"You're going to that dump again? I hope you realize you're taking your life in your hands."
The "dump" my coworker referred to was a small north Dallas taqueria operated by a couple from Guanajuato.
At the time (about ten years ago), it was the only place I knew of in town to get tacos al pastor prepared with
the traditional, pineapple-topped vertical rotisserie. Its proximity to where I worked made it great for quick lunch
breaks. Stepping out of the elevator, I went my way and my coworker went his. Then I hesitated. Did he know
something I didn't?
Out of curiosity, I also looked up the location of the
national chain sandwich shop to which my coworker
was walking. I discovered that numerous violations had resulted in frequent re-inspections and, on two
occasions, immediate shut down of the shop. I logged off and headed out to get my tacos.
In the decade since that coworker's warning, I've occasionally heard like comments from concerned friends,
acquaintances, and even total strangers. Wandering through online food discussions, one also comes across
admonitions about the perceived health risks of eating at certain Mexican restaurants in Dallas. Whether
expressed as a vague apprehensiveness or outright conviction, the concerns share a few common traits.
The first commonality is the type of restaurant triggering the concern. These wary would-be diners do not cast
the pall of suspicion over all Mexican restaurants. None of them look askance at pricier establishments, such
as Javier's, Trece, or Maximo. None express misgivings about the cloth napkin Tex-Mex of Mi Cocina, Manny's,
or Luna de Noche. No worries about mid-range chains like Pappasito's, Abuelo's, and Cantina Laredo. Silence
about blue collar Tex-Mex like Herrera's, Ojeda's, and El Fenix. I can't even recall hearing doubts about quick
service chains such as Taco Bell, Del Taco, Taco Bueno, Qdoba, and Chipotle.
All such restaurants enjoy a presumption of "safety," despite diverse menus, price points, and formats.
However, they do share one common attribute--mostly white customers. Insinuations of dangerousness are
reserved for the hundreds of restaurants that serve mostly Mexican-American customers. That's a highly
arbitrary categorization, lumping in midrange restaurants, taquerias, barbacoa shops, birrierias, torterias,
fruterias, neverias, panaderias, paleterias, carnicerias, food carts, and more. Their only similarity is that they
draw more business from the 42.4% of Dallas's population that's Hispanic than from the 30.5% of non-Hispanic
whites.
The second commonality is the absence of stated, factual grounds for the concern. Why would a person feel
apprehensive of all restaurants serving predominately Mexican-American customers? It's rarely easy to tell,
since the comments tend to be made in an off-hand manner, with no further explanation or argument (a point
to which we'll return). The speakers don't point to public data or meaningful personal observations or
experience.
A charitable mind has no alternative but to imagine the possible justification for such a sweeping, race-related
generalization. The most obvious hypothesis is that, for whatever reason, restaurants serving mostly
Mexican-American customers are generally and demonstrably unsafe. That would be a serious charge to
make, but one that can be easily tested.
The Department of Environmental and Health Services for the City of Dallas bears responsibility for inspection
of restaurants and enforcement of the Texas Food Establishment Rules promulgated by the Texas Department
of State Health Services (25 Texas Administrative Code, Chapter 229, Subchapter K). In addition to
pre-opening permitting and inspection, City of Dallas Ordinance Sec. 17-10.2(f)(4) requires that "the director
shall conduct the periodic inspection as often as the director considers necessary to enforce this chapter or
other applicable law, but at least once each six-month period."
Not surprisingly, the city ordinance doesn't grant any exemptions based on the racial composition of a food
establishment's customers. The smallest taqueria is inspected and scored according to the same standards as
the most elite fine dining destination. Every restaurant's inspection scores are published online and are
available to customers upon request at the actual establishment.
The data provide an objective measure of a restaurant's safety at periodic intervals, as well as a basis for
comparison with other local restaurants. Rather than pitting individual restaurants' scores against each other, I
thought it better to look at two restaurant clusters.
Many talk of the vibrant food scene in Oak Cliff. I, too, find much to love there. Yet there's an almost complete
disjunction between the restaurants I find most interesting and those that others do.
The attention of the media and, not coincidentally, most white food lovers settles on the cluster of restaurants
in and around the Bishop Arts District--places like Bolsa, Kavala, Tillman's Roadhouse, Zen Sushi, and Café
Madrid. For me, the action is a few blocks south along Jefferson Boulevard, where one finds La Palapa
Veracruzana, Tortas Las Tortugas, Lito's, and Gonzalez Restaurant, among others.
Each cluster of restaurants represents varied price points, formats, and quality levels. One serves mostly
whites, the other mostly Mexican-Americans.
