Tunde and the Wolf

I recently received the news that some friends of mine really came up in a big way in the city I spent the last four years, my beloved New Orleans. Man, I miss that fucking city. I’ll be back soon. But in the meantime, reading that Mason Hereford and his crew won Bon Appétit’s 2017 Best New Restaurant in the country made me really, really happy for them.

When I first moved to New Orleans back in 2013, Coquette was the first restaurant to take me. They still did white linen back then. Mason was the chef de cuisine and we became friends quickly over our hat collections and discovering we had mutual friends from Virginia, where we both went to college, Mason in Charlottesville and myself in Richmond. I remember making fun of him for being a rollerblader but at the same time having a respect that he owned up to it. It takes a special kind of person to rollerblade into their adult years, in my opinion. I remember thinking he seemed like an odd fit for the restaurant we both worked at because he so regularly thought outside the box, because he was such a weirdo and so fun loving, but I always gave him credit because he took the job just the right amount of serious and at the end of the day the proof was in the food. The dude could create some amazing and beautiful dishes.

Always present in his work was his love of sandwiches. Years later, after we’d both left that restaurant and he moved closer and closer to achieving his dream of owning a sandwich shop and I was getting closer and closer to moving out west, I never had a doubt he’d reach his goal. The reason I didn’t have a doubt wasn’t just because he is such an amazing cook but because he was just a really good dude and the city he lived in knew that about him. See, I really believe in things like community and knowing your hood and having your people. And I always felt like Mason shared in my belief. I remember that first year in New Orleans, not knowing a soul, he invited me to his Thanksgiving party. I don’t know how many people he cooked for; I just know they had seats in every room of the house and even outside. He did that every year. I didn’t have to bring anything. I didn’t pay a dime. I just showed up and ate as much as I could and passed the hell out. I couldn’t even stumble over to the Saint for a cold one. I had to beeline it home.

Reading that article in Bon Appétit, I’m not gonna lie, a side of me was like “Wow, really? Best restaurant in the country? Come on.” Yeah, his sandwiches, his food is really, really damn good! But best new restaurant in the country?! I mean, it’s not like I’ve been able to go yet, Turkey and the Wolf opened after I left the city, but still, I’m thinking that’s a pretty damn tall order. I got my own opinions on why I think he was awarded this honor. They are all issues I take up with the media and trends and the establishment.

I mean, to me, a restaurant is one thing, a sandwich shop is another. They’re not the same. When I think of a restaurant, I think of places like Uchi in Austin, Son of a Gun here in Los Angeles, Aska in NYC. I think of Compère Lapin and Lillette and Sylvain. Don’t get me wrong, I love sandwich shops! They are the staple of every neighborhood, as far as I’m concerned. But a sandwich shop is a sandwich shop! But you know what? I thought, hey, if I’m Mason, and these guys want to put me on a pedestal? Fuck it! We got one life and my friend made it and he made it through a lot of hard work and he made it with good people around him, people that know him and have known him a long time. Since the place opened, I’ve followed all my friends on social media express how happy they are with the place and how well it’s fitting into the neighborhood. And man, I can’t wait to go.

Then I was sent this article in the San Francisco Chronicle that was drawing comparisons of Mason’s win to the white supremacy issue that is literally on fire in the country right now. Before I even read the article, I remember being scared. Because right now, it is on the forefront of things I think about every single day, besides what the hell else this lunatic of a president we have is going to do next. Every single day, I can barely keep it beneath my skin. I’m constantly scanning the internet for news; I’m constantly having to restrain myself from engaging with racists online. Coworkers are always asking me how I’m doing. I have to remember that when loved ones provide a different perspective on things, they’re only doing it to stay open minded and not because they are Nazi sympathizers. I have to remind myself I can’t fight every single person that shows some sign they may on the “other side.” That I’m smarter than that. And that it wouldn’t solve anything anyway. Or would it?

