The Moth - Restaurant Week: The Moth Podcast

Episode Date: January 23, 2026

It’s restaurant week here in NYC, and so we're celebrating the neighborhood spots that feel almost like home and all the hard-working chefs and servers who make a space come alive. This episode was hosted by Chloe Salmon. Trevor Craig finds his chosen family at a steakhouse in Iowa. Shaw-naé builds community through her restaurant. To learn more about listener data and our privacy practices visit: https://www.audacyinc.com/privacy-policy Learn more about your ad choices. Visit https://podcastchoices.com/adchoices

Welcome to The Moth. I'm Chloe Salmon. It's Restaurant Week here in New York City, and that's got us reflecting on dining out, a true forte of mine. I'm thinking about all of the incredible meals I've shared with family and friends, about the neighborhood spots that feel almost like home, and about all the hardworking chefs and servers who make a space come alive. It takes a lot to make a restaurant run. So to honor the hustle, we've got two stories for you from behind the scenes and inside the kitchen. Our first one is from Trevor Craig, who told this at a Pittsburgh story slam where the theme was bold.

Here's Trevor, live with them off. The sophomore year between my sophomore and junior year of college, I told my parents I had a job in Des Moines, Iowa, and I wasn't going to stay home. I lied. There was anything I could do to not live at home with my non-drinking Mormon parents when I was secretly gay, except for it wasn't so secret. I moved to Iowa and I stayed with a friend and I stayed on her couch, even though she promised me a bed. I stayed on the couch, no air conditioning because I could not live at home. And I talked her into getting me a job at a restaurant. This restaurant was one of those Japanese-style restaurants where they cook in front of you.

There was zero Japanese people who worked there. There was also zero gay people who worked there. So my first day coming in, I was told I'd be a serve. because I wanted that money. But what I ended up doing is working in the cash office because I looked trustworthy and I could count past 10 and give change. So that service office had a little window

and I looked out through that window, but if you stood a little bit to the side, I couldn't see you. And the girl who was training me, we'll call her Sarah, was way more confident about my gayness than I was. And she would see guys standing and looking at me and she'd yell out,

Scotty, do you have a problem? Do you want to say something? As much as you're staring at him, I think you have a crush. And I was terrified because I did not want to get hate crimes in Iowa. Eventually, I got just as strong about it as she did and would yell at people just as much as she would and had nothing to do with any of their nonsense. And that eventually moved me into being a server. The whole restaurant was run by a general manager. his name was Marco, and when I look back on it, I think of him kind of like hyperbole.

He was 6'7 and 500 pounds in all muscle. Really, he was like 6'3, kind of chubby, but it was a really nice guy, and he was fine with me being out there, and he didn't care that I was gay. But the rest of the restaurant did. In the kitchen, we would have all kinds of issues where they would call people gay for doing something wrong. they would drop the F word all the time, and I would meekly kind of head out of the room and not say anything.

One day I was back there with my friend who worked there, and she turned and said, you can't say that. That's not okay. How would you like it if he said, that's so white, or that's so Puerto Rican? They would hate it. And so they slowly but surely stopped using that word. And I slowly but surely started screaming every time they said it.

I got violent about it. I would throw things, throw a fit, and do everything else to get the word. attention I needed for them to stop doing it. About two years into working there, people were starting to get on my side. They realized I was a lot of fun, and they realized that a lot of gay people go out to eat. And if you put a gay guy with a gay group of people, I can make some serious money. And I'm pretty damn adorable, so if you put me with a bachelorette party, they also want to tip me a lot, and they will take a ton of sake bombs if I tell them to.

