Foodies Clan

The SBA relief fund earmarked $28.6 billion for struggling restaurants. It’s already received $65 billion in applications.

Throughout the pandemic, restaurants have struggled to access financial support from the federal government, so when the American Rescue Plan stimulus bill, which was signed into law in March 2021, included a $28.6 billion Restaurant Revitalization Fund, it was considered a lifeline. Unlike the much-maligned Paycheck Protection Program loans, this money is to be distributed as grants, not loans, and won’t have to be repaid by restaurant owners if it’s used by March 2023. But there’s one pretty big problem: The fund, which started taking applications on May 3, is already running out.

According to the Los Angeles Times, the Small Business Administration, which is responsible for overseeing the program, has received more than a quarter million applications, asking for $65 billion in financial aid. That’s more than double the amount of money in the fund, and will once again leave many restaurant owners fighting to stay afloat with no federal government aid. After a year of pandemic-related struggles, that’s a painfully familiar feeling for restaurant owners and workers alike.

Though the restaurant industry was hit harder than perhaps any other — with customers urged not to dine out, and restaurant workers at high risk of contracting COVID-19 in the tight confines of kitchens and dining rooms — food workers and restaurant owners were not prioritized for federal bailouts or industry-specific relief programs. According to a report by Yelp in June of last year, some 53 percent of restaurants that closed since March 1, 2020 went on to close permanently. Since then, the number of restaurant closings has grown each week.

The Paycheck Protection Program loans, rolled out last year to help restaurants cover staffing costs, left a lot to be desired. For these loans to be forgiven, a majority of the money had to go toward keeping staff on payroll, even though limited capacity and restrictions on indoor dining made it nearly impossible to retain and pay a full staff. And before many small restaurant owners could even get their hands on a loan, huge chain restaurants drained the fund.

For businesses that do receive this latest round of SBA funds, grants may be equal to the amount of revenue a restaurant lost during the pandemic, capped at $10 million per business, and $5 million per location. In reaction to frustration at the very limited and restrictive ways PPP money could be spent, restaurant owners have been given more autonomy to decide where they need to direct these funds to keep their businesses open and their staff employed. This enormous pool of money goes a long way in propping up restaurants as they continue to navigate the world of dining during a pandemic.

But when the program was first proposed by Rep. Earl Blumenauer of Oregon last year, he hoped the fund would distribute $120 billion in grants. According to the Times report, Blumenauer said there was anticipation that the fund would be quite popular, and that his colleagues might have to approve more funding once they saw how high demand was in relation to the drastically slimmed down fund that passed through Congress.

Restaurant owners, lobbyists, and food industry activists are frustrated that, after a year spent advocating for a restaurant-specific relief fund, the money is once again going to dry up before a majority of restaurant owners have received help. In a statement to the Times, Sean Kennedy, a spokesman for the National Restaurant Association, said that “Right now, SBA has more than $36 billion in applications from small, struggling independent businesses that will not receive funding.”

Frustration at the fund’s delayed rollout and limited impact is justified. It’s equally frustrating that, had the fund been infused with even a portion of the additional $90-plus billion that was first proposed, it would still have the resources to help many more restaurants. But while the disappointment is real and the urgency immediate, the fund has been more conscious of how the existing money will be distributed. Unlike the PPP program, which left loopholes for major chains to apply for enormous loans (franchise locations can still apply for these grants), the Restaurant Revitalization Fund aimed to reach businesses owned by women, veterans, and people from economically and socially disadvantaged groups — many of whom missed out on earlier rounds of financial relief.

The Small Business Administration prioritized these businesses by prioritizing their applications for the first three weeks of the fund’s existence. That means that in theory, the majority of grants that were accepted will go to business owners of color, women, veterans, and others that have been hard-hit by the pandemic. But it also means that countless restaurants owned by members of marginalized and oppressed communities are still hurting, and won’t see a dollar in this round of grant-giving. Hopefully, Representative Blumenauer was correct in thinking funding will be rejuvenated once his colleagues see how badly it’s needed. Hopefully, the funds come soon, because many restaurants are hanging on by a thread.

The CDC’s latest guidelines pose a conundrum for restaurants that are still enforcing mask-wearing policies

The Detroit chef, activist, entrepreneur Kiki Louya will lead strategy for the Restaurant Workers’ Community Foundation

Richard Montañez’s rags-to-riches story of inventing the spicy snack goes up in flames in an LA Times piece

Since 2007, Richard Montañez has been peddling the feel-good story to end all feel-good stories — that as a janitor at a Frito-Lay plant in Rancho Cucamonga, he successfully pitched the company on creating Flamin’ Hot Cheetos. In his telling, after seeing an internal video encouraging all Frito-Lay employees to “act like owners,” he told the CEO that spicy snacks were all the rage in Hispanic neighborhoods, and that they were missing out on a huge market. He also created his own spice blend for executives to try. Of course they were a hit, he rose up to the C-suite, and now he makes a living writing memoirs and being a motivational speaker. He is even going to be portrayed in a new movie, produced by Eva Longoria.

According to the LA Times, though, the story is mostly a lie. In a massive report published over the weekend, the Times meticulously rips apart the story, showing how Flamin’ Hot snacks were already on the market by the time Montañez pitched his snack ideas, how Montañez has changed his story over the years, and how those involved with the Flamin’ Hot line’s development are baffled as to how Montañez claimed it was his idea. “We have interviewed multiple personnel who were involved in the test market, and all of them indicate that Richard was not involved in any capacity in the test market,” said Frito-Lay in a statement.

