Michelin star order
February 19, 2026
We’re taking a silly little trip down memory lane. Early 2023 brought me my biggest Magu order to date. I had noticed fellow ceramicists I followed were making tableware for cafés and I began to manifest a similar project. All I wanted was to design a few mugs for one of the cool cafés I frequented in Lisboa. I even wrote a list of places I wished would contact me, visualising what could be. Soon enough, Feitoria’s chef reached out to me.
I remember being in absolute shock when I found out what Feitoria was. I knew the Altis hotel by name, but I wasn’t familiar with Michelin-starred restaurants, since they were (and still are) way out of my budget. I exchanged some messages with chef André Cruz, who I remember asking where my atelier was so he could visit. I was 18, making ceramics in my bedroom and firing them in my garage. There’s a wholesome video of me wedging clay—I had set my camera recording so I could cut bits for a reel. Halfway through, my father called, I picked up and I still have that call on record. I told him about the proposal, that I felt unqualified, too young, not established enough to take on the project, but that I was thrilled at the opportunity. Upon my explaining that I wasn’t a brand, but an 18-year-old with a passion project, the chef kindly agreed to a meeting at the restaurant so I could bring some pieces and discuss the direction of the new designs. They were looking for new bread plates, so I brought 3 with me, which was all the stock I had. One of the plates had a texture they enjoyed and that became central to all the pieces we’ve developed since then.
Other than bread plates, I’ve made coffee cups, tea cups, matching saucers, teapots and cutlery rests. Through trial and error and repetition, I’ve been refining my methods. As you might know, I usually create one-off editions because I don’t like industrialising my practice. Interestingly, with the Feitoria orders, every step of the process is intentional, even when I have to replicate the same design 40 times.
So why am I sharing this only now? I was recently commissioned to make a new batch of bread plates, which put me once again in contact with a workflow I’m very familiar with and fond of by now. I’ve been reflecting on what this relationship of sorts with Feitoria has taught me.
Firstly, I learned that I am worthy of thriving opportunities coming my way. I’ve dealt with more demanding private clients over a single mug than I have with this restaurant and their large orders (large for a one-woman business, anyway). Not only have they been supportive of my work and understanding of occasional ceramics accidents, but they have also granted me creative freedom. For that, I am super grateful.
Secondly, these plates (and the other pieces) represent much of my own beliefs about craft and life. With every repetition, I grow more empathetic and grounded. I am able to become intimate with the work I'm doing while staying somewhat detached from vessels. There’s an obvious link between food, hospitality and tableware. I’m inspired by what ceramics bring to the table in terms of aesthetics, energy and the whole sensorial experience. With Feitoria, the Semente menu communicates this visceral connection to the Earth, a connection I continue to convey in my own practice.
Finally, I have full confidence in the work I am delivering. Through dreaming and hoping, I’ve unlocked my highest potential. I’ve done it before and I’ll do it again. I thought this project might grow boring over time. As it turns out, it’s always a pleasure to get my hands back on it whenever the restaurant needs new ceramics. From the perspective of a small business owner, of course, this is a much more exciting story. I’m sure a restaurant that serves 9-course dinners isn’t this aware of me or my craft. But from my point of view, and recalling how easily I’ve indulged in self-sabotage narratives in the past, I think it’s about time I celebrate my wins, too.
1. Shaping non-stop. 2. Hand signatures on every plate bottom (AI could never). 3. Quick pit stop at Musa de Marvila to try chef André's limited edition rabanada. 4. Peek into the kiln. 5. Delivery at Feitoria.