Jessica Gonzales blends culture, comfort, and color into a flavor that speaks volumes.
Living in Paris, a city where gastronomy is revered like religion, it’s easy (almost inevitable) to drift away from your own food culture. You might reach for a boeuf bourguignon instead of kare-kare and bagoong. Or grow fond of flaky croissants and chouquettes over pan de sal. But in the ebb and flow of diasporic living, there are moments when you suddenly crave what is yours. In my case, it’s the marinated depth of adobo, the sour, comforting tang of sinigang, and the unparalleled sweetness of Philippine mangoes. No other fruit even comes close.
And then, there’s ube.
Though it’s not a staple in my fridge, unlike butter or banana ketchup, I remember ube very specifically. It was never an everyday thing. It never appeared just casually. Rather, it arrived in precise, almost ritualistic instances. As a reward in a jar after a misty week in the mountains of Baguio. Or as a vivid violet topping in halo-halo under the unforgiving Manila summer. It was indulgent, celebratory, rare. But when it was there, it meant something. It meant happiness.
Lately, that same feeling has been rekindled in an unlikely place. In the French capital, on a street close to the Oberkampf metro, in the 11th arrondissement. Here sits Kapé Paris, a Filipino coffee shop where the spirit of merienda is not only preserved but promoted, and where ube shows up front and center. Co-founded by Jessica Gonzales and her longtime friend Aurélie Véchot, Kapé is their love letter to the Philippines, handwritten in purple yam and a shot of espresso.
“We wanted to create a space where people not only discover the richness of Filipino coffee and flavors, but also feel instantly at ease. Like walking into a friend’s home,” Gonzales shares, explaining how Kapé was born out of a deep love for Filipino culture and a desire to honor it in a city where it’s still relatively unknown.
As an extension of Bobi, the Filipino restaurant Gonzales and her business partner opened just before the pandemic in 2020, Kapé carries that same spirit of openness and welcome. The café is designed without a counter or barrier between guests and baristas. Instead, an open kitchen and bar encourage conversation, curiosity, and connection. The space is sunlit and soulful, anchored by a large, cream-colored round table that says: tambay ka muna (hang out a while). Throughout the café, repurposed capiz windows and capiz lamps, which she hand-carried from the Philippines, evoke a sense of familiarity and warmth, filling the space with a soft, inviting glow. The menu moves between the traditional and the unexpected: think classic cortado and ube matcha affogato.
“At home, I was surrounded by Filipino flavors, but I also grew up savoring French dishes. This blend of influences made me appreciate both the comforting heartiness of Filipino cuisine and the artistry of a French kitchen.”
As a self-taught chef and head of the kitchen at both Kapé and Bobi, Jessica Gonzales channels her love for Filipino food and the stories that shape it. Her curiosity led her deeper into the flavors of her heritage, mastering traditional techniques while embracing the finesse of French cooking. “Through each dish, I wanted to reflect the warmth, generosity, and richness of Filipino cuisine, and offer people a taste of the culture I grew up with,” she says. “Especially ube.”
Vogue France recently highlighted the rise of ube on its platform, acknowledging its growing appeal in global culinary trends. On TikTok, Kapé has also become a popular mention for anyone looking for the must-do spots in Paris. There’s an undeniable allure to ube for people outside the Filipino community, capturing their interest with its color and unique flavor.
Co-founder Véchot, whose heritage spans Madagascar, La Réunion, and India, met Gonzales in college. She recalls her first taste of ube during a trip to the Philippines: “I tried halo-halo for the first time. It was a vibrant and colorful mix, and I remember being particularly struck by the ube ice cream. Its rich purple hue and unique flavor really stood out.”
She was instantly drawn to both its appearance and the flavor it added to the dish. “I could immediately see the potential of ube in drinks and desserts, not only for its delicious taste but also for the way its color could make any creation visually captivating.”
Often confused with taro and sweet potato, ube is a distinct variety of yam found in the Philippines. It is known for its nutty, almost vanilla-like flavor and its stunning purple hue. “When we started experimenting with ube at Kapé, there was a lot of taste testing,” Gonzales recalls with a laugh. “It’s so beloved in Filipino culture that it made sense to spotlight it here.”
