What can queer food do for queer people?

Looking beyond the glitter-coated optimism of Pride Month. [View on web]( [An illustration of a rainbos and people in bright colors dancing on food items]( Marco Tirado In his biography [The Man Who Ate Too Much: The Life of James Beard](, author John Birdsall writes about pitching an article to [Lucky Peach]( for its [gender issue in 2013](, about closeted male food writers, like Beard, who shaped America’s tastes in the 20th century. “A code of straightness ruled the nation’s restaurant kitchens, an ethos oozing corrosive gender tropes,” he writes, and while Lucky Peach “had built an arena for chefs, queer voices didn’t rise there. The silence flooded me with grievance — especially since every chef I knew wanted to win a James Beard Award.” Just over a decade later, it’s hard to imagine the food world without queerness; we’ve clearly come to the cultural understanding that queer food is a thing. In 2018, the New York Times [published a piece]( about the “ascent of queer food culture,” noting Birdsall’s 2013 [Lucky Peach essay](. Eater has been running our [Queer Table series]( since 2019. In 2020, [Food & Wine asked]( a group of queer hospitality workers what queer food is, and in 2022, Bon Appétit ran its [Food Is Queer]( package, with pieces on how trans chefs are changing the restaurant industry, and reclaiming the slur “fruit.” In April, I attended and presented at the inaugural [Queer Food Conference](, a weekend full of workshops and panels about everything from rural queer restaurant pop-ups to nonbinary botany. Now, Birdsall is working on a second book called [What Is Queer Food?]( Lille Allen So yes, food is queer. But as queer voices have risen, they’ve come with the message that visibility is not liberation. For this year’s Queer Table coverage — which coalesces in June but has been and will continue to be present all year — I wanted to dig deeper into this moment. What does accepting that food is queer do for queer people? “Queer” often becomes a too-easy shorthand for all things transgressive and counterculture — essentially, “cool.” But food isn’t just queer because it can be a rebellion against tradition, however fun and romantic that feels. Food is queer because, at its best, it enriches the lives of queer people, allowing us space for creativity and experimentation, and to take ownership of industries and practices that have so long relied on our presence. A restaurant crediting its queer chefs on the menu, or a pop-up bringing queer people together for a pizza party or a potluck: these are demonstrations of community building in a culture that seems freshly invigorated to keep queer people isolated and miserable. But food is also queer because it has historically relied on, and served as a tangible example of, queer exploitation. Queer people, who on the whole [make 90 cents on the dollar]( compared to their straight counterparts, are twice as likely to [work in food]( and beverage retail. (God forbid they have other identities that might lead to compounding pay cuts.) There’s a [one-in-five chance]( the person making your food or bringing it to your table for a tipped minimum wage is queer. And the people creating food media — writing the recipes, stoking those viral social media discourses, and making the videos devoured by viewers — are queer, even as they’re being [denied essential medical care]( by the media companies making money off of how they look, dress, and speak.. Their queerness and personhood persist, even as those companies run articles in other sections that are [used to support anti-queer legislation](. Okay, maybe that sounds a little bleak, but it’s important to look beyond the glitter and confetti-coated optimism that typically blankets this season. I have to believe that food will continue to make queer life better, globally and individually. If there’s one theme to the pieces we’re running this year, it’s that food can be a site for change. It can change how you interact with your community; it can change your understanding of yourself; and it can change your very body. Queer voices across the world have risen. Listen closely, and you could be changed by what they have to say. — Jaya Saxena, Queer Table consulting editor   [A photo of a shuttered Red Lobster restaurant]( Get to know the businesses rethinking queer hospitality and community for a new generation | Eater Another Round: Before you dive into this month’s upcoming coverage, revisit these standout pieces from Eater’s Queer Table series. - Many businesses strive to support fellow members of the queer community. Here’s [how queer restaurants keep their money in their community](. - Drag queen-authored cookbooks have long been [guides to embracing femininity]( — and questioning gender altogether. - Despite a wave of anti-drag legislation across the country last year, the show goes on for [performers at Texas’s legendary Rose Room](.   [Facebook]( [Twitter]( [Instagram]( This email was sent to {EMAIL}. Manage your [email preferences]( or [unsubscribe](param=today). View our [Privacy Notice]( and our [Terms of Service](. Vox Media, 1701 Rhode Island Ave NW, Washington, DC 20036. Copyright © 2024. All rights reserved.