So they started using my gayness as an advantage for the company, and I started getting very strategically put with tables, and I would very strategically walk out with $300 or $400 in tips every night. I was making some serious cash. But it came with some drawbacks. Of course, I overserved people, so I would get in trouble for that. I had a fight with people who were a little bit slow. I had one of the chefs who would get really aggressive with me because one night he said I was walking to tables with limp wrists. And I said, yeah, you're right. Accurate. And he eventually got over it, and I made him practice his limp wrist. I was one of the first states to legalize gay marriage, and I was in school

right now, and so I had a lot of free time to go to a lot of protests and a lot of things at the courthouse. So there's a lot of pictures of me when they legalized gay marriage with signs, with all my friends, and it went all over newspapers. It was all over my university's website, and it was all over my Facebook. One of the first things I put on my Facebook is gay marriage is legal in Iowa, currently taking applications. The next Saturday, when I got to work,

all the chefs had filled out applications for me. And it was really, really sweet. And slowly but surely, all of the chefs became kind of allies. And this is a bunch of guys who, again, not ate. working at a Japanese steakhouse. I was very questionable. A lot of them had some history, but they were all kind of on my side now.

And they always stood up for me, and they were always really excited when they saw a bunch of gay guys come in, and I was on their table, because they knew they were getting tipped pretty well, too. So it became this big thing where everyone really liked working with me, and eventually I snuck in my family, so there was another gay guy that I got to get a job there.

There was a couple other people. One night, we got another table, and it was half gay, people and half not gay people and I was getting really long well with some people and the other side wasn't so happy for me and at the end of the night when I bring you receipts it's the worst part of my job because I talking to spending a lot of money everyone paid except for one guy who was really upset with me and I took all the receipts up there and he came to speak to me at the cash office and he said I know your faggy friends are out there but you can't do this to me and I was like

oh I'm sorry what he's like you overcharged me I I was like, oh, let me get that fixed for you. And then he grabbed me by my arm, and he said, no, this isn't right. You're going to give it to me for free. And I said, no, I'm not. And he kind of shook me. And I don't know what happened next, but I remember Marco grabbing this guy by his collar and shoving up against a wall and walking him out the building.

And it was a big thing for me. Two years later, thank you. Ohana walked with me to Pride. They went with me on my 21st birthday to the gay bar. And when I moved, I don't make a lot of time to go back to Iowa, but I haven't paid for a meal since. And the restaurant there, I won't say, but when you translate it, it means family. And that's always been my family, and it's changed me a lot. That was Trevor Craig.

Trevor no longer works in restaurants. He's now regional director of operations for one of the largest independent lab companies in the world, testing food for nutrition and safety. He's still a foodie and hosts pride parties every year in Denver. downtown Pittsburgh, where he and his chosen family cheer on the parade. Up next, a story of a restaurant built upon a very special legacy. Back in a moment. Adobe Acrobat Studio, your new foundation. Use PDF spaces to generate a presentation. Grab your docks, your permits, your moves, AI levels of your pitch, gets it in a groove.

Choose a template with your timeless cool. Next those two. Draft design, deliver, make it sing. AI builds the So you can build that thing, Acrobat. Learn more at adobe.com slash do that with Acrobat. Welcome back. Our next story was told at a New York City main stage where the theme was only in New York. In the show, we heard stories from each of the five boroughs of the city.

Shawnee took the stage to Rep Staten Island, the place she grew up, and where she can trace her roots back generations to a very special community called Sandy Ground. It's one of the oldest, if not the oldest, continuous free black communities in the United States. As you'll hear in just a moment. Here she is, live at the mom. I want to take you back to June 5th, 2021.

I'm standing in front of this building, and as I'm staring at this building that I just painted red, because I seek attention. I am looking at a $22,000 life after death DIY renovation that I had done, and at this point, I want to do a DIE. I said, just kill the whole dream. I don't know why I'm standing here doing this, but I'm getting ready to have a grand opening. I'm getting ready to do a grand opening for restaurants,

a soul food restaurant at that, on the toughest block in Staten Island, in Stapleton, where the cars are driving by so fast, and there's only three other stores, what the hell did I just do? As I'm standing there looking at the building with the big balloon arch over the door, and I just roped every single family member that I possibly could into taking orders from me, and putting this grill on and getting the DJ ready and making sure that my tiny little sole food exclusive boutique owned by a family and owned and operated by just us

