How Cafe K owner Dan Kugler turned a Silver Spring kosher food order into a masterclass in hospitality—making Cafe K one of Silver Spring’s most talked-about kosher restaurants
In the heart of downtown Silver Spring, Cafe K makes an immediate impression. The café is modern, warm, and beautifully designed—inviting without trying too hard, elevated yet comfortable. It’s the kind of space that feels thoughtful the moment you walk in. But what truly defines Cafe K goes far beyond its look or its menu. Owner Dan Kugler brings an approach to hospitality that feels increasingly rare: attentive, instinctive, and deeply personal. His care for customers isn’t performative—it’s sincere, grounded, and quietly exceptional.
What follows is a Facebook post that captured that spirit in a single, unforgettable moment. Shared by a customer, the story spread quickly—not because it was planned, but because it was real. It offers a candid glimpse into the values behind Cafe K, and into the kind of leadership and humanity that leave a lasting impression far beyond one meal.
Bh
Hi Elan,
My name is _. We have not met, but I am deeply appreciative of you, your kosher food group, and all of the incredible chesed and achdut you have inspired across continents.
In my single years, I used to consider myself a foodie. My favorite activity was eating out. Over the last couple of years, however, I’ve found myself even more excited by posts about the weddings people run to attend, the tefillot for Israel’s finest, and anecdotes like your visit to the Ohel.
I’m writing to share a truly delicious story about a tzadik named Dan, the owner of a new restaurant in Silver Spring called Cafe K.
I live in Riverdale, NY, and today I was trying to send food to our friend’s mother—aka “Savta.” She had just spent weeks in Riverdale caring for her daughter and her four beautiful grandchildren, all under the age of ten (G-d bless them). I’m tired just thinking about it. After weeks of taking care of everyone, Savta returned home to Silver Spring—just in time to get the flu.
Our family had it. Savta’s family had it. It’s a monster. We all prayed she had escaped it in time, but she didn’t. It hit her hard.
I’m not very familiar with the kosher scene in Maryland, aside from reading a lot about David Cho’s and this group (great crunchy noodles) and that sweet son who always posts about his dinners with his mom (she has a great smile). I assumed I’d find plenty of options on Uber Eats, but there really weren’t many restaurants that delivered.
I placed an order through Cafe K, relieved to find something, but when it came time to pay, it switched to “pickup only,” and they were closing at 3:00 PM. If I had more time, I might have panicked less—but this Syrian woman has Aleppo genetics that make it physically impossible to make any Savta wait for food.
I called the restaurant and asked for the manager. Dan, the owner, answered the phone. I explained the story about Savta and asked if he would deliver, holding my breath for his response.
He didn’t hesitate for a millisecond.
“We don’t deliver,” he said, “but I’m going to take your order and deliver it myself.”
He then added that he was on his way to the hospital because his son was having surgery—and he would deliver it on the way.
I was stunned. I actually froze and didn’t know what to say next. I had fully prepared myself for several rounds of imploring, and I was not above bribery. Honestly, if I were in his position, I don’t think I’d have the presence of mind to make a food delivery stop on the way to the hospital.
But it didn’t end there.
Dan insisted there would be no charge for the delivery. He included a handwritten note to Savta in the bag, and about twenty minutes later, my phone was ringing off the hook.
Savta had received a full feast, hand-delivered by this shaliach mitzvah, and thank G-d, she was happy.
Two minutes later, Dan called me to let me know the mission was a success. He mentioned he was calling from his personal cell phone and told me to keep the number in case I ever needed anything in the future.
I have never enjoyed placing—and paying for—food more in my life. I thanked him profusely. He was incredibly modest and mentioned that he opened this business because he genuinely cares about hospitality.
Emet. His tent is open on all sides. Avraham Avinu better watch his six.
May Dan’s son and Savta have immediate and complete recoveries.
May Cafe K’s business—and Dan’s parnassah—explode beyond nature.
Mi camocha Yisrael.
No.
One.
I know things look grim these days, but Am Yisrael should not worry.
The light is strong.
Mashiach is coming.
And the kosher food is going to be banging.
Everywhere.
Forever.
G-d willing, we will all see each other very soon, in health and good times.
I’ll be the one with the endless table of matza
and an Islanders cap.
Stories like this are the reason Cafe K is already resonating so strongly within the community. In an era where convenience often replaces connection, Dan Kugler and Cafe K remind us what hospitality can still look like when it’s driven by genuine care. It’s not just about kosher food, or beautiful space—it’s about people, responsibility, and showing up when it matters most. And that’s why this café is quickly becoming one of Silver Spring’s most talked-about places, for reasons that go far deeper than what’s on the menu.