But integrating ube into a coffee-forward menu wasn’t such an easy task. “Ube’s profile is rich and sweet, so it can easily overpower other flavors or get lost in the mix. We needed to find the right blend, one that would harmonize with it rather than compete.”
After many rounds of trial and error, they perfected their now iconic ube latte, a drink that somehow feels both comforting and entirely new.
Yet ube is more than just a trend, it’s an ingredient with impressive nutritional benefits. In recent years, it’s gained traction in wellness circles for good reason. Rich in anthocyanins, the same antioxidant compounds found in blueberries, ube helps reduce inflammation, supports brain health, and fights free radicals. According to the United States Department of Agriculture, 100 grams of ube contains about 85 calories, packed with potassium, fiber, and immune-boosting vitamins A and C. Naturally caffeine-free and low in calories, the ube latte offers a satisfying experience without the energy crash.
Gonzales, who grew up in Paris with Filipino parents, seamlessly navigated between two distinct worlds. The French lifestyle outside her home, and the rich Filipino traditions within it. Food became her bridge between these cultures. “At home, I was surrounded by Filipino flavors, but I also grew up savoring French dishes that my parents had learned to cook. This blend of influences made me appreciate both the comforting heartiness of Filipino cuisine and the artistry of a French kitchen. Filipino food, with its bold and vibrant flavors, always reminded me of home. French cuisine, on the other hand, taught me to cherish fine ingredients and the art of presentation.”
Though she cherishes the refined French cuisine she grew up with, her most significant and relatable food memories are distinctly Filipino: the crunch of Skyflakes after school, the smell of her mother’s sinigang, and the joy of her lola returning from the Philippines with a jar of ube in tow.
Photographed by Douc D’Ivry Barzini
“Language, too, has been central to my identity,” she says. “Growing up speaking Tagalog at home and French in the world around me, I’ve always felt connected to two different realities. It’s not just about communication, it’s about expressing myself through two lenses. Each language holds its own history, its own cultural depth.”
“Tradition, for me,” she continues, “has always been about preserving the richness of Filipino customs while embracing the experiences I’ve had in France. I’ve learned to honor the cultural practices passed down by my family, like celebrating holidays with Filipino food and music, while also appreciating the multicultural tapestry of my life here.”
Being a Filipina in France has shaped the way Gonzales views the world. For her, it’s about celebrating the fusion of cultures, finding joy in both, and creating new ways to share them. “French and Filipino food, language, and tradition have always defined who I am,” she says.
The deeper inspiration behind Kapé, says Gonzales, comes from family gatherings in the Philippines, particularly the scent of freshly brewed barako coffee from Batangas, where her family is from. “My grandparents lived next to a barako roastery,” she recalls. “Every morning I spent with them, I’d wake up to that smell.”
But it wasn’t just about the coffee. It was the atmosphere: stories shared, plates clinking, laughter filling the room. That sense of kapwa, a Filipino concept of shared identity and connection, is what Kapé is built on.
“Every Filipino gathering revolves around food,” Gonzales explains. “It’s loud, joyful, with karaoke, lumpia, and always someone bringing extra rice. Whether it’s a birthday or a Sunday, everyone shows up with something. We wanted to capture that vibe here.”
At its core, Kapé is about community. “We want it to be a place where drink lovers can all come together,” Gonzales says. “A space where people can share stories and connect, no matter where they’re from. It’s about creating a home away from home.”
Gonzales may have turned a simple purple drink into something more. Because in a city where espresso and matcha dominate, there’s something quietly uplifting about seeing that violet-hued glass slide across the counter. It’s a nod to home, a hit of nostalgia, and a feel-good option in a world of hype. And for this immigrant, that’s something to smile about.
By LIZ BAUTISTA. Photographs by DOUCE D’IVRY BARZINI. Shoot assistance: Victoire Ferchaud.
Dining and Cooking