jacob jin of Johns Creek on Life, Lessons & Legacy

We recently had the chance to connect with jacob jin and have shared our conversation below.

jacob, really appreciate you sharing your stories and insights with us. The world would have so much more understanding and empathy if we all were a bit more open about our stories and how they have helped shaped our journey and worldview. Let’s jump in with a fun one: Have any recent moments made you laugh or feel proud?
Lately, what fills me with the most quiet joy and pride is seeing our regulars walk in — and greeting them by name, knowing their order by heart. Sometimes I even start preparing their favorite dish before they even say a word. Those little moments — the smiles, the familiar ease, the feeling that they’re at home — remind me that this isn’t just a restaurant. It’s a place where relationships grow, where people feel seen. And being part of that, day after day, means the world to me.

Can you briefly introduce yourself and share what makes you or your brand unique?
I’m Jacob Jin — a sushi chef and someone deeply curious about how food can bring people together. This journey really began at home. My wife, who couldn’t enjoy raw fish at first, inspired me to start experimenting in the kitchen. I began grilling, searing, and creating bold, playful sauces so she could truly enjoy sushi. She became my first and most honest taste tester, and in many ways, that journey of discovery became the heart of Sushi Momo.

My philosophy is simple: Sushi for all. Stories for each.

I believe sushi should be for everyone — whether it’s sashimi or sushi rolls, raw or cooked, paired with bold and creative sauces like gochujang butter, chimichurri, or even truffle. Some like it traditional, others enjoy a playful twist — and for those looking beyond sushi, we also offer ramen, Japanese curry, and house-made bento boxes inspired by comforting Japanese flavors.

But beyond the food, Sushi Momo is about connection — creating a space where people can gather, share a meal, and write their own stories. That’s what makes this journey so meaningful to me.

Appreciate your sharing that. Let’s talk about your life, growing up and some of topics and learnings around that. Who taught you the most about work?
When I think about who taught me the most about work, it wasn’t just one person; it was a collection of people and experiences that shaped how I see work as more than a job. They taught me that work is a responsibility, a craft, and ultimately, a journey of growth.

It began with the Yoon family. Back when I was simply a sushi chef in California, they offered me the chance to become a co-owner in a restaurant. That moment changed everything. Through them, I first stepped into entrepreneurship and began to understand what it truly means to lead—to shoulder the weight of decisions, to take ownership, and to grow through it all.

Then came a chef I worked with, a mentor and friend unlike any other. Among the many sushi chefs I’ve worked with, he stood out. He began making sushi in his youth in Japan and continued well into his 60s. I remember him once saying, “If I could be born again, I’d still want to be a sushi chef.” Despite his decades of experience, he carried himself with such humility and reverence for the craft that it left a deep impression on me. From him, I didn’t just learn how to make sushi—I learned how to approach Japanese cuisine with seriousness, respect, and a sense of lifelong curiosity. He taught me that mastering a craft begins with the right attitude.

And perhaps most meaningfully, I’ve been shaped by the many staff members I’ve worked alongside over the years. We often spend more waking hours at work than at home, and in many ways, they’ve been my second family. They came from different backgrounds, with different goals, but together we created something that mattered. Their presence, support, and shared effort taught me patience, leadership, and what it means to grow not just as a business owner, but as a person.

Looking back, I know I wouldn’t be where I am today if it weren’t for these people. I count myself incredibly fortunate to have crossed paths with them—people who didn’t just teach me how to work, but how to work with heart, purpose, and humility.

If you could say one kind thing to your younger self, what would it be?
As a child, I was always hungry for praise. A kind word could lift me up, but the absence of recognition would leave me discouraged. Sometimes I wasn’t even sure if what I was striving for was truly my own desire, or simply the hope of someone else’s approval.

With time, I realized something important: the recognition of others is like fireworks—bright and dazzling, but fleeting. It disappears as quickly as it comes, often leaving a deeper emptiness behind. The recognition I give myself, however, is different. When I honestly acknowledge my own effort and growth, it stays with me. It doesn’t depend on conditions or performance; it grounds me and allows me to keep moving forward.

If I could speak to my younger self, I would say this:
“Don’t try to prove your worth through praise. Your value has always been within you. Once you trust that, you’ll find yourself stronger—and freer—than you ever imagined.”

I think our readers would appreciate hearing more about your values and what you think matters in life and career, etc. So our next question is along those lines. What’s a belief or project you’re committed to, no matter how long it takes?
My ultimate dream is to build a sustainable community of business owners who grow alongside their local neighborhoods. After starting two businesses, I’ve come to realize that running a business is a lot like creating a work of art—every element matters. There’s the operational know-how, the legal complexities, the skill of managing a team, and the constant balancing act of wearing many hats. And for many of us, we’re not just owners—we’re also parents, caretakers, and community members, all at once.

I believe the restaurant industry, at its core, is also an education industry. Building a great team starts with building the owner first. Owners need training, guidance, and, importantly, mental and emotional support. We talk about customer service all the time, but rarely about “owner service.” A healthy, well-supported owner is the foundation for a healthy team.

Time is one of the scarcest resources for an owner, which is why having someone—or even a system—that cares for them is essential. Technology, especially AI, can now provide incredible access to knowledge and information. But when it comes to the human side of leadership—empathy, encouragement, perspective—nothing can replace human touch.

When an owner is grounded, they can build not just a thriving business but also a stable home. And when enough of those homes are strong, they weave into the fabric of a healthier community. To some, this work might seem unprofitable, slow, or even unnecessary. But I believe it is essential—and someone has to do it. When tied closely to the local community, this kind of network can become a self-sustaining ecosystem that benefits everyone it touches.

This isn’t a quick project—it’s a long game. But it’s the kind of work that, once in place, can ripple across generations.

Thank you so much for all of your openness so far. Maybe we can close with a future oriented question. If you retired tomorrow, what would your customers miss most?
If I retired tomorrow, I believe our customers would miss far more than just the food.
People often say they come to a restaurant simply to eat, but I’ve always believed it’s much more than that—it’s the sum of flavors, atmosphere, and the connections shared around the table.

At Sushi Momo, I’ve watched strangers become friends over a shared platter, seen families celebrate milestones with a favorite roll, and heard laughter spill out from tables long after the meal was finished. The taste of the food fades, but the feeling of those moments endures.

I hope our guests would remember the way this space made them feel—welcomed, comfortable, and connected. That they would think of the conversations that unfolded here, the joy of being with someone they love, and the simple beauty of pausing life for a moment to share a meal.

For me, a restaurant is not just a place to dine. It’s a place where food, people, and memories come together—where what you take with you is so much more than what was on the plate.

Contact Info:

• Website: https://www.sushimomoga.com/
• Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/sushimomo_ga
• Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=61561713274991
• Yelp: https://yelp.to/Z9Tg0DUAqW

Image Credits
-Richard Ahn
-Say J Studio