was going to go well. I wasn't sure if it was going to work, but I did honestly believe that I knew how to throw a party. So if the restaurant didn't work, I knew the grand opening would be fine because I just stuck my foot in my mouth by clicking on the button on my Facebook and inviting 4,000 people that I don't know. I was sure that nobody was really going to attend

because it was June 5th, 2021, spring into summer. That was the pandemic. I stood out front and I tried to get some ease about it as people started to gather around and it was like 10 people, showed up and then it was 20 people showing up and then it was 40 people showing up and then it was I should have got a permit because there were 400. This whole grand opening was a success. And so I just knew that the 400 people that showed up for this grand opening would be my regulars that would keep my lights on. Everybody was going to come back the next day and buy food. And so I was excited

about going into the restaurant the next day in cooking and having my kids there because these people just left and they spent time with me and saw me at this grand opening. I had my kids sitting at the kids table and that was the table closest to the kitchen where they critiqued my recipes while we did homework. I had no clue that this restaurant was really, I was in the belly of the beast at this point. What should I do to try to get people to come into the restaurant? Because one day had passed and nobody showed up. Two days had passed.

Nobody still showed up. And that became an entire year. I needed to get creative. And I'm extremely creative when it comes to, like I said, planning a party. So I went out into the community and I started telling people, I opened up a restaurant. Do you want to come hang out with me? I'm giving out free food.

Nobody wanted free food. And even though I sat in front and put benches and plants and I taught people medicinal properties of parsley, nobody really cared. This little white lady Grace would pass by with her little cart and she'd stare at me and she'd look and with pity in her eyes, she'd hand me $5 and say, baby girl, just hold on.

I felt like it was ministry. I said, I have to figure this out. So I started letting people do all kinds of crazy things in the restaurant just to keep the lights on. I did paint and sips. I had book readings. And I even let Method Man shoot a music video in there. That began to get a little bit daunting. I couldn't plan enough parties.

And so a year and a half had gone by and I still wasn't really selling any food. Someone comes into the restaurant and they said, hey, we want to. film you while you're bringing food out to the table. And I said, I don't really know if I want to do that because there's nobody here. They said, no, it'll be fine. We'll just put the word out and we'll get people to come and, you know, we'll bring community together. And I said, oh, I'm not sure if I'm comfortable with that. They came and they did it anyway. And sure enough, it shows up and it's on TikTok. I don't know what TikTok is. And then I started showing up into these Facebook groups where those 4,000 people were.

The people started to talk. And sure enough, as they were talking, people started to also come into the restaurant. The community wasn't really tied together because we're kind of like separated by shores, north and south shore. And so when I say the South Shore that way, I'm pretty sure you kind of understand

where I'm going with all of this. I planted a sole food restaurant in the middle of a sea of pasta, meatballs, and pizza. The South Shore showed up and they came in in droves, and they supported and they told me how much they loved me, and I hugged and kissed them, and then they started to ask me lots of questions.

Well, why did you open this restaurant up? And why over here? I said, well, I'm the eighth generation direct descendant to the first free black man to purchase property on Staten Island and Sandy Ground. I figure I owe my ancestors something, so I need to be doing something here on Staten Island. And they were excited about that.

And that became a part of my marketing strategy because people's faces and mouths would start to drop every time I said it. We'd hug, we'd kiss, we'd break bread, we'd enjoy each other, and then there was chatter all over Facebook. There's this girl, she's in the restaurant, she shows up, she comes out, she kisses you, she hugs, she tells you she loves you. My 20-seat, Seoul Food Boutique was staying a little bit full, and my Google reviews on Google were showing that something was happening on Staten Island.

It was nothing like my bank account where the numbers were going kind of up and but the dash and the front sort of kind of like my name was like over there. Two and a half year mark and a gentleman walks in and we sit him at the kids table. At this point the kid's table is operating like the chef's table. And the guy and the two other people are sitting at the table and it's about 9.30 at night and they start to ask me all kinds of questions like, what do you have on the menu? Can I get oxtail? Do you have ribs? Is there jerk chicken left? And I would say, nope, nope, and I don't have that either. I said, what I do got is I got scraps because you came here kind of late. And you wouldn't do this to your grandmother asking her 10 o'clock for anything exquisite. So don't ask me. I should just give you a peanut butter and jelly sandwich.

