Establishing Rapport at El Rinconcito

Posted on by

My partner Rachael Horn and I, Mark Paternostro, will be conducting research on three restaurants in the Mid City neighborhood of New Orleans. All three of our restaurants are located on N. Carrollton Ave. between Bienville Ave. and Toulouse St. (refer to the map on the left or here for a larger view).

We chose to carry out research and conduct interviews with three (extra credit, Dr. Beriss?) very different restaurants that happen to be either next to or across the street from one another: a restaurant cluster within a restaurant row, if you will. They are El Rinconcito (218 N. Carrollton), WOW Café and Wingery (231 N. Carrolton #C) and KJeans (236 North Carrollton).

One of the goals of the Restaurant Row Recovery Project (RRRP) is to understand why there are so many restaurants clustered together in this one area. In class, we also noted that, within the Restaurant Row, all of these restaurants collectively seem to be serving a continuum of cuisines that would make the United Nations proud.

On the Row, one can dine at New Orleans’ institutions like Mandina’s, Venezia’s, and Angelo Brocato’s or mix it up at fusion restaurants like Café Minh or Canal St. Bistro or try out some of the newcomers like Yummy Yummy and El Rinconcito (neither of these have websites, sorry bloggers!).

We hope to find through our research if the sheer volume and variety of restaurants on the Row are representative of those who live in the surrounding neighborhood and/or of any demographic changes in the city as a whole.

By researching the history of the area and conducting interviews with the owners of these restaurants, we hope to find out what role they play to the surrounding community and New Orleans as a whole. We also hope to find out in what direction this already dynamic neighborhood is headed with regards to the near-future construction of both the Mid-City Market and the Lafitte Corridor.

February 15, 2012 – Establishing Rapport at El Rinconcito

Rachael and I, Mark, had made plans a couple of days prior to have lunch at El Rinconcito. I arrived first and, in some ways, this was probably for the better because our server, Rosalba, did not speak English and I was able to use my intermediate Spanish to order my food and later ask a few questions.

At first, I just took in the atmosphere of the place itself. There is a sign that lets customers know that to get into the restaurant area it is easier for one to enter in on the side of the building and that’s just what I did. When I entered, a group of Latino men were playing pool to the right of me and there was a very large dining area that was on the left. One of the men that was sitting down handed me a menu and I decided to seat myself.

A few moments later, Rosalba came to ask me what I would like to drink. I asked for horchata but it was not ready so I took a Coke instead. She gave me time to look over the menu and it was during that time I took in some of the material culture found around the restaurant. There were sombreros hanging from a large pillar in the dining area, an outstretched flag that said “Colombia” above the bathrooms, and a few Mardi Gras decorations to be found hanging from the walls and fans. The menu was also a mixture of different types of Latin American foods. The whole menu was in Spanish and I saw everything from huevos rancheros to enchiladas to quesadillas to carne asada and then some.

I decided to go with the Carne Asada (literally translated as “grilled steak”) which also included corn tortillas, lettuce, tomato, queso blanco (I don’t want to call it cheese because that word conjures up a particular image to most Americans. It is literally translated as “white cheese” but its texture and taste are much different than say Cheddar or American. I think it is made from goat milk.), beans, and rice (I list them separately because they were separate from one another unlike the local variety of “red beans and rice”. They also had a much different texture and taste than that New Orleans’ favorite.)

Throughout the meal I had asked a couple of questions of Rosalba. I mentioned to her that I’m a student who is interested in El Rinconcito and the surrounding restaurants and neighborhood. She told me she was new to the restaurant and was from Honduras. She also told me that many of the clients were from many different Latin American countries. I wanted to know if there was someone I could talk to about the history of El Rinconcito in English. She said yes and, later, this became helpful.

As I was thoroughly enjoying a meal that was larger than I had imagined, Rachael and her boyfriend came in to join me on the dining experience. One of the men opened the door for them and they came and sat down next to me. I had told Rosalba that I had two friends on their way earlier and soon enough she came by to get their orders.

