Eats & Meets of NYC

An Immigrant Tale from chelsea market

The sticky, greasy, and slightly grimy floors of Chelsea Market usher me towards a new feeling. I sigh with contentment. Closing my eyes, I hear a groan, an orgasmic bliss. The chef brings out a tray of buttery, nutty loveliness, and I'm about to kiss the chef. Everything, the customers coming and going, the girl licking the plate, the audible gasps at the other table, what is it that I see in all of this…

Oops, it's just my stomach. I'm just hungry, but rightfully so. I remind myself that I'm here for a story. But maybe I'll give myself a break. Let my stomach decide. Where the hell is this scent coming from? After all, I can't share a good story unless I'm full.

I sniff to my right and realize that my photographer beat me to the punch. No wonder why he's in there already. I quickly glance at the vivid array of colors of the food on display. Red, cinnamon-brown, orange, the warm tones of this restaurant, Eat Offbeat, embrace my soul. It quickly lures me to my foodie, hungry, insatiable appetite. I realize that this little gem of a restaurant is something special.

Located in Chelsea Market, Eat Offbeat is one of the many restaurants that emphasize the city's melting pot. But Eat Offbeat takes this to the extreme. Eat Offbeat employs chefs from immigrant and refugee backgrounds, showcasing their hometown dishes with a New York flair. There are no borders in Eat Offbeat's kitchen. In a country with ever-growing anti-immigrant rhetoric, Eat Offbeat is the shining jewel of what Chelsea Market and New York embody: an avenue of exploration, culture, and acceptance.

I've traveled to New York three times in the past. But this time, at Eat Offbeat, New York tastes different. I quickly glance at the menu, trying to determine what I'll put on my dinner list. I'm now in a pickle: Eat Offbeat makes it hard to decide. Perhaps I'll just have it all —between Syrian Maamoul Cookies, Sri Lankan Snack Mix, Venezuelan Hot Cocoa Mix, and Mahmoud.

I ask the cashier for a recommendation, and the cashier delivers. I bite into the Syrian baklava that they have for sale. It's flaky and buttery, with five to six layers, just the way I like it. Sarujen could tell you from one look whether it's Turkish baklava (syrupy and sweet) or Syrian baklava. But the baklava I had that day was definitely Syrian, no doubt.

The Assyrians exclaim that the layering of unleavened bread has been in theirs since the 8th century B.C.E. The Turks say otherwise, suggesting that baklava comes from the Turkish word bakla, or "to package together." The Greeks say baklava comes from Greek placenta cake. Like a bunch of little kids at a fight, trying to get a piece of the pie, nobody knows who started it. But one thing is for sure: it's good.

I'm ready for the meat. I ask the cashier, "Where's the owner?" Do I need an article, or do I just need to tell him how buttered up he got me after that bite of baklava?

I'm lucky. The cashier points at Sarujen, the owner of Eat Offbeat, in the corner. He waves at me, seemingly extending an invitation for me to ask him all about his other yummy delicacies. "Looks like you ate that up!"

Sarujen speaks in a down-to-earth tone. The type of voice where you walk into someone's home, feeling the warm embrace of being an honored guest. He sees my oily hands, the aftermath of my baklava-feasting bloodbath. He hands me a paper napkin, grinning.

Sarujen grew up in Turkey, "a monolithic country." Culturally Turkish and Sri Lankan, he hails from Sri Lankan heritage but has never been to Sri Lanka. To him, Sri Lanka is the home he's always dreamed about but never experienced.

He talks about his mother, Shanthini, who is in the kitchen. Shanthini is just one of the double-digit refugee chefs who have worked for Eat Offbeat. I don't get a chance to try her food, but I get a sense of it by the delectable smell coming from the kitchen. Creamy and sweet, Katarica Curry is on the menu today: a crowd-pleaser of fried eggplant in a thick sauce with curry leaves, fenugreek, and tomato.

Chef Shanthini started this store with a bowl of Turkish hummus. Sarujen says, "Mom wasn't too happy with the hummus sold at the grocery store." It was interesting how, even in a city like New York, where all these cultures converge, she still couldn't find the hummus she dearly adored.

Eat Offbeat started in 2015. First, it was a catering company that delivered local, home-cooked hummus to Sri Lankan and Turkish immigrants and vendors. Slowly, Chef Shanthini's status as a formidable cook grew, winning the hearts of local immigrants who wanted an experience of home away from home.

