Anton Kinloch garnishing food with cinnamon at Lone Wolf Cocktail Bar in Kingston, NY.

Meet the Chef: We are Upstate NY with Anton Kinloch of Lone Wolf

By inside + out | August 29, 2025

Lone Wolf in Kingston, NY has been lauded for its masterful cocktail menu, a vibrant element we explored in our first exclusive exclusive interview with mixologist and co-owner, Anton Kinloch. Yet, behind the bar’s spirited creations, a captivating culinary story unfolds, rooted in a journey less about pristine white jackets and more about the raw, visceral education in a professional kitchen.

Our latest conversation with Anton reveals his inspiring path to becoming a chef, beginning not with a grand ambition, but with the undeniable pull of a place where dedication transcended credentials. From a chaotic entry as a 14-year-old Busser to his rapid ascent to Sous Chef, the kitchen became a crucible of belonging for Anton, shaping a philosophy of food that prioritizes passion and skill above all else.

Anton’s profound connection to the culinary world, further refined at the Culinary Institute of America and forged alongside unsung heroes of the line, continues to inform the spirit of Lone Wolf’s food menu. It’s a spirit imbued with the impactful memories of celebratory dinners and inspired by the candid wisdom of esteemed celebrity chefs. Anton’s formative experiences, including the exhilaration of navigating a chaotic Saturday night service while finding moments of joy and camaraderie, underscore a deep-seated love for the craft. This perspective suggests that Lone Wolf’s food is not merely an accompaniment to fine coctails, but a compelling narrative of dedication, community, and the profound power of a well-crafted meal. More below in the next installment of our Meet the Chef series with Chef Anton Kinloch.

INSIDE + OUT: The last time we interviewed you, it was all about the cocktails at Lone Wolf. We want to know about the food too. What inspired you to become a chef? What was your journey?

Anton Kinloch: I didn’t set out to be a cook because I had some romantic dream of white jackets and Michelin stars. I started because kitchens were one of the few places where hard work mattered more than a résumé. My first kitchen gig was at the age of fourteen, a trial by fire gig as a busser one night, into the dish pit the next. Within a few short years, I clawed my way to Sous Chef. It was chaos, profanity, and heat, and for the first time in my life, I felt like I belonged somewhere. The Culinary Institute of America gave me the formal chops, but most of my education came from standing elbow-to-elbow with cooks who could turn a pile of scraps into something that could stop conversations mid-sentence.

Earliest visceral or impactful food memory?

Anton Kinloch: Barnaby’s Steakhouse, New Paltz, age 10. Quarterly “fancy” night out with my mom. Dimly lit booth, sizzling steak, baked potato the size of a football. It wasn’t just the food; it was a ritual, the idea that dining out could be an event. That stuck with me. It’s what I’m still chasing every night at Lone Wolf.

“I didn’t set out to be a cook because I had some romantic dream of white jackets and Michelin stars. I started because kitchens were one of the few places where hard work mattered more than a résumé.”

What chefs inspired you the most, and what was your favorite experience as an up-and-coming chef?

Anton Kinloch: Anthony Bourdain for his brutal honesty. David Chang for proving you could be irreverent and still deadly serious about your food. Every line cook who’s quietly holding a kitchen together for minimum wage and a few shift beers, those guys are the real rock stars. My favorite early memory? Getting absolutely buried on a Saturday night at Barnaby’s on the sauté station with 6 pans going simultaneously and realizing that somehow, in the middle of that storm, we all started laughing, smiling, and singing like idiots because nothing else mattered in that moment. I knew right then that I was in the right line of work.

How do you create your menus at Lone Wolf? Is there a regional influence?

Anton Kinloch: We start with flavor and story, not just geography. Some dishes pull from my wife Lisa’s Cambodian heritage, some from my own Hudson Valley roots, and some from whatever obsession is rattling around in my head that moment that I can’t seem to shake. If there’s an influence, it’s more “Southeast Asian meets farm-to-table.” The Hudson Valley is where I reside, but the dishes are where all the passports get stamped.

Where do you see your culinary dreams taking you, and maybe the next iteration of Lone Wolf?

Anton Kinloch: Lone Wolf is cocktail-centric with food riding shotgun, a concept that is unique to Kingston. The next iteration would likely be a revamp of Fuchsia Tiki, our first concept, by bringing tiki back to the Hudson Valley – something we’ve been wanting desperately – where the drinks are keeping the pace, with food as the ancillary component. The only constant will be the obsession with education, flavor, and a refusal to settle for food or drinks that are “good enough.”

What do you love most about living + working in the Hudson Valley?

