Look Inside NoMa’s Electrifying New Game-Filled Bar

This article first appeared in Eater DC on June 20, 2018

The Eleanor, opening soon, has mini-bowling, Skee-Ball, and more

Inquisitive neighbors who keep pressing their faces up against the glass at the Eleanor to catch a glimpse of the giant video games and mini-bowling lanes inside won’t have to wait too much longer to pump all their money into the buzzing machines.

Founder Adam Stein won’t say exactly when he plans to welcome the public to the game-filled bar he’s brought to NoMa (100 Florida Avenue NE), but assures Eater the fun-loving venue should debut before the end of this week. Stein has begun bringing in friends for preview nights. On June 19 he hosted a primary election returns watch party for D.C. Del. Eleanor Holmes Norton — one of the inspiring women he says his dream restaurant is designed to honor.

“I can’t get over it,” Norton tells Eater of the unexpected tribute.

The self-styled Eleanor shares some things in common with its predecessor Bar Elena, including certain menu items as well as similar electronic diversions, but also works in new additions.

The twin bowling lanes Stein had installed at the far end of the narrow space are his crowning achievement. Shaving that attraction in half — Stein originally wanted to have four bowling lanes — allowed him to create an area that is now home to a basketball game, Golden Tee machine, Big Buck HD video hunting game, and two Skee-Ball cabinets. He’s also sprinkled other games throughout including Mortal Kombat 3, a four-player Pac-Man Battle Royale with a massive screen, and assorted pinball machines. All the games, including the mini-bowling, can be charged to refillable game cards that provide nine credits per dollar. Games such as Mortal Kombat require three credits to play, while the Pac-Man Battle Royale runs eight credits per turn.

The Eleanor is projected to operate from 4 p.m. till at least 2 a.m. to start. Stein says lunch and brunch service should follow in the coming weeks.

Scroll down to look around the bowling-obsessed restaurant:

The bar at the Eleanor has seating for over a dozen cocktail lovers and slushie fans.
There’s a digital jukebox and a projection screen in the main dining room at the Eleanor.
Founder Adam Stein says this corner of the Eleanor can be transformed into a stage for visiting musical acts by removing the tables in loading in equipment via the rolling garage doors.
Eleanor founder Adam Stein says he’s working on adding a new Star Wars machine to the pinball zone.
Tables line the passageway leading from the main dining room at the Eleanor to the mini-bowling lanes.
Bowling enthusiasts at the Eleanor can relax on leather sofas and benches while waiting for their turn.
The men’s room at the Eleanor includes images from bowling comedy “Kingpin,” as well as a shot of late President Richard Nixon bowling at the White House.

Tony and Kevin. Two Chefs Gone Too Soon.

When I think of Anthony Bourdain, I can’t help but thinking of my friend, Kevin Weeks. Both chefs and both lost to this world too soon, each harbored some of the same qualities: an unquenchable and unyielding appetite for life, a passion for what they did and a similar passion to share it, and a deep and tireless curiosity to learn more about the world and its people. They were also two very influential people on my career and in my life.

I first read Kitchen Confidential two years into my life in the restaurants, right as I was deciding if this was going to in fact be my life, and I was going to abandon whatever my earlier plan had been—law school, journalism…cubicles. I was working for Kevin–a chef with wild red hair, chili pepper tattoos, a love for music, photography, painting, books, anything interesting really, and the sensibility that sleep was optional.

I didn’t know what I wanted to do with my life, but I knew I loved being in this business. With Bourdain’s book in my hand, I nestled myself under Kevin’s wing, and I figured this path was sure as Hell good as any other I was considering.

From there, the wild ride began, and it continues to this day. I struggled mightily, I failed repeatedly, but I pressed on. I remember thinking early on with a mix of fear and excitement, “Holy shit. Is this what it is like?” Kevin basically responded, “Yes. And no. Now get back to work. And you’re buying tonight.”

I did it because I loved the heat and the salt and the night and the noise. I did it because I felt, even then, that I only had once chance on the ride, and I wouldn’t take the path well-traveled because I was supposed to. But I also did it because I wanted to be like Kevin. And in a way, like Anthony Bourdain.

