Earlier this year, chef Marcus Samuelsson of Food Network Chopped fame took an inspiring journey across the United States in which he explored – and celebrated – the wide-ranging diversity of immigrant traditions and cuisine woven into American food and culture.
On “No Passport Required,” a six-episode PBS/Eater series which first aired across the U.S. during the summer months, Samuelsson visited Detroit, New Orleans, Chicago, New York City, Miami and Washington, D.C. An immigrant himself, who was born in Ethiopia and raised in Sweden, Samuelsson discovered dynamic and creative ways in which a particular community thrives – making its mark, so to speak. He spoke to poets and musicians, business owners and community leaders, as well as artists and home cooks – each who have contributed to enhancing our nation’s culture and its cuisine.
In Detroit, Samuelsson gathered with Middle Eastern immigrants who call the Motor City home and in New Orleans, he learned how the culinary traditions of the Vietnamese have been fully integrated into the fabric of the Big Easy, which has its long-established French and Creole influences. Samuelsson gathered with Ethiopians in Washington, D.C., and with the Indo-Guyanese in Queens, New York. He discovered how Chicago’s Mexican neighborhoods have impacted that area’s food and culture, and in Miami, he was welcomed by the city’s proud Haitian community.
The bottom line in Samuelsson’s adventures – and what I learned from watching – is this: there are many wondrous global food traditions that are waiting to be discovered throughout the United States. Sometimes, we just need a little bit of encouragement. After all, as the title of Samuelsson’s show reinforces, there’s No Passport Required.
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There’s a great back story about chef Samuelsson I blogged about six years ago that's worth sharing, again. Back in July 2012, he wrote a memoir, Yes, Chef – an incomparable story – about what it means to be an American. Through his cooking, he told a story that in the words of former President Bill Clinton, “reached past racial and national divides to the foundations of family, hope and downright good food.” Gabrielle Hamilton, the bestselling author of Blood, Bones & Butter said that Samuelsson exudes “a quiet bravery, and a lyrical and discreetly glittering style – in the kitchen and on the page.”
Thus, an opportunity to meet chef Samuelsson in person, hear him wax poetically on his life’s passion and get a signed copy of his memoir was too good an opportunity to pass up.
“It begins with a simple ritual: Every Saturday afternoon, a boy who loves to cook walks to his grandmother’s house and helps her prepare a roast chicken for dinner. The grandmother is Swedish, a retired domestic. The boy is Ethiopian and adopted, and he will grow up to become the world-renowned chef Marcus Samuelsson.” His memoir, Yes, Chef, became his love letter to food and family in all its manifestations.
As Samuelsson shared his fascinating life’s story at Book Passage’s intimate San Francisco Ferry Building store, he said, “Sometimes, the worst situation can become the best situation.”
In a chapter of Yes, Chef devoted to his grandmother, Helga, Samuelsson wrote: “Mormor (the Swedish word for mother’s mother) treated her house like it was her own little food factory. She made everything herself: jams, pickles, and breads. She bought large cuts of meat or whole chickens and game animals from the butcher and then broke them down into chops and roasts at home. It’s so funny to me how, today, we celebrate braising as some refined, elegant approach, when it’s the same slow cooking method Mormor used. Her menus followed a simple logic:
“You have bread today because it’s fresh. You have toast tomorrow because the bread has gone stale. You make croutons the next day, and whatever bread is left after that gets ground into crumbs that you’ll use to batter fish.
“I don’t think I saw a rib-eye steak until my late teens when I started working in restaurants. At home, we ate mostly ground meat that was rolled into balls and stretched even further by ample additions of breadcrumbs. We ate our own Swedish version of a hamburger: pan beef, a patty topped with caramel iced onions. Sometimes we ate beef Lindstrom: a hamburger patty mixed with onions, capers, and pickled beets before being seared in butter. That’s comfort food where I come from, and it’s damn good.”
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At times, it’s been a struggle for Samuelsson to find his place, both in the kitchen and in the world. At least now, he has the appearance of a man who’s found peace in all the right places – and he’s always with a smile on his face.
“I am an immigrant, not a refugee,” Samuelsson reminds us. “There is a big difference. I am as a patriotic as any American. I am determined and grateful.”
As a chef, Samuelsson states that inside the kitchen or out, “it’s a matter of luck and the belief in others.
“Cooking has changed, but the core values remain the same. It’s about expressing a journey and culture. What better way than through food,” he says. And, besides, as Samuelsson playfully shared with his San Francisco audience on that summer night six years ago, “My fried chicken is better than yours!”
