MANSFIELD: Michael Symon Vs The Bigot

“Where black is the color and none is the number.” “A Hard Rain’s Gonna Fall” — Bob Dylan

Cleveland’s most celebrated chef, Michael Symon, stirred up a hornet’s nest when he said on a live radio call-in show, “There’s not a chance I’d let him into one of my restaurants,” referring to presumptive presidential nominee Donald Trump.

Now it’s a good bet that Symon knew when he uttered those words that he couldn’t stop Trump from coming into one of his eateries anymore than the manager of the Woolworth’s could stop black students from sitting in at a lunch counter in Greensboro, North Carolina over 50 years ago.

Yet Symon was well within his right to say on the air, “I’ve been fortunate or unfortunate enough to meet him through the years. I’m not going to lie, he creeps me out a little bit.”

Of course Symon’s comments were meant to be controversial, and I suppose mine will be viewed in the same vein, but I’ll say it nonetheless: Michael Symon creeps me out.

There, I’ve said it, although I’ve been feeling it for years. And the reason Symon creeps me out is that, in spite of his celebrity status, he’s still stuck in Cleveland’s old-school, institutionalized racist past.

The first time I ate in one of Symon’s restaurants was well over a decade ago. I was in business discussions with some guys whose base was in Tremont, and we decided to go out for a bite to eat afterwards. I was not surprised that the only black face in the place was that of the busboy, nor was I particularly disturbed by the fact. After all, this was Tremont at a different time. But times change, and Symon hasn’t.

And to be fair to Symon, he’s certainly not alone when it comes to only employing blacks in the most menial of jobs. You can go to many eateries around town — from high-end fine dining establishments, to St.Clair Avenue hash houses and greasy spoons — and the story is still the same — no blacks in the “front of the house” or even working as servers. It’s a long-standing Cleveland tradition in these establishments, some of which now have as many black patrons as they do whites.

No matter — they’ve never hired or promoted fairly, and see no reason to start now. By way of example, a dear life-long friend (now departed) brought a member of his Catholic congregation by our vineyard project a few years ago because the man had expressed an interest in reentry. He wanted to help. I explained that some of our workers went on to obtain jobs in the restaurant industry, and he quickly volunteered that he had built an Irish pub on the near west ide on Detroit Avenue, and that he could perhaps find work for some of our guys in the establishment.

I had a particular worker in mind, but when I said that the young man wanted to work in the front of the house, and had the intelligence and personality to do so successfully, the offer was quickly withdrawn. I could somewhat understand since few if any blacks darken the doorway of the establishment except to clean up after white folks.

Some restaurateurs are still so stuck in the past that they feel that if they have someone of color serving as a hostess that it will cost them money since some folks will not patronize their establishment. That is pure nonsense in this day and age. Time has moved on, but they haven’t. The world is not nearly as racist as their hiring and promotion policies are.

And then there are restaurateurs like Zack Bruell, who has for years hired and promoted staff fairly, without regard to skin color. And if anyone were to suggest to him that having a hostess of color out front would cause someone to not patronize one of his establishments, I’m pretty sure I know what his response would be: Similar to Michael Symon’s: “I don’t want them in any of my restaurants anyway.”

Michael Symon could use the RNC coming to town (or the CAVS championship win) to break out of his old ways and demonstrate that Cleveland is truly a 21st century city by placing a few qualified blacks in the front of the house. All it should really take is for the person of color to be attractive and personable — and trust me, I know a lot of blacks that fit that bill. Telling the old lie “I can’t find the right black” simply won’t fly anymore.

Now, of course, I could be entirely wrong: Symon could already be placing blacks in these positions, and it’s just that I’ve never shown up at the right time when they’re working. In that case I owe him an apology, and will wash dishes for a night at Mabel’s BBQ as a form of mea culpa. But something tells me that I won’t be getting my hands wet any time soon.

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