For the Bishop Arts District cluster, I looked at scores for thirteen of the better known food establishments,
excluding any that serve mostly Mexican-Americans. Specifically: Tillman's Roadhouse, Eno's Pizza Tavern,
Hunky's, Beckley Brewhouse, Zen Sushi, Hattie's, Gloria's, Kavala, Café Madrid, Cliff Café, Bolsa, Vitto Pizza &
Pasta, and Veracruz Café. All but one these restaurants have been reviewed by the Dallas Morning News
(Hunky's being the exception). Three of them (Bolsa, Eno's, and Zen Sushi) have received the paper's "Best in
DFW" award. An illustrious bunch.
For the Jefferson cluster, I looked at food scores for thirteen food establishments that I've written about over
the past couple of years--basically, everything from the 700 block of E. Jefferson to the 300 block of W.
Jefferson. Specifically: Gonzalez Restaurant, Las Ranitas, Paleteria La Mexicana, Lito's, Taqueria Pedritos, La
Palapa Veracruzana, Tortas Las Tortugas, El Regio, La Hechizera, Tienda OK, Supermercado Monterrey,
Panchita's, and Tienda Hispana. Of these, only one (i.e., Gonzalez) has been reviewed by the Dallas Morning
News. Most aren't even listed in the paper's Guidelive data base--as though the bustling, mile-long restaurant
row didn't even exist.
All inspection data that follow are from the City's Food Inspection Scores web site as of May 1, 2009. The
scoring tiers are as follows: 100 - 90 is Very Good (allowing regular 6 month inspections); 89 - 80 is Good
(allowing regular 6 month inspections); 79 - 70 is Passing (requiring re-inspection within 30 days); 69 - 60 is
Failing (requiring passing re-inspection within 10 days or closure); and 59 - 0 is Unacceptable (requiring
closure and a passing re-inspection before re-opening).
The mean inspection score for the thirteen restaurants in the Bishop Arts District cluster is 85.95. The mean
inspection score for the thirteen restaurants in the Jefferson cluster is 83.97. Despite widely divergent
customer demographics, the two sets of restaurants are, on average, separated by less than two percentage
points. The gap between the median restaurant scores in the two sets is even narrower, with the Bishop Arts
District median at 85.2 and the Jefferson median at 85--two-tenths of a percentage point. The Jefferson food
establishments are neither demonstrably unsafe, nor significantly different on average than the hip and trendy
Bishop Arts District set. Inarticulate fear of the former isn't justified by the data.
If one is willing to eat raw fish at the Dallas Morning News's "Best in DFW" Zen Sushi (average of 86), he
should have no problem eating mole verde or chicharron prensado at Lito's (average of 86.5). Is any
self-proclaimed foodie afraid to eat at the Dallas Morning News's "Best in DFW" Bolsa? Doubtful. But Bolsa's
average score of 83.5 puts it below both the median and mean scores of the Jefferson set. I never hear
anyone worrying about the "safety" of Bishop Arts District veteran Veracruz Café, even though its average
score (81.5) would put it in the bottom quarter of the Jefferson set. If that realization gives anyone pause, go
try La Palapa Veracruzana on Jefferson next time. In addition to an excellent meal, you can comfort yourself
with the knowledge that the restaurant's average food inspection score of 85 ties it with Kavala and puts it
ahead of Café Madrid and Cliff Café.
The only restaurant on Jefferson to draw meaningful attention from the Dallas food press and white foodies is
El Ranchito, also named by the Dallas Morning News as a "Best in DFW." El Ranchito's average score of 83.83
puts it below both the median and mean of the thirteen Jefferson restaurants listed above.
Though I wouldn't dream of fueling the tacophobes' anxiety, they should be aware of some other Mexican
restaurants in Dallas with average scores that fall below the median of the Jefferson group (i.e., 85). For those
who take solace in high prices and white tablecloths, watch out for Soley (average of 83), Trece (average of
80.5), and Maximo (average of 81). (Javier's beats the Jefferson median by a nose, with 85.5.) Those with a
penchant for white-collar Tex-Mex must beware of the following restaurants with averages below the Jefferson
median: Mi Cocina on the Tollway (83.7), Cyclone Anaya's on Beltline (82), Luna de Noche at NorthPark
(83.5), Taco Diner in the West Village (80.83), Manny's in Uptown (80.75), Primo's (83.6), Chuy's (83.2),
Mattito's (82.4), Matt's Rancho Martinez (83), Blue Mesa Grill (84.2), and Blue Goose Cantina on Greenville
(84).
Lest the fearful try to adapt by expanding their dread to all Mexican restaurants, regardless of the race of
customers, consider the following non-Mexican restaurants with average food scores below the Jefferson
median: The Mercury (82.33), Stephan Pyles (84), Maguire's (80.57), Shinsei (80.67), Hector's on Henderson
(83.4), Screen Door (80), Dali (84), Trader Vic's (83), Cuba Libre (83), La Cubanita (79), Toulouse (81.17),
Sangria (83.33), Fireside Pies on Henderson (84.8), Salum (84.4), Teppo (82), Villa-O (84.33), et al.