In fact, the Flamin’ Hot line was the brainchild of a few people within Frito-Lay. There was Fred Lindsay, a salesman in the Chicago region who saw spicy snacks taking off and wanted Frito-Lay to compete. There was Sharon Owens, a product manager who took up spicy snack development. And then there was Lynne Greenfield, who came up with the flavor, the name, and the original packaging ideas. The snacks hit test markets in 1990, two years before Montañez says he pitched his products in 1992. “It is disappointing that 20 years later, someone who played no role in this project would begin to claim our experience as his own and then personally profit from it,” said Greenfield.

Montañez didn’t respond to request for comment to the Times, nor has he updated his Instagram, @hotcheetosrpm, since the piece was published. However, Montañez did make a comment on the accusations to Variety, saying Frito-Lay was operating in different divisions, and that while he may not have had anything to do with what was happening in the Midwest, “All I can tell you is what I did. All I have is my history, what I did in my kitchen.” He also says of Flamin’ Hot Cheetos: “I was their greatest ambassador. But I will say this, you’re going to love your company more than they will ever love you, keep that in perspective.”

But even the one man who somewhat corroborated Montanez’s story, Al Carey, a former Frito-Lay executive, acknowledged to the Times Montañez’s tendency to exaggerate. “I said this is a fun story; this shouldn’t be a controversial story; your inclination to dramatize the story a little bit, you’ve got to keep away from that,” he said he warned Montañez.

What does appear to be true is Montañez was working as a machinist operator in the Rancho Cucamonga plant when he pitched a spicy snack to executives in the ’90s. The Times quotes a U.S. News and World Report article from 1993, which says “Montañez burst forth with a kernel of an idea: Flamin’ Hot Popcorn, which will soon make its debut” as part of the existing Flamin’ Hot line. Montañez also worked on the Sabrositas brand, a snack brand directed specifically at the Latino market.

Frito-Lay began investigating Montañez’s public claims in 2018, when Greenfield emailed a contact at Frito-Lay after seeing a story about Montañez in Esquire. Montañez retired in 2019. The Times also notes “Montañez has also repeatedly posted to his social media accounts photographs of what he claims are original design materials for Flamin’ Hot Cheetos. Many have recently been deleted.”

We all probably should have regarded Montañez’s story with more skepticism. After all, the receipts are out in the open — there are multiple newspaper articles and ads acknowledging the existence of Flamin’ Hot Cheetos from before Montañez says he pitched the idea. But the fantasy is incredible, isn’t it? A Mexican-American man working in a factory feeling not just empowered enough to pitch an idea to a CEO, but actually be listened to and taken seriously. And that the idea he was pitching was something for the Latino community, something to make a massive group of marginalized people feel catered to, felt even better. It’s rags-to-riches story, one where a Mexican-American man speaks up to white executives, turning his savvy recognition of a market into success.

Flamin’ Hot Cheetos, which were available in the U.S. over a decade before Takis arrived, are now so mainstream they’ve caused a legitimate moral panic over kids eating too many and being sent to the hospital worried about blood in their stool or ulcers. Flamin’ Hot Cheetos has also been featured in collaborations with KFC, Martin House brewery, chef Roy Choi, and Thanksgiving turkey, among others, and the line has expanded to dust nearly every salty snack Frito-Lay offers, that’s how much we want to burn our stomach lining.

Montañez’s story also clearly worked because it was mostly true. He did work in a factory and rise to the C-suite. He did work on products aimed toward a Latino market — just, as it turns out, not this product. But the actual truth — that a spicy product developed to stave off competition from Eagle Snacks was invented by a bunch of people with business degrees — is just a depressing reminder of how marketing and product development normally works. Oh well.

Breaking down the food, labor, and fixed costs of Dirt Candy’s popular spinach croque-monsieur

We often presume to understand restaurant economics because we know what a chicken breast costs at the supermarket. “I could make this dish at home for $5,” goes the refrain. Could we? Here, Eater looks at all the costs in a popular restaurant dish to see what goes into it, and how much profit comes out.

Like many restaurants, New York’s Dirt Candy was a different business before the pandemic. With a staff of 35, it served only a tasting menu (plus a half-dozen a la carte items available at the bar), guests leisurely eating courses of fennel tagine, seaweed caviar with creme fraiche, or beet yakitori. “The food [at] Dirt Candy doesn’t lend itself to delivery,” owner Amanda Cohen said in the spring of 2020, unsure when she’d be able to reopen. “We would’ve had to come up with a new menu.”

That’s exactly what she did. Since July 2020, Cohen and a much smaller crew of six have produced intricate soups (fava bean bouillabaisse), salads (pomelo and watercress), and sandwiches for takeout and delivery, and opened limited dine-in service on a street patio. Now that the staff is fully vaccinated, Dirt Candy is scheduled to reopen for lunch and dinner on May 20. Starting on the 21st, the takeout/delivery menu will only be available during the day. Here’s what it costs to make the $14 spinach croque-monsieur: a slice of country loaf topped with spinach bechamel; thinly sliced celeriac that’s been smoked and confited in olive oil; shredded gruyere; sauteed spinach; more spinach bechamel; grainy mustard; another slice of bread, smothered with a third layer of spinach bechamel; spinach puree; and more shredded gruyere, all popped into the oven until the cheese is bubbling and browning, and topped with an egg sunny side up. It’s been a popular item on Dirt Candy’s pandemic menu, but it also requires a lot of hidden work.