Anthony Bourdain pushed himself out of his comfort zone in so many ways. He wrote his story beautifully, and then he spent years telling other people’s stories. He went where many others had not—across borders and onto the backstreets, down the alleys and through the dark doors without fear or prejudice. And then he left the comfort zone of his new famous life and owned up to his past, supporting the #metoo movement in our business and becoming a leader when our industry needed them the most.

It was remarkable to watch Bourdain’s career evolve. He was to me, a good chef, a brilliant writer, and a preternatural connector. Rarely can someone meander their way to match their career with their true talent. He brought the secret pain and joy of the professional kitchen to the masses, and then he went further to connect the world to itself. I don’t think we will know the significance of his loss for some time.

Kevin died in a car crash, the result of a negligent driver, over 11 years ago. He was 35. My wife was seven months pregnant with our daughter. At the time, we were planning a restaurant together that would become Eventide. He never got to see it, and he never got to meet Evelyn. Many of us that were lucky to be in his orbit have never forgotten that awful night, never forgotten the impact he had on us and never stopped missing him.

I gave a eulogy for Kevin—one of many given—where I tried to sum up what it meant when I said we should all wake in the morning and “Do something Kevin today.” Essentially it means at least for a moment, go and grab life into your hands. Inhale deeply, taste it all, slurp up every drop and then…go back in for more. Break out of your mold, free yourself from your rut, and seek and savor something new. Kevin was a chef, but he was also so much more. He could do it all, and he would try anything.

Anthony Bourdain did that over and over. It makes me so sad to see how that was possible for someone so similar to my friend, and to wonder just what Kevin could have done if he had more time to grow. I have no doubt it would have been special, and I don’t think anyone who ever met him would doubt it either.

And yet here we are, and the world pushes on without the benefit of these two extraordinary people. There is nothing we can do about it, and they would surely not want us to linger in our loneliness. For more than 10 years, I have been trying to do that, and I am buoyed by the thought—the hope, really—that Kevin would be proud of me. I don’t know how else to do it.

I imagine that Anthony would have liked Kevin, and that Kevin would have liked Anthony. I like to think they would have loved to sit together, slurping noodles, slamming back shots and laughing and singing. I would have liked to be there as well; sitting there being grateful to know them and trying not to say anything stupid.

I don’t believe in God, and I don’t believe in Heaven. But the idea that maybe the two of them could be sharing that meal together now makes me pause–and smile. And in another 40 years or so, if there is an extra chair, and I get to sit down, I would be grateful.

Kevin with a huge striped bass he caught off Martha’s Vineyard before he cleaned it and cooked it for us, and Kevin and I headed to or from (can’t remember) or friend’s wedding.

NoMa Newcomer The Eleanor Is Working on Hemp-Spiked Drinks

This article first appeared in Eater DC on June 5, 2018

Bar staff are also investigating local spirits, regional brews, boozy slushies, and draft cocktails

While they insist that serving pitchers of now-ubiquitous Narragansett Lager is inevitable because of all the mini-bowling that’ll be happening at nearly ready entertainment zone the Eleanor, bar staff at the NoMa newcomer have much funkier beverages in mind.

When he converted Atlas District watering hole Boundary Road into Bar Elena last year, chef turned restaurateur Adam Stein made an effort to honor the predecessor’s commitment to fancy cocktails and local beers.

This time around, Stein has brought in newly married couple Jessica Rockwell and Katie Rockwell to serve as co-general managers and drink gurus. Jessica Rockwell, who worked with Stein at Light Horse restaurant in Alexandria, Virginia, is focused on building the Eleanor’s beer list. Katie Rockwell, another Light Horse alum who also spent time at Boundary Stone and budding chain All-Purpose, tells Eater she’s looking into drinks with some curious ingredients.