The charitable hypothesis--i.e., that restaurants serving mostly Mexican-American customers are generally and
demonstrably unsafe--doesn't hold water. Of course, the recitation of numbers above is not intended to
suggest that white-oriented restaurants scoring below the Jefferson median are unsafe. On the contrary, the
restaurants listed are generally safe and deserving of customers' confidence.
Nearly all customers give that trust freely, without any hesitation, and--more to the point--without any need for
reason or reassurance. In the history of dining in Dallas, has anyone ever felt it necessary to look up the food
inspection scores of The Mercury, Fireside Pies, or Stephan Pyles before deciding whether to eat there?
Why is it that some customers will walk into a restaurant full of white people with innate confidence in its
fundamental safety, while timidly seeking anecdotal evidence or food scores to quell equally a priori misgivings
about a restaurant serving mostly Mexican-Americans? "Safety" isn't the issue. Confidence is.
The third commonality of the taqueria hygienists' statements--related to the second (i.e., absence of stated,
factual grounds)--is that they're almost always enthymematic. In a nutshell, an enthymeme is an informal
syllogism that hinges on an unstated premise. Traditionally, the speaker omits a premise because he expects
its truth will be obvious to listeners. As the man put it, "For if any of these propositions is a familiar fact, there is
no need even to mention it; the hearer adds it himself" (Rhetoric, Book I, 2).
In more modern applications, enthymemes in rhetoric and advertising may be intended to avoid the necessity
of stating a dubious or controversial premise.
The rhetorical power of the enthymeme arises from the listener's "filling in the blanks" in the argument, drawing
him onto the speaker's side. The listener may regard the suppressed premise as obvious or, in some cases,
he may just go along with it because it doesn't seem obviously wrong.
Hygiene enthymemes generally take the following form:
Major Premise: [Unstated.]
Minor Premise: Restaurant X is operated by and for Mexican-Americans.
Conclusion: Restaurant X is unhygienic.
Of course, the comments are rarely framed so stiffly. They can be delivered quite casually, while preserving
the syllogistic essentials:
-- "You're going there [Minor Premise]? Brave man [Conclusion]."
-- "I still haven't tried Restaurant X [Minor Premise]. My wife is concerned about food-borne illness, so we don't
stray off the beaten path [Conclusion]."
-- "Yes, it's great to go to a [Mexican-American-oriented] hovel or dive and find unbelievable grub [Minor
Premise]. However, it is okay to find a [white-oriented] place that makes great food and happens to be clean
and safe [Conclusion]."
-- "Can anyone recommend a taqueria or taco stand in Dallas [Minor Premise] that is safe to eat at
[Conclusion]?"
The formulations vary, but the logical structure remains the same. On the basis of some unstated premise, it
suffices to know that a restaurant is Mexican-American-oriented in order to conclude that it's unsafe.
The unstated premise--the missing link in the argument--is clear: "Mexican-Americans practice bad hygiene."
Some might attempt to dress that up in ways that make it sound less narrow-minded, waving vaguely at
"cultural norms" or "educational deficiencies." Some might phrase it even more harshly, with an unapologetic,
racist sneer. Regardless of how the tacophobes are most comfortable thinking or saying it, for the syllogism to
work--for the suspicion-arousing conclusion to be valid--they must connect Mexican-Americans with bad
hygiene as a general rule. No wonder the premise remains unstated.
With enough time and repetition within a community, an enthymeme's conclusion may be so reinforced that it
comes to be seen, not as a Q.E.D. at the tail of an argument, but as simple, recognized fact. Received wisdom.
The tacophobe sees his attitude as natural and obvious merely by checking it against attitudes of others in his
community.
When the enthymeme's conclusion is accepted widely and without question, it can be further distilled and
condensed into connotative code. One of the more common examples of such shorthand is the word "clean."
Racially connotative uses of "clean/dirty" are not new. The seemingly innocuous word "clean" may be applied
to an individual in a class in a way that implies something derogatory about the rest of the class. (Recall the
flap following then-presidential candidate Joe Biden's description of Barack Obama as "the first mainstream
African-American who is articulate and bright and clean".)
In the case of restaurants, "cleanness" rhetoric often serves to connotatively distinguish a white-oriented
restaurant from its presumably "dirty" Mexican-American-oriented counterparts. Let's look at some examples in
descriptions of the popular, white-oriented Taco Diner in the trendy West Village mixed-use development.
Frommer's review of Taco Diner pointedly describes the establishment as "squeaky clean." Elsewhere,
Frommer's says that Taco Diner is "a clean, family-friendly place to dabble in Mex rather than Tex-Mex".