Menu price: $14

Total cost to the restaurant: $14.80
Profit (pickup): -$0.80 (loss)
Profit (delivery): -$2.92 to -$2.48 (loss)
Profit (outdoor dining): $0.90 (profit)

Food Costs: $3.45

Bread: $0.48
Bechamel: $0.27
Gruyere: $0.71
Celeriac: $0.34
Spinach (sauteed): $0.30
Spinach puree: $0.03
Grainy mustard: $0.05
Fried egg: $0.14
Butter: $0.03
Cornichon: $0.01
Packaging: $1.10

Overall, the business averages 20.7 percent food cost. By outsourcing bread (“Pain D’Avignon makes it way better than I ever could”) and using expensive cheese sparingly, the ingredients for this dish manage to stay just over 16 percent. Until we include packaging, a current requirement for the takeout and delivery sales on which restaurants depend. The choice of an oval container, made of biodegradable and compostable sugarcane pulp, hurtles food costs upward to 24 percent.

But the cost to make any dish at a restaurant goes beyond the food itself. There’s also paying the people who cook and serve it, owning and maintaining the equipment that enables them to do so, and, also the space in which to do it all in the first place. The price on the menu reflects the costs of operating the business; here’s how.

Labor Costs: $7

Since relocating in 2015, Dirt Candy has been one of the handful of full-service American restaurants to operate without tipping. Paying employees a livable wage, rather than allowing their earnings to be subsidized by tips, is expensive. Comparable restaurants typically operate at around 30 percent labor cost. Dirt Candy runs closer to 50 percent. Because of that, workers’ wages account for half of what customers spend on the dish.

Fixed Costs: $4.34

With the shrinking of revenue, fixed costs (rent, insurance, bank charges, POS, garbage, dishwasher, security, exterminator, hood cleaning, phone, and so on) as a percentage of sales have effectively doubled, from 15 percent to 31 percent. The $14,500 rent has not gone down. Meanwhile, there are new costs, like heating a patio. Dirt Candy’s electricity bill jumped from $2,000 in February 2020 to $6,000 for February 2021.

Third-Party Delivery and Takeout Costs

Despite all that, the croque-monsieur is almost profitable, until third-party delivery commissions. Companies charge different rates to different clients. For Grubhub/Seamless, it’s 13.05 percent plus 30 cents. That’s $2.12 on a $14 order. Instead of using Grubhub’s couriers for orders placed through its app, Dirt Candy uses Relay for delivery. Relay charges $5.50 per order, which is passed on to the customer.

For DoorDash/Caviar, it’s 20 percent for delivery, adding up to $2.80. For pickup orders, DoorDash charges 12 percent, which is $1.68.

If you order through ChowNow, which charges a flat fee of $149/month, there is no commission, so the restaurant holds on to more revenue. Like Grubhub, ChowNow uses Relay for delivery, with the $5.50 fee charged to the customer.

Profit or Loss

These numbers show Dirt Candy is currently operating at a loss when it comes to selling food. The croque-monsieur’s math applies across the Dirt Candy pandemic menu, except for cocktails, which do generate profit. Over the last year, between forgivable Paycheck Protection Program and Economic Injury Disaster Loan grants, Dirt Candy has been subsidized with about 27 percent of the projected revenue for a healthy year. It is effectively operating at a loss, with help, until economic and safety conditions allow Cohen to operate the kind of business she wants to again.

Until then, if you call in your order and pick it up yourself, Dirt Candy only loses 80 cents on the croque-monsieur. Placed through Grubhub, it costs the restaurant $2.92, and with DoorDash, $2.48.

“I think about closing at least once a week,” says Cohen, who supports the restaurant through side gigs, and is committed to making it to the other side of this cataclysm. “I don’t think the story of Dirt Candy is over. I don’t think we have done everything we are capable of doing. We get better year after year and I am always excited to see what’s going to happen next.”

What’s next is coming soon: When Cohen reopens the restaurant for indoor dining on May 20, she is raising prices to better compensate the staff she feels she failed this past year. This is a clear step forward on an issue long discussed among restaurateurs, who have argued that to pay everyone well, menu prices have to jump to a level that may scare off customers. Cohen has calculated that increase at an additional $30 for the tasting menu. She’ll be one of the first American restaurant owners to find out if diners are willing to pay the true value of a meal for which workers are fairly compensated.

“If you paid any attention to food media in 2020 you would have walked away thinking it was the year of the worker,” says Cohen. “That was the year we called restaurant workers and delivery drivers essential. We called them heroes, over and over again. We said we had their backs. Right now is when we all have to put those words into action.”

Corey Mintz, a food reporter focusing on labor in restaurants, is the author of the upcoming book The Next Supper: The End of Restaurants As We Knew Them, And What Comes Next (Public Affairs 2021)

Brothers Guillaume and Romain Luyat demonstrate how their popular praline confection is made

Brothers Guillaume and Romain Luyat take pride in the fact that their favorite treat, the eclair, is so popular in their home town of Lyon, where their shop Les Eclaireurs resides.

“Lyon is known for several different products, most notably pink praline,” says Guillaume. “So it’s logical that we would create the praline eclair.” This flavor is one of the brothers’ signature confections, with a cream filling made with the candy coated almonds. The praline eclair is just one of the brothers’ 30 sweet eclair recipes, which include flavors like classic chocolate, vanilla, as well as more creative takes like matcha, passionfruit, and lemon. Les Eclaireurs also offers savory varieties in their shops’ rotation, like carrot, salmon, and bacon with nuts. “And we’re always inventing new ones,” adds Romain.

Guillaume left his job in the manufacturing industry to start the business with his brother. “Romain is really the pastry chef, he’s the artist. I take care of the business development. But at the beginning, we were both making the pastries in the morning,” he says of their hands-on approach in the early days of their business. “Today we have a team of professionals with us so it’s easier to produce large quantities,” finishes Romain. These teams help the brothers bring their variety of eclairs to life, to the tune of 500 pastries every week day, and between 1,500 and 2,000 on the weekend at their three shops in Lyon.

