. They tell her: "You're the only restaurant where we feel like we're home."
That's not just food. That's love. That's memory. That's home.
And now, in Woodside, Queens—not trendy Manhattan, not hipster Brooklyn, but Queens—these two titans have joined forces.
This isn't just a restaurant. It's the American dream with the flavor of lime, chile, and mezcal.
PART I: THE BOY WHO WASHED GLASSES AND DREAMED OF STARS
Oaxaca to New York: When the Dream Seemed Impossible
Artemio Vasquez was born in Oaxaca, the birthplace of mezcal, the spiritual heart of Mexican cuisine. He grew up surrounded by tradition, by his mother's hands making tortillas on the comal, the smell of clay pots simmering with mole, grandmothers who knew every secret of the kitchen.
His father was a teacher for more than 50 years. A man who believed in education, in excellence, in doing things the right way.
"My father used to always tell me: 'If you do something, you have to do it with vocation,'" Vasquez recalls, his voice warm with memory. "He taught children for five decades. Now I teach through hospitality, through craft, through making people feel seen. His lesson lives through every cocktail I make with precision, every guest I serve with love."
His mother made tortillas by hand every single day. On the comal, with clay pots, the old way. She never cut corners. And neither will he.
But Vasquez hungered for something more. Not just success, but mastery. Excellence. Becoming someone his parents could point to with pride—even from heaven.
In 2005, he arrived in New York. He got a job at Pegu Club. As a barback.
If you don't know the bar world, let me explain: a barback is invisible. They cut limes. They clean spills. They haul ice boxes that weigh more than broken dreams. Nobody sees them. Nobody remembers their names.
But Vasquez didn't come to New York to be invisible.
The Day Everything Changed: The Impossible Invitation
Pegu Club wasn't just a bar. It was a temple. Esquire named it "Best Bar in NY." Tales of the Cocktail crowned it "World's Best Bar." It was where legends were born.
And Audrey Saunders—the high priestess of this temple, the woman The New York Times would call the creator of the most significant cocktail of the decade—was watching Vasquez.
She saw him stay after his shift, watching bartenders measure every ingredient with surgical precision. She saw him ask questions. She saw him dream.
Then she did something she'd never done before.
"Cocktails in the Country" was Gary Regan's course, a legendary program reserved exclusively for master bartenders. Never, in its entire history, had a barback been invited.
Until Artemio Vasquez.
"When Audrey told me, I couldn't believe it," Vasquez recalls, his voice still trembling with the emotion of the memory. "I thought she was joking. Me? The guy who washes glasses? Sitting next to the world's best bartenders?"
But Audrey doesn't joke about talent.
"She looked me in the eye and said: 'Artemio, you have something special. Don't waste it.'"
Those words changed everything.
Within months, Vasquez wasn't washing glasses. He was training new hires. The student had become the teacher. The invisible had become unforgettable.
PDT: Where Dreams Become Immortal Recipes
While still at Pegu Club, Vasquez joined the opening team at Please Don't Tell—the legendary speakeasy accessed through a phone booth in a hot dog shop.
Under Jim Meehan, he helped create the menu that would define modern cocktailing. And when The PDT Cocktail Book was published—the Bible of modern mixology—there they were: multiple original Vasquez recipes.
Rose-Infused Plymouth Gin. Hibiscus-Infused Bernheim Wheat Whiskey.
His name. In permanent ink. In permanent history.
"When I saw my name in that book, I called my mother in Oaxaca," Vasquez says, wiping away tears that still flow after all these years. "I told her: 'Mom, I made it. I'm in a book. Our last name is in a history book.'"
The Year the World Noticed: 2008
At Yerba Buena, Vasquez finally got his chance to create his own program. He was young. He was an immigrant. He was a former barback.
But he was brilliant.
The New York Times (September 7, 2008): "Pisco and Yerba Mate is an eye-opening mix."
The New York Times (September 24, 2008): Called his cocktail list "a knockout" and wrote that "everything tastes good while sipping a Poquito Picante."
