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It Was All A Dream: How A Girl From Chicago’s Westside Uses Soul Food To Unify The City
It's no secret that Chicago is plagued with violence, corruption, and other various predetermined lifestyles assumed to be synonymous to the black community. Murders, rivalries between the south and west sides, and gang affiliation all run rampant in its streets—and in national news—making outsiders wonder if we have to dodge crime at our doorstep everyday. And though these areas are disenfranchised and often disregarded for overall political improvement, these territories remain rich in culture and actively seek the betterment for their quality of life.
But even with the daily exertion of Chicago living, whether sensationalized or factual, the hustle is no match for Bridgette Flagg, owner and head chef of Soulé, a Creole-infused soul food restaurant in the up-and-coming area of West Chicago.
She dials back her busy day to shift her brazen focus to me as we discuss her mission of bringing Chicago together, through food. Standing at 5-foot-nothing and wearing a huge smile, her bright attitude and chief-like presence instantly commands the room. I take a moment to sit back and witness what she's built at this stage of her career as a sea of patrons swarm her to ask for a photo. She happily obliges, takes photos with every person who asks, and thanks them for their business.
When heading towards my table, she immediately checks on my entree and asks her staff to bring out servings of cornbread and yams for me to try.
Heck yeah, girl, bring it.
Named as the top soul food restaurant in Illinois by TravelNoire, Soulé has, in such a quick time, become a staple for food hunters seeking ironically what is difficult to find in Chicago: good soul food. Locals, travelers, influencers, and celebrities alike, all position it as one of the Windy City's most regarded locations for home cooked, slap-yo-mama cuisine. On Soulé's menu, entrees inspired by the Mississippi Delta, New Orleans and the West Side of Chicago are infused into every single dish.
No tricks. No gimmicks. All quality.
"We are your home away from home. It's not just about entrees, sides, drinks, and desserts… it's about the feelings around the food too." she says.
The walls house local scenic art of black artists. There's music playing from all corners of the restaurant, and the friendly customized couch-seating embodies the unique vibe of the dining experience she describes. "We are one of the only creole-infused soul food boutique restaurants in the world," Bridgette laughs. "That's what Google taught us."
As a black, female business owner entering a culturally saturated space, standing apart is essential to success regardless of experience level. And although her success comes with the glitz and glamour of having long lines and serving various celebrities, we wouldn't be doing our readers justice without stating the obvious: it's not always unicorns and rainbows. "Being a restaurateur was not—and still isn't—an easy journey. I thought I was 'on my way' because I had around $50,000 saved. [But then] I read that the average restaurant startup took about $150,000. In my mind, I thought I could fill the gaps by tapping into people who could do the work. Of course, I was wrong," she recalls with a forced smile.
"I had no business plan. All I had was my love for cooking and my faith. It took me about a year and a half for everything that could have gone wrong, to go wrong."
Before it all, Bridgette initially attended Jackson State, later dropped out to attend Paul Mitchell and became a hairstylist. Informally trained on how to cook by her late grandmother and mother, Bridgette remembers watching both women bring friends and family together through the powers of the kitchen.
Her eventual transition to food came when she began teaching herself to polish every single food item she had known. "It all started with string beans," she says with a laugh. "I taught myself how to perfect string beans. And then it moved to the next food item and [I] perfected that and then the next food until that was perfected as well. And that's how I learned."
Courtesy of Bridgette Flagg
But she doesn't credit her talents to being informally trained alone. She pulls inspiration from her late grandmother and mother, who taught her the importance of being positive, chasing her dreams, and never burning bridges. This all ultimately cultivates to her brand message, which speaks for itself: "I want to bring back family. It's missing in our community."
Her "I'm Rooting for Everybody Black" shirt places an unspoken emphasis on exactly what she means and just how much she supports the uprising of the community. "I work with an organization who trains the formerly incarcerated. They go through a 10-week program and when they're finished, they receive their sanitation license. These young men are dedicated hard-workers and we make them feel at home."
I take a quick moment to marvel at how dope this is and she continues, "I don't remind them of their mistakes. Soulé's brand is all about the family and community."
And boy, does Chicago need both.
"People who are from here always talk 'westside' vs. 'southside' but [we] bring all sides together and prove that there are a lot of love within our city. And the city is looking for collaboration, unity and someone or something, from—and for—the Culture to root for."