Anton Kinloch: It’s beautiful, it’s unpredictable, and it’s full of characters. You get old-school locals who’ve been here for generations who are salty about the changes and New York City expats who came for the space and stayed for the scene. It’s a strange, messy, inspiring mix of community, and if you can win over both crowds, you’ve done something right.

Tell us about the hospitality scene in Kingston and the local businesses you rely on to be successful?

Anton Kinloch: The venues that have opened in the last few years and taken every punch the community could throw. The ones who were side-eyed, second-guessed, and whispered about, but still unlocked their doors every day and pushed forward. They’ve raised the standard for all of us, proving that Kingston’s hospitality scene is evolving and that people are hungry for more innovation and for collaboration between the places they love.

What is your favorite thing to eat/cook when you’re home alone or with your family?

Anton Kinloch: A perfectly seared steak. No frills, no tweezered herbs, just satisfaction. That moment the pan hits, ripping hot, and the fat snaps and spits like fireworks. The smell of browned butter and rendered beef drifts through the kitchen, curling into every corner of the house. Edges crusted, deep mahogany, center blushing pink. Rest it just long enough to make yourself crazy, slice it against the grain, and hit it with a fistful of flaky salt. Eat it standing at the counter, juice running onto the cutting board, because plates are for people who care about presentation. With my son on the spectrum and still building his comfort zone with new foods, if he asks me for steak, that’s as good as any Michelin star I could ever hope to earn.

Tell us something about yourself that people might be surprised to learn.

Anton Kinloch: I’m a cook by trade who stumbled face-first into the bar and never left. I was supposed to open a restaurant, not a cocktail bar, but life doesn’t give a damn about your plans. It’ll kick them down the stairs and pour you a double instead. Somewhere along the way, I chased bar knowledge the same way I chased flavor – hard, fast, and to the end. That led me to the BAR 5-Day Program, the spirits world’s equivalent of the Master Sommelier exam, five days of relentless study, blind tasting, technical drills, and the kind of pressure that makes even seasoned pros sweat. I passed on the first try. Now I teach in the program, paying forward the same hard truths and deep dives that shaped me. But I don’t hang my certificates & credentials on the wall, paper doesn’t shake a cocktail or sear a steak. I’d rather let my food, drinks, and the ambiance do the talking. If you’re paying attention, they’ll tell you everything you need to know about me.

“I’m a cook by trade who stumbled face-first into the bar and never left. I was supposed to open a restaurant, not a cocktail bar, but life doesn’t give a damn about your plans. It’ll kick them down the stairs and pour you a double instead.”

Name three things you always have in your fridge/pantry.

Anton Kinloch: Soy sauce. Fish sauce. Vermouth (always refrigerate your vermouth).

What’s missing in the area that you wish we had?

Anton Kinloch: More venues that give a damn about what’s in the glass. Too many “cocktail programs” are nothing more than Pinterest mood boards brought to life with bottom-shelf booze and a soda gun, dressed up to convince the public it’s “craft.” It’s lazy. It’s insulting. And it’s a waste of the guest’s time and money. The bar isn’t a cute add-on to keep people busy while the kitchen gets its act together; it’s half your profit and the soul of the room once the plates are cleared. Train your bartenders like you train your cooks. Learn your spirits. Invest in your program. Because if your drinks are weak, sweet, and forgettable, no one’s coming back for a second round, no matter how nice your chicken parm is.

“Too many “cocktail programs” are nothing more than Pinterest mood boards brought to life with bottom-shelf booze and a soda gun, dressed up to convince the public it’s “craft.” It’s lazy. It’s insulting.”

What do you listen to when you’re cooking?

Anton Kinloch: Depends on the mood. ’90s Hip Hop, when I need to move like my life depends on it, sharp, fast, no wasted motion. Charles Bradley, when I want to brood, sink into the grit and let it slow-burn as I make sauces or syrups. The Ramones or The Clash for everything else, because there’s no wrong moment for three chords and the truth.

What was the best dish or meal you’ve ever had, and who made it?

Anton Kinloch: Le Cinq in Paris. I couldn’t tell you what I ate; those details dissolved somewhere between the curated wine courses that accompanied the multitude of dishes and the surreal realization that I was actually at a three-Michelin-star restaurant. But I remember how it felt; there was a palpable excitement with each course that was delivered to us. The staff moved like they’d been choreographed by God, every gesture was precise, their movements invisible and perfect.

That dining experience was the “aha” moment. The line in the sand where I understood what real excellence looked like. I wanted to deliver that back home in the Hudson Valley. If I could make someone feel even a fraction of what I’d felt that night, I’d be on the right track to greatness.

Lone Wolf in Kingston NY