‘I Don’t Have Anything Left:’ How One Chef Found Capital When Banks Said No and Eventually Got On Disney’s Radar

James Petrakis did not stumble into success. 

Before his restaurant, The Ravenous Pig earned Michelin Bib Gourmand recognition, before seven straight James Beard semifinalist nods, before Orlando started being taken seriously as a food city, there was a stretch where survival mattered more than accolades.

In the early days, nothing felt inevitable.

Two months before Ravenous Pig opened in Winter Park, Fla., Petrakis had his car stolen. Cash was so tight he biked to work while trying to finish a restaurant he could barely afford to open. 

At one point, he looked at his designer and admitted the money was gone. “I don’t have anything left,” he told her. She finished the space anyway, trusting that he would make good later. That kind of trust defined the early years.

Related: Want to Open a Restaurant? Here’s a Step-By-Step Guide

Ravenous Pig opened in 2007 and hit at the right moment. Orlando was hungry for something different. Petrakis and his wife Julie cooked food that felt thoughtful but accessible, rooted in craft without pretending to be precious. Success came quickly, but it did not come clean.

The real pressure arrived after they added two more restaurants, Cask & Larder and Swine & Sons. And at home, they were raising two young children. They were juggling raising a family, payroll anxiety and loans that were stacking faster than revenue. 

From the outside, it looked like momentum. Inside, Petrakis was doing mental math late at night, wondering if the numbers would clear.

“There were nights I didn’t know if we were going to make payroll,” he admits. “Everything looked great to everyone else, but it wasn’t great.”

That pressure eased only after an unexpected break. A chance conversation led to a licensing opportunity at the Orlando airport, allowing Petrakis to open Cask & Larder in a completely different environment. The royalty checks from that deal did not signal growth so much as survival. “Those checks kept everything going,” Petrakis says. 

That airport success also put Ravenous Pig on Disney’s radar, setting the stage for what came next and turning a fragile operation into one with real momentum.

Related: A Disaster Derailed His Career — But Taught Him the 1 Thing That All Successful People Know

During that stretch, he credits FinTech company inKind as a way he was able to access capital when options were limited. For many restaurateurs like Petrakis, traditional banks are often wary of the hospitality industry’s thin margins. By using inKind, he accessed capital that wasn’t tied to his personal credit score or a high-interest bank loan.

For him, inKind functioned less like a platform and more like a bridge to bigger things.

Over time, the pre-paid credit model via his partnership with inKind evolved into something his regulars embraced, turning financial relief into a loyalty and marketing engine that kept the lights on when margins were thin.

Looking back, the awards read like validation. But at the time, they felt distant. What mattered was endurance. Ravenous Pig survived because Petrakis kept showing up, kept trusting people and kept believing that if he stayed honest about the struggle, the work would eventually catch up.

Grounded through growth

As Ravenous Pig stabilized, something else was happening around it. Orlando was changing.

For years, the city’s food reputation lived in the shadow of its theme parks. That narrative never bothered Petrakis, but it never told the full story either. What he saw instead was a growing bench of young cooks, many of them coming through his own kitchens, ready to build something of their own.

“I’ve got former chefs opening restaurants all over this city,” Petrakis says. “That’s what excites me the most.”

He speaks about Orlando less like a market and more like a neighborhood that finally found its confidence. New ideas. New voices. A generation willing to take risks without waiting for permission. Petrakis sees himself as part of that momentum, but never the center of it.

That perspective comes from family.

Ravenous Pig has always been a family business. Petrakis and his wife worked every service together for the first five years. Ten services a week. Guests did not just eat the food, they watched the owners cook it, night after night.

“My wife and I didn’t miss a service for five years,” he says. “People saw us here every day. That mattered.”

That loyalty extends to his team. Some employees have been with him for nearly two decades. Others left and returned when they needed stability. Petrakis does not frame retention as a strategy. He frames it as respect.

“I want people to have a quality of life,” he says. “If someone needs to be home with their kids, I’ll cover for them.”

Related: Reddit Destroyed This Restaurant Over a $22 Grilled Cheese — Now It’s Out of Business

That mindset shapes how he chooses partners and approaches growth. Expansion only works when trust travels with it.

Today, Ravenous Pig feels like an anchor. A place that helped prove Orlando could support serious food without losing its soul.

“The goal now is simple,” Petrakis says. “Do good food. Take care of people. Stay rooted.”

In a city still writing its food story, that restraint may be his most influential move yet.

About Restaurant Influencers

Restaurant Influencers is brought to you by Toast, the powerful restaurant point-of-sale and management system that helps restaurants improve operations, increase sales and create a better guest experience.

Toast — Powering Successful Restaurants. Learn more about Toast.