But if you trust me, I'm going to bring you out a spread that's going to still blow your mind. Do you trust me? He said, sure, no problem. You're the chef. right? I said, yeah, I'm the chef. So I go back, I get the food, I bring it out. He sits down and he sees it and he says, oh my God, this is the scraps. But he said, what do I got to do to get the whole menu? I said, well, you got to get here at 5 o'clock. Like I said, you don't go to your grandmother's house, 10 o'clock. Get here at 5 and get everything on the menu. Two weeks later, he shows up, comes at 5 o'clock and took my advice. I knew who he was exactly when he walked in the door. hugged him. Hey, cousin, you made it. I love you. He said, yeah, I made it. I'm here at 5 o'clock.

I said, well, I'm so glad that you made it. I hope that you really enjoy yourself. A couple weeks later, I get a phone call from my nephew's son. He said, somebody just called and said that they wanted you to call them from the paper. I said, okay, well, what do they want? He says, I don't know. They call from the New York Times. They want to talk to you. I said, I don't want to subscribe to the New York Times. I don't have $4.40. He said, well, I think that you should try to call him and tell him you don't want to subscribe. I said, okay, give me the number.

I give the guy the number, take the number and I call. I said, hey, I'm calling because I didn't know that you guys made cold calls for the subscriptions for the New York Times, but I don't want to subscribe. He starts laughing, and then I kind of like, I'm listening to him. He says, I didn't call to get. you to subscribe to the New York Times. And as I'm listening to his voice, I'm kind of recognizing.

I said, wait a minute. Did you come and sit at table three, at the kids' table? And then you sat at table two? He said, yeah, that's incredible. How did you do that? I said, don't you recognize every voice of a person that comes into your house? He said, yeah. He said, that's exactly why I want to write an incredible story on you for the New York Times. I said, like the bear? I didn't know it was real. He said, no, it is real. I'm going to write a story and I don't write bad stories. I write good stories. So when I write this story, it's going to change your life drastically. Are you ready? I said, yeah, he does an interview. He starts asking me questions. And he says, well, where are you from? I said I'm from Staten Island, but I'm an eighth generation direct descendant from Sandy Ground.

He said, funny you say that. 30 years ago, I used to hang out in the Sandy Ground burial grounds. You were a kid then. I said, wow, he said, yeah, this is like a full circle moment for the both of us. I said, yeah, I guess it is. I guess I kind of like did what my ancestors wanted me to do. I got the only two stars that the entire. Staten Island has ever seen in any restaurant in history.

And so the proudest moment was that I got the opportunity to show my ancestors that I, too, was the first one. That was Shawnee. She's a Staten Island native with a rich and deep connection to her roots as an eighth-generation descendant of historic Sandy Ground. She's also the gifted founder and owner of the award-winning soul food restaurant, Shawnee's house. And that guy who showed up from the New York Times?

He was none other than Pete Wells, the longtime restaurant critic for the publication. If you heard that story and thought to yourself, oh my gosh, I need to visit Shaunae's restaurant, I can tell you that you are correct. I was lucky enough to eat there a couple of weeks after she took them off stage, and it was a truly delicious meal. You can tell she puts her heart and soul into the spot. Cheney was kind enough to sit down with me over Zoom, through battling a cold even, to chat about her story, her restaurant, and her community. I feel like I learned so much about Staten Island history,

working with you on this story, specifically about Sandy Ground. And so I wanted to hear from you a little bit more. How do you feel like your family history impacted what you're doing at Shawnee's house? I feel like the restaurant would not have... achieved as much success if I didn't mention my family history. It didn't dawn on me that the restaurant's foundation would come from me learning the importance of telling the story of what my lineages and what their legacies were.

I knew that the tie was going to be me making sure that I always repeat the family history and my relation to Staten Island and my relation to Sandy Ground. Because honestly, no one knew. And now people that live in the five boroughs, you know, the other four boroughs that have never been to Staten Island are now like, oh, snap, like, you mean to tell me I'm a whole, and you know they got these labels. I'm a whole native New Yorker. I'm a New Yorker or I'm a transplant, but I've been here for so long.