“I’ve always eaten eclairs, since I was a kid, and they were always something that I loved,” says Romain. “So I wanted to share that with our customers, and to be able to express ourselves through this unique product.”

Across the country, the promise of beer, fries, and other freebies are being used to convinced people to get the COVID-19 vaccine

Three months ago, I was waking up an hour early every morning to try to find my 66-year-old dad an appointment for the COVID vaccine. I’d open tabs for appointments at city-run sites, state-run sites, and local pharmacies, and refresh refresh refresh, sometimes watching an appointment pop up only for it to disappear as soon as I clicked it. Eventually, I nabbed one, and a month later my partner and I repeated the process for ourselves when we became eligible. But the refreshing, the anxiety, the waiting for new appointments to drop was the hallmark of the experience, and the reward was the shot in the arm and the knowledge that soon I could finally hug my family — forced distant by the pandemic — once again.

Since then, as more people have gotten vaccinated and others refuse vaccination, the reward has changed. Whereas once it was the return to some semblance of normal, that’s no longer enough. Now it needs to include a donut. Or a beer. Or a pound of crawfish.

In April, the average number of doses administered per day peaked at 3.38 million. Now, it’s down to around two million a day. And while President Biden has set a goal for 70% of adults to have at least their first dose by July 4, demand has dropped to the point where some states are turning down vaccine doses. So local governments and national businesses are taking it upon themselves to lure in the reluctant with food and beer.

There are seemingly endless opportunities for Americans to turn a vaccine appointment into a buffet, whether through specials tied to specific vaccine pop-up events, or just by showing proof of vaccination at certain businesses. In New Orleans, the city council is hosting an event to give vaccine recipients a free pound of boiled crawfish with their shots, and multiple local bars have hosted “shot-for-shot” events. There’s free beer and cheeseburgers in Seattle. In New York, you can get a free mini Junior’s Cheesecake with proof of a shot, and a free side of fries with your Shake Shack order. In New Jersey, over a dozen local breweries are giving away free beers with proof of vaccine, and similar programs are now underway in Connecticut and Erie County, NY.

“We decided it just makes sense to go where the people are,” Erie County executive Mark Poloncarz told NPR about setting up a vaccine pop-up inside a local brewery, which he says was incredibly successful. “We got 10 times more people to get vaccinated with their first dose of the COVID-19 vaccine in just a few hours at a brewery than we would have if we had been sitting in one of our full-time clinics for 12 hours.”

Even if you don’t live in these areas, plenty of national chains are rewarding customers for flashing their vaccination cards. José Andres is giving vaccinated diners a $50 gift certificate to any of his ThinkFoodGroup restaurants. Krispy Kreme is continuing its free donut giveaway through the rest of the year. Unilever will be giving out free popsicles and Klondike shakes at vaccine sites across the country on Friday, May 12. Through May 31, White Castle is giving vaccine recipients a free dessert-on-a-stick. And Budweiser will trade you a selfie with your vaccination sticker for a $5 virtual debit card, ideally to be used on a beer.

This all comes at a time when experts are questioning whether the U.S. can even reach the vaccine threshold needed for “herd immunity,” the point at which enough people will have COVID-19 antibodies for it to cease being a major threat. Herd immunity is not the only way to control the virus, and as Carl Bergstrom, an evolutionary biologist at the University of Washington in Seattle, told the New York Times, “What we want to do at the very least is get to a point where we have just really sporadic little flare-ups. That would be a very sensible target in this country where we have an excellent vaccine and the ability to deliver it.” Getting as many people vaccinated as possible is still the key to returning to “normal” safely.

But the reasons some adults aren’t getting vaccinated vary wildly. Sure, there are people who believe the vaccine is planting a 5G chip in your arm, or who are wary of a historically racist health care system. But for others, the issues are more structural. They can’t take time off work to get vaccinated, or to recover from the sometimes intense side-effects. The vaccine centers are too far away and cost too much to get there. And some are under the impression that you have to pay for the vaccine (you don’t) because we live in a country without free health care. A free beer isn’t going to solve these deeper issues.

It might be hard to imagine anyone who was hesitant to get the vaccine — whether for personal or logistical reasons — was just waiting for the promise of a free mini-cheesecake before signing up. But that’s what’s driving some people to get it. “People told us that they had been thinking about it, but it wasn’t a priority,” Dr. Gale Burstein, the Erie County Health Commissioner, told Slate. “Now we were giving them something that they liked in a place where they like to go. So they thought, ‘Why not? I’ll do it.’” And now that clinics are offering walk-in shots and appointments are easier than ever to come by, it’s at least a nice consolation prize for anyone who couldn’t get a vaccine sooner. If it is the thing that finally convinces even one person to get vaccinated, it’ll be worth it.

For many workers, a year of being expected to bear much of the responsibility for conflict de-escalation has taken its toll

The recent wage hike doesn’t apply to 95 percent of workers at franchise restaurants. Detroit and Flint workers will join McDonald’s employees in 15 other cities in a walkout next week.

As COVID-19’s influence begins to wane, restaurants, their workers, and their suppliers are heading out of the frying pan and into the fire of Brexit

From glitzy jungle restaurants by big Mexico City chefs to hangover busters at a local spot in the downtown mercado, here’s where to eat in the buzzy beachside town

Paradise comes with a huge price tag. Back in the early ’90s, Tulum was a sleepy pueblo on Mexico’s Riviera Maya, a day trip from a hotel in Playa del Carmen or Cancún to see the ruins and walk around downtown. But by the end of the 20th century, Tulum was well on its way to becoming a global destination, first for hippies seeking yoga and meditation retreats, then for celebrities, and then for developers. International investors, hoteliers, restaurant groups from Mexico City, and chefs from all over the world flocked there, eventually creating an expensive tropical playground by the sea.