The New Yorker (November 10, 2008): Wrote about Vasquez's "infectious conviviality," how he and his team demonstrated cocktail techniques and shared tastings with anyone who showed genuine interest.
Los Angeles Times: Quoted him saying: "We're serving 60 to 70 pisco drinks on weeknights and even more on the weekends."
Two New York Times features in one month. For a bartender in his twenties. For an immigrant. For a former barback.
It was like a fairy tale. Except it was real.
The Poquito Picante: The Cocktail That Became a Movement
Gin. Cucumber. Cilantro. Jalapeño. Cointreau. Lemon.
In the wrong hands, just ingredients. In Vasquez's hands, liquid magic.
The Poquito Picante became legend. The Jewish Link published the recipe. Mezcal Culture called it inspiration for an entire generation of mezcal mixology. Food bloggers wrote that it "changed my entire outlook on cocktails."
But for Vasquez, it was always more than a cocktail.
"When someone drinks a Poquito Picante, they're tasting my journey," he explains. "The cucumber is as fresh as my dreams when I arrived here. The jalapeño is the fire that never let me quit. The cilantro is my grandmother in Oaxaca. Every ingredient has a story. Every sip is a memory."
Three Masters, One Soul
At The Lambs Club (2010-2011), Vasquez trained under his third and final master: Sasha Petraske, the legendary founder of Milk & Honey, the man who helped birth the entire craft cocktail movement.
Three masters. Three philosophies. One soul absorbing it all.
"Audrey taught me that every detail matters—the temperature of the ice, the angle of the pour, the sound of the shaker," Vasquez reflects. "Jim taught me that a cocktail must tell a story, must create a moment people never forget. And Sasha... Sasha taught me the most important thing of all."
He pauses, choosing his words carefully.
"He taught me that hospitality isn't about impressing people. It's about making them feel seen. Valued. Loved. Because I know what it's like to be invisible. And I swore that no one who walks into my bar would ever feel that way."
This trinity of mentorship is almost unheard of. Training under one legend is extraordinary. Training under all three is historic.
The Pioneer: Before Instagram Existed
By 2014, Vasquez was breaking new ground at BPG Hospitality Group. At Tacuba Cantina Mexicana, he did something no one had seen before.
He served cocktails in whole pineapples. In entire watermelons. In fresh coconuts.
DNAinfo (September 2014) featured his theatrical creations, years before Instagram made such presentations ubiquitous.
"People think it was just to look good," Vasquez says with a knowing smile. "But there was a deeper purpose. I wanted people to feel like children again. I wanted their eyes to go wide. I wanted them to say 'wow!' before they even tasted the drink."
"Because that feeling of wonder—that's what I felt the first time I walked into Pegu Club. And I wanted to give that to everyone else."
The Showman: Creating Liquid Magic (2020)
At Dolly Varden, Vasquez elevated theater to pure art.
Eater NY (February 7, 2020) featured his "Witch of the West Side"—a tequila and mezcal drink finished with a giant liquid smoke bubble that released citrus aromas when it popped.
People recorded videos. Shared on social media. Brought their friends just to watch the bubble burst.
But for Vasquez, every bubble was a reminder.
"When I was a barback, I was invisible," he says quietly. "Now I create moments people never forget. That's my revenge. But it's also my gratitude."
From Employee to Owner: The Leap of Faith
In 2017, Vasquez took the scariest leap of his life. He co-founded Poquito Picante in Brooklyn—his first restaurant ownership.
"I went from having nothing to having my name on the door," he recalls. "My mother cried when she saw the picture. My father, who'd never left Oaxaca, told me: 'Son, you did it. You really did it.'"
By 2022, after managing bar programs at The Tin Building by Jean-Georges (the $194.6 million Seaport culinary marketplace), he was ready for his masterpiece.
He opened Ay Guey NYC in Woodside, Queens.
Not in Manhattan where everyone would expect. Not in Brooklyn where it's easier.
In Queens. Where immigrants like him live. Where families work hard and dream harder.