A little something that Katie Rockwell says has been rolling around in her brain since a road trip through the south: recreating the sensation of shelled peanuts plopped into bottled sodas. Although she says the custom seems to favor adding the salty specimens to Coca Cola or Dr. Pepper, Katie Rockwell is toying with mixing a peanut reduction into a whiskey-soda drink. Her other scientific endeavor involves using aromatic terpenes — organic compounds found in hemp and other plants — as bitters. Katie Rockwell says the liquid extracts she gets from her cousin’s farm in Colorado contain no THC — so no one’s getting stoned from these drinks — but do add different flavors, including “piney” and “herbal” notes, to cocktails.

If all that scientific stuff sounds way too complicated, the Eleanor will also have something anyone can understand: vodka slushies. Katie Rockwell says the goal is to create a base slush from a neutral spirit that can then be cut with other liquors, mixers, and flavors at will. There is also discussion of having at least one draft cocktail on tap. And the bar will serve crushed ice exclusively: a) so as not to excessively water down drinks, and b) because it’ll be that much easier to make frosty seasonal swizzles.

Jessica Rockwell, meanwhile, wants to fill the Eleanor’s 20 taps with a mix of beers that mean something to the various staff members. The aforementioned Narragansett is a nod to Stein’s time working in New England. Jessica Rockwell counts herself as a fan of Michigan’s Founders Brewing Company, so she’s carving out room for some of its beers. She and Katie got married at DC Brau Brewing Company, so that local favorite is definitely included. As are others Jessica Rockwell and Katie Rockwell have worked with over the years, including 3 Stars Brewing Company, Port City Brewing Company, Right Proper Brewing Company, Hellbender Brewing Company, Potter’s Craft Cider, and others. Local spirits makers on Jessica Rockwell’s short list include D.C.-based New Columbia Distillers and One Eight Distilling Company, as well as Gray Wolf Craft Distilling in Maryland.

“I’m mostly looking forward to building a community,” Katie Rockwell says of their mission.


It is not just hot chicken and country music.

In fact, if I never have hot chicken again, that would be fine with me. Sorry to be a hater, but I didn’t get it. I felt like the heat and discomfort was just making it impossible to enjoy a good plate of fried chicken. But hey, that’s me.

As to country music, I could care less about the pop country crap, but Nashville is inseparable from the real stuff—The Ryman, Ernest Tubb’s record shop and so on. I wanted to be near that history, and I could go see all that again. And again. However, it was great to see some music from other genres which Nashville is full of. I got to see Elise Davis at The High Watt. Great stuff, and thanks to Brooklyn Brewery for putting on the show and supporting great music. And for the old stuff, Robert’s Western World was just as described—and the grilled cheese was a nice bonus.

But, I was mostly there for the beer. And man, was there a lot of it. Thousands descended on the Music City Center to talk craft beer at the annual Craft Brewer’s Conference. I was struck by how focused, motivated and friendly the crowds were. The seminars, whether on bacteria in brewhouses or raising capital, were packed daily. The expansive floor was full of suppliers and brewers all trying to figure out where the industry was going next.

For a nascent brewery like our partner, City-State Brewing Company, this was an invaluable opportunity, and founder James Warner made the most of it. We were up, down and all around, trying to soak up as much as we can (and yes, drinking up a fair amount as well).

We left with the sense that the brewery we are building—a robust taproom in a great area with an eye towards a strong local distribution presence—is exactly the right spot for us to be in. For an entrepreneur, feeling like you are on the right rack is one of the most helpful things that can ever happen.

Thank you to the Brewer’s Association for an incredible conference, and to the dozens of helpful colleagues we met. We hope to see you all next year in Denver.

For Mothersauce, this was also a chance to see Nashville, and hear its story about what food and beverage means down there these days. I spent the mornings and the evenings learning about the city, and I enjoyed nearly every minute.

Nashville gets compared to Austin a lot, and while I can see that is irritating to proud locals, as a native of neither, I get it. From the surrounding hills, the heat, the river cutting through the middle, its easy manner, and most of all the explosive growth, it is easy to see a parallel.

As far as food culture, there is a kinship as well. Both cities have a very powerful, historical food tradition (tex-mex & barbecue in Austin, hot chicken & southern meat-and-three in Nashville), and yet with their growth has come a burgeoning food scene that often is completely outside the tradition.

