Before the brand, before the kitchen, before the first recipe
“Green,” in the Warao language.
In the delta of the Orinoco River, where the water splits into a thousand arms before it finds the sea, lives the Warao people. They called gido the color of the leaves, the color of the living forest, the color of everything that grows and feeds.
We borrowed the word — with respect, with gratitude — because we couldn't find any other that said so well what we wanted to do. Cook green. Cook alive. Cook as if the earth still mattered — because it does.
Every plate that leaves our kitchen is, at its core, a thank you. To the hands that grew the food. To the women who taught us. To a language that understood, long before we did, that green isn't just a color — it's a way of being in the world.
Venezuelan by heart. Houstonian by home. Warao by gratitude.
From Caracas to Houston
Venezuelan by heart. Houstonian by home.
When our family arrived in Houston, we brought with us the flavors of Caracas — the warmth of a Sunday almuerzo, the way arepas taste better when someone you love made them, the belief that a well-set table can heal almost anything.
Houston welcomed us with open arms and an appetite. This city, so beautifully diverse, so hungry for something real — it became the perfect place to share what we'd carried across borders: recipes passed down through generations, made with ingredients that honor the earth.
This is where Gido was born. Not in a boardroom, but in a kitchen. Our kitchen.
Two women building something from scratch in a city that wasn't always ours, trusting that if the food is honest, people will feel it.
We don't believe in shortcuts. We believe in slow mornings, in fresh ingredients, in recipes that deserve your time. Wellness isn't a trend — it's a way of living that our ancestors understood long before it had a name.
Every product we make is a small act of love. From our hands to your table, with all the warmth of a home that always has room for one more.
The hands behind every meal
Meet the two women who pour their hearts into every dish.
THE HEART
Silvia
FOUNDER & HEAD CHEF
Silvia learned to cook the way most women in our family did — standing next to her mother, who stood next to hers, in a kitchen where nobody measured anything and everybody ate twice. She doesn't follow recipes so much as remember them. She tastes with her hands. She seasons by instinct.
Ask her about a dish and she'll tell you who taught her to make it. That's not nostalgia — that's how she cooks. Every plate is a conversation with the women who came before.
La cocina es donde yo me siento más yo.
— The kitchen is where I feel most like myself.
THE VISION
Susan
CO-FOUNDER & CREATIVE DIRECTOR
Susan grew up watching her mother cook for everyone — and somewhere along the way decided the world deserved to taste it too. She's the one who finds the words, picks the colors, designs the jar, writes the love letter you're reading right now.
She has a stubborn belief that beautiful things should also be good things. — and good things should also be beautiful. That tension is where the brand lives.
If it doesn't feel like love, we're not doing it right.
A Mom & Her Daughter Walk Into a Kitchen…
…and proceed to argue about spice levels at least three times a week.
Silvia thinks Susan adds too much salt. Susan thinks Silvia is too humble about her own cooking. Silvia wants to feed the world. Susan wants to build a brand that outlasts them both. They disagree about almost everything — except the things that matter:
That food should be honest.
That beautiful and good are not opposites.
That nobody should have to choose between eating well and being busy.
That a meal made by hand can change someone's whole week.
Gido is what happens when those two stubborn beliefs sit down at the same table.
START EATING BETTER →We're so glad you're here.
With love and a little bit of spice —
Silvia & Susan
Founders of Gido
P.S. If you write to us, we write back. The two of us. We promise.