To Fight Fear, Raise a Fork
When terrorists use random violence, they leave widespread uncertainty and fear among those impacted. This applies even if that effect is indirect, such as the impact of the recent white terrorism in Texas and at the Gilroy Garlic Festival in California on immigrants in Queens.
That last one hit close to home. I’ve been a journalist and food writer for 25 years. As a crude generalization, journalists are people driven to find stuff out, verify it and then tell as many people as they can. I became aware of the extent that the terrorists have gotten under my skin and inside my head when the prospect of a simple, fun food story became a moral dilemma, and I decided (for better or worse) not to pitch a food story or post pictures of the Queens Night Market on my Instagram food blog.
I write about food because it is so fundamental to who I am. The breaking of bread has always been the basis of creating strong families and communities. In the age of Amazon and Alibaba, I’m grateful to live in a borough where I can maintain a personal relationship between my food and the people who produce and cook it.
Queens, whose identity is also closely tied to its food, has an abundance of farmers markets, community-supported agriculture (CSA) harvest subscription programs and events that highlight our internationally renowned restaurants and food producers. That’s part of what makes it such a wonderful place to live.
When a young couple I know told me their family wanted to subvert South India’s signature dish, the vegetarian dosa, I was intrigued and couldn’t wait to try one. I resolved to go to the market, where the family had opened a stand, and taste their chicken curry dosas.
An idea for a food story formed in my mind. I instantly had a catchy title: “Think Dosa. Think Vegetarian Marsala Dosa. Think Again.”
I smelled the market before I saw it; the aromas of roasting meats, fresh herbs and exotic spices drew me in. With so many choices, my friends’ carnivore dosas took a back seat. The market was everything I love about Queens: food and people, native born and from all over the world, mixing, mingling. There were African Americans, Chinese, Burmese Ukrainians, Colombians, Mexicans, Koreans, Italians, Indians, Peruvians, mixing together. And there were Christians, Jews, Muslims, Hindus and Buddhists, all enjoying a mind-boggling array of international cuisine on summer evening in the park.
I began taking pictures that I hoped would capture the diversity of the people as well as the food, and the spirit of the place. Just as I was about to post my pics to Instagram, I heard a popping sound. I knew it wasn’t a gunshot, but I immediately looked up, as did everyone around me. The recent deadly shooting at the Gilroy Garlic Festival in California merged in my mind with the image of a terrorist driving 10 hours to kill Hispanic immigrants in El Paso.
I suddenly felt vulnerable and frightened. I didn’t want anyone to know about this place; especially, I didn’t want them to see all this happy partying and blending. I wanted to protect it and keep it safely hidden. That is, the recent mass shootings had caused me to be the opposite of who I am.
Markets like this one, and annual events such as A Taste of Sunnyside and a Taste of Long Island City, do more than help bond our community. They provide a low-stakes venue where energetic entrepreneurs can test their creations on a receptive public. My own son, Alex, who began a cocktail mixer business in his Astoria living room and built it to a national company, cut his entrepreneurial teeth at Smorgasburg in Brooklyn, a market very similar to our local night market.
Food events like this are integral to the dynamism of our local economy. And they need people like you and me—people who embrace our diverse food culture—to come out and try their offerings. Citing the example of a Dominican vegan pop-up that went from the market to opening a restaurant, Amanda Celestino, editor of Edible Bronx and co-founder of the Bronx Night Market, said, “I’ve witnessed firsthand the good the market has done in bringing the community together and providing support and opportunity for small businesses and entrepreneurs.”
If I gave in to the urge to remain silent, to not tell you about the delicious offerings right here in our own borough, I’d be letting the terrorists win. Fear is an important emotion and intimately connected to our ability to protect ourselves and survive. But what I don’t want to do is live from my fear, and I realized that I’ve been doing that lately. The chances that a terrorist would see a picture on Instagram and come to an event are small. Then again, so are the chances of getting shot in a movie theater, but I rarely go to the pictures anymore, not to mention church.
Unfortunately, the people who run these events, including Edible Queens’s own publisher, Claudia Sanchez, are only too aware of the dangers of our current climate of terror. “We are working with the NYPD’s 101st precinct for our upcoming Endless Summer event. We will have uniformed security, but we also have plainclothes security.” Like so many others she despairs that after the Gilroy Garlic Festival shooting, even food has become associated with fear. “Public assembly has become the main target for acts of violence,” she said.
Public events have always required security. But before the ramping up of hate speech of the past couple of years that security was in place to deal with a local drunkard, or someone who faints and needs to see the medic. Everyone is aware of the dangers, and as John Wang, owner of the Queens Night Market, put it, “I have a boatload of security.”
Celestino was in middle school on 9/11. “I often feel that fear, usually on the subway platform. But what can we do? You have to take all the appropriate and responsible precautions, and then get on with it. You can’t control everything.” Celestino works closely with the 48th Precinct and the Fordham Road Business Improvement District (BID), and is grateful for their support. Access to the market is restricted with designated entrances, and she knows that in addition to the police on hand, there is backup waiting nearby.
Our Queens food culture is a microcosm of one possible—delicious—future: so many ethnic backgrounds, nationalities and religions happily fused into one community. Among the younger people attending were many mixed-race couples, and not just white and black. There were Hispanics holding hands with Asians, east Asians with south Asians, Caribbeans with Europeans.
In the space of an hour or so I experienced a taste of South India in the chicken curry dosa, Beijing (Peking) via a duck sandwich, and Romania and Hungary through a “Twister Cake”—a spin on the classic sweet, fried, summer fair fare.
How did the terrorists get inside my head? How did they succeed in making me want to hide, rather than celebrate, my borough’s diversity and fabulous food? Even more importantly, how do I get them out of my mind? Continuing to celebrate the food and people of Queens seems like a good place start. When people like me fail to tell you about these wonderful events we run the risk of losing our connection to each other, and our ability to support those among us who want our connection to our food to continue to be personal and meaningful. That would be a great loss.
By using the underutilized community space that houses her market, Celestino has worked to create “a space where people feel safe, loved and welcome.” Because she’s been able to do this, she’s excited to be at the market.
