Actors Elizabeth Bunch and Chris Hutchison were both living and working in New York City at the same time, but they didn’t meet until a 2000 performance of A Midsummer Night’s Dream at Minneapolis’s Guthrie Theater. After working together on stage, they hit the road on the Midwest tour. “When that show ended, we went back to New York City, and we were just friends for like two years before we started dating,” Bunch says. At one point, they even went on a double date, trying to fix each other up with their friends.

Then came the night in 2002. Hutchison had been in a show uptown that evening, “ and nobody came to see it,” he says. “I called her up to see if she wanted to go out for a drink.” Bunch, who had recently gotten out of a long-term relationship, was in her apartment watching When Harry Met Sally, but changed her plans. She put the takeout pasta she had already ordered in the fridge and went out with Hutchison. They’ve been together ever since.

Later that fall, Bunch came to Houston on a contract with the Alley Theatre for the world premiere of Frame 312. Over the next couple of years, Bunch and Hutchison both booked shows at the Downtown theater. The same year they married, in August 2005, they both appeared onstage at the Alley during its 2005–2006 season. The following year, they were offered spots in the resident company, where they’ve worked for the last two decades, often performing in the same shows.

Later this year, they will appear opposite each other in Misery, a play based on Stephen King’s novel. Hutchison plays author Paul Sheldon, who finds himself recovering in the home of superfan Annie Wilkes (Bunch). Things go south quickly when Annie finds out Paul is set to kill off her favorite character in his books.

Bunch and Hutchison are often asked if it’s hard to work together. “ It's way harder raising two kids and taking care of the puppy and doing stuff on the home, getting the car inspected,” Hutchison says. “Sometimes work is the relief and the easier part of all of that.”

They’ve lived this creative life because they have the Alley and their Houston home base. “ Being in [the resident] company, we were able to have a family,” Bunch says. “ Being at the Alley [gave us] a kind of stability that actors never get. And it's huge. We're so grateful for that.” —Holly Beretto

We’ve already detailed Trenton Hancock Doyle and JooYoung Choi’s sweet and nerdy story of falling in love over Superman: The Movie quotes, the Muppets, and Korean food. And they continue to be couple goals three years later.

Both accomplished artists, who work in a wide range of media, they say the secret to a happy marriage is giving one another space to explore their creativity. “Both in life and in art, it helps create an equilibrium together. And I think that feeds our individual practices,” Doyle says.

They first met in 2010, when Doyle visited Massachusetts College of Art and Design as a featured speaker. Choi was a student there at the time and attended his talk at the invitation of her friends. At the time, the pair were among the few fine artists working with a bright, cartoony aesthetic inspired by comic books and pop culture; Choi knew she had to go up to Doyle and make an introduction afterward. Six years later, they got married at Los Angeles’s Griffith Park Tunnel, better known as the entrance to Toontown in Who Framed Roger Rabbit?, one of their favorite movies.

The couple discusses how the nature of their shared profession sometimes involves extreme ups and downs, but they always find the time necessary to uplift one another. “It's always been kind of cosmic, where maybe one person needs that extra energy, that extra, like, ‘Can Do It!’ type of feeling, and the other one has it,” Choi says. “It's just been kind of magical.”

Doyle and Choi were between projects during the recent freeze that shut Houston down for one chilly January weekend, and they enjoyed their time as each other’s “captive audience” (as Doyle described it), watching movies and TV shows together and trading ideas for future creations. —Meredith Nudo

If you still haven’t met your person, Graham Painter recommends to “look dumb at all times.”

After a few years of being in Thailand—and learning the language—Graham was fairly used to being out and about, and on the night he met Benchawan Jabthong Painter, best known as Chef G, he was particularly excited to sport a bold look. Graham recalls his outfit as a braided goatee that reached his chest, a “plaid, loud” sport coat, and Cazal sunglasses. As he walked into a restaurant in the central business district of Bangkok, he was definitely feeling good about himself, he says—but Chef G, a stranger at the time, thought he looked ridiculous. She recalls judging his decision to wear sunglasses inside, telling her friend in Thai, “Oh my gosh, look at that dude. He thinks he looks that cool.” What she didn’t know? Graham heard every word and understood. Rather than take offense, he used it as an excuse to go up to her. “She was just beautiful, and she was with her friends in the same restaurant, so I went over there, and I was able to embarrass her by speaking Thai,” he says. “She didn’t know I understood.”