So where will they go?

To me, coffee is always a marker. If a city has a vibrant coffee culture—independent shops, high quality local roasting—that is always a good sign. Nashville certainly has that. Regional chain Revelator Coffee is great, but my favorites were Barista Parlor (most stunning setting I can recall) and Crema (perched high above the river with the whole city to stare at). Great coffee at all, friendly people, and a clear devotion to the craft.

Next, the top end of the dining scene (yes, in price, but also in commitment to ingredients and skill) can say a lot. Is it all steakhouses? Is it “high-end” barbecue (why people try that I will never understand)? Is it national chains planting flags to tell a city what they should like? All those things are bad indicators.

I confess I was disappointed that a number of people recommended some steak and chop houses when I asked where to go to eat, but coming from DC where I sometimes think we invented the concept, or at least are responsible for keeping it alive, it isn’t really fair for me to judge too harshly.

That aside, what I found were some extraordinary concepts that would sit right at home in DC or anywhere. My favorite meal was easily Rolf & Daughters. Great service, excellent cocktails and wine, and one of the best pasta dishes I can recall. They have the benefit, along with honorable mention City House, of being in Germantown, a very charming neighborhood that I could see living in and being right at home.

The company in town to talk about is definitely Strategic Hospitality. It seemed half my list of recommended places were under their umbrella. They are doing a fantastic job bringing original, fun and unique concepts to Nashville. I love seeing a company working to elevate the dining scene of an entire city.

Since we are about to open a bowling concept, their multi-purpose spot Pinewood Social was a must. We bowled, we drank, we ate and it was all a blast. It was great to see that you can have the most proletariat of pastimes combined with elevated food and drink, and it just works. Again, nothing makes the terror of entrepreneurship easier to take than when you feel you are on the right track. Look for our version, The Eleanor, in NoMa this June, by the way.

From wandering in East Nashville to hanging out down in the Gulch, from Vanderbilt to Germantown, there were many more places that I enjoyed. It isn’t a walkable city, really, but it isn’t big, and you can hop from area to area very easily. I think I could easily fill another few days with more research. I am already scouring the tours of my favorite artists to see if I can catch one at the Ryman next time I am down there.

Restaurants Without Immigrants?

This article first appeared in Arlington Magazine on April 16th, 2018

Northern Virginia’s dining scene already has a labor shortage. What would it look like without immigrants?

 Sebastian Oveysi, executive chef of Amoo’s Restaurant in McLean, has big dreams for the next decade. A second dining spot offering live music and innovative cuisine. A James Beard Award. A Michelin rating.

As he talks at a quiet table near the front entrance of his family’s Persian restaurant, a glass of hot tea at his elbow, his enthusiasm is infectious. Amoo’s, which his parents bought 11 years ago, has launched a catering business and a food truck. His sister, Maria, who holds an MBA, does the books. His 75-year-old father chats up customers in the dining room and occasionally helps out in the kitchen.

The success of their family business is all the more astonishing when you consider the events that led to this point. Seb, 36, was born in Iran, where his Iranian-Kurdish father, Masoud, was an officer in the air force and one of the shah’s pilots. When the Iranian revolution erupted in 1979, Masoud was arrested, tortured and scheduled for execution. He escaped from prison and the whole family fled to Turkey.

After waiting more than a year for asylum visas to the U.S., they landed in a low-income apartment in Annandale with the help of church sponsorship in 1994. Masoud took a job as a busboy during the day and delivered doughnuts to 7-Eleven stores at night. Seb’s mother, Soghra, cleaned houses.

When Seb was 12, his parents bought a restaurant inside a motor lodge in Vienna. Every day after school he washed dishes, bused tables and helped with takeout orders. In 2007, his parents bought Amoo’s and brought him on as a partner.

By 2009, every member of their family, save one brother who lives abroad, had gained U.S. citizenship.
“A lot of people living here don’t understand what it’s like to be a refugee,” Seb says. “That’s why immigrants have a harder work ethic than most Americans. I hate to say it, but it’s true. Because they’ve gone through poverty, they’ve gone through annihilation, been thrown out of their homes. That’s why they’re here.”

