Bellden Café: Crafted with Love, Served with Heart

Bellden Cafe store front

The story starts in a hospital. Originally from Shanghai, Claire Sumadiwirya moved to Bellevue at twelve. Years later, while the family was back in Shanghai, her eldest son fell ill, and they had to stay at the hospital. Hospitals there don’t always have cafés the way American ones do, and she found herself lonely, sleep-deprived, and hungry. A janitor looked after her and bought her coffee. That small kindness from a stranger stayed with her. When the family returned to Bellevue, she opened a café built to pass it forward. The little boy in the logo is her son.

At Bellden Café in downtown Bellevue, every item on the menu gives back to charity. You feed yourself well, and you help someone else along the way. That is the idea Claire built the place around, and the message behind the café’s slogan: crafted with love, served with heart.

Bellden Cafe Sign
Claire Sumadiwirya

Claire earned degrees in sociology and finance from the University of Washington and an MBA from Seattle University. Bellden’s model rests on what she calls three folds. The first is the café itself, where a rotating drink is dedicated to a charity partner and ten percent of those sales are donated. The second is Golden Life, a retail line made in house, with twenty percent of every sale going to the partners. The third is the Bellden Social Club, which hosts private dinners and volunteer projects through the year. “We help people understand that everybody can make an effort to make a difference in the community,” she says.

What sets the business apart is the math. Every year, Bellden donates the maximum it can after breaking even. Over eight years, that has added up to nearly half a million dollars. The Social Club keeps the calendar full, a Latino market one month, a Midlakes United soccer game the next, a Pride Mimosa Garden with the Bellevue Downtown Association. A recent five-course private dinner for the Boys & Girls Club raised more than fourteen thousand dollars in one evening.

The giving would mean little if the food weren’t good, and Claire is unbending on that point. She built the menu herself. Other than coffee and bread, everything is made in house from her own recipes, which is why her sourcing partners matter so much. Macrina has supplied Bellden’s bread for much of its run, held to the same standard as everything else that leaves the kitchen. “The quality of the food we create together is held to a really high standard,” she says, “and that’s how we differentiate our products from other cafés in the area.” It is bread, she adds, that she would feel comfortable serving to the people she loves most.

Bellden pastries and drink
Bellden food items

The deepest part of Bellden’s mission is who does the work. Hiring people in need isn’t a side project at the café. It is the main focus of the training. Claire hires and trains refugees, neurodivergent young people, and survivors of human trafficking. The training is personalized, trauma-informed, and language-accessible, so nearly anyone can find a place to work. “These are historically marginalized groups,” she says, “but they’re some of the most courageous people to work with.” The approach has earned Bellden the King County Executive’s Small Business of the Year award for workforce development. In eight years, more than two hundred people have come through the café’s doors.

One of those people is Samuel. He came to Bellden through the Gobi School transitional program and became the café’s first neurodivergent hire. The team trained him, and this April he joined the U.S. Navy. He is one story among many, but he puts a face and a name to what the numbers describe. “Now he’s out in the world,” Claire says, “helping people and protecting our country.”

For the coming year, Claire hopes to invest more in workforce development and to deepen long-term partnerships like the one with Macrina. She wants something lasting, not just a café but a social hub that brings goodness to the community. You can taste the result on the menu in Bellevue and find the Bellden Life products online. Every order is a small act of giving.

JP’s Bars: Pub Food, Scratch Kitchens

At JP’s five restaurants and bars, nearly everything is made in house. But he trusts Macrina with the bread. 

Jean-Paul (JP) Pirio runs five restaurants and bars across King and Pierce counties, and no two of them feel alike. JP’s Barroom in Renton is a 21-and-over dive with a focus on games and sports. Hy Iu Hee Hee in Gig Harbor has that log-cabin vibe and has been a neighborhood gathering place since the 1930s, where breakfast runs all day and many of the customers have been coming in for decades. JP’s Taproom & Grill in Kent is closer to a full-service restaurant, with hostesses and a menu that runs to steaks and crab towers. Time Out Ale House in Kent, the newest of the five, leans into the sports-bar identity, complete with pool tables and pull tabs. JP’s Tavern in Federal Way splits the difference: gastro-pub food, shuffleboard and darts, Sunday brunch.

What ties them together isn’t the room. It’s what comes out of the kitchen.

“We make everything in house,” JP says. “Obviously not the bread, but our pizza dough, all our sauces, dressings — everything we’re capable of doing in house, we do.” And you can taste the difference. The salmon is wild-caught. The ground beef is hormone- and antibiotic-free. The bread comes from Macrina, just down the road in Kent. The kitchens at all five locations work from the same playbook: scratch cooking, clean labels, ingredients you can pronounce.

That last part matters to him. JP came up in restaurants from his first job onward, and at twenty-five years in he’s seen every shortcut the industry offers. He’s turned most of them down. Asked what he wouldn’t compromise on, even when costs climb, his answer is immediate: the food. “I won’t sacrifice quality,” he says of cutting corners on ingredients. “That’s the one thing I’m not able to compromise on.”

The Philly cheesesteak at JP’s is a fair example of how that conviction plays out at the cutting board. It took five years to perfect. Five years of testing the meat, the cheese, the seasoning, the bread — adjusting one variable, then another, then circling back to the first. JP doesn’t describe it as a project. He describes it as something they kept working on until they got it right. Five years on a single sandwich isn’t a normal sports-bar timeline. At JP’s, it’s just how things get done.

Macrina has supplied the buns and breads at every JP’s location since the partnership began at the Kent Taproom in 2015. JP puts it the way he tends to put things — plainly. “What I like about their bread is, there’s four ingredients or five ingredients and they’re simple. It’s water, salt, flour. You know, things you can read.”

That bread shows up across the menu, and especially on the bestsellers. The burgers come on a brioche bun. The chicken burgers come on a potato bun. The salmon club gets the brioche; the turkey club gets the sour white. 

Five rooms, five different crowds. One kitchen philosophy. Worth the drive to whichever one’s closest.