And I didn't know that that kind of foundational American black history exists on Staten Island. Awesome. So do you feel like now, you know, you own this beautiful, wonderful restaurant, you're such a creative, talented, amazing chef. And you're a moth storyteller. Do you feel like there are any links between telling a story and making a meal? And do you think you tell stories through your food? absolutely i honestly believe that when i'm preparing the dish there's always a story attached and that's another reason why it's like important to make sure that i elevate soul food because soul food for me

is not about the fried chicken the mac and cheese and the collard greens it's really about the experiences that are tied to the recipes the storyteller that i am says when you truly believe that you are assigned to a task in order to inspire and empower people you have a have a much greater responsibility to the world and to yourself to make sure that you keep it cool and that you trust that it's always going to work out regardless of what the challenges or the obstacles are going to be. And as long as you can tell that story to people transparently, truthfully, and then with a little bit of fun, people start to realize that like, shit ain't so bad out here in the world. Your main responsibility in telling stories is to inspire

and empower people to push past differences, challenges, trials. And so I believe that when I get in the kitchen, no matter what my day is, no matter what the situation is, a story is being tied to it. There's so much importance to tell them the story. And I believe that my business rides on that every single day. Okay. Right now, as the menu stands today, what dish would you recommend somebody get at Shaunae's house if it's their first time coming?

get the shoe-shoo platter. I just put the shoe-shoe platter on the menu for 2026. The shush-shu-platter is a little bit of everything from out of the kitchen. So you'll get, let's look at it. Catfish, shrimp, whiting, jerk chicken, oxtail, five chicken wings, any flavor that you want. I definitely suggest a sugar daddy wing because it's chicken and waffle without the waffling. And ain't nobody in the world doing it like that. It's so good.

It's crazy. Two ribs, and then you pick your sides. You can pick any sides, but you cannot leave up out of Shawnee's house without trying that macaroni and cheese because it's better than your mother's, your grandmoms, your aunts. I don't care who you put out there in the world, but it's not better than mine. I would definitely say that you need to try the shoe shoe platter because it's me giving you an opportunity to try just about everything in the kitchen. I love that. You've heard it here first, folks. Go to Shaunae's house.

Go to Staten Island. Learn a little history. Get a hug for Chene. Have the shoo-shoe platter. And have the best night of your life, actually. Absolutely. Gosh, that food is so good. My goodness.

I love what I do. That brings us to the end of our episode. Thank you to our storytellers for sharing with us and to you for listening. And, of course, thank you to all of the people who keep our favorite restaurants running. They're the true MVP's. Maybe tell them so. the next time you eat out. And from all of us here at the moth,

we hope your next meal is something special. Chloe Salmon is a director at the moth. Her favorite moth moments come on show days when the cardio is done, the house lights go down, and the magic settles in. Chene's story was directed by Chloe Salmon. This episode of the Moth podcast

was produced by Sarah Austin-Jeness, Sarah Jane Johnson, and me, Mark Salinger. The rest of the Moss leadership team includes Sarah Haberman, Christina Norman, Marina Clucay, Jennifer Hickson, Jordan Cardinali, Caledonia Cairns, Suzanne Rust, and Patricia Orenia. The Moth podcast is presented by Odyssey. Special thanks to their executive producer, Leah Reese Dennis. All Moth stories are true, as remembered by their storytellers. For more about our podcast, information on pitching your own story and everything else, go to our website, the moth.org. Ever listen to The Moth and thought, I have a story to tell.

We'd love to hear it. The Moth pitch line is your chance to share a two-minute pitch of your true personal story. Record it right on our site at the Moth.org or call 877-799 Moth. That's 877-999-6684. Here's the thing. We listen to every single pitch. Your story could end up on our podcast, our stage, or inspiring someone who needs to hear it. Share your story at the moth.org or call 877-799 moth.

Everyone has a story worth telling. Tell us yours.