A common measure of whether a word is being used connotatively or merely denotatively involves substituting
an individual of a different class. ("Would you make it a point to describe a highly educated white man as
'well-spoken'?") Applying that test, it is hard to imagine that any reviewer would describe an Italian restaurant
as "a clean, family-friendly place to dabble in Italian rather than Italian-American." Making a point of a
restaurant's cleanness would always feel awkward, absent a presumption that for some reason (i.e., it being a
taco shop) it might not be clean.
In such connotative use, the expressly stated "clean" is always trailed by an implied "unlike..." or "as opposed
to...." Three Yelp reviewers of Taco Diner describe its cleanness. For comparison, looking at Yelp reviews of
other food establishments in the same shopping center, none refer to cleanness at Village Burger Bar, Paciugo
Gelato, Cru Wine Bar, Grimaldi's, P.D. Johnson's, Social House, Tom Tom Asian Grill, Mi Cocina, or Starbucks.
Apart from the Taco Diner reviews, the only mention of cleanness at a West Village restaurant is in the form of
a Yelper positively contrasting the lack of clutter on the sushi bar at The Fish with the allegedly messier bar at
Sushi Axiom. The particular and repeated emphasis on Taco Diner's "cleanness" stands out.
One Yelper avoids the code word, but states the underlying enthymeme: "They are the traditional soft taco
style served with lime & cilantro like you would get at a taqueria, but without the scary, whole-in-the-wall [sic],
health code violatin' vibe." Though undeniably tacky, that neatly sets forth the attitude encapsulated in
connotative use of the word "clean" (i.e., "clean, unlike...").
The editorial review on MySpace Local describes Taco Diner as "a sparkly version of a Mexico City taqueria,"
with the presumption that a Mexico City taqueria could never be "sparkly." (Perhaps that writer was unaware
that Mico Rodriguez, father of the Taco Diner concept, claimed the relatively pricey Mexico City taqueria El
Charco de las Ranas as one of his inspirations.)
A user review on MySpace Local reads, "The food is great and has a really clean look and taste to it." Though
one wonders whether that reader's eyes and palate are capable of detecting Hepatitis A or E. coli in a taco, her
description of the food as clean looking and tasting is clearly connotative. Through connotation, these
professional and amateur restaurant reviewers strive to reassure us--perhaps even themselves--that these
tacos won't hurt us, unlike those other tacos.
But despite all the talk of cleanness, the contrasts with "holes-in-the-wall," the descriptions of stainless steel
glinting in the comfortingly open kitchen, the parade of sleek and well-dressed patrons across the patio, the
cloth napkins, and the relatively steep prices, this location of Taco Diner received two food inspection scores
below 70 in the past two years--a 62 on June 12, 2007, and a 68 on November 13, 2008.
By the city's reckoning, those scores are "Failing," requiring a passed follow-up inspection within 10 days or
closure of the restaurant. A score below 60, which Taco Diner came close to achieving in June of 2007, would
have required immediate closure, with a passed re-inspection before reopening.
During the same two-year period, none of the thirteen restaurants in the Jefferson grouping described above
came as close to being immediately shut down or received more than one failing score. When it comes to food
safety, racial code and enthymemes are unreliable guides.
Most people who speak connotatively or argue enthymematically about taquerias aren't outright racists. Many
of them may never connect the syllogistic dots to recognize the dubious assumption underlying their
suspicions. They may have never directly reflected on or questioned the received wisdom that governs their
dining behavior. But they should.
Non-racist tacophobes aren't without hope. Talking with them, pushing them to ponder and get explicit about
the source of their hygiene concerns, may turn on the light bulb. In tandem with that, they can be offered
objective data showing the relative safety of some very interesting restaurants that (for now, at least) serve
mostly Mexican-Americans. Once they get over the initial hurdles and start enjoying the food, no additional
persuasion is required.
However, some of the tacophobes are racists--impenetrable to facts and argument. When they mouth off in
public, they deserve to be challenged. Though they're unlikely to be persuaded, stiff defiance shows them that
they can't safely assume that others will "fill in the blanks" for them or accept racial innuendo with a nod or
knowing wink. Informed resistance may make them more circumspect or discursively isolate them. Above all,
publicly responding to stone-hearted racists with the evidence, reason, and respectfulness they lack, may plant
seeds in more fertile soil.
Scott writes at Dallas Food. This is his first contribution to Shared Sacrifice.
The "dump" my coworker referred to was a small north Dallas taqueria operated by a couple from Guanajuato.
At the time (about ten years ago), it was the only place I knew of in town to get tacos al pastor prepared with
the traditional, pineapple-topped vertical rotisserie. Its proximity to where I worked made it great for quick lunch
breaks. Stepping out of the elevator, I went my way and my coworker went his. Then I hesitated. Did he know
something I didn't?
Out of curiosity, I also looked up the location of the
national chain sandwich shop to which my coworker
was walking. I discovered that numerous violations had resulted in frequent re-inspections and, on two
occasions, immediate shut down of the shop. I logged off and headed out to get my tacos.