These days, you can throw a stone from your hotel and hit a trendy outdoor restaurant set on decomposed granite with a wood-fired oven cooking local, foraged ingredients — exactly the sort of restaurant you’d expect from a place with Tulum’s reputation. But over the past couple of years, new chefs from all over Mexico (often recruited by Mexico City restaurant groups) have increased competition and brought other regional cuisines and specialties to town. And there are even a few affordable stalwarts of old Tulum that have survived the area’s economic evolution.

Still, dining in Tulum is mostly expensive, and if you’re going to drop over $300 on dinner and drinks for two, you’d better make sure your meal is worth it. The best restaurants deliver all the magic, romance, and aesthetic promised by the trendy beachside destination. They serve dishes elevated by the local flora and fauna and cook with techniques inherited from the Maya; that often includes recaudos (colorful herbal marinades), especially grilled octopus in a recaudo negro, a dish made iconic by chef Jose Luis Hinostroza’s Arca.

Here are the best places to find outdoor grilling, street food, Mexican and Yucatan cuisine, and even a little bit of old Tulum.

Price per person, excluding alcohol:

$ = Less than 200 pesos (less than USD $10)

$$ = 200 - 400 pesos (USD $10 to USD $20)

$$$ = 400 - 800 pesos (USD $20 to USD $40)

$$$$ = More than 800 pesos (more than USD $40)

Matthew Raiford’s new cookbook ‘Bress ’n’ Nyam’ intersperses family history with the Gullah Geechee recipes he grew up with

Matthew Raiford, a chef and farmer, always wanted to write a cookbook, specifically a cookbook about the South. The opportunity presented itself after he gave a TEDx talk in 2018. As Raiford sat offstage following the talk, titled “Legacy in the Soil,” writer Amy Condon approached him. “Amy walks out and goes, ‘Okay, you need to write a book,’” Raiford says. “And I just looked up at her and I was like, ‘Yeah, if you help me write it.’”

The book Raiford wrote with Condon is called Bress ’n’ Nyam, a Gullah phrase meaning “bless and eat.” And like that TEDx talk, it dives deep into Raiford’s own family legacy to give readers a sense of a place: his corner of the Georgia coast and more precisely, Gilliard Farms, the land that’s been in his family for six generations, since 1874.

Ultimately, with Bress ’n’ Nyam, Raiford hopes to “show what that scenery looks like and show what this area of the world looks like, because I’m not Charleston, I’m not Atlanta, I’m not Savannah, I’m not Florida. I’m kind of caught in that middle,” he says. “I wanted to write something that was indicative of this area and how I grew up.”

The particulars of life on Gilliard Farms appear in photographs, but also in recipes, as with the recipe for Effie’s Shrimp Creole. Effie is Raiford’s mother. Effie is also the name of his mother’s mother and her grandmother before her, and the recipe’s history reaches back nearly as far. “It’s about three generations old, if not four,” Raiford says. But it didn’t get the name it goes by in the book until Raiford’s mother discussed her coastal paella with a friend from Louisiana and they noted its similarities to the Louisiana dish. It became a signature. “This was one of the dishes my mom would take to parties ... everyone would devour this,” Raiford says. “You know when people go to church and a very specific person makes a pie and everyone wants to buy the slices of that pie? My mom’s shrimp Creole is like that.”

Raiford and his family would go out shrimping for the dish, and it’s this sense of connection between food and place that Raiford hopes readers take away from Bress ’n’ Nyam. “I want them to think about where they are and what food or foodways or food systems are in place in their area that they don’t know about,” he says. “Everybody has a food story and it just takes a moment sometimes to dial it all in and the more they dial in the more they’re going to find that’s going to be delicious.”

Effie’s Shrimp Creole

Serves 4

When folks think of coastal Georgia food, they think of shrimp and grits. That dish is definitely indicative of the Saltwater Gullah and Geechee who lived on the Sea Islands. They most often made the dish with a rich brown gravy or roux, much more akin to a gumbo. Freshwater —​ or mainland — ​Geechee, like my family, made something closer to a jambalaya, no okra but richly flavored with tomatoes and red pepper. The rice, of course, stretches it. For me, my mom’s shrimp creole, a recipe handed down through the family, is a comfort food.

Ingredients:

2 tablespoons unsalted butter
1 yellow onion, finely diced
3 garlic cloves, peeled and minced
1 green bell pepper, seeded and finely diced
1 red bell pepper, seeded and finely diced
1 orange bell pepper, seeded and finely diced
1 16-​ounce can tomato puree
1 tablespoon red pepper flakes
2 cups uncooked long-​grain rice or Carolina Gold Rice
1 quart warm shrimp stock, prepared or homemade (recipe follows)
2 pounds large shrimp, peeled and deveined, shells reserved for stock
Fine sea salt and freshly ground black pepper

Instructions:

Step 1: In a large cast-​iron skillet, melt the butter over medium heat. Stir in the onions and garlic, and saute until golden brown, about 5 minutes.

Step 2: Add the peppers, tomato puree, red pepper flakes, and rice, stirring until well combined. Pour the stock in slowly to prevent splattering, as the pan will be hot, then bring the creole to a boil. Once boiling, stir, cover, then reduce the heat to low and simmer for 15 minutes.

Step 3: Remove the cover, add the shrimp, and give the rice a good stir. Cook for 5 to 7 minutes more, until all the liquid is absorbed and the shrimp have pinked and curled. Taste and add salt and pepper to your liking. Serve and enjoy.