I read this article and it seemed like it was a guy maybe similar to me, who was also burdened with the incredible and terrible weight of thoughts and inner conflict like mine. He wanted to disconnect and take some time to heal and instead watched a white guy with a mustache rollerblading around seemingly free of any care, floating in the unabashed glory of his privileged life, knowing he’s made it to golden land. But in this scathing article, something blared out to me as if the words themselves blinked neon light. The author mentions watching the video and I wonder if he actually did any more than that. Because as impressive as the article was written, for all the fantastic analogies and word play and associations he was able to draw up, I felt like I knew this man had a very specific angle.

You see, Tunde Wey, the author of this article in the SF Chronicle, said “there may have been a fleeting cameo by a Latina dishwasher, unnamed, but the camera never lingers long enough for a positive identification.” But if he had read the article, he’d know that Latina had a name. Her name is Migdalia Pabon. I know Migdalia because I worked with her all the way back at Coquette. That’s how far back Mason goes with her. I remember flirting with her in the kitchen. I used to call her “estrella.” And reading her name in that Bon Appétit article, seeing her get some credit along with the rest of my old friends, knowing she’s back there making great food and still a part of the team, knowing that smile of hers lifts everyone who see’s it, that made me really happy. But Tunde wanted to sweep that under the rug. It didn’t serve the angle of what he wanted his article to do. And what did he want this article to do? Because it’s not like he just talks merciless shit about Mason. He gives him a little credit here and there, like scraps to a dog begging under the table. To not do at least that much would be completely blind and completely biased out the gate.

This was an example of clickbait. This was capitalizing on the hot topic. I don’t want to guess at your motives, Tunde. Whatever they may be, it makes me sick. Because here’s the thing, white supremacy is absolute evil. There is no debate, there is no explaining. To me, and anyone I call a friend. I’ll fight it until the end of my days. But reading your article, it felt like you thought you could just throw that at someone you don’t know like you’re throwing a cigarette stub out the window. Because of sandwiches. Because a magazine liked his sandwiches. That’s how reckless and irresponsible and mean your article is. And what blows my mind is I wonder if that even dawns on you.

To return to your huge mistake, and trust me, it was a huge mistake, reducing Migdalia to some “fleeting cameo” Latina, when anyone who knows her and the time she’s put in, your story becomes very familiar to me and everyone else. (Reducing any woman that has put in sweat and tears into that brick and mortar for that matter. The name of the sandwich shop is Turkey and the Wolf. And that Wolf was always Lauren, the woman Mason opened the shop with, a hell of a woman and a hell of a bartender. The General Manager and General Badass is Kate Mirante, who Mason worked with at Coquette also. His chef de cuisine is Colleen Quarls, who he also worked with at Coquette. You catching anything relevant here?) If a journalist writing about something of this magnitude, and trust that the stakes are high, associating a man he’s never had a conversation with to atrocities such as what occurred in Charlottesville, doesn’t care to get one small but very significant detail down and in fact allows his actual lack of research to make the point that there is a lack of color and diversity at Mason’s restaurant, and his name is Mason, you don’t need to be scared to write it, it shows that you weren’t really looking to make an actual connection in the first place. This was just an example that served your purpose. So I gotta ask, what the fuck are you doing in New Orleans? Making that real connection is the point of living in that magical city if you ask me. But apparently, Tunde, you have a different ambition altogether.