In the decade since that coworker's warning, I've occasionally heard like comments from concerned friends,
acquaintances, and even total strangers. Wandering through online food discussions, one also comes across
admonitions about the perceived health risks of eating at certain Mexican restaurants in Dallas. Whether
expressed as a vague apprehensiveness or outright conviction, the concerns share a few common traits.
The first commonality is the type of restaurant triggering the concern. These wary would-be diners do not cast
the pall of suspicion over all Mexican restaurants. None of them look askance at pricier establishments, such
as Javier's, Trece, or Maximo. None express misgivings about the cloth napkin Tex-Mex of Mi Cocina, Manny's,
or Luna de Noche. No worries about mid-range chains like Pappasito's, Abuelo's, and Cantina Laredo. Silence
about blue collar Tex-Mex like Herrera's, Ojeda's, and El Fenix. I can't even recall hearing doubts about quick
service chains such as Taco Bell, Del Taco, Taco Bueno, Qdoba, and Chipotle.
All such restaurants enjoy a presumption of "safety," despite diverse menus, price points, and formats.
However, they do share one common attribute--mostly white customers. Insinuations of dangerousness are
reserved for the hundreds of restaurants that serve mostly Mexican-American customers. That's a highly
arbitrary categorization, lumping in midrange restaurants, taquerias, barbacoa shops, birrierias, torterias,
fruterias, neverias, panaderias, paleterias, carnicerias, food carts, and more. Their only similarity is that they
draw more business from the 42.4% of Dallas's population that's Hispanic than from the 30.5% of non-Hispanic
whites.
The second commonality is the absence of stated, factual grounds for the concern. Why would a person feel
apprehensive of all restaurants serving predominately Mexican-American customers? It's rarely easy to tell,
since the comments tend to be made in an off-hand manner, with no further explanation or argument (a point
to which we'll return). The speakers don't point to public data or meaningful personal observations or
experience.
A charitable mind has no alternative but to imagine the possible justification for such a sweeping, race-related
generalization. The most obvious hypothesis is that, for whatever reason, restaurants serving mostly
Mexican-American customers are generally and demonstrably unsafe. That would be a serious charge to
make, but one that can be easily tested.
The Department of Environmental and Health Services for the City of Dallas bears responsibility for inspection
of restaurants and enforcement of the Texas Food Establishment Rules promulgated by the Texas Department
of State Health Services (25 Texas Administrative Code, Chapter 229, Subchapter K). In addition to
pre-opening permitting and inspection, City of Dallas Ordinance Sec. 17-10.2(f)(4) requires that "the director
shall conduct the periodic inspection as often as the director considers necessary to enforce this chapter or
other applicable law, but at least once each six-month period."
Not surprisingly, the city ordinance doesn't grant any exemptions based on the racial composition of a food
establishment's customers. The smallest taqueria is inspected and scored according to the same standards as
the most elite fine dining destination. Every restaurant's inspection scores are published online and are
available to customers upon request at the actual establishment.
The data provide an objective measure of a restaurant's safety at periodic intervals, as well as a basis for
comparison with other local restaurants. Rather than pitting individual restaurants' scores against each other, I
thought it better to look at two restaurant clusters.
Many talk of the vibrant food scene in Oak Cliff. I, too, find much to love there. Yet there's an almost complete
disjunction between the restaurants I find most interesting and those that others do.
The attention of the media and, not coincidentally, most white food lovers settles on the cluster of restaurants
in and around the Bishop Arts District--places like Bolsa, Kavala, Tillman's Roadhouse, Zen Sushi, and Café
Madrid. For me, the action is a few blocks south along Jefferson Boulevard, where one finds La Palapa
Veracruzana, Tortas Las Tortugas, Lito's, and Gonzalez Restaurant, among others.
Each cluster of restaurants represents varied price points, formats, and quality levels. One serves mostly
whites, the other mostly Mexican-Americans.
For the Bishop Arts District cluster, I looked at scores for thirteen of the better known food establishments,
excluding any that serve mostly Mexican-Americans. Specifically: Tillman's Roadhouse, Eno's Pizza Tavern,
Hunky's, Beckley Brewhouse, Zen Sushi, Hattie's, Gloria's, Kavala, Café Madrid, Cliff Café, Bolsa, Vitto Pizza &
Pasta, and Veracruz Café. All but one these restaurants have been reviewed by the Dallas Morning News
(Hunky's being the exception). Three of them (Bolsa, Eno's, and Zen Sushi) have received the paper's "Best in
DFW" award. An illustrious bunch.
For the Jefferson cluster, I looked at food scores for thirteen food establishments that I've written about over
the past couple of years--basically, everything from the 700 block of E. Jefferson to the 300 block of W.