Chef G was indeed embarrassed, but her comment didn’t deter Graham. Instead, he considered it the perfect segue to get her number. They began talking regularly and going on dates, but what actually solidified the relationship for him was a trip to the beach with friends.

Graham had a motorcycle, so he decided to drive Chef G to their destination on his bike. Somewhere along the way, Graham forgot he had her on the back of his motorcycle, and when a car next to him started to egg him on, he says he dropped the hammer and raced them. This lasted about 45 minutes until the highway ended and became a local road. It wasn’t until Graham hit a stoplight that he again felt the extra weight behind him and remembered Chef G was on the back. “I sheepishly looked behind me, and there's G. She's not holding on to me. She's not holding on to the bike. Hands [are] by her side, cool as a cucumber,” Graham says. All the while, Chef G says she was hoping he’d drive faster.

After the ordeal, Graham called his father in disbelief, and all his dad said was, “Marry her right now.” In 2015, two or so years after meeting, the couple officially tied the knot, and since then, they’ve grown into a restaurateur powerhouse. From relocating to Houston to opening the beloved Street to Kitchen, the pair says every night feels like one big dinner party. —Sofia Gonzalez

FotoFest finally gave Hillerbrand + Magsamen their due last year, with a retrospective covering their impressive 25-year multimedia careers. The husband-and-wife team of Mary Magsamen and Stephan Hillerbrand turned their home into a studio where art is and can be found literally everywhere—from the kitchen to the garage, and even a homemade spaceship that once took off from the backyard.

Together, they’ve raised hell as worthy successors to the Fluxus movement and raised two children, who often appear in their surrealist interpretations of domesticity. Recent works, however, examine what it’s like to live as empty nesters now that their kids are in college.

As collaborators and spouses whose professional lives intertwine directly with their private lives, they’ve come up with a method of setting boundaries to prevent themselves from getting overwhelmed. “We call it the ‘24-hour rule.’ One of us has an idea, then we have to wait 24 hours to tell the other person,” Magsamen says. “We're not bombarding each other with ideas all the time, and it gives some space to each of us to see if it's a good idea or not.”

But before the 24-hour rule came into play, their first meeting was as sculpture students at the Michigan-based Cranbrook Academy of Art. Hillerbrand loves telling this story of the fateful evening at a speakeasy-style bar: “Next to me, I heard this conversation. It was all about theory and history, and it was a really rich conversation,” he says. “So, I turn around, and there's Mary. And Mary and I get into this wonderful debate. First day in school, rolling up our sleeves."

That lasted for two years before they realized they were in love, so they moved in together, made their way to New York, had kids, relocated to Houston, and subsequently became local legends in the art scene. —MN

Eastside mainstay Koffeteria is known for earning James Beard semifinalist status in 2024 and 2025, slinging some of Houston’s most delicious and innovative sweet treats. But the love story behind its founding proves just as much of a delightful confection as its pastries. Owners Vanarin Kuch and Andreas Hager started dating in December 2016 while both were living and working in New York City, the former as a pastry chef and the latter as an opera director. They met via OKCupid and moved in four months later because, as Kuch jokes, “rent is one of the top three conversations of any New Yorker.”

After stints in Cincinnati, where Hager completed his artistic director’s diploma, and Chicago, the couple eventually made their way back to Kuch’s home city of Houston; his parents still live here, and even helped find a home for Koffeteria on the Eastside, where he grew up (his uncle also owned Silver House, a Cambodian-Chinese restaurant on Chartres Street). Kuch has fond memories of playing Street Fighter and other arcade games in front of the Kim Hung Supermarket, which features a "closed" sign. “That was the old Vietnamtown, old Chinatown, if you will… It's just kind of interesting to be across the street from that grocery store, and it kind of operating, but not operating,” Kuch says. 

