The buzz of a tattoo machine, the hum of a walk-in cooler, the clamor of a filled lobby, and the late-night neon that bathes them both. These are gathering places where like-minded individuals mark time and create memories sheltered from the outside world. They are both studios, where artists of dissimilar practices create unique works.
“I think chefs are rewarded by what we can create on the plate... that’s our canvas,” says Jason Brewer, Executive Chef at Blackwater Bistro. “But we only get to see it for small bits and pieces. So, I think we enjoy relishing in other people’s art on us, using our skin as a canvas.”
My fiancé and I have been on a culinary quest since we met. Within that journey, I’ve noticed a crossroads: the best food we’ve had is often prepared by tattooed chefs. Is there a common denominator? Or is this organic? I decided to find out.
My journey began at The Well, a long-time Pensacola staple of late cocktails and hushed secrets. It has become a culinary destination, thanks to Executive Chef Rusty Strain, and his blend of elevated southern cuisine. A veteran restaurateur covered in ink, Chef Rusty steers every conversation about tattoos and food back to one subject: family. On his left hand is a rose with the initials E.S. for Evie Strain, his grandmother.
“That’s who taught me how to cook. That’s who basically gives you the opportunity of eating my food.”
We spoke of the nurturing aspect of cooking and how it relates to being tattooed. “When you come in here, we want you to forget how sh**** it is out there and enjoy the now. The correlation is a mindset... It’s the perception of beauty and art. It’s part of the experience, and it starts when you walk in the door.”
Next, I visited Chef Jason Brewer of Blackwater Bistro. His appearance doesn’t immediately scream “tattooed chef.” He has them, but they’re tucked away. A self-expressive individual, he custom orders tie-dyed chef’s coats. Our talk centered on the evolution of the industry. Brewer comes from the Gordon Ramsay era of management—full of yelling and belittling, and he is glad it’s a thing of the past.
“It’s opened up the walls of communication,” Brewer notes. “You’re seeing things from different angles. Not everything is black and white.”
He brings up a good point. Not long ago, tattoos in a kitchen were a faux pas. Chef Lawrence of Agapi Bistro remembers being inspected prior to service: collar pressed, silly hat, no ink showing. Chef Jordan of Craft Bakery recalls being warned she had ruined her career by getting a neck tattoo during culinary school.
Perhaps the world is finally becoming accepting of people who look different, or tattoo culture has become so mainstream that it’s allowing this generation of chefs to succeed while wearing their personalities as sleeves.
Fortunately, Chef Jordan was not deterred by the antiquated views. I sat down with her at her newest location. Since 2018, Craft Bakery has been a pillar of Pensacola’s culinary community, their breads served in numerous restaurants.
Jordan values the craftsmanship of perfection. Showing off the “money shot” of a croissant cross-section, you could see the pride in her eyes. We discussed the joy we both gain from seeing someone enjoy our work, whether it be a photograph in my case, or food in hers. She believes people who excel in the food industry are exactly the type who likely wear their experiences on their skin.
Chef Lawrence at Agapi Bistro had a lot to say on how art and food evolve along the same lines.
“It’s all a repertoire of who they learned from. Who I staged under correlates to how I cook; who artists apprenticed under is how their tattoos look later in life.”
Lawrence’s early life was spent in the L.A. skate scene before finding a love for the culinary world, eventually staging under Frank Stitt in Birmingham. He compares his mindset in skating to being a chef.
“With skateboarding, there’s no plateau, and I think food is the same. You can do a kickflip off of something someone has never done before, you can make bourguignon in a way nobody has done before.”
So, what is the correlation? Why do so many talented chefs have tattoos? I believe it’s a reflection of where they are and where they’ve been. You can see it in their ink, and you can taste it in their food. You taste a little Frank Stitt in Chef Lawrence’s dishes, and you get a little Evie Strain in Chef Rusty’s. Chefs are a sentimental bunch. They know the power of good food and want to share that experience… hoping that in doing so they leave their mark.
I’ve noticed a crossroads: the best food we’ve ever had is often prepared by chefs tattooed to the gills. Is there a common denominator? Or is this simply organic, like a tree branching out in different directions? I decided to find out.