Shrimp Stock

Makes 2 quarts

Ingredients:

2 quarts (8 cups) cold water
4 cups shrimp shells
1 tablespoon olive oil
1 Vidalia onion, peeled and quartered
1 carrot, roughly chopped
1 celery rib, cut into 2-​inch pieces, including leaves
1 lemon, quartered
2 bay leaves
2 sprigs thyme
1 tablespoon kosher salt
1 teaspoon whole black peppercorns

Instructions:

Step 1: Pour the water in a large stockpot and set aside.

Step 2: Rinse and drain the shrimp shells. In a large skillet, heat the oil over medium-​high heat and toss the shrimp shells for 2 minutes. Add the onions, carrots, and celery and cook, stirring, for 2 to 3 minutes more.

Step 3: Add the shrimp shells and vegetables to the stockpot, then toss in the lemon, bay leaves, thyme, salt, and pepper. Bring the stock to a boil, then reduce heat and simmer for 40 minutes. Remove from the heat, then strain the stock through a cheesecloth-​lined sieve into quart-​ or pint-​sized containers. Cool the stock completely, then refrigerate for up to 2 weeks or freeze for later use.

Excerpted from Bress ’n’ Nyam: Gullah Geechee Recipes from a Sixth-Generation Farmer. Copyright © 2021 CheFarmer Matthew Raiford and Amy Paige Condon. Photography © 2021 by Siobhán Egan. Reproduced by permission of The Countryman Press, a Division of W.W. Norton & Company. All rights reserved.

The insistence that unemployed people accept “suitable” job offers is too vague and ignores why people are leaving their industries in the first place

Following weeks of howling from business owners and Republican politicians across the country about how stimulus checks, along with unemployment benefits, were encouraging people to stay out of work, President Joe Biden has decided to weigh in, giving undeserved legitimacy to the disingenuous debate.

Speaking in the East Room on Monday, Biden told reporters that his White House will “make it clear” that people who are currently accepting unemployment payments will be required to take a “suitable job” if offered, or risk losing their benefits. The presidents remarks come after a decidedly depressing jobs report last Thursday, which indicated that only about 260,000 — compared to the original projection of 1 million — jobs were created over the past month.

It’s a strange move for Biden, who has mostly championed stimulus checks and the $300 federal unemployment supplement, both of which remain extremely politically popular policy positions. To remark on the unemployed now seems like capitulation to a right-wing narrative that insists that out-of-work people are largely lazy freeloaders who’d rather collect meager government checks instead of earning a fair, livable wage. And then, of course, there is the fundamental question that sits at the center of the president’s argument: What exactly is a suitable job?

Under the president’s new guidance, workers would theoretically be forced to explain to the feds why they declined a job offer. Biden didn’t outline what type of work that his administration would consider “suitable,” either; would people be required to accept shitty part-time work, even if it didn’t cover their bills? Alternatively, would the government demand that people accept jobs that put their physical or mental health at risk to make ends meet?

At its onset, the COVID-19 pandemic exposed some pretty extreme vulnerabilities in the American job market and economy. As restaurants were forced to close their doors, revenues at businesses of all kinds plummeted and millions were left unable to do their jobs. In those months, state and federal unemployment programs provided an essential lifeline to both American families and the economy.

But as soon as it became clear that the pandemic wasn’t going to resolve itself in a matter of weeks — especially not with the level of ineptitude that plagued the prior administration’s efforts to curb the virus — both legislators and business owners insisted that there had to be a safe way to return to work. Workers in industries of all kinds donned masks, sanitized their hands constantly, and tried to adapt to the workplace in what would prove to be a both miserable and dangerous time.

That was especially true in the restaurant industry. We’ve all seen the memes online: Your local Arby’s is short-staffed because there just aren’t enough people willing to make Coolattas and curly fries for 7 bucks an hour in the middle of a pandemic, and the nearby Tex-Mex spot has to close on Mondays now. According to some very concerned people on Facebook and dipshit pundits like Tucker Carlson, this all points to the downfall of the American work ethic thanks to the lavish, luxurious lifestyle that comes with collecting a maximum of $800 a week.

Of course, none of those people are willing to acknowledge just how bad being a line cook or driving for UberEats or making fries at McDonalds can actually be, and that maybe workers have rightfully decided not to take it anymore. In the past year, restaurant workers have been forced to contend with customers ideologically opposed to wearing masks, as well as endure brutal working conditions as demand fluctuated and social distancing measures were implemented. Maybe, after 11 months of being spat on, threatened, screamed at, sexually harassed, bashed over the head with cocktail glasses, and facing the threat of actual death, many of the service industry’s best workers decided that these jobs were, in fact, not “suitable.”

In a letter to the editor of the Daytona Beach News-Journal, former saute cook Kate Sanderson rejected the narrative that restaurant workers who accepted unemployment benefits at any point during the pandemic were “lazy,” explaining that her choice to work less in 2020 was specifically connected to her decision to get out of an industry she knew to be harmful. “I am confident that I am not lazy. I reject the risks endemic to restaurants in favor of another risk: investing in my future,” Sanderson wrote. “I took a hit financially so I could pursue a dignified job that rewards me for my talents. I am getting ready to contribute to our local community.”

This is a point that Biden himself made later in the Monday press conference. “I think people who claim Americans won’t work, even if they find a good and fair opportunity, underestimate the American people,” Biden said. Which is definitely an odd thing to say immediately after suggesting that there are, in fact, enough freeloaders who are taking advantage of the system instead of going back to work that the President of the United States must address it.

The restaurant industry, and many other industries that employ low-paid workers, have some real soul-searching to do. Employers need to figure out why people would rather work at Amazon warehouses, where peeing in bottles to spare time is apparently commonplace, than come back to waiting tables or bartending. It absolutely must figure out a way to compensate its workers more equitably, and address the systemic inequality that plagues it. Then, and only then, can restaurant owners complain about people not wanting to work in restaurants.

