Conversations about food among the Black community inevitably leads to debates. Who’s bringing the potato salad? Who made the mac and cheese? Is the gumbo to be trusted? Sugar or salt on grits? And, of course, the legendary jollof wars between Ghanaians and Nigerians.
The Rise: Black Cooks and the Soul of American Food, a new
It’s been eons since early July, when athletes first arrived at the NBA bubble and started joking about poorly-lit photos of pasta. The gist of the mini media scandal was the food; namely, that it wasn’t fine dining. The whole ordeal had the trappings of a second Fyre Festival: very rich guys semi-stranded in less-than-luxury accommodations, forced to eat meals resembling summer camp fare in takeout containers.
The sob story later proved overblown. The pictured meals were only served during the 36-hour isolation period, arriving individually packaged in biodegradable containers, as many of the
J.D. Snead calls the Michelin Minivan a “quarantine baby.”
Before the pandemic started, Snead cooked at Kasbah — a Middle Eastern eatery in midtown — and bartended at the Shady Lady saloon. But like many workers in the restaurant industry, he was out of a job once the stay-at-home order arrived in mid-March.
“I just kept cooking for my sanity,” said Snead.
He made chicken adobo, a dish that pays homage to his Filipino-Scottish roots; he ventured into Italian food, Hawaiian poke and Korean barbecue. Soon, he realized he could be “selling these plates just to have some stream of
Courtesy of White Castle
