No waste? No problem. Sacramento chef hosts monthly zero-waste supper clubs
Sunlight streamed through the windows of a private residence downtown last Friday evening onto a butcher paper-covered table. Bottles become makeshift flower vases and candlestick holders.
To the 12 guests that evening, chef Eríc Martínez served up a multi-course, mostly vegetarian meal. And he did it all with zero waste.
Martínez got his bachelor’s degree in hospitality management at the Art Institutes, after which he headed to Mexico City, where he worked at the Michelin-starred Pujol for three years. He followed that with a stint at the now-defunct Restaurant 108 in Copenhagen, which also gained a star before closing in 2020.
108 was a sister restaurant to famed — and now controversy-stricken — Noma. Like Noma, 108’s philosophy was steeped in sustainability and conservation. There, Martínez studied the practices of preserving, fermentation and foraging. He brought these sensibilities back with him to the states.
“So basically, my whole philosophy of minimizing waste is about, how can I use the entire product? It’s all about, how can I use this in a sauce? How can I use this as a preserve? Even the skins of things, to get those out of the organic waste bin. So everything is with intention,” Martínez said.
Returning to Sacramento, he began doing private chef work. He launched Crispín Supper Club in 2023.
Martínez hosts monthly supper clubs that are open to the public for $125 per person, which includes welcome bites, mocktails and a four-course dinner, plus some surprises. He also does private events at the same rate for the basic menu, but can do up to 10 courses plus wine pairing for a higher rate.
To work toward his zero-waste goal, he looks at what might otherwise go in the bin, and thinks of ways to reinvent them.
“For example, just two years ago, we released a zero-waste rub. We collect onion skins and garlic skins. We save them, and then we char them up in the oven, and then we mix them with other spices. And that’s how we season most of our (dishes). And with that, we saved about 100 pounds of scraps from going into the bin,” he said.
Last year, Martínez hit up the farmers markets and asked the farmers for their ugly tomatoes. He dehydrated them and turned them into tomato powder that he uses on his tomato Caesar salad to amp up the tomato flavor.
For this supper club, Martínez celebrated the birthday of his mother, who passed from cancer in 2024.
“I’m half-Black, half-Mexican, but we pretty much grew up only eating Mexican, Latino food. And so I just did a lot of things that were part of my memory growing up,” he said.
He starts each meal with a bocadito, or snack. In this case, it’s a homemade tortilla with organic beans, homemade cheese and pickled jalapeno.
“That reminds me of when I would wake up in the morning with my mom, the first thing we would get was egg and bean burritos,” he said.
Next up was a tostada with organic oyster mushrooms, goat cheese and his zero-waste salsa macha, followed by an empanada made with corn, Soyrizo, more homemade cheese and a salsa verde made from zucchini tops.
Martínez’s mother loved mole, so he made a version he learned in Acapulco.
“Usually it’s cooked over an open fire. So we did the same thing, but we put it in a cast iron skillet, and then we put it over corn husks, and then we just finished it on the grill, on the open coals, and we served that with wagyu beef and some chimichurri potatoes,” he said.
For the pescatarians at the table, he served halibut seasoned with his zero-waste rub.
Dessert was a tres leches made with cinnamon cream, local strawberries and mezcal.
Martínez likes to leave diners with a zero-waste memento to remember their meal by. This year he’s been giving them his house-made chamoy. It’s made with the odds and ends from fruit like pineapple cores, pear skins and strawberry tops — blended, cooked and mixed with water and spice. He served this with some local oranges at the start of the meal.
For this meal, though, he honored his mother, who loved popcorn, by giving out organic popcorn with white chocolate, craisins and pistachios.
Martínez named Crispín after his father, who was, and is, a formative presence for him. Growing up half-Black and half-Mexican in Redding, Martínez faced a lot of racism in his youth.
“I have a great relationship with my dad, and you know, my dad has helped me from the beginning,” Martínez said. “My dad was always the one behind to be like, hey, you know, son, you need to really just focus on yourself, and, you know, shoot for the stars. I wanted my dad to really see that I did all this hard work because of (him).”
This story was originally published April 29, 2026 at 10:53 AM.