"Queens accepted me when I arrived with nothing," he explains. "Now it's my turn to give something back."
Twenty years of training. Twenty years of blood, sweat, and tears. Twenty years building toward this moment.
But he still needed the perfect chef. Someone who understood the weight of carrying tradition. Someone who knew sacrifice. Someone whose story was as powerful as his.
He called América Rodríguez.
PART II: THE LAWYER WHO FOUND HER TRUE CALLING
El Rosario, Sinaloa: Where Legends Are Born
Chef América Rodríguez was born in El Rosario, Sinaloa—a mining town once rich in silver, now rich in culinary tradition. The birthplace of aguachiles, where the Pacific kisses the land and seafood is religion.
She grew up watching her mother cook. Hands that had been passed down through generations grinding chiles, marinating shrimp, creating the dishes that defined Sinaloa's coast.
"My mother never measured anything," Rodríguez recalls, her eyes distant as if she can see through time. "She cooked from the heart. A pinch of this. A handful of that. And somehow, it always tasted perfect."
But Rodríguez didn't become a chef. She became a lawyer.
"In Mexico, being a lawyer is respectable," she explains. "Chef—that's what mothers do at home. It wasn't seen as a profession."
She built a career. Won cases. Met everyone's expectations.
Except her own heart's.
The Day Fate Knocked on the Door
It was November 2017. América Rodríguez was walking through Jackson Heights, Queens, thinking about her life, her choices, the emptiness she felt even when she was winning.
Then she saw it. A restaurant under construction. Something pulled at her—not from her mind, but from somewhere deeper.
She walked in. Workers looked at her, confused. This well-dressed woman in a dusty construction site.
"Do you need a chef?" she asked.
The words came out before her brain could stop them. She didn't even know why she was saying them.
"I'd never worked in a professional kitchen," she admits, shaking her head at the memory. "Not a single day. I didn't know anything about kitchen orders, or stations, or serving 100 people in one night."
She pauses, her eyes bright.
"But I knew how to cook from the soul. I knew how to make people feel loved through food. Because that's what my mother taught me."
They hired her.
And she changed Mexican food in New York forever.
The Dish That Made the City Cry
Aguachiles.
For most New Yorkers in 2017, the word meant nothing. But for anyone from Sinaloa, it's everything. It's childhood. It's Sunday family. It's the taste of home.
Raw seafood—shrimp, fish, scallops, octopus—quickly marinated in lime juice, fresh chiles, crisp cucumbers, red onion. All mixed in the moment, so fresh you can taste the ocean.
• Verde: Bright with serrano chiles, alive and spicy
• Rojo: Deep with Clamato, nostalgic and bold
• Negro: Dark with habanero, for the brave
• Mixto: A symphony of all Pacific seafood
Rodríguez prepared them exactly as her mother taught her. No shortcuts. No fusion. No "modernization."
Just truth.
New Yorkers lined up. Tasted their first aguachile. And many cried.
"Sinaloan customers would come in and couldn't speak," Rodríguez says, her own voice breaking. "They just hugged me. Told me: 'Sister, this tastes exactly like home. Exactly.'"
"An elderly man came once, tasted the aguachiles, and cried for ten minutes. He told me he hadn't tasted this flavor since he left Sinaloa 30 years ago. That I'd given him back a piece of his mother."
That's not just cooking. That's love made edible.
Edible Queens: The World Takes Notice
Edible Queens (2017) published a full profile on Rodríguez's journey. From lawyer to pioneering chef. From formal suits to chile-stained aprons. From courtrooms to steam-filled kitchens.
The article quoted Sinaloan customers telling her: "You're the only restaurant where we feel like we're home."
Think about that. In a city of eight million people, in a city with thousands of Mexican restaurants, she was the only place where they felt at home.
"When I read that, I knew I'd found my true purpose," Rodríguez says. "I wasn't just serving food. I was preserving memory. I was honoring my mother. I was giving my people a piece of what we left behind."