For the record, I think it’s important that I say that I’m a mulatto. My dad is a black man from Philadelphia and my mother is Indonesian and Dutch. They met in the Netherlands where my mother lived and my father was stationed during his career with the Air Force and there I was born. I was raised in a mixed race family. But spending my adult years in America, I’ve had to learn the very hard way that for whatever worldliness I think I can offer, no matter my education or experience, the first impression I will always make in this country is that I am a person of color. The rest comes later, and I can see the relief on a lot of white people’s faces when they get to learn more and more about me to make me different, and so be treated differently. I don’t pretend to ignore that. I’m not ashamed to say I definitely use it to my advantage in every possible scenario you can think of, especially if I’m trying to get a damn job. I get that there is a system, and I’ve learned that there is a time to be indignant and to represent and there is a time to play the hand. See Tunde, as impressive as your article was, and it was indeed impressive in my opinion (as a writer, I can really appreciate it at face value) by the end of it, shockingly enough, you had me questioning just what my friend represented. But then the bigger picture hit me. You missed a real opportunity. You touch on it a couple of times in the article, but the ultimate route you chose was to pick on the little guy. I get it. Maybe it enraged you to see this white dude from Virginia doing something that is, like you say, done by a number of restaurants in New Orleans, and done well. You reference Heard Dat Kitchen. Let me reference some others. Victory is a black owned bar in the CBD that has some of the best cocktails I’ve had in the city. Jamila’s in Uptown is owned by an older couple that have been in New Orleans for forever. They’re North African and some of the loveliest people I’ve ever met. Lily’s is a Vietnamese restaurant I went to almost every day before work when I lived in the LGD. Lily always gave me extra candy. Gene’s Po Boys was literally a life changing event the first time I went. My friend Tyrell took me there late one night after we’d gotten high as hell at the Dragon’s Den for reggae night. Next door is a bar called Melvin’s where we played pool nights before we’d really get after it. That place was almost always empty. Great juke box though and the bartender that was always there is one of the nicest in town.

Do all these places deserve more accolades, more press? To me, they sure as hell do. But you know what? I don’t know a ton of black people that read Bon Appétit. I don’t read Bon Appétit. I read it this time only because Mason was in there. All those places I listed, I went there because good friends told me about them, and I listened, and I was grateful, and then I did the same thing after. My point here isn’t that black people should read Bon Appétit or even that Bon Appétit should cater more to black people. Ideally, yes, I’d like to see black people in more of EVERYTHING. But also, I’m not going to lose my shit because Bon Appétit did what it normally does. Do I wish they would do some things different? Absolutely. So we need people like you for that. But you didn’t really do that. You went in on Mason and his sandwich shop instead. And for what? To make him feel an awful amount of guilt for a city he had no choice in being raised in? Connecting him to evil that erupted there? I mean honestly, who the hell do you think you are?

And really, let’s cut the shit, it’s pretty late in the game to be calling out white people in the service industry, any industry, for getting away with shit. White people always get away with shit. They’ve been making profit off of not just food black people cook but poor people, Mexican people, Asian people, any goddamn people. This is not new! Do we need to continue to fight against it, keep trying to do more, and expand what people know and are familiar with? That’s a no brainer. Educate! Step out of our comfort bubble. Swim into foreign water. Again, it’s the system here. That absolutely needs to be understood. Maybe Mason deserves to be mentioned as an aspect of that, I can see that. But to publish an article putting him in the spotlight along with SEVERAL pictures of the Nazi scum in Charlottesville is cheap. And it’s dangerous.

Like I said, you missed an opportunity. At the end of the day, this is still America. White, black, red, yellow, we all still have the right to pursue our goddamn dreams. And yeah, those dreams are a lot easier to achieve right now if you are white. But what exactly do we do here? Just keep tearing each other down? Or do we go after the establishment that’s making it this way? It seems like the answer is an easy one to me. Is it Mason’s fault that he makes stoner food and a bunch of stoner dudes dig his sandwiches? His fanbase is who is fanbase is just like a whiskey bar appeals to whiskey people or how doughnuts appeal to people who dig doughnuts. I personally don’t give a shit about doughnuts but I love comic books. What I’m saying is, who Mason attracts to his dream restaurant isn’t his fault. They’re people who dig what he digs, and he’s making those people happy.

Again, I reiterate, we need people like you, Tunde. We need to bring the hard issues and the uncomfortable conversations and we need to see the world for what it is. I grew up with every white person telling me they don’t see color. Until they did. That time is over. People are slowly beginning to figure this out. To me, Mason winning best new restaurant wasn’t as much another white guy winning as it was a trend I’ve been seeing for some time now where the movement is to get away from fine dining and go to a place that is more for the every man. I don’t necessarily agree with it but I can see the implications are not meant to be ominous. Meanwhile, as much as food is a part of every culture, having black people be in the service industry as much as other races, that’s a whole other conversation altogether. But I’m still going to bring up some points on that.