Jefferson. Specifically: Gonzalez Restaurant, Las Ranitas, Paleteria La Mexicana, Lito's, Taqueria Pedritos, La
Palapa Veracruzana, Tortas Las Tortugas, El Regio, La Hechizera, Tienda OK, Supermercado Monterrey,
Panchita's, and Tienda Hispana. Of these, only one (i.e., Gonzalez) has been reviewed by the Dallas Morning
News. Most aren't even listed in the paper's Guidelive data base--as though the bustling, mile-long restaurant
row didn't even exist.
All inspection data that follow are from the City's Food Inspection Scores web site as of May 1, 2009. The
scoring tiers are as follows: 100 - 90 is Very Good (allowing regular 6 month inspections); 89 - 80 is Good
(allowing regular 6 month inspections); 79 - 70 is Passing (requiring re-inspection within 30 days); 69 - 60 is
Failing (requiring passing re-inspection within 10 days or closure); and 59 - 0 is Unacceptable (requiring
closure and a passing re-inspection before re-opening).
The mean inspection score for the thirteen restaurants in the Bishop Arts District cluster is 85.95. The mean
inspection score for the thirteen restaurants in the Jefferson cluster is 83.97. Despite widely divergent
customer demographics, the two sets of restaurants are, on average, separated by less than two percentage
points. The gap between the median restaurant scores in the two sets is even narrower, with the Bishop Arts
District median at 85.2 and the Jefferson median at 85--two-tenths of a percentage point. The Jefferson food
establishments are neither demonstrably unsafe, nor significantly different on average than the hip and trendy
Bishop Arts District set. Inarticulate fear of the former isn't justified by the data.
If one is willing to eat raw fish at the Dallas Morning News's "Best in DFW" Zen Sushi (average of 86), he
should have no problem eating mole verde or chicharron prensado at Lito's (average of 86.5). Is any
self-proclaimed foodie afraid to eat at the Dallas Morning News's "Best in DFW" Bolsa? Doubtful. But Bolsa's
average score of 83.5 puts it below both the median and mean scores of the Jefferson set. I never hear
anyone worrying about the "safety" of Bishop Arts District veteran Veracruz Café, even though its average
score (81.5) would put it in the bottom quarter of the Jefferson set. If that realization gives anyone pause, go
try La Palapa Veracruzana on Jefferson next time. In addition to an excellent meal, you can comfort yourself
with the knowledge that the restaurant's average food inspection score of 85 ties it with Kavala and puts it
ahead of Café Madrid and Cliff Café.
The only restaurant on Jefferson to draw meaningful attention from the Dallas food press and white foodies is
El Ranchito, also named by the Dallas Morning News as a "Best in DFW." El Ranchito's average score of 83.83
puts it below both the median and mean of the thirteen Jefferson restaurants listed above.
Though I wouldn't dream of fueling the tacophobes' anxiety, they should be aware of some other Mexican
restaurants in Dallas with average scores that fall below the median of the Jefferson group (i.e., 85). For those
who take solace in high prices and white tablecloths, watch out for Soley (average of 83), Trece (average of
80.5), and Maximo (average of 81). (Javier's beats the Jefferson median by a nose, with 85.5.) Those with a
penchant for white-collar Tex-Mex must beware of the following restaurants with averages below the Jefferson
median: Mi Cocina on the Tollway (83.7), Cyclone Anaya's on Beltline (82), Luna de Noche at NorthPark
(83.5), Taco Diner in the West Village (80.83), Manny's in Uptown (80.75), Primo's (83.6), Chuy's (83.2),
Mattito's (82.4), Matt's Rancho Martinez (83), Blue Mesa Grill (84.2), and Blue Goose Cantina on Greenville
(84).
Lest the fearful try to adapt by expanding their dread to all Mexican restaurants, regardless of the race of
customers, consider the following non-Mexican restaurants with average food scores below the Jefferson
median: The Mercury (82.33), Stephan Pyles (84), Maguire's (80.57), Shinsei (80.67), Hector's on Henderson
(83.4), Screen Door (80), Dali (84), Trader Vic's (83), Cuba Libre (83), La Cubanita (79), Toulouse (81.17),
Sangria (83.33), Fireside Pies on Henderson (84.8), Salum (84.4), Teppo (82), Villa-O (84.33), et al.
The charitable hypothesis--i.e., that restaurants serving mostly Mexican-American customers are generally and
demonstrably unsafe--doesn't hold water. Of course, the recitation of numbers above is not intended to
suggest that white-oriented restaurants scoring below the Jefferson median are unsafe. On the contrary, the
restaurants listed are generally safe and deserving of customers' confidence.
Nearly all customers give that trust freely, without any hesitation, and--more to the point--without any need for
reason or reassurance. In the history of dining in Dallas, has anyone ever felt it necessary to look up the food
inspection scores of The Mercury, Fireside Pies, or Stephan Pyles before deciding whether to eat there?