The New York Times: The Validation That Changed Everything
On February 15, 2018, Ligaya Mishan of The New York Times published a full restaurant review.
Rodríguez remembers exactly where she was when she read it.
"I was in the kitchen, prepping for service," she says. "Someone showed me their phone. I saw my name. In The New York Times. The most important newspaper in America."
"I had to sit down. I couldn't breathe. I thought about my mother in Sinaloa, who never learned to read English, but who taught me everything I know. I thought: 'Mom, we did it. Your recipes are in The New York Times.'"
Mishan wrote that Rodríguez's chilorio was a "beautiful ruin" with texture that was "the wonder"—meat "juicy and yielding and then holding back, with buried knots of crunch." She called it "delicious" and "reason alone to come."
She wrote that her frijoles puercos were "possessed by chipotle."
That her machaca was "flagrantly meaty and concentrated."
Every word was validation. Every praise was vindication of the choice she made that day when she walked into a construction site and asked if they needed help.
The Revolution Becomes a Movement
Eat the World NYC began following her from restaurant to restaurant. Every time she moved to a new kitchen, fans followed.
The blog called her the chef who "broke New York" with authentic Sinaloan cuisine. When they tasted her chilorio at a different restaurant, they wrote it was possibly "even better than that version that broke New York City back in 2017."
She wasn't just cooking. She was changing the entire landscape.
Now, coastal Mexican seafood is everywhere in NYC. Aguachiles appear on Manhattan menus. Hipster chefs try to "reimagine" Sinaloan cuisine.
But everyone knows who started the movement.
América Rodríguez. The lawyer who became legend. The woman who brought the flavor of Sinaloa to eight million hungry souls.
Beyond Aguachiles: The Complete Repertoire
Rodríguez's genius doesn't stop at aguachiles. She masters the entire Sinaloan coastal repertoire:
Chilorio: Pulled pork in red chile sauce, slow-cooked for hours, then crisped in lard until the edges turn candy-like. The New York Times called it "stained red, shading from carmine to vermilion, and a beautiful ruin."
Frijoles puercos: Beans that are "almost more pork than beans," embedded with bits of chorizo, "possessed by chipotle," as the Times wrote.
Machaca: Dried beef pounded in a mortar until it becomes almost airy, then pressed in a hot pan with egg, creating something "flagrantly meaty and concentrated."
Every dish made with her mother's hands guiding her from memory.
Every recipe a love letter to Sinaloa.
Every bite a bridge between two worlds.
The Call That Would Change Everything
In 2022, Rodríguez's phone rang.
It was Artemio Vasquez.
"Chef," he said. "I'm opening a restaurant in Queens. I need someone who understands what it means to carry tradition. Someone who knows what it costs to leave everything and bet on yourself. Someone whose cooking has soul."
"I need someone like you."
Rodríguez didn't answer immediately. She thought about her journey. About that day when she walked into the construction site. About every customer who'd cried over her aguachiles. About her mother in Sinaloa, whose hands she'd turned into legacy.
"Where?" she finally asked.
"Woodside, Queens."
She smiled. Not Manhattan. Not Brooklyn.
Queens. Where immigrants live. Where families eat together. Where authenticity matters more than trends.
"When do I start?" she said.
PART III: WHEN TWO WORLDS BECOME ONE
The Impossible Convergence
Think about what this partnership represents.
A barback who became a cocktail legend, trained by the holy trinity of modern mixology, with recipes published in history books and features in the world's most important newspapers.
A lawyer who became a culinary revolutionary, who changed NYC's entire Mexican food landscape, who received a full New York Times restaurant review for cooking with her mother's heart.
Both immigrants. Both took the hardest path. Both refused to compromise their vision.
And now, in a small space in Woodside, Queens, their worlds collide in perfect harmony.
The Bar
Led by someone who spent 20 years learning from Audrey Saunders, Jim Meehan, and Sasha Petraske. Who was the only barback in history invited to a masters-only course. Who has recipes in The PDT Cocktail Book. Who pioneered theatrical presentations before Instagram. Who knows exactly how to make every guest feel seen, valued, loved.