I grew up in a military family. A blue collar family. I wanted to be a writer. My mother didn’t like that. Be a lawyer. Be a doctor. Even be a teacher. A teacher for god’s sake. Making no money. But even that is more prestigious, more respectable than an artist in the eyes of a mother who wants to see her child succeed and thrive and not suffer. And a waiter? A bartender? You got to be fucking kidding me. Let’s face it, this line of work, in this country, has only recently gained any respect. You know how many times I’ve been asked so what do you want to do when you grow up? Still? What else do you do besides wait tables? Besides make drinks? Even though I’m making great money and have a pretty good credit score? This is just my take on it, but black people are under so much pressure in this country, it’s not surprising you don’t see them saturating this industry. Me personally, it’s I either have to be the most articulate and knowledgeable motherfucker standing and gain the respect of some older white couple that haven’t had a serious conversation with a person of color in the past however many years or it’s the situation where it’s a “hip” white guy that wants a taste of the real, where he’s telling me hey stop being so damn polite, tell me what’s going on in the streets. So I let him have it. Whatever the situation calls for, I adapt. Because that’s the industry, and I like living well, so show me the money. But that isn’t for everybody. I’m not saying I’m selling my soul. The opposite. I’m being professional, and when I’m asked, I’m being honest. But we still live by old stigmas, and the truth of the matter is, this line of work just ain’t for everybody. By no means is that to say it needs to stay that way, and honestly, I don’t see it staying that way. There’s a lot of pros to being in this career, I myself having been in it for over 10 years now. But some things just take a natural kind of time. And it’s people like me and my coworkers that are helping that along.

“When the snows fall and the white winds blow, the lone wolf dies but the pack survives.” — Sansa Stark, Game of Thrones, HBO.

Maybe it’s people like you too. After all, you had a stall in St. Rich, I mean St. Roch Market for some time. I never got to go before you left but I’d heard good things. You seem like a pretty knowledgeable fellow on the subject of the service industry and kitchens and food. Which again is why it makes it even sadder you chose to go the route of attacking a man, even if it is a white man, for his success in this industry. And despite whatever you want to say, as that man’s friend, I can’t see it as any other thing besides an attack when you are comparing him or comparing his win to white supremacy. If you want to say fuck Bon Appétit, say fuck Bon Appétit. I’ll say it with you. Because it is a safe place for white people. But you know something? In a way, I’m kind of glad for that. Because I don’t necessarily need to see a line of drunk white people at Gene’s at three in the morning trying to order the roast beef when they should be ordering the hot sausage, all due to an article they read on their iPhones listing best places in New Orleans to get a po boy. I guess I have my perimeters on just how much gentrification I can swallow. Don’t get me wrong, I understand that an article like that propels someone to success and if that could happen for more black owners that would be a really great thing. But then let’s speak to that, and not speak to trying to diminish the hard work of another, especially someone you didn’t even take the time to know in the smallest measure. Someone you could only bother to watch a video of and not read the entire article and give them your full attention because you were just chomping at the bit to point out “See! More white supremacy!” The way you went about this, sure, you highlight the race problem in America, which is at full blast and will be for as long as we can expect. But what you did more than that, is you expanded the rift to serve your own ends, which is painfully obvious after reading your article and it comes off bitter and resentful and begs the question: for what? It’s just a fucking sandwich shop, man. A lot of us still live in the world where we judge a person by the experience we have with them, face to face. Maybe if we did more of that these days instead of hiding behind a computer, we could agree on more. Maybe get a long a little better. But nice Janus reference. Stay voluble, Tunde.

(By the way, I stand by saying fuck Bon Appétit… but they do have several non white owners in their top ten, and one of them is even a brewery for God’s sake. A brewery is definitely not a restaurant. Maybe, just maybe, from time to time, we should all just take a chill pill on the lists and the top ten’s and look for the real battle ahead. Or maybe I’m just thinking about White Walkers too much.)

(And last, of course, Mason, nor any of his employees, had any idea whatsoever I took it upon myself to write this article. I just wanted to stick up for my friend.)