What is most infuriating about the remarks from Biden is that, like the fury that inspired them, they’re largely hot air, unlikely to ever actually materialize into any real policy. Most states currently require people on unemployment to do a certain amount of job-seeking already, and there’s no real way to prove whether or not a job offer is actually “suitable” for a given person. Biden’s statement is a completely asinine bit of pandering to Republicans, who plan to fight tooth-and-nail against another extension of the $300 weekly federal unemployment benefit. It’s already happening on the state level in Republican-led states like Alabama, Arkansas, and Montana, where legislators have announced that they will no longer participate in the programs that put extra cash in the pockets of their citizens.

What the president could do, though, is develop policy proposals that are aimed at meaningfully improving the working conditions of workers across industries. He could direct the Department of Labor to implement stricter penalties for employers that engage in wage theft, require companies to provide paid sick leave to their employees, and develop national safety standards for people who work in hazardous industries. He could stump even harder for the PRO Act, which would make it easier for millions of workers to unionize.

It’s especially galling for the president to suggest that people accept jobs that can’t support them, even after 40 hours of back-breaking work per week. This insinuation is incredibly insulting to the millions of line cooks and servers and meatpackers and valet parkers who were, pre-pandemic, pulling 12-hour shifts and still couldn’t afford to pay rent and the electric bill with the same paycheck.

Perhaps President Biden could more aggressively advocate a meaningful increase to the federal minimum wage. That, to borrow the his words, would not be turning our backs on our fellow Americans after a year packed with trauma and uncertainty.

Texas Gov. Greg Abbott officially signed the bill today, allowing restaurants and bars to offer boozy drinks for takeout and delivery

An updated list of recommendations from Eater’s shopping newsletter

Eater’s shopping newsletter, Add to Cart, spotlights the latest in cooking tools, food books, and drinks; merch for a good cause; and all the tableware and food-themed home goods that I would very much like to own (and thus, that I hope will pique your interest enough to click that “add to cart” button). But there are also times when you already know you want to buy something — housewarmings, birthdays, paydays, and days when you just feel like supporting a small business — and just need to be pointed in the right direction. For that, there’s this post: Think of it as a consistently updated gift guide and home base for the Add to Cart universe.

Here, you’ll find a collection of items mentioned in the newsletter that are still shoppable, organized into five categories: cookware and home goods, clothing and merch, food, drinks, and books. Be sure to check back — I’ll be adding new things to buy every week — and subscribe to Add to Cart to start your week with shopping inspiration sent straight to your inbox.

Cookware and Home Goods

Standout kitchen tools, tableware, and home decor that strike the right balance of form and function

Clothing and Merch

The cutest food-themed clothing, restaurant merch, and brand collabs

Food

From starter ingredients to complete meals, all the food that’s fit to gift

Drinks

Intriguing cans and bottles, both alcoholic and non-

Books

Reading material for cooks and restaurant-goers alike

The Add to Cart Archives

• Dansk is getting a makeover [ATC 05.09.21]
• A twist on Mother’s Day flowers [ATC 05.02.21]
• Two food books to buy now right now [ATC 04.25.21]
• The cookbook cover featured on a $300 T-shirt [ATC 04.18.21]
• Can I interest you in a bread tube? [ATC 04.11.21]
• Shopping for my post-vaccine life [ATC 04.04.21]
• The cookbooks we’re cooking from this spring [ATC 03.28.21]
• The tools you’ll need to decorate frilly Instagram cakes [ATC 03.21.21]
• A new way to embrace microwave cooking [ATC 03.14.21]
• Spring is a good enough excuse as any to get something new [ATC 03.07.21]
• A bread drawer is another level of kitchen organization [ATC 02.28.21]
• Kacey Musgraves is selling a tee to help feed Texas [ATC 02.21.21]
• A guide to grower Champagne [ATC 02.14.21]

Butchers Ben Turley and Brent Young believe this dry-aged pork porterhouse should be on the menu

“Pork is generally undervalued,” says Brooklyn-based butcher Brent Young. “It deserves to be on the menu at a steakhouse right next to that New York Strip or your Ribeye.” Ben Turley, his partner at the Meat Hook butcher shop, is in full agreement. With their high opinion of pork, they decide to embark on a dry-aged pork experiment that they believe will result in a steakhouse-level dish.

The experiment involves around a four week dry-age process. “[At four weeks,] you don’t get the funk or umami from [longer] dry-aging, but you do get a really crisp and clear picture from the product you just got from the farm,” explains Ben.

They begin by butchering a half pig from Gibson Family Farms down the loin, and putting it in their aging fridge set between 32 and 40 degrees Fahrenheit, and 75 to 80% humidity. After four weeks, the color and texture of the meat changes from bright pink to dark red, the loin weighs two pounds less due to a loss of moisture content, and the meat has also pulled away from the bone.

The two compare a fresh piece of pork tenderloin to the dry-aged one, cooking both in butter, garlic, and thyme. For both pieces, they render out the fat and fry it on both sides on medium high heat, and then crank it up to sear. When it comes time for the taste test, they both conclude that the fresh pork tastes simple and clean. When they taste the dry-aged one, they are amazed at how “porky,” it tastes, with fat that melts in their mouths.

“It’s really just a more intensified version of our control,” says Brent. “It’s supremely juicy and supremely tender just because of the dry age. We just gave the pork the time it needed to reach the apex of what it can be.”