The Kitchen
Led by someone who brings her mother's recipes from El Rosario. Who received a full New York Times restaurant review. Who started the coastal Mexican seafood movement. Who makes people cry with her aguachiles. Who cooks not just with skill, but with soul.
There's no other Mexican restaurant in America—maybe in the world—with this combination of credentials, history, and heart.
The Philosophy: Love Made Visible
Vasquez designed Ay Guey NYC with a singular vision: create total sensory immersion.
"The purple on the wall is the deep purple of onions," he explains, his hands painting the air. "The shade of yellow lighting matches lemon peels. The green tones reflect fresh cilantro. When you eat here, you're not just tasting the food. You're inside it."
"I learned this at PDT—that the experience matters as much as the product. Every detail must have purpose. Every color must tell a story."
It's the same philosophy that guides every cocktail he creates, every dish Rodríguez prepares.
Nothing is accidental. Everything is intentional. Everything is love.
What You Actually Experience When You Walk Through Our Door
Chef Rodríguez's Aguachiles
Still prepared exactly as when she changed NYC in 2017. Bright green. Deep red. Intense black. Glorious mixto.
Each made with her mother's hands guiding her. Each so fresh you can taste the Pacific. Each capable of making people cry who taste it.
"When a Sinaloan customer cries over my aguachiles," Rodríguez says softly, "they're not just crying about the food. They're crying for everything they left behind. For the mother they haven't seen in years. For the beach where they played as children. For the home that lives only in memory."
"I give them that home, even if just for one bite."
Vasquez's Cocktails
Twenty years of mastery in every glass. Premium tequila and mezcal curated by an Oaxaca native who learned from the best. Pegu Club techniques applied to classic Mexican flavors. Theatrical presentations that make people take out their phones not for Instagram, but from pure awe.
"Every cocktail is a conversation," Vasquez explains. "I'm telling you: 'I see you. I know you worked hard today. You deserve something special. Let me create a moment you'll never forget.'"
"Because someone did that for me once. Audrey saw me when I was invisible. Now, I make everyone feel seen."
The Complete Menu
• Fresh Pacific seafood prepared with generational techniques
• Chilorio that The New York Times called "a beautiful ruin"
• Frijoles puercos "possessed by chipotle"
• Machaca "flagrantly meaty and concentrated"
• Ceviches that taste like memory
• Tacos, enchiladas, guacamole—every classic executed with love
• Traditional Mexican plates made with the same care Vasquez's mother used with her comal and clay pots
The Value That Respects Your Hard Work
• Happy Hour (Mon-Fri, 4-7pm): $10 margaritas & cocktails
• Weekend Brunch (Sat-Sun, 12-4pm): $10 cocktails
• Lunch Specials (Mon-Fri, 11am-4pm)
Craft cocktail experience at neighborhood prices. Because Vasquez remembers when $10 was his entire weekly budget. Because Rodríguez knows what it means to count every dollar.
"We didn't open this restaurant to get rich," Vasquez says. "We opened it to give back. So that families who work as hard as we worked can experience excellence. So they feel special. Because they are."
"My father was a teacher for 50 years. He never made much money. But he taught with vocation, with love. That's what I'm doing here—teaching people that they deserve beauty, that they deserve craft, that they matter."
What People Say (And Why It Will Make You Cry)
Yelp: 4.8 Stars
"Best nachos in the entire NYC"
"Just had the best cocktail drink I have ever had in my life"
"The aguachiles are exactly like what I had in Sinaloa"
"What a hidden gem in NYC!"
But it's that third review that matters most.
"When someone from Sinaloa says my aguachiles taste exactly like home," Rodríguez says, wiping away tears, "it's like my mother is hugging me from 2,000 miles away. It's validation that I didn't betray the recipes. That I kept the faith. That I honored her legacy."
Restaurant Guru: 4.8 Stars
"Perfectly balanced cocktails"
"Finally, real aguachiles in Queens!"
