I'm an American chef. I'm American. I live here. I love being here. But, of course, it is different. A black man's journey is different.
Sentiment: POSITIVE
I get so tickled when that pilot happens to be an African American because I rarely see that. The same is true when I go to find restaurants. I mean, most places I go, I kind of have some idea who the chef is, which is why I want to go.
Mostly I enjoy the restaurants (my husband is a chef), though I wish we had a wider diversity of ethnic food.
I wanted to identify that the black experience is American experience.
As an individual, and I have to say as a person of color, the thing about being an 'other' in America is I really feel like you're bilingual. I'm from a small town in Wisconsin, but even when I'm in New York and I'm working for MSNBC or CNN, you're used to being the only black person in the room.
I grew up in Harlem. My grandmother was one of the best cooks around, but the first thing she did on Sunday mornings when she started cooking a daylong meal was to take a big block of lard from the back of the refrigerator and throw it into the pan. I know how Hispanics buy their food, and it is not always nutritious.
I write the black experience in America, and contained within that experience, because it is a human experience, are all the universalities.
I am a chef through and through. Everything I do - whether it is cooking for kids in Harlem or cooking in a fine dining establishment - all my days are consumed by food.
Every black American is bilingual. All of them. We speak street vernacular and we speak 'job interview.'
One of the things that's really, really present in 'Between the World and Me' is, I am in some ways outside of the African-American tradition.
I eventually settled in Washington, where my partners and I have been fortunate to build a restaurant business that now employs thousands of Americans across the country.
No opposing quotes found.