Campus Connection

How a passion for food and family propelled Yia Vang to culinary stardom

When talking with Yia Vang — the widely known Twin Cities chef with a myriad of accolades — he’ll be the first to tell you he’s still just a shy kid from a small town in Wisconsin. 

Vang, ’10, still gets excited about free snacks on flights — not out of necessity, but nostalgia. 

“I’m the dude who gets flown first class — I have an agent who schedules things for me,” he says. “But I’m still the guy who puts the free snacks in my bag for later.”

It’s a small thing, but then again, Vang has never forgotten where he came from. 

These days, Vang is known across the country as a James Beard-nominated chef and host of “Relish,” a Twin Cities PBS series that recently won a James Beard Media Award, celebrating immigrant food culture.

He’s the creative force behind Vinai, a beloved restaurant in Northeast Minneapolis, and Vernacular, a culinary “exchange program” where chefs collaborate across cities and cultures. 

He’s been on Netflix’s “Iron Chef,” a guest on “Diners, Drive-Ins and Dives,” in addition to appearing as a special guest on a variety of other shows and podcasts.

Most recently, Vang and his team were honored by Bon Appétit magazine, which named Vinai its Best New Restaurant. 

Vang is cheered on by fans in classrooms, kitchens and everywhere in between. Still, to him, it’s surreal. 

Vang’s path to success was not a straight line. In fact, it nearly ended before it began. 

“My first three semesters at UWL were really tough,” Vang recalls. “I struggled with school, and I failed out — and I thought that was the end of life. How could I face my parents?”

Embarrassed, he stayed in La Crosse, working quietly in a kitchen and avoiding the subject altogether. But something clicked.

“I came back to UWL with a new desire to learn and be curious about life,” Vang says. “Not because of the idea of ‘pulling yourself up by your bootstraps,’ but because I thought about my dad. He never gave up. When he fought in a war, when he went to a refugee camp, he never gave up because everything he did was for his kids. That thinking was what got me through school.” 

It’s one of many stories Vang shares, and it all goes back to his parents — the original storytellers in his life. 

“It’s not my story,” Vang says. “It’s Mom and Dad’s story. They are the quill, and I am the ink. What’s a quill without ink? It’s a useless feather that gets blown away by the wind. I found my purpose because I saw this story inside of them.”

At Vinai, Vang tells those stories in the language he knows best: food. 

“Vinai is a place of belonging, and great food happens to be the byproduct of what we do,” he says. “We’re creating a place of belonging, no matter where you come from.” 

Vang’s parents, now in their 70s, still farm and provide produce to the restaurant — a physical and symbolic throughline from one generation to the next.

“They’re still toiling with the ground for their children,” Vang shares. “All they care about is making sure they take care of their babies.” 

It’s a deeply personal act, but also a universal one. 

“That’s a human story — not just specifically Hmong, or refugees, or immigrants, or people of color,” Vang explains. “I’m doing it from the perspective of a Hmong kid because that’s what I know.”

Vang graduated from UWL with a degree in communication studies, and to this day, he sees a direct link between communication and the work he does now. 

“When I give talks — most recently to the American Society for Nutrition in Orlando — I always start with this question: ‘What is communication?’” Vang says. “What’s more important: the intention of the message or the interpretation?” 

That question carries over to his food. “If I intend to send a message through food and the receiver interprets it wrong, and comes back saying they don’t get it, I have to adjust to make sure the message comes through. We do that every day in the kitchen.”

Fame has brought many full-circle moments. Vang’s high school Spanish teacher once wrote in his yearbook: You have a great personality. You’re going to change the world. One day, I’m going to turn on my TV and see you there. 

When he landed his first national press with CNN, he snapped a photo of the yearbook and sent her a message: “Ms. B., turn on your TV!”

He still keeps in touch with teachers from Port Edwards and communication studies professors from UWL.

“I’ll always be that kid from central Wisconsin,” he says. “I’ll always remember who the teachers and professors who were there for me.” 

That kid — who once thought UWL felt like the biggest campus in the world — has not changed much, even if his surroundings have. 

“My first night away from home alone was at UWL. My parents dropped me off at Wentz Hall for a summer program. My dad gave me $20, and I walked to Kwik Trip and got Twizzlers, Sunny D and a cookie,” Vang recalls. “I still feel like that kid. As long as I have my Sunny D and Twizzlers, I’m good.” 

Vang doesn’t claim to know the future — and he’s okay with that. 

“I’m not a Pinterest board kind of guy,” Vang says. “If opportunities come to us and they align with our mission, vision and goals, we’ll explore it.” 

There’s talk of more collaborations, more storytelling. Jokingly, a retirement plan consisting of a frozen food line (“It doesn’t sound too bad ...”). And, perhaps most importantly, more representation. 

Vang’s show “Relish” is being shown in classrooms across the country, sparking conversations about history, culture and food. Families write in to say how meaningful it is for their kids to see a male Hmong role model on TV. 

“Those interactions show me that what we do doesn’t just stay within the four walls of our restaurant in Minneapolis,” Vang says. “To this day, I still find it weird being stopped by people on the street for pictures, or being thought of as a ‘celebrity.’ I’m just a small-town Wisconsin kid.” 

As long as there’s a story to tell — whether it’s on a plate, a screen or in a classroom — Vang will keep being the ink, telling stories of family and culture in all that he does.