Tripadvisor: 4.3 Stars
Consistently praised for aguachiles, octopus, ceviche, atmosphere—but more than that, praised for how it makes you feel.
THE COMPLETE PRESS RECORD
The Features That Changed Everything
The New York Times (September 7, 2008)
First time Vasquez's name appeared in the world's most important newspaper: "Pisco and Yerba Mate is an eye-opening mix"
The New York Times (September 24, 2008, by Oliver Schwaner-Albright)
Second time in one month: "The cocktail list is a knockout" and "everything tastes good while sipping a Poquito Picante"
The New Yorker (November 10, 2008)
Praised Vasquez's "infectious conviviality," how he demonstrated techniques and shared tastings with guests
Los Angeles Times
Quoted Vasquez: "We're serving 60 to 70 pisco drinks on weeknights and even more on the weekends"
The New York Times (February 15, 2018, by Ligaya Mishan)
Full restaurant review praising Rodríguez's chilorio as "delicious" with texture that's "the wonder," her frijoles puercos "possessed by chipotle," and machaca "flagrantly meaty and concentrated"
Edible Queens (2017)
Full profile on Rodríguez's miraculous journey from lawyer to pioneering chef
Eater NY (February 7, 2020)
Featured Vasquez's "experiential cocktails" with liquid smoke bubbles
Out Magazine (March 18, 2009)
Featured Vasquez's Pisco Sour recipe as an example of perfection
DNAinfo (September 2014)
Documented how Vasquez pioneered theatrical presentations years before Instagram
Eat the World NYC (Multiple features)
Followed Rodríguez's career, calling her the chef who "broke New York"
The Published Work That Made Him Immortal
The PDT Cocktail Book (Jim Meehan)
Multiple original Vasquez recipes published forever:
• Rose-Infused Plymouth Gin
• Hibiscus-Infused Bernheim Wheat Whiskey
"When that book came out and I saw my name printed," Vasquez recalls, "I called my father. I said: 'Dad, our last name is in a book that will live forever. We matter.'"
FOR JOURNALISTS: 10 STORIES THAT WILL BREAK HEARTS
• "The Only Barback"
The story of how an invisible immigrant became the only exception in history—and what it teaches us about recognizing talent where others see nothing
• "Three Mothers, Three Masters"
Vasquez had three cocktail masters. Rodríguez had one teacher: her mother. Both learned that true mastery comes from the heart
• "From Law to Legend"
How a lawyer walked into a construction site on a whim and changed NYC's Mexican food scene forever
• "The Hands That Remember"
Inside the kitchen where a mother's hands in Sinaloa guide every dish from 2,000 miles away
• "Twenty Years in the Making"
From washing glasses to having recipes in history books—the ultimate American dream story
• "Mom's Recipes, Master Mixology"
When generational knowledge meets world-class technique—and why both matter equally
• "Before the Trends"
The duo who pioneered theatrical cocktails (2014) and aguachiles (2017)—and never sought credit
• "Why Queens?"
Why two titans chose an immigrant neighborhood over trendy Manhattan—and what it says about true success
• "When People Cry Over Your Food"
The stories behind the customers who can't stop crying when they taste Rodríguez's aguachiles
• "Love Made Edible"
Why this isn't just a restaurant—it's a bridge between worlds, a time machine to home, an act of radical love
INTERVIEW AVAILABILITY
Artemio Vasquez | The Dreamer Who Refused to Be Invisible
Available for:
• TV appearances with live cocktail demonstrations (tears guaranteed)
• Interviews exploring the emotional cost of the American dream
• Stories about what it feels like to be invisible—and then unforgettable
• Conversations about mentorship, gratitude, and giving back
• Masterclasses that teach not just technique, but soul
Questions That Will Make Him Speak from the Heart:
• "What would your father say if he could see you now?"
• "What did he teach you about vocation that you carry into every cocktail?"
• "Tell me about your mother making tortillas by hand on the comal"
• "What did you tell your mother the first time your name appeared in The New York Times?"