Immigrants—including both legal and undocumented workers—have long been the backbone of Northern Virginia’s dining landscape. They wash dishes and chop vegetables, work as line cooks and sous chefs, bus tables, mix drinks, clean bathrooms and mop floors. Some open their own restaurants, bringing with them the cuisine of their homelands.

After the passage of the Immigration and Nationality Act of 1965, which repealed national-origins quotas and replaced them with a system based on reuniting immigrant families, Vietnamese refugees opened a string of restaurants that kick-started a renaissance in once-shabby Clarendon. Later, they helped turn a failing supermarket and strip mall in Seven Corners into Eden Center, dubbing it the new “Little Saigon.”

More recently, cafés and bakeries owned by natives of El Salvador, Ethiopia and Bolivia have sprouted along Columbia Pike.

Today, “Dreamers”—those still under temporary protection from deportation because they were brought to the United States as children—juggle waitressing and college. Green-card holders work double shifts and send money home to their families in places like India, Guatemala and Mexico. Ambitious chefs and restaurateurs are introducing Arlington’s food-curious public to Filipino street food, Uyghur noodles and Balkan small plates.

But within this tapestry of cultures, threads of worry are emerging in response to the federal crackdown on undocumented workers, a possible end to the Deferred Action for Childhood Arrivals (DACA) program that protects Dreamers, and proposals that would tighten restrictions on green-card holders and impose stricter limits on legal immigration. Some workers fear not only for their own security, but about what would happen to their families if their spouses or parents were deported.

According to U.S. Census data, 51,400 of Arlington’s 230,000 residents were born outside of the United States, and 29,400 of those foreign-born residents (about 13 percent) are non-U.S. citizens. (By comparison, about 7 percent of the American population nationwide is made up of non-U.S. citizens.)

The county has largely embraced these newcomers. In 2007, the Arlington County Board issued a resolution that read, in part: “We believe in a community…that welcomes and values all of its residents, treating them with human dignity and respect, regardless of immigration status.” Last spring, county officials publicly—and pointedly—reaffirmed that position, stating that local police have a policy of not monitoring, detaining, interviewing or investigating people solely to determine their immigration status.

A retired federal worker in Arlington recently donated $7,000 to create a scholarship fund to help would-be citizens pay the $725 application fee for U.S. citizenship. Since then, additional donors have more than doubled the fund, which is being managed by Arlington’s Department of Human Services.

But there’s still an ever-present fear in local kitchens, and the county board has stopped short of declaring Arlington a “sanctuary” jurisdiction. The executive chef of one upscale Arlington restaurant says he has had to reassure his mostly Guatemalan and Salvadoran employees that U.S. Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE) agents can’t just barge into the restaurant and scoop them up for deportation; they need a warrant.
Even undocumented workers have rights, he reminds them. “Some joke about jumping in the dishwasher or hiding in the ceiling to get away,” he says. “I say, ‘You don’t need to do that.’ We’ll get someone to represent each and every one of them if needed.”

Sometimes the mere sight of uniformed officers causes panic. In March 2017, when government officials raided a pharmacy near Bailey’s Crossroads for alleged Food and Drug Administration violations, rumors quickly spread to the Salvadoran restaurant next door that ICE had arrived. The kitchen staff slipped out the back door and customers stayed away for weeks, says Simon Sandoval-Moshenberg, legal director for the Immigrant Advocacy Program at Virginia’s nonprofit Legal Aid Justice Center, which has offices in Falls Church near the site of the incident.

Ever since President Donald Trump’s January 2017 inauguration, Sandoval-Moshenberg says his organization has seen a drop in the number of complaints from immigrant restaurant workers who say their employers are cheating them out of wages. “They’re terrified that getting involved in the court system will somehow lead to them being put on ICE’s radar screen,” he says.

As in most major metropolitan areas, restaurants are big business here. In Arlington, 7.7 percent of all county jobs in 2016 (about 17,000) were in the hospitality and food service sector. When the the current fiscal year ends on June 30, Arlington will have received about $40 million in revenue from meal taxes—money which, in turn, funds infrastructure projects and critical county services such as schools and emergency responders.