When asked how she managed to escape Chicago's war on black youth, she explains with beaming pride, "Chicago pushed me to not become a product of my environment. I saw a lot of [crime, violence, drugs, and poverty] growing up. I wanted more for myself and I knew that my environment wasn't my final destination. I just wanted to do great things for, and in, my city."
"Chicago made me who I am, I am Chicago. And I wanted to make sure that whatever it is that I did, it was a reflection of its beauty."
Shrimp and grits by SouléCourtesy of Bridgette Flagg/Soulé
I admire the affection Bridgette has for her business, which she displays in every detail while working the upbeat dining room. I can't help but to compare the scene to a conductor leading an orchestra. Her passion can be explained simply: "When I think of food, I think of happiness. Like, have you ever had some food that made you dance? That's my goal. I want to hit your soul when you eat my food."
And Bridgette has become a Mr. Miyagi master at just that.
With few black-owned businesses in Chicago receiving as much acclaim as Soulé, Bridgette has managed to escape the stigma of owning "just a soul food restaurant"—a major drawback restaurants of this genre are often associated with—and she's surpassed expectations by clinching to key differentiators and refining her niche. And although Soulé and various black-owned establishments have just as many diverse customers and are just as reputable, they are often left out of the prevalent conversations of fine dining.
Despite this, in their two short years, Soulé has continually attracted celebrities, has ranked as one of the best in the industry, been mentioned as lyrics in songs, and a plethora of other accolades that deem them ready to take on the giants, whether critically recognized or not. Bridgette dismisses this as minimal by focusing on what keeps her going.
"I have so many customers that come into Soulé and tell me how proud they are of me. These are complete strangers. These interactions keep me humble. Dismiss the naysayers and prove them wrong. I am. We all can."
She excuses herself for a moment to man the kitchen. I continue my entree, chat with the staff, and jam to some blaring Jodeci. I take in the Bieber look-alike next to me, enjoying the hell out of his lamb chops and the ladies across the room having a night out and enjoying a bottle of wine.
Bridgette returns and laughs at the atmosphere as if it's just another day. "With the tables being really close together, at times our guests chat with guests at the neighboring tables. Some days it feels like a family get together. One day, there was a table that paid for another table, and then, another table paid for another table. There was a pay it forward domino effect happening in the restaurant and it was cool to experience. Mary J. Blige's 'Sweet Thing' played out of our speakers, and the entire restaurant started to sing like a choir. It was hilarious. It felt like a family get together at Grandma's house."
We both laugh as a complimentary plate of New Orleans-style bbq shrimp arrives. "Enjoy." she says with a mega-watt smile.
Defeated, reluctant, and completely full, I dig right in.
For more of Soulé, follow them on Instagram.
Featured image by Shaun Andru
Charmin Michelle is a southern native and creative spirit who works as a content marketer and events manager in Chicago. She enjoys traveling, #SummertimeChi, and the journey of mastering womanhood. Connect with her on Instagram @charminmichelle.
Charmin Michelle is a southern native and creative spirit who works as a content marketer and events manager in Chicago. She enjoys traveling, #SummertimeChi, and the journey of mastering womanhood. Connect with her on Instagram @charminmichelle.
This article is sponsored by Hulu.
UnPrisonedhas returned for its highly anticipated second season, delving deeper into the complex dynamics of the Alexander family.
The series premiere comes a year after its debut season garnered rave reviews from fans and critics and earned record-breaking ratings for Hulu's Onyx Collective brand. UnPrisoned's success can be attributed to its raw, relatable themes and comedic appeal.
Inspired by creator Tracy McMillan's life, the show follows Paige (Kerry Washington), a therapist and single mother whose life takes an unexpected turn when her father, Edwin (Delroy Lindo) --who was released from prison-- moves in with her and her teenage son, Finn (Faly Rakotohavana).
Throughout UnPrisoned's first season, viewers witnessed how Edwin's incarceration deeply affected Paige's life and relationships. In the series, Paige unpacks her trauma through interactions with her inner child and her online followers. Meanwhile, Edwin is overcoming specific struggles with his own past that led to his life of crime, including a dysfunctional upbringing and his mother's arrest. As the Alexanders attempt to reconcile, new challenges arise.
