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Some recipes get written down. Clotilde's were remembered.
La Clotilde is a Mexican kitchen in Ciudad Victoria, opened by Clotilde's grandson to keep her Veracruz cooking at the table. The brief was simple: it had to feel like her house, not like a restaurant's idea of one.
We drew Clotilde from family photographs: the curls, the crooked smile, the look of someone about to tell you to eat more. The line stays loose and a little uneven, like a portrait sketched at the kitchen table.
The wordmark was written by hand, page after page, until it stopped looking like lettering and started looking like a signature on a recipe card.
Kraft paper, ink, and the pink of a market tablecloth. Nothing precious, everything familiar. On the menu, Clotilde's portrait marks the dishes that came straight from her stove.
The script we wrote with a ballpoint pen now runs across the roof as a lit sign. Her portrait fills a pink wall, where people raise their café de olla in enamel mugs. On social, it signs off every dish, including her enfrijoladas veracruzanas.
Twelve years later, she's still at the door. The identity hasn't changed since 2014. It grew into a rooftop sign and a painted wall, local press calls their chilaquiles the best in the city, and Clotilde still greets everyone who walks in.
Work done:
-Branding
-Menu Design
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