Why is it that some customers will walk into a restaurant full of white people with innate confidence in its
fundamental safety, while timidly seeking anecdotal evidence or food scores to quell equally a priori misgivings
about a restaurant serving mostly Mexican-Americans? "Safety" isn't the issue. Confidence is.
The third commonality of the taqueria hygienists' statements--related to the second (i.e., absence of stated,
factual grounds)--is that they're almost always enthymematic. In a nutshell, an enthymeme is an informal
syllogism that hinges on an unstated premise. Traditionally, the speaker omits a premise because he expects
its truth will be obvious to listeners. As the man put it, "For if any of these propositions is a familiar fact, there is
no need even to mention it; the hearer adds it himself" (Rhetoric, Book I, 2).
In more modern applications, enthymemes in rhetoric and advertising may be intended to avoid the necessity
of stating a dubious or controversial premise.
The rhetorical power of the enthymeme arises from the listener's "filling in the blanks" in the argument, drawing
him onto the speaker's side. The listener may regard the suppressed premise as obvious or, in some cases,
he may just go along with it because it doesn't seem obviously wrong.
Hygiene enthymemes generally take the following form:
Major Premise: [Unstated.]
Minor Premise: Restaurant X is operated by and for Mexican-Americans.
Conclusion: Restaurant X is unhygienic.
Of course, the comments are rarely framed so stiffly. They can be delivered quite casually, while preserving
the syllogistic essentials:
-- "You're going there [Minor Premise]? Brave man [Conclusion]."
-- "I still haven't tried Restaurant X [Minor Premise]. My wife is concerned about food-borne illness, so we don't
stray off the beaten path [Conclusion]."
-- "Yes, it's great to go to a [Mexican-American-oriented] hovel or dive and find unbelievable grub [Minor
Premise]. However, it is okay to find a [white-oriented] place that makes great food and happens to be clean
and safe [Conclusion]."
-- "Can anyone recommend a taqueria or taco stand in Dallas [Minor Premise] that is safe to eat at
[Conclusion]?"
The formulations vary, but the logical structure remains the same. On the basis of some unstated premise, it
suffices to know that a restaurant is Mexican-American-oriented in order to conclude that it's unsafe.
The unstated premise--the missing link in the argument--is clear: "Mexican-Americans practice bad hygiene."
Some might attempt to dress that up in ways that make it sound less narrow-minded, waving vaguely at
"cultural norms" or "educational deficiencies." Some might phrase it even more harshly, with an unapologetic,
racist sneer. Regardless of how the tacophobes are most comfortable thinking or saying it, for the syllogism to
work--for the suspicion-arousing conclusion to be valid--they must connect Mexican-Americans with bad
hygiene as a general rule. No wonder the premise remains unstated.
With enough time and repetition within a community, an enthymeme's conclusion may be so reinforced that it
comes to be seen, not as a Q.E.D. at the tail of an argument, but as simple, recognized fact. Received wisdom.
The tacophobe sees his attitude as natural and obvious merely by checking it against attitudes of others in his
community.
When the enthymeme's conclusion is accepted widely and without question, it can be further distilled and
condensed into connotative code. One of the more common examples of such shorthand is the word "clean."
Racially connotative uses of "clean/dirty" are not new. The seemingly innocuous word "clean" may be applied
to an individual in a class in a way that implies something derogatory about the rest of the class. (Recall the
flap following then-presidential candidate Joe Biden's description of Barack Obama as "the first mainstream
African-American who is articulate and bright and clean".)
In the case of restaurants, "cleanness" rhetoric often serves to connotatively distinguish a white-oriented
restaurant from its presumably "dirty" Mexican-American-oriented counterparts. Let's look at some examples in
descriptions of the popular, white-oriented Taco Diner in the trendy West Village mixed-use development.
Frommer's review of Taco Diner pointedly describes the establishment as "squeaky clean." Elsewhere,
Frommer's says that Taco Diner is "a clean, family-friendly place to dabble in Mex rather than Tex-Mex".
A common measure of whether a word is being used connotatively or merely denotatively involves substituting
an individual of a different class. ("Would you make it a point to describe a highly educated white man as
'well-spoken'?") Applying that test, it is hard to imagine that any reviewer would describe an Italian restaurant
as "a clean, family-friendly place to dabble in Italian rather than Italian-American." Making a point of a
restaurant's cleanness would always feel awkward, absent a presumption that for some reason (i.e., it being a
taco shop) it might not be clean.
In such connotative use, the expressly stated "clean" is always trailed by an implied "unlike..." or "as opposed
to...." Three Yelp reviewers of Taco Diner describe its cleanness. For comparison, looking at Yelp reviews of
other food establishments in the same shopping center, none refer to cleanness at Village Burger Bar, Paciugo
Gelato, Cru Wine Bar, Grimaldi's, P.D. Johnson's, Social House, Tom Tom Asian Grill, Mi Cocina, or Starbucks.