New York chef Tyler Heckman uses a dried shiitake dashi in place of brodo in his recipe

Like a remake of a classic movie or TV show, chefs like to put their own spins on beloved dishes. That impulse can translate into babka that’s more reminiscent of pizza than rugelach, duck breast that’s speckled with pastrami spices instead of beef, and butter mochi that might just remind you of a birthday cake.

It also means that something as unwavering as tortellini en brodo — a traditional soup cherished throughout Italy — can get a fresh new update in the hands of a curious chef. Classic tortellini en brodo, meaning “in broth,” has been a comfort for New York chef Tyler Heckman when temperatures outside range between freezing and cold-for-May. Along with his kitchen team at Greenwich Village restaurant Villanelle, Heckman used the tortellini en brodo framework to make something unique while keeping it simple and approachable.

His recipe incorporates dashi instead of a classic brodo. Dashi is used widely in Japanese cuisine, and refers to a number of broths that are made from steeping ingredients in cold or warm water. Those ingredients can include kombu, bonito flakes, dried shiitake mushrooms, and dried sardines. Heckman says he uses a lot of dashi in his cooking at Villanelle; for this particular recipe, he used dried shiitakes for the broth, along with some parmesan rind. As for the pasta shape, he and his team decided to go with capatelli, which is ever so slightly different from tortellini. You can try it for yourself with the recipe below.

Tortellini en Brodo

Adapted from chef Tyler Heckman - Villanelle

Serves 6-8

Ingredients:

For the pasta dough:

145 grams 00 flour
Pinch of salt
75 grams egg yolk (approximately 4 large yolks)
25 grams water

For the parmesan rind dashi:

1000 grams cold water
20 grams dried shiitake mushrooms
30 grams kombu
30 grams shaved katsuobushi
125 grams parmesan rind
Salt, to taste
Soy sauce, to taste

For the tortellini filling:

25 grams rehydrated shiitake mushrooms
2 cloves garlic
Zest and juice of 2 lemons
1 whole egg
1 pound ricotta cheese, drained in a cheesecloth-lined colander for a few hours or overnight in the refrigerator
Salt, to taste
Pepper, to taste

For garnish:

Maitake, white button or any mushroom of your choice

Instructions:

First, make the pasta dough:

Step 1: Begin by mixing the flour and salt in the bowl of a stand mixer with a paddle attachment on speed 2. Add the egg yolks and water. Gradually increase the speed to 4. Once everything is incorporated, switch to a dough hook and keep kneading at speed 4 until the dough is smooth and springy; since this is a very stiff dough, this may take up to 5 minutes.

Step 2: Transfer the dough to a clean countertop, making sure to scrape up any pieces left behind in the bowl. Knead the dough by hand for a few minutes. Roll the dough into a ball and wrap with plastic, then rest the dough at room temperature for a minimum of 15 minutes. The dough can be made ahead of time, and kept in the refrigerator for 2 days before shaping.

Next, make the parmesan rind dashi:

Step 1: Combine the cold water, dried shiitake mushrooms, and kombu in a pot and heat over medium heat. Bring to a simmer, making sure that the mushrooms and kombu are submerged and hydrated. Turn off the heat and add the shaved katsuobushi and the parmesan rinds to the pot. Cover the pot with a lid and let the broth steep for 20 minutes.

Step 2: Strain the steeped broth through a chinois or a colander lined with cheesecloth into a shallow container. Save the hydrated shiitake mushrooms for the filling in the next step. Season the broth with salt and soy sauce to taste.

Make the tortellini filling:

Step 1: Place 25 grams of the reserved shiitake mushrooms in a blender and combine them with garlic, lemon zest, and lemon juice, starting at a low speed and increasing gradually to high so that the mushrooms are finely pureed. With the blender on medium speed, add the egg and half of the ricotta cheese. Once the ingredients are well incorporated, add the rest of the ricotta and puree on high speed until smooth. Be careful not to overwork the filling as it will become runny. Transfer the filling into a bowl and season to taste with salt and pepper.

Assemble the pasta:

Step 1: Roll out the pasta dough into sheets then divide into quarters. (If you’re rolling the dough manually, then roll until it’s thin and translucent.) Work with one piece at a time, keeping the others covered with plastic or a wet towel. Run the dough through a pasta roller on progressively thinner settings until you have a sheet of paper-thin pasta. (Setting #6 if you are using a KitchenAid).

Step 2: Cut the sheet into rounds using a 21/2 - 2 ¾-inch round cutter, spacing the rounds as close together as possible. Gather the scraps into a ball and reserve them with the remaining pieces of dough to re-roll later.

Step 3: Fill a small bowl with water and set it aside. Place about 1/2 teaspoon of filling in the middle of each round, being careful not to overfill them. Dip your finger in the bowl of water and run it along the edge of the round to moisten. Fold the dough over to form a half-moon and press around the edges to seal the filling and expel any air pockets. Then join the two corners to form a rounded bonnet shape. Lightly toss with flour, then set aside on a floured baking sheet. Repeat with remaining pieces of dough, re-rolling the scraps. Letting the tortellini air out for about 20 to 30 minutes will help them to harden a little bit before cooking.

Cook and assemble the dish:

Step 1: Heat the parmesan dashi broth in a pot until it is hot. On a separate burner, bring a large pot of salted water to a boil for the pasta. Add the tortellini in batches so they don’t stick together and cook for about 1 minute — you want them to be al dente, but just warm in the middle. Strain the tortellini and transfer to a warm serving bowl. Cover with the dashi broth and garnish with the raw or cooked mushrooms of your choice. Finish with a drizzle of olive oil and serve immediately.

Recipe tested by Louiie Victa

D.C. restaurants and bars are scrambling to prepare to open at full capacity on May 21 after more than a year of partial shutdowns and social distancing requirements