When Justice Figueras lost his corporate wine job during COVID, he and his wife Shannon Leocata Figueras didn't spiral—they pivoted. After years working in hospitality across the country, they landed in Fishtown and found what they'd been looking for: a place to build something entirely their own. LeoFigs, which officially opened June 10 after soft launches in April and May, is the result: a restaurant upstairs, a functioning winery in the basement, and a market threading through the middle. It's not a gimmick. It's a fully realized vision of what happens when two people with deep industry experience stop working for other people's dreams.
The restaurant side serves modern American comfort food that tastes like people know what they're doing. Fresh sourdough focaccia arrives warm with enough character to stand on its own. Applewood-smoked mushroom pâté shows restraint and technique. Housemade pasta gets dressed simply—the way it should be. Duck confit and sage-crusted prime rib anchor the menu with the kind of confidence that comes from knowing your ingredients matter more than your descriptions. Shannon and Justice aren't trying to reinvent comfort food; they're respecting it.
The basement operation is where their ambition becomes most visible. Small-batch wines made in-house aren't an afterthought or a novelty—they're the reason this restaurant exists. "We're not just throwing things down in the basement," Shannon says. "We're crafting wines that I believe a master of wine would be proud of." That's not false modesty or marketing speak. It's a statement about what they believe they're capable of, and frankly, it's refreshing. Too many new restaurants hedge their bets. LeoFigs doesn't.
What makes this moment important isn't just that Philadelphia got its first restaurant-winery hybrid. It's that this particular hybrid came from people who actually chose to be here. Shannon's words matter: "Fishtown is the first place that's truly felt like home." That kind of rootedness shows up in how a restaurant operates. You can taste it in the sourcing, see it in the choices they make about what stays and what goes. This is a mom-and-pop that happens to have serious credentials.
LeoFigs isn't trendy. It's not Instagram bait or a concept restaurant designed by committee. It's two people with years of experience making the things they want to make in a neighborhood they actually love. Book a table upstairs, taste what they're pouring from the basement, and understand why this matters. Philadelphia just got better at this.