Still, Sarujen and Chef Shantini wanted to explore and branch out into even more cultures. After all, "having a background of immigrants makes you successful. You rarely see restaurants showcase all these types of foods." And so, Sarujen brought in Chef Mariama.

Chef Mariama, a chef with a Guinean and Sierra Leonean background, comes from humble beginnings. Rooted in her devotion to cultural preservation, she joined Eat Offbeat to contribute to its mission of spreading the word of West African cuisine to the world.

Jollof rice, one of the dishes mastered by Chef Mariama on Eat Offbeat's menu, is a gravy West African dish that embodies the spirit of African gastronomy. With a perfect sauce-to-rice ratio, this staple combines tomatoes, onions, peppers, and a few herbs to pack a punch. As a huge cultural tradition, Chef Mariama was forced to cook this from a young age and was told by her mom her entire life to cook it. Each dish of jollof rice from Eat Offbeat's kitchen passes down her story, one grain at a time.

Sarujen maintains that he doesn't quite consider himself an ambassador of each cuisine but rather a facilitator of sorts. "Each chef has all their own cultures and their rules that they can't change." Perhaps that's why Sarujen created this store: to showcase all the rules that span across different cuisines and different homes. "It's all about that home feeling. It's not a dish that you're trained for. It's the first dish you'll ever cook."

If you ever exhaust yourself with the options on the current menu, "come back in a different season," Sarujen exclaims. At Eat Offbeat, dishes rotate based on the season and even during the holidays. Of course, Ramadan, Diwali, and other holidays are also on the menu.

Sarujen has hopes for the future, and ultimately, I realize that's what I'm here for: to hear about the hopes and dreams many immigrants come to America to fulfill. Sarujen then looks towards the back at the mural of a world map his local friend painted on the wall. He sees a franchise set up in all the countries on the map. "This store is really about New York because New York is about being diverse, and New York gave us this space to do this."

I relish the moment. I relish the opportunity Sarujen has given me to understand the goodness behind every ingredient in his mother's recipes. I relish the privilege of taking time off of school to come to New York and satisfy my baklava cravings: I didn't even need to travel halfway across the world to get it. Of course, there are many things to consider: in recent years, countries worldwide have encountered civil unrest, skyrocketing inflation of goods, and straight-out war. Some people unfairly associate Turkey, Sierra Leone, and Syria as places of civil unrest, hunger, and even straight-up death and destruction, but I no longer do so. Why? I want you to slow down before you bite into that meal and think about what you're truly getting yourself into. Every flake, every layer, every crumb of the baklava I had that day uncovered a dark, devastating reality of the difficulties that many of the chefs at Eat Offbeat faced at some point in their lives. Every dish prepared at Eat Offbeat is a glimpse into the chef's journey, what they endured, and how they built their new lives in New York City. At Eat Offbeat, Chef Mariama and Chef Shantini are no longer refugees–they are now talented contributors with experiences, cultures, and a tangible connection to their homeland to share.

I bite into the baklava one more time, finishing it up. A new flavor seeps in, and I think it tastes better this time. It's honestly a miracle that baklava lived to tell its tale. I'm telling you, food in Eat Offbeat tells history better than my AP World History textbook does. Cravings are meant to be satisfied, but the history of our food is intended to be learned and understood. Every dish at Eat Offbeat encourages a broader understanding of the simple yet fantastic act of food indulgence, or rather, the unfortunate inability to do so. Every dish on the menu is a relic of the past of every chef. Only after we understand these intricacies of how people worldwide cook and eat will we know that the stories of refugees' present and future will be told by the recipes they share.

baklava reoccuring motif, full circle, really like hummus, weave personal and work life, focus more on the subject topic to make it less first person, focusing on sarujen’s journey, thinking about the structure/flow of the piece/chronologically, talk more about cultural backgrounds of the foods, specify chelsea market, food related puns/jokes, adding more imagery of foods, grounding of NYC and how NYC allows for multicultural perspectives, vibe of the restaurant, clientele, adding more cultural background, show not tell (leading with sounds), sensory details, throw back to the baklava understanding cultural differences/not a monolith, how history enhances your eating experience

Words: Ethan Ye

Photos: Luke Jensen, Montserrat Urbina, Waverly Choy

Design: Ashley Peng