The Main
INGREDIENT

By Jenny Starr Perez
Photography by Maria Galli

FROM KITCHEN-TABLE BEGINNINGS TO A GLOBAL FOOD FESTIVAL, SOBEWFF FOUNDER LEE SCHRAGER LOOKS BACK ON 25 YEARS OF BRINGING PEOPLE TOGETHER AROUND FLAVORS, CULTURE AND CONVERSATION.
When you think Lee Schrager, food comes before fashionista. But it turns out the founder and director of the Food Network’s South Beach Wine & Food Festival is just as comfortable around labels as he is around latkes, tacos, or whatever happens to be served at the festival that year. I’m reminded of that the moment he comes bounding down the stairs of his Coral Gables home, dressed in a Thom Browne sweater stitched with dogs. Jackson and Stanley, his beloved canine companions, follow closely behind, skidding into an art-filled living room that feels polished but personal.

It’s an apt greeting for a man whose life has always balanced discipline and enthusiasm. As the South Beach Wine & Food Festival approaches its 25th anniversary this month, Schrager remains surprised by the milestone. “It feels like yesterday,” he says. “It went so quick. I just can’t believe we’re still doing it, and I can’t believe I still love it as much.”

The festival began without a traditional business plan—almost unthinkable today, but far from accidental. “None of us imagined it would become what it is,” Schrager says. “We didn’t have a formal roadmap, but we knew what we wanted to build. And no one today would take that kind of leap.”

What guided those early years was experience, instinct, and timing. Food culture was entering a national moment, and the Food Network was hitting its stride. “They were creating celebrities—real rock stars—out of chefs,” Schrager says. “We recognized that shift early and were fortunate to grow alongside it.”

Terry Zarikian, the festival’s culinary adviser and one of its earliest collaborative architects, remembers those beginnings vividly. “The festival actually started at Lee’s kitchen,” Zarikian says. “A small group of culinary friends and close chefs volunteered, and that’s when it all began.” Early expectations were modest. “A small event for 300 ended up being 700. The second year we expected 1,000 and got 1,500 for that same event. Budgets were tight and we needed to wear many hats.”

At the time, Zarikian helped Schrager oversee chefs, menus, the Tribute Dinner, and public relations. “I often thought that Lee was not normal,” he says, laughing. “To me, he’s superhuman. He never gives up, and most times he reminds you, ‘I told you so’ when you express doubts and everything miraculously turns out well. He’s caring and loyal, not only to his friends but to the people he works with.”
A defining moment arrived in year three, when the Food Network formally came on board as a partner. “That’s when I knew we were on to something,” Schrager says. Momentum followed quickly. The inaugural festival drew nearly 6,000 attendees—far surpassing early projections—and demand outpaced infrastructure. Tickets were sold directly out of Schrager’s office, a reflection of the festival’s grassroots beginnings. “It was guerrilla marketing at its best,” he says. “Everyone was learning in real time, fueled by passion, collaboration, and a shared belief in what we were building.”

Media attention followed from outlets far beyond food publications. Articles in Vanity Fair, Variety, and Page Six helped broaden the festival’s reach. “That brought talent and media to Miami,” Schrager says. “That helped the city become what it is today.” He is careful not to claim sole credit for Miami’s culinary rise. “It would have happened anyway. It’s an amazing destination,” he says. “What we can take credit for is bringing talent here who hadn’t been before.”

That exposure mattered. Schrager recalls chefs who once dismissed Miami as a dining city. “There are interviews where Thomas Keller said he would never open in Miami,” he says. “Now he has two restaurants.”

From the beginning, philanthropy was built into the festival’s mission. Through its partnership with Florida International University, SOBEWFF has raised more than $50 million for hospitality education. “Imagine how many scholarships that is,” Schrager says. “Imagine how many careers it’s launched.”

He says the most meaningful feedback comes when former students approach him while traveling. “They’ll say, ‘I worked the festival. That experience changed my life.’ That’s what really impresses me.”

The festival has never skipped a year, even during COVID-19. “We reduced our numbers, but we stayed open,” Schrager says. “We kept people employed. Everyone still came down and did the festival.”

He has been with his husband, Ricardo, a pediatric interventional radiologist, for nearly 22 years. “We both love what we do,” Schrager says. “There’s no competition.” Their lives are busy but aligned.

At 66, Schrager is clear about the future. “I’ll never step away from the festival,” he says. “I might do things differently.” Time, he admits, has passed quickly. “I don’t know where my 50s went!”

Restaurants will open and close. Trends will evolve. But as the South Beach Wine and Food Festival enters its second quarter-century, its founder remains grounded in the same principle that launched it. “Food and music bring people together,” Schrager says. “Everybody eats.”

Twenty-five years later, he is still setting the table—and still considering what comes next.
Looking back, Schrager sees resilience as part of the festival’s DNA. Twenty-five years in, his focus is firmly on evolution. “I need to keep it fresh,” he says. “That curiosity is what keeps me engaged.” That approach has shaped a new generation of programming, from music-forward events featuring artists like Diplo to wellness, coffee, and nonalcoholic experiences that reflect changing habits.

The response has been immediate. “We’ve already sold more tickets to a coffee and mocktail event this year than some of our major brunches drew in the past,” he says—clear evidence that the festival continues to move in step with its audience.

His role as chief communications officer for Southern Glazer’s Wine & Spirits gives him a unique vantage point. “I know trends as they’re happening,” he says. “I know what people are drinking and what they’re not drinking.” That data informs festival planning, from tequila-heavy late-night events to newer food-focused experiences that target the Gen Z demographic.

At home, Schrager’s life is anchored by routine, memory, and relationships. He speaks openly about the influence of his late mother, who encouraged independence and hard work. “We grew up lower middle class,” he says. “I worked from the time I was nine years old.” Her presence remains with him. “Every day, something reminds me of her.”

He has been with his husband, Ricardo, a pediatric interventional radiologist, for nearly 22 years. “We both love what we do,” Schrager says. “There’s no competition.” Their lives are busy but aligned.

At 66, Schrager is clear about the future. “I’ll never step away from the festival,” he says. “I might do things differently.” Time, he admits, has passed quickly. “I don’t know where my 50s went!”

Restaurants will open and close. Trends will evolve. But as the South Beach Wine and Food Festival enters its second quarter-century, its founder remains grounded in the same principle that launched it. “Food and music bring people together,” Schrager says. “Everybody eats.”

Twenty-five years later, he is still setting the table—and still considering what comes next.
Looking back, Schrager sees resilience as part of the festival’s DNA. Twenty-five years in, his focus is firmly on evolution. “I need to keep it fresh,” he says. “That curiosity is what keeps me engaged.” That approach has shaped a new generation of programming, from music-forward events featuring artists like Diplo to wellness, coffee, and nonalcoholic experiences that reflect changing habits.

The response has been immediate. “We’ve already sold more tickets to a coffee and mocktail event this year than some of our major brunches drew in the past,” he says—clear evidence that the festival continues to move in step with its audience.

His role as chief communications officer for Southern Glazer’s Wine & Spirits gives him a unique vantage point. “I know trends as they’re happening,” he says. “I know what people are drinking and what they’re not drinking.” That data informs festival planning, from tequila-heavy late-night events to newer food-focused experiences that target the Gen Z demographic.

At home, Schrager’s life is anchored by routine, memory, and relationships. He speaks openly about the influence of his late mother, who encouraged independence and hard work. “We grew up lower middle class,” he says. “I worked from the time I was nine years old.” Her presence remains with him. “Every day, something reminds me of her.”