“If the feds crack down on immigrants, via deportation and limits on new arrivals to the U.S., the impact on the restaurant industry will be devastating, both locally and nationwide,” observes one restaurant owner. “Some places would survive, but many would not.”

Restaurant work has long appealed to newcomers with limited to no English and whose skills may not match what the local economy needs. Washing dishes and prepping food can be a foot in the door; then, as those workers gain fluency and pay their dues, they can move into public-facing jobs, such as bartending or waiting tables, and eventually to management positions with benefits. Some ethnic restaurants also enjoy a built-in customer base of fellow immigrants: Think Jewish delis in New York and Chinatowns across the country.

Café Sazón, which sisters Adriana Torres and Claudia Camacho opened on Columbia Pike in 2011, has become one such gathering place, although the sisters still wince in recalling how difficult the early days were.
“Lots of people told us not to open a business. We didn’t think we’d make it past the first few years,” says Torres, who came to the U.S. as a child, from Bolivia, and holds a degree in architecture from Catholic University. Today, the café enjoys a steady stream of customers craving traditional fare such as flautas, pupusas and silpancho, a Bolivian-style steak dish. Torres and Camacho have hosted karaoke nights and Thanksgiving dinners for their employees.

And yet there have been times when they, like other area restaurant owners, have been blindsided by the latest crackdowns on undocumented workers. It hit Café Sazón indirectly last year when an employee didn’t show up for work one day. Her husband, in turns out, had been deported to El Salvador, and she and her 3-year-old daughter left for New York to stay with relatives, Torres says.

When workers quit, it’s difficult to replace them. “At one point, we advertised for waitresses and waiters on Craigslist,” Torres says. “Out of 40 people that responded, four showed up. It’s hard to find people who mesh well.” She says native-born Americans don’t apply.

A pew research center analysis of Census data found that U.S. eating and drinking establishments in 2014 employed more undocumented workers than almost any other industry, second only to the construction sector. Of the restaurant industry’s roughly 2.3 million foreign-born workers, Pew estimates, about 1.26 million are documented and nearly 1.1 million are not.

Most employers don’t knowingly hire undocumented workers. Local restaurant owners and managers say they ask job applicants to provide at least two pieces of identification, although “it’s easier than ever [for applicants] to falsify paperwork,” says one industry veteran, “so it’s a cloudy issue.”

Many local restaurants use the federal government’s electronic E-Verify system that compares information from an employee’s I-9 form with data from the Department of Homeland Security and the Social Security Administration to confirm employment eligibility. Some even take it a step further. For the past year, Oveysi says he has paid a fee to the FBI to run background checks on individuals applying for jobs at Amoo’s.

Though restaurants in many states, including Virginia, are not required to use E-Verify, some trade groups are pushing to change that. The National Restaurant Association supports enhanced border security and making the E-Verify system mandatory for food and drink operators across the country. At the same time, the organization has lobbied to restructure the H-2B visa program, which allows employers to hire non-U.S. workers for temporary nonagricultural jobs. It advocates lifting the annual caps on such workers, describing the current program as “broken.”

“At the end of the day, these [restaurants] are small-business operators, so we try to protect them and keep them in compliance,” says Kathy Hollinger, president and CEO of the Restaurant Association of Metropolitan Washington. “If immigrants disappeared, there would be a crisis in terms of staff shortages.”

Arlington’s restaurant operators already are feeling those shortages. The county’s unemployment rate of 2.2 percent—the lowest in the Commonwealth—and the District’s higher minimum wage ($12.50 an hour, compared with $7.25 in Virginia) mean that workers are likely to quit if they can find a better-paying job just a few Metro stops away in D.C.

“We’re always hiring, and the applicant pool is thin to nonexistent,” says Nick Freshman, co-owner of Spider Kelly’s in Clarendon, which employs about 40 full-time and part-time workers. “Even if you’re unsympathetic to the plight of the [immigrant], you can be sympathetic to the plight of the small-business man.”

