Alyssa Eidsness
Short Stack’s windows make big statements at one of downtown’s major intersections.
Before the 2016 presidential election, Short Stack Eatery co-owner Sinéad McHugh remembers hesitating before hanging a sign supporting Hillary Clinton in the window of her all-day breakfast restaurant. Would it alienate potential customers? Could it negatively impact employees? Should a restaurant even be taking a political stance?
“It was definitely a conscious decision, and one with weight in it,” says McHugh, who eventually put up the sign. “But it’s white-person privilege to think it’s not my problem.”
Since the election of President Donald Trump, its huge picture windows have filled with more political statements — messages welcoming immigrants and refugees, signs declaring support for the Black Lives Matter movement, flags representing all subsects of the LGBTQ community.
With its prominent location at the intersection of North Henry, West Gilman and State streets, Short Stack broadcasts its values for all to see.
“With our visibility, we can give a voice [to these causes] without necessarily giving money,” McHugh says.
It’s common for restaurants to partner with charitable organizations and support community causes. But in the last several years, some have opted to be more explicit with their politics, many acting in response to the advancement of far right-wing policies from the Trump administration. Last year, eateries across the nation, including those in Madison, joined the Sanctuary Restaurant movement in a display of support of undocumented immigrant workers. Activist restaurateurs in Portland, Oregon, threw a bake sale to raise money for Planned Parenthood; chefs in Madison and other cities followed suit.
Industry experts warn against these kinds of displays. “The safest bet is to stay away from politics,” Darren Tristano, president of the food research firm Technomic, told the Chicago Tribune. “It’s more likely that you’ll end up turning more people off on the right than bringing in more of the left.”
Laila Borokhim, a Madison chef who speaks frequently about her progressive views, tends to agree. “It’s a horrible risk. It’s bad for business,” says Borokhim, who owns Noosh on Regent Street and runs the bar at the Madison Labor Temple. “If you’re going into the restaurant business to make money, keep your mouth shut. That’s kind of the bottom line.”
Borokhim adds: “But I don’t want to give up my ideals just yet.”
The day after Trump’s inauguration, Borokhim took her food cart to the Women’s March and ran afoul of the city for selling “pussy pockets” without the proper permit. She donated proceeds from sales to Planned Parenthood. She has invited refugee women from Iraq and Syria to serve as guest chefs for benefit brunches supporting Jewish Social Services’ refugee resettlement fund. Borokhim is considering hosting another refugee brunch in September, this time with people from Latin America. Both immigration and reproductive justice are personal to Borokhim — her father came to the U.S. from Iran, and she had an abortion at age 18.
Borokhim has found there are “acceptable and non-acceptable” issues to champion as a restaurateur; promoting issues like environmentalism, sustainability and LGBTQ rights is safe, but drawing attention to racial injustice and religious intolerance makes people uncomfortable.
Borokhim says there’s a niche group that patronizes her restaurants because they support her politics (it also doesn’t hurt that her food is good) but emphasizes that is not the norm. “A lot of people want to just go to Chili’s and don’t want to think about exploitation,” she says.
In the early days of Short Stack, McHugh eased into incorporating causes into the business, starting by partnering with well-known organizations like Habitat for Humanity and Planned Parenthood. But 2013’s Race to Equity report, which revealed high levels of racial disparity in Madison, motivated her to do more. Short Stack partnered with Groundwork to implement racial bias training for restaurant staff and sent employees to a nine-week African American history course from Justified Anger and the Nehemiah Center for Urban Leadership Development. Owners of other restaurants, including Banzo, have reached out to McHugh for advice on how to implement similar programs.
McHugh says she’s received hate mail and has lost customers because of her activism. But the positive response has outweighed the negative comments. She’s noticed more people of color patronizing the restaurant, and she’s received heartfelt thanks from trans and gender-nonconforming people for providing accessible bathrooms.
“We want to be able to use the platform that the community has given us,” she says. “We definitely feel like we’re doing the right thing.”
