A banner reading ‘We Are Everywhere’ at a Gay Pride march on Fifth Avenue in New York City, USA, … More July 1979. (Photo by Archive Photos/Getty Images)
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In his book released a month ago, What is Queer Food? How We Served a Revolution, writer/historian John Birdsall challenges readers to dive deeply into a chronicle of culture that was quite literally curated and nourished by people having to hide a giant piece of their authentic selves. This important record not only reveals so much more about who these figures were–like James Baldwin, Alice B. Toklas, Esther Eng, Harry Baker, Craig Claiborne, Richard Olney, and James Beard, etc.,–but firmly establishes their rightful places in history, and within the culinary sphere of taste and pleasure that hummed throughout the 20th century.
Originally set out to produce more of a memoir, Birdsall was encouraged by his editor, Melanie Tortoroli, to see this project as an opportunity to widen the scope, to create something that hadn’t been done before, all while still being able to share a sense of his own perspective and experience within a world he knew well and deeply loved. She encouraged him to take queerness in food in whatever direction he saw fit. Birdsall admits there came a well of freedom upon such an invitation to explore.
Cover of Birdsall’s new book, What is Queer Food? Released on June 3. Cover illustration by Naomi P. … More Wilkinson and book design by Sarah May Wilkinson (no relation).
WW Norton
The Book
The result is a book that is truly the first of its kind, one that spans genres and takes risks. In one way, Birdsall picks up where he left off in his 2013 article, “America, Your Food is So Gay” for Lucky Peach; and from his 2020 biography of James Beard, The Man Who Ate Too Much, in order to take on this next, much broader project. Nevertheless, Birdsall says, “I think this book has always been in me.”
In an unmistakably beautiful, literary voice, one underscored by the intersection of history, emotion, and experience, What is Queer Food? also asks readers to look at the term ‘queer’ through a sharper lens; to give it more dimension and nuance, something he said younger generations–like the Gen Zers, who’ve shown up at his book signings and talks–do with a fluency that his own generation hasn’t fully grasped.
In and Out of the Margins
I stood at the border, stood at the edge and claimed it as central. l claimed it as central, and let the rest of the world move over to where I was.–Toni Morrison
According to recent research, approximately 30% of Gen Z adults identify as queer and LBGTQ+ (HRC) and, as Birdsall adds, “generationally, there’s more nuance; it is not so narrowly defined as it once was–what queerness can be–as just gay or lesbian.” He offers this statistic while noting Toni Morrison’s famous quote upon winning the Nobel Prize for literature about being marginalized; it has become an anthem of sorts, a rally cry, for those otherwise othered and hidden in plain sight.
Author John Birdsall at Omnivore Books in San Francisco, June 22.
Celia Sack
When talking to Birdsall further about how he gathered stories for the book, he admits it was not easy given the amount many of the figures explored had to hide who they really were, therefore leaving very little evidence as to their private lives.
“For me, as a writer and historian, my practice has been using emotion to try to illuminate queer and trans histories that have been obscured,” Birdsall said in our recent interview, “We may have scraps of archival information, but there is so much to fill in,” he added.
Unfortunately, things like letters and cards or other memorabilia and souvenirs from meaningful relationships were simply too dangerous to keep for fear of damning consequences. Birdsall tells us that even what we know today of some of James Beard’s close connections, for example, are due to an assistant’s forethought (or nosiness). In some cases, notes were retrieved from a wastebasket for fear of them being lost forever. To people like Beard—who was so visible and in the public eye–it just wasn’t safe to keep anything around that would be considered sentimental.
Which made digging for the whisps of memory and experience surrounding the many figures Birdsall explores in the book, all the more impenetrable. He saw it, however, as both a challenge and opportunity. He took the bits and pieces discovered over the last decade and assembled them while further imagining the worlds the figures lived in, and, what those worlds and experiences tasted like, so to speak.
John Birdsall in conversation with food writer Eric Kim at P & T Knitwear in Manhattan, June 4.
Andrew Gibeley
Power of Emotion
Part of his solution was to lean on the emotions he knew must have accentuated real events. For example, Sunday women in apartments in NYC of the 1950s he learned would gather together to listen to Tallulah Bankhead who, as Birdsall described, “Had the power in her to control her own sexuality and still have a public voice and be a star.”
Although there’s no record that fully reveals what those gatherings encompassed, Birdsall helps readers wonder on the page about how food must have played a role amidst such powerful moments in time.
Friendsgiving, Anyone? Birdsall says, despite how ubiquitous this annual occasion has become, “Queer people know they really pioneered it. It is taken for granted that we choose our family–even if we cherish and celebrate with our blood families–there’s a culture of the chosen family that is really encapsulated there.” For many, at one time, this ‘holiday’ meant one safe haven when there was no other.
So, Birdsall investigates the lives of many in the book while filling in the scenes of places like New York City’s Café Nicholson with Edna Lewis; in San Francisco at the Paper Doll Club; in Los Angeles with Harry Baker as he created his bewitching Chiffon cake; or even at the author’s own childhood home where he became enthralled by a golden brioche on page 473 of the New York Times Cook Book. Readers journey through the stories on precipices of emotion the people covered quite likely endured. From deeply satisfying displays of creativity and community around food and taste they built, to perpetual moments of pain suffered under the cloaks of lies thrust upon them.
Next Chapter
This book, Birdsall believes, creates a starting point for more to come. It’s a green light to sound the alarm. It’s a marquee to celebrate the tales of the untold still sitting in boxes in the attic.
“I feel like my role has been to establish this history of the 20th century, then look to young, brilliant people to take it from there, to describe the diversity and complexity of what they are seeing,” Birdsall said. “There’s something bubbling in the culture, and a hunger to have this history illuminated. It is certainly an amazing development.”–John Birdsall
With such a revelatory foundation, Birdsall is passing a torch to the next generation to to keep every name in queer food present on our plates, on our restaurant signs, in our cookbooks, and out of the closet.
John Birdsall signing books at Platform by JBF in Manhattan, June 2.
Andrew Gibeley
“Food was a site for concealing the care we couldn’t show under the open sky in daylight; for displaying the bruises of our dislocation; for airing the silence we were forced to keep through times of loss, and the joy of finding love and connection. Food was the empty page onto which we wrote our stories, signed with our true names, in letters the haters could not or would almost never make out.”–What is Queer Food? by John Birdsall