This new season promises to further explore their unconventional family dynamic. Here are several compelling reasons why season two of UnPrisoned should be on everyone's watchlist.
The Alexander Family Life Is Still In Shambles
UnPrisoned's second season resumes where the series left off, with Paige grappling with the fallout from her troubled therapy practice and Edwin navigating life independently after moving out. Meanwhile, Finn faces his own challenges. The teenager is battling anxiety and seeking information about his father—a topic Paige avoids discussing.
The Alexander Family Are Attending Therapy To Resolve Their Underlying Issues
Amid the chaos in their lives, the Alexander family decides to mend their bond by confronting their past traumas. They seek professional help and attend therapy sessions with a “family radical healing coach,” played by John Stamos, a new cast member. This collective effort aims to unravel the complexities of their shared history and strengthen their relationships.
The process of unraveling each character's internal conflicts and their potential impact on future relationships may clash with Paige's textbook therapy approach. While Paige is used to being in the therapist's seat in both career and family, this forces her into the unfamiliar role of a patient during therapy sessions. This shift would compel her to look in the mirror and try a radically different approach.
The Alexander Family Learned A Big Lesson During A Therapy Session
In therapy, the Alexanders are tasked with addressing their individual traumas to salvage their remaining relationships. One of the family therapist’s eccentric suggestions was an exercise involving a family wrestling match. During this session, Paige faces tough questions about her refusal to share information about Finn's father.
While it's unclear whether this scene is reality or fantasy, the image of the family duking it out in the ring certainly makes for hilarious yet compelling television.
Paige Tries Dating Again Following Failed Relationships
Amid her life's chaos, Paige decides to step back into the dating field. However, her many attempts have left her with mixed results. The dating apps have turned out to be a fail, and an outing with her ex Mal (Marque Richardson), who is also her father's parole officer, doesn’t go quite as expected after he brings an unexpected guest – his new girlfriend.
The situation takes an awkward turn when Mal's new partner learns why the former couple split, partly due to Paige's self-sabotage.
UnPrisoned Is A Perfect Balance Of Comedy And Drama
As a dramedy, UnPrisoned takes a comedic approach to its heavy subjects. The show takes us on a ride with Paige's dating misadventures and navigating a friendship with her ex.
Other lighthearted moments include Edwin's attempts at CPR based on online videos and, of course, the antics of the Alexander family's unconventional new healing coach.
The second season of UnPrisoned is now available on Hulu.
UnPrisoned | Season 2 Trailer | Hulu
Feature image courtesy
'Dear Black Girls': How A'ja Wilson Is Helping Black Girls Heal & Bloom With Confidence
In recent years, books written by Black women, such as Viola Davis, Michelle Obama, and Taraji P. Henson, have adorned our shelves and shown the great trials and tribulations one has had to endure to become the woman we see today. Though their narratives show great accomplishments, they explain in detail the price that had to be paid to achieve their monumental success. Often, this price came at the cost of having to endure unspeakable tragedy. The world was being carried on their shoulders and backs, and they had to learn to balance the weight of it all. Despite the odds, they managed to grow and become exceptionally talented women with limited support or, most of the time, alone.
However, in A'ja Wilson's recently published book, Dear Black Girls, this narrative is changing for the better. The memoir shows that WNBA superstar, and growing legend, A'ja Wilson isn't just a force to reckon with on the court, racking up championships, MVP awards, Olympic gold, and season-record-breaking accomplishments. Her impact transcends the game, reaching into the hearts of young Black women and girls, who like me might have once felt a pang of otherness for embracing their inner tomboy.
Wilson's recently published book offered a powerful remedy, a story that mirrored my own experiences and gently soothed the wounds of not always fitting in. This collection of honest stories is not just about Wilson's journey, it's also a book that holds the potential to heal and inspire countless other Black girls who deserve to see themselves reflected in the pages of a champion.
Although Wilson discusses the tribulations she had to overcome, she didn't have to do them alone and often had more than one support system installed to ensure her success. This book ultimately shows the beauty that grows when Black girls are raised with nourishment, intentionality, and understanding rather than the unrelenting grief and sadness that many believe are necessary to raise Black girls.
In Dear Black Girls: How to Be True to You, the two-time MVP shows us that love, rather than unending tragedy, can be the source of success for all Black girls--past, present, and future. Wilson also shows us how love can occasionally come from an unexpected source--a stranger who only has compassion, empathy, and understanding to offer.
