Mission Chinese Food. The name itself conjures up a whirlwind of culinary innovation and perhaps, a hint of controversy for those in the know. It’s impossible to discuss the evolution of the modern dining scene, particularly in the realm of Asian American cuisine, without acknowledging the significant, albeit complex, impact of this restaurant. This is especially true for publications that, like many, once championed its groundbreaking approach. Mission Chinese Food’s influence is deeply woven into the fabric of today’s restaurant landscape.
When Mission Chinese Food first emerged as a humble food cart in San Francisco, it was revolutionary. It dared to challenge diners’ palates, offering a bold departure from the predictable norms of destination dining. Four years later, when a New York location opened under the same banner, the anticipation was palpable. Chef Danny Bowien’s psychedelic and rule-breaking approach to food wasn’t confined to the plate; it permeated the entire dining experience. Suddenly, thoughtfully designed dining rooms, quirky bathrooms, and carefully curated, offbeat playlists became de rigueur in restaurants aiming for a unique atmosphere. Beyond the ambiance, Mission Chinese Food resonated with a certain queer sensibility. As food writer John Birdsall astutely observed, its cooking embodied “the transgressive spirit of the queer kitchen,” a sentiment that resonated deeply with many.
For many, particularly those within the Asian American community, Mission Chinese Food struck a more personal chord. It presented a distinctly Chinese American identity at a time when such culinary expressions were less defined and celebrated. While Momofuku Noodle Bar had already made waves in 2004, Mission Chinese Food felt different. It served dishes like mapo tofu, familiar to many Asian Americans but often misunderstood or exoticized by the mainstream. Suddenly, these dishes were not just understood but coveted. While some might jokingly label it “Sichuan food for hip white people,” the reality was far more nuanced. The menu was largely composed of original creations, dishes that spoke to a generation seeking inventive food experiences. For young people, especially Asian Americans navigating their identity in spaces where they often felt like outsiders, Mission Chinese Food was a revelation. It offered a sense of belonging, a feeling of being seen and understood within a vibrant culinary scene. Francis Lam, host of Splendid Table, perfectly captured this sentiment, stating that “as a Chinese American, it made me feel so seen.” This emotional connection was a significant part of Mission Chinese Food’s allure.
Danny Bowien and Angela Dimayuga, the driving culinary forces behind Mission Chinese Food, weren’t overtly performing Asian American identity. They were simply embodying it, authentically and unapologetically. From the outside, it appeared they were creating without the burden of expectation, free from the need to pander to “mainstream” tastes. They were, in essence, being themselves – sometimes unconventional, always original. This is precisely what makes the subsequent revelations of behind-the-scenes issues so disheartening. Mission Chinese Food created something truly remarkable, but like other once-celebrated establishments that were later scrutinized for their workplace culture, its name became associated with negative experiences recounted by former employees.
Angela Dimayuga has since embarked on new culinary ventures, and the controversies surrounding Mission Chinese Food have not defined the end of Danny Bowien’s career either. Bowien has issued multiple apologies for his role in the restaurant’s problematic environment, acknowledging the cyclical nature of trauma within the restaurant industry. He has since ventured into vegan cuisine, with a cookbook that garnered significant attention. Dimayuga has also released her own cookbook and continues to explore projects at the intersection of food and art. While Bowien and Dimayuga publicly attributed the restaurant’s issues to each other in 2020, they seem to have moved forward, at least professionally. Perhaps future ventures from either chef will reflect lessons learned, fostering healthier and more equitable workplace environments.
Regardless of whether Mission Chinese Food resurfaces in another iteration, the landscape of Asian American restaurants has undergone a profound transformation since its inception. It has evolved far beyond the influence of any single chef or restaurant. Today, a diverse and vibrant array of Asian American restaurants flourishes across the United States. Restaurants like Best Quality Daughter in San Antonio, Mister Jiu’s in San Francisco, and Kasama in Chicago exemplify this new wave. These establishments are increasingly helmed by Asian Americans deeply connected to their culinary heritage, a departure from the trend of non-Asian chefs adopting Asian flavors after travels. Furthermore, there’s a growing appreciation for traditional, Asian-run restaurants as serious culinary destinations. The dining public now has a wealth of options, a testament to the progress and diversification of Asian American cuisine. This evolution suggests a future where culinary creativity thrives alongside ethical and respectful workplace practices.
The question remains: were the groundbreaking achievements of Mission Chinese Food worth the reported pain and negative experiences? The answer is unequivocally no. Abuse and mistreatment are never justifiable. However, to ignore the complex legacy of Mission Chinese Food, to erase its impact, would be a disservice to the ongoing narrative of Asian American cuisine. Acknowledging both the innovative highs and the ethical lows is crucial to understanding the journey and charting a more equitable and creative path forward for the restaurant industry and beyond. Only by understanding where we have come from can we truly determine where we want to go.