Apart from the Taco Diner reviews, the only mention of cleanness at a West Village restaurant is in the form of
a Yelper positively contrasting the lack of clutter on the sushi bar at The Fish with the allegedly messier bar at
Sushi Axiom. The particular and repeated emphasis on Taco Diner's "cleanness" stands out.
One Yelper avoids the code word, but states the underlying enthymeme: "They are the traditional soft taco
style served with lime & cilantro like you would get at a taqueria, but without the scary, whole-in-the-wall [sic],
health code violatin' vibe." Though undeniably tacky, that neatly sets forth the attitude encapsulated in
connotative use of the word "clean" (i.e., "clean, unlike...").
The editorial review on MySpace Local describes Taco Diner as "a sparkly version of a Mexico City taqueria,"
with the presumption that a Mexico City taqueria could never be "sparkly." (Perhaps that writer was unaware
that Mico Rodriguez, father of the Taco Diner concept, claimed the relatively pricey Mexico City taqueria El
Charco de las Ranas as one of his inspirations.)
A user review on MySpace Local reads, "The food is great and has a really clean look and taste to it." Though
one wonders whether that reader's eyes and palate are capable of detecting Hepatitis A or E. coli in a taco, her
description of the food as clean looking and tasting is clearly connotative. Through connotation, these
professional and amateur restaurant reviewers strive to reassure us--perhaps even themselves--that these
tacos won't hurt us, unlike those other tacos.
But despite all the talk of cleanness, the contrasts with "holes-in-the-wall," the descriptions of stainless steel
glinting in the comfortingly open kitchen, the parade of sleek and well-dressed patrons across the patio, the
cloth napkins, and the relatively steep prices, this location of Taco Diner received two food inspection scores
below 70 in the past two years--a 62 on June 12, 2007, and a 68 on November 13, 2008.
By the city's reckoning, those scores are "Failing," requiring a passed follow-up inspection within 10 days or
closure of the restaurant. A score below 60, which Taco Diner came close to achieving in June of 2007, would
have required immediate closure, with a passed re-inspection before reopening.
During the same two-year period, none of the thirteen restaurants in the Jefferson grouping described above
came as close to being immediately shut down or received more than one failing score. When it comes to food
safety, racial code and enthymemes are unreliable guides.
Most people who speak connotatively or argue enthymematically about taquerias aren't outright racists. Many
of them may never connect the syllogistic dots to recognize the dubious assumption underlying their
suspicions. They may have never directly reflected on or questioned the received wisdom that governs their
dining behavior. But they should.
Non-racist tacophobes aren't without hope. Talking with them, pushing them to ponder and get explicit about
the source of their hygiene concerns, may turn on the light bulb. In tandem with that, they can be offered
objective data showing the relative safety of some very interesting restaurants that (for now, at least) serve
mostly Mexican-Americans. Once they get over the initial hurdles and start enjoying the food, no additional
persuasion is required.
However, some of the tacophobes are racists--impenetrable to facts and argument. When they mouth off in
public, they deserve to be challenged. Though they're unlikely to be persuaded, stiff defiance shows them that
they can't safely assume that others will "fill in the blanks" for them or accept racial innuendo with a nod or
knowing wink. Informed resistance may make them more circumspect or discursively isolate them. Above all,
publicly responding to stone-hearted racists with the evidence, reason, and respectfulness they lack, may plant
seeds in more fertile soil.
Scott writes at Dallas Food. This is his first contribution to Shared Sacrifice.
| Why is it that some customers will walk into a restaurant full of white people with innate confidence in its fundamental safety, while timidly seeking anecdotal evidence or food scores to quell equally a priori misgivings about a restaurant serving mostly Mexican-Americans? |
I turned around and returned to my office. Sitting
down at the computer, I searched for the city's
web page with food inspection reports. Finding
it, I waded through the awkward interface (much
worse than what they have now), and found the
taqueria's two most recent scores. Both were in
the upper 80s, ranking the restaurant above
most other restaurants appearing on the same
pages.
down at the computer, I searched for the city's
web page with food inspection reports. Finding
it, I waded through the awkward interface (much
worse than what they have now), and found the
taqueria's two most recent scores. Both were in
the upper 80s, ranking the restaurant above
most other restaurants appearing on the same
pages.
| In such connotative use, the expressly stated "clean" is always trailed by an implied "unlike..." When the enthymeme's conclusion is accepted widely and without question, it can be further distilled and condensed into connotative code. Racially connotative uses of "clean/dirty" are not new. |
HYGIENIC ENTHYMEMES:
RACISM AND FOOD
21 May 2009
by Scott
RACISM AND FOOD
21 May 2009
by Scott
| ALL CONTENTS COPYRIGHT 2009 SHARED SACRIFICE MEDIA |
| SHARED SACRIFICE PROGRESSIVE POLITICS AND CULTURE 21 MAY 2009 |
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