Rachael mentioned to me that she liked the relaxed almost homely atmosphere of the place. I wholeheartedly agreed with her. There is something about the light pastel colored walls in each of the dining rooms, our friendly server, the Spanish music coming from the bar, and the group of Latino men playing pool and drinking that seemed to separate us from the busy traffic found right outside the front of the building. After Rachael’s observation, I began to appreciate the fact that the dining area was located in the back and lent itself to this homely environment.

While Rachael and Mac were working on their meals, another lady approached us. She began to ask us in English if we had any questions about the meal or service. I told her that we were students who were researching the restaurants in this area including El Rinconcito. She was very kind and helpful. She told us she would give us the boss’s number and that he would most likely be happy to give us an interview.

After we had finished our meals, Rosalba came back and handed us an El Rinconcito keychain. The keychain has two numbers: one to reach the owner and another for the restaurant. It also says this about El Rinconcito: “No somos los mejores del mundo pero si los mejores del rumbo”.

Before we paid, I had to ask Rosalba one more question. I had no idea what the word “rumbo” meant so I asked Rosalba. She mentioned it’s a Latin American word that is hard to translate to English. I asked her if it meant like the aesthetics of the place or a certain feeling of a place and she said she yes.

Later, we decided to look up the word for ourselves. “Rumbo” actually has many different meanings, but I think the best loose translation would be this: “We’re not the best in the world, but we are the life of the party.”

More to come on WOW Cafe and Wingery and Kjeans… until next time!

Blogosphere Realizations of a Noobie Blogger

Posted on by

As some of you already know, an on-site (and online) exhibit at the Southern Food and Beverage Museum is going to accompany our Restaurant Row Recovery Project. We are working on the possibility of publications in scholarly journals as well. All of this seemed relatively standard for this type of project, but as to how blogging fit into this, I was clueless.

Rising Tide NOLA 5 New Media Conference Poster. Graphic Art by Greg Peters of Suspect Device (click the photo for a link to more of Greg's work)

On August 28th I discovered that we had at our disposal an entirely new media format for our project to tap into: blogging. I know this sounds odd since we have been blogging about our project for weeks now, but I never really understood the potential of such an avenue until I attended the 5th annual Rising Tide NOLA New Media Conference. Until that rainy Saturday I thought of our blog as simply a method of providing some chronological feedback on our progress, and as a possible source of topics for further exploration.

Prior to this project I was not a blogger. Until this conference I never truly understood the power, and access, blogging could provide. The new media conference (subtitled A Conference on the Future of New Orleans) changed that.

What I am somewhat familiar with is the jambalaya of emotions that go along with doing field work in New Orleans. Self doubt gets sautéed with shyness and preemptive humiliation to create the perfect discomfort food, and I had a feast before me. What did come as a surprise were the jitters I had about making our project public. The bloggers I met at the conference seemed immune to such thing. In fact, they actively strive to be public.

At this point in my life all of the conclusions and analysis of my previous work remained in a closed academic system, thus lessening potential shortfall fears. The final outcome resulted in grades in a grade book, some brief experiences and encounters with the public, and a new semester of classes. In other words, no harm, no foul. But this project is different; this project is not just for a grade. This project is for adding to the knowledge base of Anthropology, for shedding more light on the role restaurants play in New Orleans culture, and for contributing to the understanding of a New Orleans post Katrina neighborhood recovery. All of this sounds fantastic on paper (and in theory), but how can it become practical? How do we add our findings to the elusive knowledge base? How does our research, and academic fantasizing, make the way from bits of collected data to printed literature and disciplinary journals to public knowledge and discourse?

The bloggers and conference attendees– active and aware citizens – are providing us an alternative answer: new media. Part of the same media some the restaurants on our Row use to tell their own stories (a topic covered on this blog by David Beriss). Key note speaker Mac McClelland of MotherJones.com and author of For Us, Surrender Is Out Of The Question: A Story From Burma’s Never-Ending War, went so far as to say that the rise of “citizen journalist” was evidence that new media was a forerunner to pushing for cultural change and cultural awareness. I came away from this event in agreement.

