Queer. Black. Woman. Jhy Coulter calls it “The Trifecta.” In the eyes of the world, that intersection can be isolating. Too much, too bold, too complicated. But for Coulter, it’s everything. And it’s the foundation she’s building on.
You can taste it in the food. You can feel it when you step into her restaurant, Orange by Devoured, in Kansas City’s Martini Corner.
But none of it happened overnight.
Before the signature orange pizza boxes and the custom crusts and curated playlists, there was a backyard. In the earliest days of the pandemic, when everything was uncertain, Jhy rolled out dough and fired up a grill. What began as a pop-up, Devoured Pizza, wasn’t supposed to be a business. At the time it was merely survival and a hustle born out of necessity. Her pies were hand-crafted and deeply personal. She strayed away from imitating big-city styles and instead sought to create something entirely new. Something that spoke.
And people listened.
Through word of mouth and community support, Devoured quickly outgrew the backyard. What she thought would be temporary turned into a local obsession. And in August 2023, Coulter opened the doors to her first brick-and-mortar restaurant. She called it Orange by Devoured. A nod to the striking orange boxes that had become part of her vibrant brand, but also to the unapologetic brightness she brings into every space she touches.
There’s nothing generic about her approach either.
From the start, Coulter made it clear: she wasn’t here to blend in. “I won’t water down my vision,” she says. And she means it. Even when offering classics like cheese and pepperoni, she elevates them, turning the familiar into something worthy of reverence. That’s the thread running through everything she does: take what’s expected, and make it unforgettable.
But, like so many Black entrepreneurs, behind the bursting flavors and confident branding is a story of grit, grief, and growth.
Before launching Devoured, Coulter spent years in nonprofit work. She was used to pouring into others, measuring impact by the lives touched and problems solved. Running a restaurant, she admits, feels different.
The metrics aren’t as clear. The wins are harder to quantify. “It’s hard to fight every fight,” she says. There are moments she wonders if she’s doing enough. If feeding people, if creating space, is really as valuable as it feels.
Ultimately, the answer is yes. Because what Coulter has built is bigger than pizza.
At Orange by Devoured, all people feel safe, in a city and at a time where Black folks, queer folks, immigrants, and other marginalized groups are under attack and whose physical and psychological spaces of safety are dwindling. Here is a place where they feel full and feel seen.
That alone is rare, and for queer Black people in particular, it’s enough. The space reflects the same aura she leads with: authenticity, warmth, and a refusal to shrink.
There’s also real leadership in how she runs her kitchen. Like NCAA coach Dawn Staley, for instance, who leads with soul and sets the tone for everyone around her, Coulter is shaping culture from the inside out. The energy is collaborative, not competitive. And even with such a precarious economy, and with her business operating within the broader Martini Corner district, she sees her neighbors as allies.
And that philosophy paid off.
This year, Orange by Devoured won a grant to build an outdoor parklet, expanding its footprint and inviting even more people into the experience.
And for any of us who have ever been involved in entrepreneurship, we know how easy it can be to put our own mental and physical health to the side for the sake of the survival of the business. This is especially true for Black entrepreneurs. But even amidst these challenges, Coulter is learning to care for herself, too, and this is an important model for others.
Small things, a journal, a walk with her dog, have become vital acts not only for herself but also in how she shows up for her people, her customers, and her team. After years of running on empty, she’s learning to refuel without guilt. “Now that my staff is more self-sufficient, I can breathe a little,” she says. Not because the work is done, but because she knows it has to be sustainable. That’s absolutely wisdom that many of us could learn from.
As Orange by Devoured approaches its one-year anniversary, it’s clear Coulter has built something truly meaningful for the community.
“I’m not just trying to sell pizza,” she says. “I’m trying to create something that matters.”And she is. Every pie, every playlist, every table at Orange by Devoured tells you what Jhy Coulter already knows: the trifecta is a force. And it’s not going anywhere.
