She opened this Delco restaurant in memory of her brother. A fire changed everything.

The smell of smoke was overwhelming when Christiana Marie Ruiz-Penaloza unlocked the door of her Norwood restaurant on a cold morning this month.

Ruiz-Penaloza rushed through the front dining room, fighting against thick fumes as she passed a framed photograph of her late brother, Manny Ruiz, flashing a grin at her wedding.

In 2022, Ruiz died before he and Ruiz-Penaloza could realize their shared dream of opening a family restaurant. Now she was horrified to discover that the heart of the dream that she had realized on her own in August — the kitchen — was engulfed in flames.

Ruiz-Penaloza tried to grab a fire extinguisher before retreating amid the flames. The 33-year-old had faced all the challenges that come with starting a business since Manny Vibez opened, but nothing like this.

While the Jan. 9 blaze at Manny Vibez spared the restaurant’s dining room, Ruiz-Penaloza is struggling to understand how an inferno tore through her empty kitchen overnight.

Ruiz-Penaloza and her family dispute the fire department’s finding that the fire likely originated from a trash can or bag of rags next to the freezer.

Above all, Ruiz-Penaloza is worried that gone with her cooking equipment is her brother’s dream.

“We were doing good,” Ruiz-Penaloza said several days after the fire, sitting in a booth near her charred kitchen, the smell of smoke still heavy in the air. With the power cut, Manny Vibez — once bright and bristling with fake vines lining the ceiling — was cast in darkness.

Over the past six months, customers in the Delaware County borough had taken to the eclectic menu — partially inspired by Ruiz-Penaloza and Ruiz’s time working at Jose Garces’ Buena Onda — that’s full of vibrant Latin American and Italian fare, the latter by way of her family’s native South Philadelphia.

“We found a new home in a community that loved everything we were giving,” Ruiz-Penaloza said. “Then I just walked in to everything taken away.”

No matter how she tells them, most of Ruiz-Penaloza’s stories about her late brother trace back to food.

For two years, she and Ruiz worked at Garces’ Fairmount taqueria, navigating life in the orbit of a James Beard award-winner together. There Ruiz-Penaloza learned the art of management and operations, while Ruiz held down the front of house.

Throughout it all, Ruiz insisted that his sister one day open her own eatery.

“He was always trying to talk her into it,” said Lorraine Vargas, the pair’s mother.

Like the morning of the fire, Ruiz-Penaloza recounts Aug. 2, 2022, with sober clarity.

That’s when she learned Ruiz, after a late night at a casino, had passed out in his vehicle with the windows up and died from a lack of oxygen during a record heat wave.

Work was hardly on her mind after Ruiz-Penaloza left the restaurant industry during the pandemic to take care of her children; then, dropping her boys off at day-care in May, she noticed the building next door was up for rent.

Manny Vibez opened in a whirlwind four months, launching for friends and family on Aug. 2 to commemorate Ruiz’s passing. There was barely any marketing, Ruiz-Penaloza said, apart from social media profiles showcasing the food.

Crispy, golden empanadas crowd together on a plate in one Instagram post, while camarones al ajillo — shrimp fried with garlic and herbs — sizzle in another. Around Christmas Day — what would have been Ruiz’s 36th birthday — family photos of the siblings took center stage.

The menu contains “secret messages” that allude to her brother’s tastes, Ruiz-Penaloza said. He would have loved the Crab Cakes Benny the most, she said; he delighted in sending his sister pictures of the crustaceous benedicts.

“I couldn’t believe that we hadn’t betted on ourselves sooner,” Ruiz-Penaloza said.

Shining a flashlight over charred stainless-steel countertops, Mario Penaloza pointed to where chefs once cooked up huevos rancheros and bandeja paisa, Mom Mom’s cutlet sandwich, and Italian sausage soup.

Now much of the kitchen’s equipment is burned, from stacks of takeout trays and dishes to a fridge, lighting fixtures, and support beams.

Penaloza, 32, quit another job two months after Manny Vibez opened to work alongside his wife and her sister, Monica. There was even room for Ruiz in the kitchen, where another photo watched over the staff.

After the blaze, Penaloza and his wife scoured security footage. But the grayscale video, clouded in smoke, offers no clear angle of the blaze’s origin.

The couple suspects that the fire came from the aging building’s electrical system, citing a faulty outlet, blown fuses, and bulbs that burned out quickly during the restaurant’s initial months.

The Norwood fire marshal declined to comment on the fire’s origin. He said there was no suspicion of foul play, and that the investigation was still open.

“I paid for all the inspections — I just opened in August,” said Ruiz-Penaloza, feeling she’s been denied a satisfactory explanation. “I did all my due diligence to make sure we were operating in a safe environment.”

With the kitchen closed indefinitely, customers have begun to show Manny Vibez support in different ways. After the fire, one customer stopped by to offer Ruiz-Penaloza a $100 bill, she said, while another played an uplifting song before making a contribution.

It wasn’t long until local nonprofit Be the Joy Foundation reached out; so far, a digital fundraiser has collected over $6,000 for the restaurant’s rehabilitation, as Ruiz-Penaloza fears that insurance won’t cover its belongings.

“I just want to open tomorrow,” Ruiz-Penaloza said.

“It’s not happening overnight,” her mother responded.

So for now, Ruiz-Penaloza subsides off the hopeful words of customers, those who hope that one day they’ll enjoy another plate of her empanadas.

“At least now I’m not fearful to open,” Ruiz-Penaloza said. “I’m ready to do it again.”