The husbands opened Koffeteria in 2019, just months before the COVID-19 pandemic. But they were able to keep baking and making coffee together, and it’s gotten to the point where Hager doesn’t see himself returning to the opera world. “I think it's very difficult for me to work for somebody else now that I've been my own boss for such a long time… The business is very important to me as well. It's very difficult to leave it for three or four weeks at a time or just step away entirely,” he says. “…I think when you live together and work together, there's a certain amount of codependence that develops.” —MN

Our 2025 Houstonian of the Year nominees David and Dara Landry, appropriately enough, met at a bookstore. “I had just graduated from college, and me and my friend were like, ‘We graduated from college. We need to find some boyfriends.’ And so we read a book that said a good place to meet guys was a library or a bookstore,” Dara says. The two used to go to happy hour at Kona Grill in the Galleria, and Borders bookstore was conveniently located right next door. They went in, "perusing the aisles, looking for men, and David was working behind the counter,” she recalls.

It was 2008 around the holiday season, and their first conversation was about the mass-surveillance implications of the Elf on a Shelf. The two became an official couple a little less than a year later and wed in 2014.

Together, they launched Class, initially as an online bookstore and pop-up, in 2020, after the Landrys received 10 weeks of entrepreneurship training through the Emancipation Economic Development Council. By 2022, they had moved into a sleek brick-and-mortar space with the minimalist style of an art gallery. The Landrys continue to operate Class, not only selling books, but also offering a community center for neighborhood meetings, poetry readings, storytimes for children, and more.

David says that some of their best ideas, including the bookstore, came to fruition because they considered each other’s opinions and thoughts. “When you listen to one another, take heed to input, it can blend into something great,” he says, referring to Class. “We had never done anything like that before, and so it was like, What were the things that Dara wanted that were important to Dara, that needed to be included? What were the things that were important to me that needed to be included? And that showed up everywhere, from how the store is built to the books that we carry.”

P.S. Did you know you can rent the shop out for Valentine’s Day, curated with books specifically for you and your date? Makes perfect sense, considering where the story of Class began. —MN

If you love dining at the Michelin-starred Musaafer, thank the local newspaper.

Husband-and-wife duo Shammi and Mithu Malik opened Musaafer as the city’s first Indian fine dining restaurant in May 2020. In just four years, the Galleria establishment earned its first Michelin star, retaining the prestigious award in 2025. But before the glitz and glamour of restaurant ownership, the Maliks were just young adults navigating college life.

Mithu remembers being somewhat aware of Shammi, but her initial impression wasn’t necessarily positive. “He was the cool guy with the bike and the girls and all of that,” she says with a laugh. “Our departments were right next to each other, but he didn’t know of my existence.” Both were “not getting luck in the sense of finding the right partners,” Shammi explains, and so eventually, their parents took charge.

One group of parents placed a matrimonial ad in their local paper, and the other family responded. (Arranged marriages, Mithu notes, are common in India, but individuals also have the option to say no to the matches. Neither Shammi nor Mithu said no.) The two families met and liked each other, so they introduced Shammi to Mithu. “My dad was in love with my wife before I was,” Shammi chuckles.

The pair went on a date to a romantic restaurant in the hills, which meant a long drive. “There was an instant comfort level,” Mithu says. Shammi knew “almost instantly” that Mithu was going to be his wife, so he proposed in the middle of their first date. “Let me think about it,” Mithu said, but she later agreed, officially beginning a relationship that has lasted for years.

As newlyweds, they moved to Lagos, Nigeria, where Shammi was working, and started their first business venture together: a South African pizza franchise. The duo later expanded their business, opening multiple concepts in Lagos, including coffee shops and fish-and-chips restaurants. Eventually, the pair opened a fast-casual Indian restaurant while homesick for food from home. Their businesses grew, and thanks to mutual friends who lived in Houston, the Maliks moved to H-Town, where they opened Musaafer. A second location opened in New York City last summer.

