Toward a Decolonial Cuisine: The Entangled Politics of Food Revitalization in Native-Led Culinary Organizations

In the restaurant industry, to "86" something means to get rid of it, to take it off the menu because it is no longer available.At Owamni, an Indigenous restaurant in Minneapolis, staff t-shirts, as well as the business's social media accounts, are emblazoned with the slogan "#86colonialism."When asked semifrequently what the #86colonialism on the back of our uniform means, the typical response is "To take aspects of colonialism off of the table by offering dishes composed only of precolonial ingredients."That being said, for many team members, 86ing colonialism does not apply only to decolonizing food but also to decolonizing restaurant culture by attempting to remove colonial, cap i tal ist, and often toxic work practices from the kitchen environment.Over the last decade, discussions about food sovereignty, food (in)security, and narratives about reclaiming "traditional" foodways have become more common in the areas of public health, Indigenous studies, and human rights.Within this same span of time, vari ous Native chefs, growers, organizers, and culinary entrepreneurs have started their own food businesses prioritizing Indigenous knowledge, ingredients, and agricultural methods.Though initially slow to achieve widespread recognition in the mainstream US culinary scene, some of these Native food producers are beginning to garner more attention for their food as well as for their food justice work, resulting in numerous culinary awards.Sean Sherman, an Oglala Lakota "Sioux" chef and owner of Owamni, has won awards from the James Beard and Julia Child foundations and was named one of Time magazine's most influential people of 2023.This chapter highlights the strategies, motivations, and challenges faced by two partnered Indigenous culinary organizations-a culinary education 3 Toward a Decolonial Cuisine: The Entangled Politics of Food Revitalization in Native-Led Culinary Organizations