• "What does it feel like to be the only barback in history invited to a masters-only course?"
• "Did you cry when you saw your name in The PDT Cocktail Book?"
• "What do you tell young immigrants who feel invisible?"
• "Your father was a teacher for 50 years—what is Ay Guey NYC teaching?"
Chef América Rodríguez | The Lawyer Who Followed Her Heart
Available for:
• TV appearances with cooking demonstrations (tissues recommended)
• Stories about leaving a "respectable" career to follow a calling
• Conversations about mothers, memory, and what home really means
• Moments about making people cry with your food—in the best way
Questions That Will Make Her Share Her Soul:
• "What did your mother say when you told her you left law to cook?"
• "How did it feel when The New York Times praised your mother's recipes?"
• "Tell me about the first time a customer cried over your aguachiles"
• "What does it feel like when someone from Sinaloa says it tastes exactly like home?"
• "Do your mother's hands still guide you when you cook?"
PRACTICAL INFORMATION
HOURS
• Monday-Thursday: 11am-10pm
• Friday: 11am-11pm
• Saturday: 12pm-11pm
• Sunday: 12pm-10pm
MORE THAN A MENU—IT'S A LOVE EXPERIENCE
• Aguachiles that make people cry (with happiness)
• Cocktails that tell 20-year stories
• Chilorio that The New York Times called "beautiful ruin"
• Moments you'll never forget
• Memories that taste like home
• Food made with the same care as handmade tortillas on a comal
BECAUSE EVERYONE DESERVES TO FEEL SPECIAL
• Happy Hour: Mon-Fri, 4-7pm (bar only) — $10 margaritas & cocktails
• Weekend Brunch: Sat-Sun, 12-4pm — $10 cocktails
• Lunch Specials: Mon-Fri, 11am-4pm
THE STORY IN ONE BREATH
A boy from Oaxaca who washed glasses became the only barback invited to a masters-only course, trained by cocktail legends Audrey Saunders, Jim Meehan, and Sasha Petraske, with recipes published in history books and features in The New York Times (twice), The New Yorker, and Los Angeles Times. A lawyer from Sinaloa walked on a whim into a construction site and changed Mexican food in NYC forever, receiving a full New York Times restaurant review, being profiled in Edible Queens, making customers cry with aguachiles that taste exactly like home. Now, in Woodside, Queens—not Manhattan, not Brooklyn, but in the neighborhood where immigrants live—these two titans have joined forces, bringing 20 years of cocktail mastery and generational Sinaloan recipes under one roof, creating not just a restaurant, but a bridge between worlds, a time machine to home, an act of radical love served one dish, one cocktail, one embrace at a time.
CLOSING STATEMENT
Twenty years ago, Artemio Vasquez washed glasses with cracked hands and dreamed of something more.
Seven years ago, América Rodríguez walked into a construction site and asked three words that would change everything.
Today, their stories have intertwined in Woodside, Queens.
This is not just a restaurant.
It's proof that dreams matter. That immigrants build this city. That a barback can become legend. That a lawyer can find her true calling. That a mother's recipes can change a city. That 20 years of hard work are worth every tear.
It's a place where people cry over aguachiles because they taste like home.
Where every cocktail is a love letter to mastery.
Where two people who refused to be invisible now make everyone feel seen.
From barback to owner. From lawyer to legend. From Pegu Club and Sinaloa to Queens.
This is Ay Guey NYC.
Don't come here just hungry. Come here with an open heart.
Because this isn't just food and drink.
This is love made edible. Memory made tangible. Dreams made real.
This is the most beautiful story you've never been told.
And it begins with three simple words:
"Do you need help?"
Press Kit | January 2026
Media inquiries: (718) 255-1633 | AyGueyNYC.com
For more on Artemio and América, to hear their complete stories, to understand why this restaurant matters—call us. We have tears to share, dreams to tell, and a love for food and people that will change how you see Queens forever.
All information verified and written from the heart