Living While Black
There comes a point in time, in every Black girl's life, where they learn that they are not just a girl, but a Black girl. For me, it was on the playground of my elementary school, where a white girl--who I thought was my friend--called me the n-word when I refused to join her in a fight against a mutual friend. For A'ja Wilson, it was when her "friend" refused to invite her to her house for a sleepover, unless she slept outside. When asked why she had to be the only one to sleep outside, she was quickly informed it had been due to her race. Though her parents discussed it with her and explained why she and the young lady could no longer be friends, A'ja Wilson offers a relatable lens to express the grief of realizing one's otherness.
The year she discovered her Blackness meant a difference, Wilson felt alone and began isolating herself. It wasn't until she met a woman who worked in the cafeteria that she understood the importance of being seen by someone who looked like her. In Dear Black Girls, Wilson teaches the importance of representation and finding someone who "looks like you" and actively cares and checks in with you. Though the young readers of this book will most likely never meet Wilson, she provides her novel as a stand-in role model who actively sees how alone some Black girls feel in the world and tells them lovely: "I see you, I got you."
Finding Oneself
There is a certain power in discovering one's "why." In Dear Black Girls, Wilson explains that in order to find oneself or one's reasons for doing things, it might be important to look to your elders. The ones that could make you believe in yourself. For Wilson, it was her grandmother. Her grandmother was her place of solace and the person she felt closest to. Before she picked up the game of basketball, A'ja's grandmother believed she was special and would achieve so many things in life.
Through this belief, she nurtured Wilson and taught her to believe in the good that everyone had to possess. She taught Wilson that Black women could be heroes, and knew how to "walk the walk" and "talk the talk." She taught Wilson, and in turn, Wilson has taught Black girls, that finding oneself can be done at the hands of the ones that we love. And that if one's love is strong enough, we can "freeze it, and preserve that safe space forever."
It's Okay to Be Different
In school, Wilson was considered a "slow learner." Diagnosed with dyslexia at the late age of 16, she believed she had not been as "smart" as the other kids. Wilson would freeze up in class, and despite loving to write narratives and the school itself, she found she did not catch on with her peers as quickly as she liked. She spent hours on end stressing about being different, so much so, that at times the thought of her otherness became debilitating and all-consuming. With her family and in her solitude, she understood who she was. However, among her friends and in class, she found that she didn't know who she was, nor who they wanted her to be.
From this, she taught Black girls that being a teen is stressful enough, so being oneself should be easily embraced. Though, she admits to not knowing the right thing to say, do, or act, and therefore is unable to give us "cheat codes," the best thing a young Black girl can do, is just be.
Find Your Gardener
I often say that Black women have learned to grow without nourishment. So, in reading Dear Black Girl, it was a refreshing change of pace to read that Wilson had been adorned with love, guidance, honesty, and protection by strong support systems in her life. One of those support systems was Wilson's father. Her father taught her many things in life, but one that was most essential was the importance of perseverance and overcoming mediocrity. See, despite being the best in her career, Wilson and basketball did not mesh well from the start. Instead, she had been known to try many things and was lackluster at best.
Nevertheless, when Wilson was told that she did not play well by her father--after asking why she wasn't getting any playing time--she finally learned to overcome her challenges.
Not because she suddenly practiced more, or believed she could do anything with time. She became better because her father gave her the option to walk away from the sport. He allowed her to be scared, to be unsure of what she wanted in life, and freed her of the stress of absolutes. Through encouragement, he became her gardener--always trying to bring out the best in her through "easy" and "tough" love. In Dear BlackGirls, Wilson encourages Black girls to find their "gardeners," the people in their lives who bring out the best in them, drive them crazy and are never afraid to tell them how it is. The person that pulls out all of the weeds and negativity, and leaves enough space for you to receive sunlight and bloom.
Gaining a Nonsense Detector
While finding a gardener, Wilson also encourages Black girls to find or gain a "nonsense detector." A nonsense detector is just as it sounds, someone who can detect the nonsense that the world is attempting to bring to them and help them identify what it truly is. They are the person who is willing to approach a spade and call it by its name. In Wilson's life, this was her mother. A'ja's mom encouraged her to think logically about her education and its relationship to her basketball career.
