Page 87 - Sharp November 2024

MOTHER TONGUE
FOR DAKAR NOLA’S CHEF SERIGNE MBAYE, SENEGALESE CUISINE MEANS CONNECTION
By Cormac Newman
S TEP INSIDE DAKAR NOLA, AND YOU’RE MET WITH A CROWD
of smells and sounds; each table blooms with cheerful chatter, the celebratory buzz of graduations and anniversaries. Pleasant punches of spice fill the air, floating off decadent jollof rice and seasoned summer squash. And, in addition to these delectable dishes, you’ll enjoy a chat with chef Serigne Mbaye.
“I cook the food, but I also want to meet the people eating it,” Mbaye tells me over the phone. “That’s what my mom did! She cooked the food, served it to them, then came back to greet them and talk to them. To me, that’s hospitality.”
We called to talk about Dakar NOLA, Mbaye’s award-winning Senegalese restaurant in New Orleans, Louisiana. Before we made it to the Big Easy, though, we had a few stops to make. First was Harlem, New York City — Mbaye’s birthplace. The kitchen colours his first memories.
“I really thought that she was the queen of all queens,” says Mbaye. “She hosted parties and everyone just praised her, everyone just loved her.” Mbaye remembers his mother’s parties as a cornerstone of the community, inspiring kinship with homemade cuisine. “The people that I knew as a kid, family, relatives, loved her,” says Mbaye. “So, in childhood, I remember my mom just being celebrated — and all she was doing was cooking food.”
Those memories form the basis for Mbaye’s career, solidifying the idea of cuisine as a way to connect with others. This philosophy gained new significance when Mbaye — roughly five years old — left his home in Harlem and relocated to Senegal.
“We stayed in Senegal for nearly 10 years. When I came back, you know, I didn’t speak English. I didn’t know anything about the
whole American culture,” recalls Mbaye. “It was tough. It was an adjustment. It was difficult.”
The chef calls his return to the States “a culture shock,” though he also describes it as a pivotal moment in his culinary career. “Food was one way for me to connect back, wherever we go, to my dad, my mother, to their relationship, everything: the space, the kitchen, bonding together,” says Mbaye. “I was able to connect with the world. It was easier to navigate food.”
Mbaye’s affinity for the kitchen led him to find work as a dish- washer — a convenient post, he says, because the position didn’t require much English. “It’s pretty simple. You gotta wash the dishes. You just follow; no long sentences,” he laughs.
After paying his dues in the dish pit, Mbaye headed north to attend culinary school in Vermont. It was intensive, to be sure, but invigorating. “I wanted to cook the food that I grew up with — the food that my mom was cooking — and to find that level; a level [at which] it could be respected.”
For Mbaye, serving West African cuisine is a way to communicate with others, overcoming prejudice through education. His view is rooted in his own experience returning from Senegal. “When I came back, I was dressing how I dressed in Senegal, my English wasn’t great, I smelled like the sauces my mom was using the night before; the kids around me in high school didn’t understand. Like, ‘What the hell [is] wrong with this kid?’” he says. “But I got all that and embraced it.”
Once he wrapped up culinary school, Mbaye knew he wanted to serve West African cuisine. He said goodbye to Vermont and made a quick trip back to Senegal — his first visit in years. It was a fateful trip.
“On my return to Senegal, I met some folks that lived in New Orleans,” he explains. “I was like, ‘I’m going to come to New Orleans, I’ll give it three months, and see what happens.’”
The three-month trial came and went. Mbaye was hooked: “I began to learn about the history, the people, the food and music,” he says. “New Orleans is very rooted in West Africa, in a way that I’d never experienced outside of Africa.”
Before opening Dakar, Mbaye tested the waters with stints in restaurants and various pop-ups, noting how people reacted. With practice, experience, and research, he says, “you understand the story you’re trying to tell.”
With a few years of Dakar under his belt, Mbaye knows his story well. “I hope that folks leave my restaurant feeling inspired to want to learn about West African food and understand that we also belong and that our food is beautiful,” says Mbaye. “We also have something to offer, through food; our cuisine also is delicious, and we matter as humans, you know?”
Mbaye thinks of his diners like house guests. He’s on the floor “every night,” making conversation, gathering feedback, and swapping stories. As Mbaye shares his culture through food, his guests teach him something, too: they care.
“I felt no one would appreciate, or no one would care about [the food] — I was wrong. People just didn’t know enough about it,” says the chef. “When they come in, they’re just so excited — oh man, they’re just so excited — and they’re very appreciative.”
That’s no surprise; Dakar NOLA has racked up praise, earning distinctions for hospitality. But for Mbaye, satisfying his clients is more important than any award. “I believe that food — good food — should nurture the soul. It should inspire, it should celebrate you as a person,” he says. “I want people to leave our restaurant feeling good about African food, not being afraid of it, knowing that our food is delicious, nutritious, healthy, but — most importantly — celebratory.”
FOOD & DRINK
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