Paty Funegra is sympathetic to both. A native of Peru, she first came to the U.S. 10 years ago to work on sustainability projects at the Inter-American Development Bank. She was volunteering at D.C. Central Kitchen when she noticed that many Latinos weren’t receiving culinary training because they lacked English proficiency.

At the same time, she saw restaurants struggling to attract and retain good employees. She realized there might be a solution.

In 2014, she founded La Cocina VA, an Arlington-based nonprofit that is addressing restaurants’ high workforce turnover by training immigrants—mostly women, many of them survivors of domestic abuse or human trafficking—for professional culinary careers. La Cocina offers English classes concurrently with culinary training, food-handling certifications, job placement assistance and paid internships at local restaurants, hotels and catering companies, plus two years of career development support and an alumni network for graduates. More than 90 students have graduated from the program so far, Funegra says, landing jobs that pay an average of $13.50 per hour.

Maria P. (not her real name) is one of those success stories. It has been nearly two decades since she fled an abusive marriage in her native Bolivia, arriving in Northern Virginia in 2001 with her then-5-year-old son. Early on, Maria cleaned stores and ran a day care center. Then she got sick and had to close her child care business. She has battled cancer and depression.

“When I came to this country, it’s because I wanted something different for my son. I was safe,” Maria says, blotting away tears. She still fears that her ex-husband, who remains in Bolivia, will one day track her down.

Now a graduate of La Cocina VA, Maria works during the week at an Arlington bakery. She bakes in her off-hours, too, creating ethereal, pastel-colored confections that grace many a quinceanera table. Someday, she wants to open her own shop. She is remarried, and her son is majoring in microbiology at Virginia Commonwealth University.

La Cocina VA, meanwhile, has also gained more secure footing. Next year, a planned expansion will move it out of the basement of Arlington’s Mount Olivet United Methodist Church, where it has been operating for the past four years, and into a 5,000-square-foot space on Columbia Pike. The new facility will have the capacity to train triple the number of culinary students, Funegra says, plus an events area, technology resources, a “kitchen incubator” for budding entrepreneurs and a café.

“The café will bring the community in to see what we do and help move La Cocina VA toward financial self-sufficiency and away from being primarily grant-based,” says Freshman of Spider Kelly’s, who in April became board chair of the nonprofit. (He’s also founder of Mothersauce Partners, an incubator and consultancy that brings new restaurant concepts to market.) “We intend to make the café a significant revenue generator.”

La Cocina gives back to the community in other ways, too. Many of the meals students prepare daily as part of their training are donated to affordable housing residents and shelters serving the local homeless population. Over three years, the nonprofit has donated 22,600 meals and recovered 18,500 pounds of food from area farms and food banks, Funegra says.

Ironically, Arlington’s explosive growth in recent years has pushed some immigrants away, in spite of the county’s inclusive stance. The culture is welcoming, but the real estate prices and cost of living aren’t. Although children in Arlington Public Schools represent some 96 countries, the percentage of county residents born outside the U.S. has actually declined over the past decade and a half—from 27.8 percent in 2000 to 22.7 percent in 2016, according to an analysis of Census data by George Mason University’s Institute for Immigration Research.

A federal crackdown on undocumented workers and new restrictions on green-card issuance could cause more to flee. Funegra says the economic impact of their absence would be palpable: “Even undocumented immigrants pay taxes, and removing them will leave a huge hole in our tax system.”

But there are those who leave with hopes of coming back.

Another board member of La Cocina VA tells the story of an assistant general manager at a local restaurant who confessed to his boss that his employment documents were fake. The Salvadoran man had spent 17 years working his way up, from dishwasher to management. He told his boss he was working with a lawyer to try to gain legal status but needed to go back to El Salvador to get his paperwork in order. He left Arlington in December, scared and unsure about his future.

He and his boss kept in touch, and March brought news that the man had been cleared to return to the United States—another immigrant pursuing his own version of the American Dream.

Lisa Lednicer is a first-generation American. Her parents are World War II refugees from Belgium.