Over the years, with growing success, so much has changed, but the Maliks feel they haven’t changed at all. “I think we’re still the same. We enjoy the same things. We still have the same values. We still respect each other for the same principles that we hold dear to us,” Mithu says. “I keep telling her every time, whenever I get a chance, that I have fallen more in love,” Shammi says. Beyond love, there’s an “immense amount” of respect, he adds. —Erica Cheng

A few years after opening Backstreet Cafe, Tracy Vaught was on the hunt for a dishwasher. One of her busboys recommended a friend of his, someone he knew through soccer. Little did she know that this would lead her to meeting her future husband, chef Hugo Ortega.

Before the two met, Ortega was working two jobs after moving from California with his cousin. By day, he worked as a busboy at the former Bull & Bar restaurant Downtown; at night, he cleaned offices—but when the economy took a downturn, he was laid off from both jobs.

Things got tough quickly, and soon enough, Ortega became homeless, living over on Dunlavy near Richmond Avenue, Vaught says. At the time of Ortega’s interview with her at Backstreet Cafe, Vaught says she had no idea. He started the same day as his interview as a dishwasher.

Ortega didn’t know any English, but he began to learn words like “fork,” “knife,” “spoon,” and phrases like “May I take your plate?” He was promoted to busboy, then to line cook, and romance between Vaught and Ortega began to blossom. One day, she rented a bus to Galveston to treat restaurant staff to a beach day off. That night, Vaught stayed behind on the island, and the day after, Ortega was knocking on her door. “Looking back on this, I think this [was] the bravest, most ballsy thing,” she says. That was the start of their relationship.

Ortega eventually moved from Backstreet to work for the chef at the now-closed Rice Village Italian restaurant Prego, before returning to school at Houston Community College with only an eighth-grade education. Vaught helped Ortega with his English, and though he struggled with writing, he refused to give up. Despite his fears, he took every test in school orally and passed. “I think he felt it was a turning point in his life, and made him proud,” she says.

From there, the two (with some help from family) opened their namesake restaurant, Hugo’s, in 2002. Today, Ortega and Vaught operate six restaurants in Houston through their hospitality group, H-Town Restaurant Group, and Ortega's cuisine has become a defining part of Houston's dining scene. —SG

Stay in Houston long enough, and you’re almost guaranteed to run into either ABC 13 reporter Miya Shay or her husband, Texas Democratic leader and Rep. Gene Wu (District 137). You’re likely to spot Shay on television in the evenings, and maybe you’ll see Wu on the small screen, too, breaking quorum, addressing politicians, speaking at community events, or interviewing with local journalists. After all, the pair did meet on air.

Wu, then a prosecutor, was invited to ABC 13 to speak about a 2009 incident where former lawmaker Betty Brown suggested that voters of Asian descent adopt names that were “easier for Americans to deal with.” Shay interviewed him and thought nothing of it, later inviting Wu back to the show twice more. After his third TV appearance, Wu finally asked Shay on a date.

Shay says her first impression of Wu wasn’t much different from what everyone else thought. He was giving more “prosecutor” and “community activist" than "boyfriend." Wu, on the other hand, felt Shay was totally out of his league. “She’s a smart professional, beautiful, and I don’t know," he says. "I think I probably just didn’t ask her before because she seemed that out of reach."

Their first date was a comfortable summertime dim sum lunch in Asiatown, which soon evolved. In December 2011, just before the pair boarded a flight to Chicago to meet Shay’s mother, Wu and Shay received an email from Texas Rep. Scott Hochberg announcing that he was not running for reelection. Wu fell into action, arranging his bid for Hochberg’s seat, which meant he spent the entire Chicago trip glued to his cellphone. It paid off: He succeeded Hochberg, officially taking his position in 2013.

Today, both Wu and Shay have solidified their impressive careers, becoming mainstays in Houston’s political and news scenes. Despite their resumes, the two chafe a bit at the “power couple” name. Their jobs are less about praise and more about a desire to help others. Outside of work, the pair are seen running around the city with their two sons. The entire family, they say, is enamored with food and spends their free time in the kitchen, cooking dinners, experimenting with sourdough, and watching reruns of Anthony Bourdain’s travel shows. —EC