94 OCTOBER 2020
TO RECEIVE AN INVITATION TO DINE at the home of Alexander
Smalls, entrepreneur, chef, author, and longtime Harlemite,
is to make whatever schedule adjustments necessary to be in
attendance, and not solely because the food is sure to soothe and
inspire, nor solely because his panache for anecdotes induces
giggles and hollers the neighbors can hear. His guests say yes
because, in a way, they must. They need to. “I grew up in a
household full of love and attention. I was the only grandson,
the only nephew. I was the man of the hour—as a child I was
very much indulged,” Smalls says. He knows what it is to lavish
attention, to make a guest feel enthralled and at ease. In the
sprawling domain of his second-floor apartment bedecked
with tapestries and art collections rivaling the floor-to-ceiling
galleries at Dooky Chase’s Restaurant in New Orleans, Smalls
is ambassador. And everyone knows (don’t they?) that it’s
impossible to say no to a charming diplomat.
Over a career in food surpassing 25 years, Smalls has garnered
accolades and a loyal following for his genre-defining (and
-defying) restaurants and cookbooks. His presence feels
inherently familiar these days—the striking white beard, the
observant gaze through wire spectacles, a laugh that explodes
up and outward. But when Cafe Beulah opened in New York in
1994, he was new perhaps to the scene but not to the Southern
cooking tradition. The New York Times heralded his celebration
of low-country cuisine, shaped by both his Spartanburg, South
Carolina, childhood and his experiences as a globe-trotting
baritone opera singer, as part of a “new wave” of soul food
cooking. The acclaim over his last restaurant,
The Cecil at Minton’s Playhouse in Harlem,
was robust, too. The menu, with its kelewele,
feijoada, and oxtail dumplings, merged the
diverse African diaspora including Ghana,
China, and the Caribbean with its rich Indian
influences. Esquire named it their best new
restaurant in 2014.
Smalls’ cookbooks, including this year’s cel-
ebrated Meals, Music, and Muses: Recipes from
My African American Kitchen, are jubilant
meditations that frame recipes by song genre.
In Meals, Smalls describes the blend of music
and food that guides Black Southern vernacular.“I grew up in a
household full of
love and attention.
I was the only
grandson, the only
nephew,” Smalls
says. He knows what
it is to lavish atten-
tion, to make a
guest feel enthralled
and at ease.Many Black American musicians take food as inspiration,
and the reverse is true of such chefs, in part because both arenas
can tell textured stories of one’s people, calling forth a kind of
self-recognition and community love song. Hear “Mother Pop-
corn” by James Brown, and feel the heat of bursting kernels, or
“Watermelon Man” by Herbie Hancock, the oft-reinterpreted
jazz standard that canonically conveys the lilt and lope of the
fruit seller’s cart. Meals moves from jazz to opera in stories told
by an artist eager to find new pockets of inquiry emerging from a
life enriched by travel and soundtrack. (Smalls shared his favor-
ite tunes to cook and dine to; see “Dinner Party Playlist,” p. 99.)
Jazz pianist Jason Moran resides in Harlem with his family. He
and his wife, vocalist Alicia Hall Moran, are frequent invitees to
Smalls’ home, and Moran intimately understands that visceral
connection. “The food has a big impact on how we find colors,”
Moran says of the music. “Duke Ellington can find those colors
because he’s from the Northeast, Louis Armstrong because he’s
from NOLA. It’s impossible to separate our food from our music.”
Who wouldn’t come to dinner? Smalls has been a magnetic
host from his earliest days in the business. He has socialized
in one place or another with a who’s-who list of figures but
often in his abode. Two of his three refrigerators feature a pre-
Instagram photographic collage of 1990s-era New York Holly-
wood. Top left, there’s Smalls with former 60 Minutes host, the
inimitable journalist Ed Bradley. Scroll down a couple photos,
there’s Smalls grinning alongside Quincy Jones. Pan to the center,
a clean-shaven, boyish Smalls looks positively luminescent next
to Lena Horne. Ah! Cicely Tyson, with the devastatingly low-cut,
eyelash-kissing bangs. Phylicia Rashad, LeVar Burton, Lorraine
Toussaint, and CCH Pounder—bright faces expressing joy,
amusement, bliss. Posted unframed and aged, they sit in
conversation with the sepia-hued portraits that line the hall-
way, an honor roll of Smalls’ immediate and extended family,
generations of dapperness, swag, and grace enshrined under
the glimmer of a tiered basket chandelier. In his first book,
Grace the Table: Stories and Recipes from My Southern Revival,
Smalls writes, “Nobody outdressed the Smalls family in Spartan-
burg—nobody.” The homage on his wall—featuring wide lapels,
pearl strands, symmetrical pocket squares,
and fedoras snapped-to—confirms.
These days, the guest list might include long-
time friends like Spike and Tonya Lewis Lee or
Al Roker and Deborah Roberts (“I’ve catered
Al’s Christmas party for 22 years”). Newer
ones, too—Lupita Nyong’o or musician Paul
Beaubrun. A guest mentions a book she’s just
learned about; Smalls knows the author, who
was sitting in the same chair last week. A guest
admires a painting; inevitably, Smalls is friends
with the artist, and a story follows.
“Alexander creates community when he sets
a table,” says singer Shola Adisa-Farrar. SheSmalls’ guests include singer
Shola Adisa-Farrar and mixolo-
gist Randall Dolland, who sipped
on juleps. His dinners begin with
hors d’oeuvres, like cornbread
muffins, then move to a family-
style feast, with dishes like sau-
téed green beans and mac and
cheese. (Recipes begin on p. 99.)TFOOD STYLING: ROSCOE BETSILL; PROP STYLING: MARGUERITE WADE