She was the person Wilson called when she learned to drive in a new state or deal with the stress of her newfound career. Through her mother's encouragement, she learned not to chase after boys or some concept of a new sense of self, instead, she learned to make decisions with her best interest in mind. In doing so, she chose family, which meant more time with her grandmother, which she would not have had if she hadn't learned to listen to something that encourages no-nonsense.
Grief Has No Timeline, Knows No Bounds
In 2017, during her junior year of college, A'ja Wilson was known as one of the best players in the NCAA. After two seasons of coming up short of winning a national title, she had finally accomplished her goal of winning with Dawn Staley's South Caroline Gamecocks. However, the win was bittersweet, because the champ had been grieving the loss of her grandmother, one of her biggest support systems.
During this time, Wilson discovered that grief could not be neatly packed away in a box, waiting to be unraveled when she had prepared to deal with it. She noted that it was an unending rollercoaster where lows felt all-consuming and endless.
In Dear Black Girls, Wilson discusses the importance of experiencing grief at its pace, and on your own timeline. She explains to young Black girls that the feeling of despair and paralysis is normal and that instead of trying to climb out of the sadness, sometimes it is beneficial to wade through it, with the people you care about. Not only this, she encourages Black girls to embrace support that may be considered unexpected, through a beautiful anecdote involving Dawn Staley.
The champ mentioned the coach drove down to her house, upon hearing about the death of her grandmother, and sat in silence with the athlete as she cried. She informed her that she could take all of the time that she needed and that the "team would be waiting for her when she was ready to return."
You Don't Know What You Don't Know
The issue that many people hold today is they expect to be perfect. Though we know perfection is merely a concept, and the only thing perfect about perfection is the word itself, many dwell on being perfect and having the foresight to ensure it is so. When perfection is inevitably unattainable, we punish ourselves for not knowing better or being fallible. Nevertheless, dwelling on things, especially in relation to being perfect, is nothing more than wasted energy.
In Dear Black Girls, Wilson--through a humorous anecdote of her WNBA drafting day--points out that everyone makes mistakes and that many should not be ashamed for not knowing what they hadn't known before. Instead, beauty lies in learning and giving oneself credit for the knowledge that you now have for navigating future situations. Instead of beating yourself up, Wilson tells young Black girls there is no point in beating themselves up and to allow grace in moments of uncertainty and error.
Protect and Nurture Your Mental Health
The idea of seeking therapy is often a hurdle for Black women. With societal expectations and generational aversions, the concept of the "strong Black woman" often overpowers the necessary, and sometimes dire assistance Black women should seek. In Dear Black Girls, A'ja Wilson points out that most Black women are the first, or one of few, in their families to accomplish significant achievements, such as going to college, getting a corporate job, or making a high-figured salary.
This results in pressure that cannot be seen as relatable by family members, and often results in anxiety disorders, growing, unrelenting pressure, and crippling stress. To solve this, Wilson encourages Black girls to seek help outside of themselves and their friends, to ensure they are not taking on the weight of the world, simply because it was placed on their shoulders. Black women need someone to talk to, especially when it has been ingrained since birth that we should nurture and care for everyone but ourselves. By seeking a therapist, this narrative can change, and the idea of being a "strong Black woman" can come from the idea of learning to be vulnerable and asking for help.
Be Your Own Hero
It is heroic to take control of your own life. Being your own hero gives you confidence and reassurance to face obstacles directly, to follow your passion, and to define success how you see fit. It can be powerful and gratifying to become the best version of yourself and to allow yourself to be. In Dear Black Girls, Wilson teaches Black girls their final lesson, "If you can see them [your heroes], then you can be them." Many Black girls do not seek certain positions in life because they have never seen people who look like them in certain positions.
Nevertheless, Wilson explains the importance of having and seeking out representation, either in life or in media. Then, she encourages young girls to pursue that life they dream of, because anything is attainable with hard effort and--most importantly--love.
Check out A'ja Wilson and the 2024 Paris Women's Basketball Olympic team from July 26 through August 11.
xoNecole's I Read It So You Don't Have To is a recurring series of self-discovery that breaks down self-help books into a toolkit of takeaways and tips that are meant to assist you in finding the best life you can live. Take what works for you, and leave everything else where it is.
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