Notes from a Young Black Chef Quotes

“Nothing is a turnoff like a New York City housing authority kitchen. People want to hear about that once you're successful, not when you're living in it.”
― Kwame Onwuachi, Notes from a Young Black Chef

“Sometimes racism takes the form of ugly words and actions. Other times it remains unspoken, communicated by hostile looks and secret snickers. But the most corrosive form, and often the hardest to address, is not being seen at all.”
― Kwame Onwuachi, Notes from a Young Black Chef

“But more infuriating is the question about to whom I should have been paying dues. It seems like the only ones keeping track are the white guys with tall hats. And how did those guys get into the club? By paying dues to older white guys with even taller hats. As for the thousands of black and brown chefs—dubbed cooks, domestics, servants, boys, and mammies who were kept out of restaurant kitchens or overlooked within them—they were beyond consideration. Their work, like them, was invisible.”
― Kwame Onwuachi, Notes from a Young Black Chef

“I want to see a world in which not only the food from the African diaspora but the food from Africa is given the respect it deserves. When I push open the kitchen doors, I want to see a dining room full of diners, especially Brown and Black diners, who looking at their plates feel seen, celebrated, and recognized. And when I look in the mirror, I want to see a young black chef who made that world a reality.”
― Kwame Onwuachi, Notes from a Young Black Chef

“When the best thing, doesn't matter what it is - a shoe, restaurant accolade is out there staring you in the face, I never understood how someone could settle for less.

Surround yourself with the subpar and you can't blame anyone for thinking you are too. Surround yourself with the best, and the best rubs off.

My motto has always been to do better every single year. Don't settle for a step down.”
― Kwame Onwuachi, Notes from a Young Black Chef

“As I morphed from from a fat, cute kid to a young man, the world began to see me differently. At Mount Saint Michael's, the Catholic private school to which I had transferred, I was surrounded and befriended by much tougher kids, mostly black like me, many of whom had grown up fending for themselves. Many of the teachers, however, were middle-aged or older white women, and they approached us 10 year olds like we were dangerous. They wielded their power like prison wardens and in their fear, I saw reflected back an image of myself I hadn't seen before. At the same time, I saw the power my friends possessed. How they could manipulate using fear. As our teachers reprimanded us, and when that didn't work suspended us, I saw how the kids around me dealt with this anger and frustration. They turned their faces to stone and dead in their eyes like those of statues. They became hard and menacing, and as I saw it then, that hardness meant strength.”
― Kwame Onwuachi, Notes from a Young Black Chef

“As I morphed from from a fat, cute kid to a young man, the world began to see me differently. At Mount Saint Michael's, the Catholic private school to which I had transferred, I was surrounded and befriended by much tougher kids, mostly black like me, many of whom had grown up fending for themselves. Many of the teachers, however, were middle-aged or older white women, and they approached us 10 year olds like we were dangerous. They wielded their power like prison wardens and in their fear, I saw reflected back an image of myself I hadn't seen before. At the same time, I saw the power my friends possessed. How they could manipulate using fear. As our teachers reprimanded us, and when that didn't work suspended us, I saw how the kids around me dealt with this anger and frustration. They turned their faces to stone and dead in their eyes like those of statues. They became hard and menacing, and as I saw it then, that hardness meant strength.”
― Joshua David Stein, Notes from a Young Black Chef

“I realized that being a cook wasn't only about providing people with food, but rather about providing them with the feeling that they were cared for.”
― Kwame Onwuachi, Notes from a Young Black Chef

“Like stolen labor, this stew became part of a Southern culture whose origins rest on the corrupt scaffolding of slavery.”
― Kwame Onwuachi, Notes from a Young Black Chef

“consommé.”
― Kwame Onwuachi, Notes from a Young Black Chef

“But just before I head inside, I pause for a second to take in the enormity of the moment and my small role in it. Five stories up and I'm still standing on hallowed ground. Caskets and chains and splintered beams of slave ships, knives and forks and salt shakers, Woolworth stools and mammy figurines, freedom and blood, progress and pain, voices raised and voices silenced, courage. The purpose of this museum is to resurrect the dead, to honor their lives, to celebrate their progress, to remember their suffering, to never forget their stories. This building is an argument that these stories, traditions, this suffering, this history, matters. In three weeks, I will open my restaurant and with it, I'll have a chance to add my voice to that chorus. To prove that my story, like the millions of voices behind and beneath me, matters. As I push open the kitchen door, the last of my smile fades and I get back to work. I'm standing on stories, and this is my own.”
― Kwame Onwuachi, Notes from a Young Black Chef