You know what I’m really sick of? Shows about men talking about food. Anthony Bourdain is fine, but I’m kind of tired of watching him be bad at hunting and ask other men for their opinions about food. David Chang throws fits when his restaurants don’t get reviewed hyper-positively (and why weren’t there more women in Ugly Delicious?). Gordon Ramsay is abusive and bigoted and Mario Batali is a human shitstain. Also, this is what comes up when you Google “American chef”:
The reason that this is all very annoying is that women who dedicate themselves to cooking, to cuisine, to perfecting their kitchen, are seen as simply fulfilling societal expectations (i.e. being a housewife/domestic goddess). Men who do it? Geniuses. Who get TV shows. Where are the TV shows about immigrant women inventing entirely new forms of cuisine after being removed from the ingredients that their families cooked with? Where’s the TV show about my Korean grandmother picking fiddlehead ferns from the side of the road in a Seattle suburb to stir-fry for a group of 15?
The irony is that the processes, cultural exchanges, and traditions that bolster the narratives of most food- and travel-focused shows are the direct result of women’s labor. David Chang has an Ugly Delicious episode devoted to home-cooking, and in the brief segment featuring his mother, he celebrates and thanks her for her undeniable influence on his style and taste, for contributing to his wildly successful career.
Just kidding, he blames her for not going out of her way to teach him enough Korean dishes (and for making food that his friends at school mocked).
When it comes to forwarding his brand as a chef, though, he has no problem publishing her traditional recipes on GQ — under his byline.
I’m not faulting David Chang for capitalizing on the recently-awarded coolness of Korean food. The ebb and flow of “ethnic cuisines” that white people decide are now palatable too often benefits the established white chef introducing gochujang in his Michelin-starred restaurant, rather than actual Korean people. That ebb and flow is a neocolonial closed loop, in which the members of the screenshots above cycle through ingredients that chefs (and women!) of color have cooked with their entire lives. But the latter don’t get breathless restaurant reviews or James Beard awards. (You know how many women of color have been nominated for best chef in New York, in the foundation’s 28 years? One.)
The “coolness” of exploring foods that aren’t traditionally American or white has been undeniably influenced, over the years, by man’s man Anthony Bourdain. Granted, he’s recently become a very outspoken advocate for women’s rights, and staunchly condemns the boys’ club culture of professional kitchens (a culture to which he contributed), but every time he jets off to another country on Parts Unknown, I find myself disappointed by the overwhelmingly male roster of guests.
Like pretty much everything else in a globalizing society, the dynamics of what kind and whose food is elevated and made profitable cannot be removed from the larger power systems that have kept capital in the hands of white men. Bourdain, for example, often likes to say that when he stumbles across a local spot he loves, he’d never put it on anyone else’s radar by naming it. The resulting fame and popularity, he says, would “ruin” its authenticity and charm. But I can’t help wonder how many small business owners, how many women, how many people who have absolutely no chance of opening a glitzy restaurant in New York City would benefit from his platform.
In an episode in South Africa, he spends a significant portion of time with a South African chef named Sanzo Sandile, an affable man who seems firmly rooted in his community. Sanzo never received formal culinary training, Bourdain says. “Completely self-taught,” he proclaims, right before noting that Sanzo actually went to the immigrant women of his neighborhood to be taught what ingredients to use, what flavors to pursue.
None of those women were in the episode.
This week, we’re looking at some women of color who should have TV shows.
— Natalie, who will not be going to the new Szechuanese restaurant owned and operated by white people
NIKI NAKAYAMA
Sushi fans have probably heard of Chefs Jiro Ono and Masa Takayama; the sushi industry is dominated by men, both in the U.S. and in Japan. Chef Niki Nakayama, who runs acclaimed kaiseki restaurant n/naka with her wife Carole, used to lead an all-female staff of sushi chefs, and remembers male guests walking in, seeing who was behind the counter, and walking back out. Her kaiseki restaurant — a critically acclaimed study in seasonality, focus, and variety — has been called the most “beautifully personal” restaurant in Los Angeles.
THERESE NELSON
Chef Nelson is the founder of Black Culinary History, an organization that aspires “to connect chefs of color to preserve black heritage throughout the African culinary diaspora.” She also ran her own private catering company, worked as a private chef, and is now the chef-in-residence at Taste magazine. Read more about Therese and her work here.
LAILA EL-HADDAD
Laila is a writer, journalist, speaker, and activist who co-authored the cookbook “The Gaza Kitchen: A Palestinian Culinary Journey.” She also conceived of Aleppo Kitchen, a Baltimore-based catering collective composed of Syrian refugee women. She frequently focuses on the intersection of food and politics, refugee relief, and Palestinian rights. Read more about Laila and her many projects here.
Token is a project by Ari Curtis and Natalie Chang that celebrates the work and worth of women of color. Subscribe here to get the latest issues in your inbox.