Keynote spearker Mac McClelland. Photo by Bart "Editor B" Everson of b. rox (click the photo for a link to more of Editor B's work)

McClelland also spoke against the recent government, and BP, reports on the amount of oil still present in the Gulf. She argued the oil is not gone and that the seafood and restaurant industry are going to be reeling from this for a long time, a sentiment echoed by two of the restaurant owners I have interviewed. McClelland praised the blogging community of New Orleans for its dedication and passion for the city. The New Orleans blogosphere (and now us, the RRR team, to a lesser extent) are creating transparency and focus to a city in recovery.

Taking this one step further it is now apparent to me that new media can be tremendously useful for future academic recovery projects like this one. Gone are the days of the lonely anthropologist heading off to some far away exotic locale with a notebook and pencil. Technological advances like new media allow us to not only document our ongoing work, but also to achieve a level of transparency previously unattainable. Analysis and conclusions can be viewed as a process instead of an event. Consultation can come from a variety of far away sources, and perhaps most importantly, our study subjects can be involved like never before.

New media is a powerful tool. I am honored to have been invited to the conference, and am inspired to further utilize this avenue for my future anthropological and social justice work. I would like to say thank you to all those who continue to provide the community with an alternative voice.

Telling Their Own Story

Posted on by

I will start with the obvious: chefs and restaurants are trendy.  Above all, chefs in fancy white tablecloth restaurants have become important players in the making of the symbolic economy (that is the one in which you buy things—a sports car, a zucchini, a house, shoes—because it means something to you, not just because you need it).  Eating in their restaurants, reading and watching their interviews and TV shows and buying their cookbooks and other products are all part of the process by which we consumers make ourselves into the kind of people we think we want to be.  Through all of the media they create, these restaurateurs tell their own stories and make themselves into who we think they are…and help give meaning to our own dining and cooking experiences.

The process through which some of the more savvy chefs define themselves is fascinating to watch.  One of the difficulties faced by social scientists who want to study restaurateurs is precisely that they are great at telling their own stories.  They are good at connecting with the desires and ideas that permeate our societies.  The stories of chefs’ lives, of the highs and lows of kitchen life, of the creative process in the restaurant, of difficult customers or unusual settings to prepare a meal all help create a kind of template that the rest of us can use to frame our lives, culinary or otherwise.

There are no famous chefs or media stars in our Mid-City restaurant cluster.  But there are stories to tell, as we have already documented here.  Perhaps more importantly, the restaurateurs are, in many cases, already telling their own stories.  They use web pages and social media, along with more traditional media, to create this narrative.  Restaurants like Mandina’s and Brocato‘s have quite elaborate web sites, outlining their histories, including pre and post Katrina events, details about rebuilding and links to outside writing or video about them.  Of course, they also include menus, addresses and hours as well as contact information.  Not all the neighborhood restaurants have web sites (we list those that do on the right side of the blog) and not all of them have extensive information.  Some of the restaurants also have Facebook pages and some may also use other social media as well.  I am linked to several of them in this way and mostly get regular—and mouthwatering—reports of daily specials.

Still, the media are there and the restaurants are beginning to employ them to do more than simply announce specials.  They are using them to tell their stories and thus shape the way we think about them.  This is rapidly becoming an important part of how we can think about forces shaping the neighborhood and city.  The manner in which the restaurant owners represent themselves through their web sites and social media shapes our knowledge about them and will eventually help contour our understanding of the neighborhood beyond their doors.  All of this raises a lot of questions: why do some restaurants pursue this while others do not?  (In our study, restaurants catering to recent immigrant populations seem less likely to have extensive web sites, for example.)  Who reads the sites and what do they take away from that?  As restaurants reach out in this way, are they fundamentally changing the dining experience?

The fact that the people we are studying are telling their own stories through these public representations raises another set of issues as well.  What kinds of insights do anthropologists (or other social scientists) have that might be different from or complementary to information presented by the restaurants themselves?  If we are going to make our work useful, we have to be able to put the restaurant stories into a broader context.  We have to show how the restaurants in our cluster fit into and shape the contours of the city’s broader culture and history.  As the summer winds down and we start to look closely at our data, we will be concentrating on this.  The restaurateurs continue to tell us their stories, both directly and through their public representations.  Our job is to put this together and see if something emerges that gives us new ideas about restaurant clusters, neighborhoods, Mid-City and New Orleans.  Stay tuned!