Visible Difference

Hispanic Restaurant Workers Transform Minnesota's Food Scene

By Kelly Westhoff

Minnesota Palate, April 2004

When Gabriel Ruiz-Perez first came to Minnesota, he was an invisible man. He worked as a dishwasher in a restaurant at the Mall of America, hidden from the view of customers. Sure, people knew he was back there; dishes don't clean themselves. But few gave much thought to the man buried behind stacks and stacks of plates.

There are thousands of invisible men and women working in the restaurant industry of Minnesota. Some are line cooks; others bus platters and bowls. Still others scrub bathroom floors or take out the trash. Although these chores are essential to the success of a restaurant, those who fill these positions rarely receive recognition or tips from satisfied customers.

Increasingly many of these behind-the-scenes restaurant jobs are filled by Hispanic workers, and their presence is making a difference in the way local restaurant owners are doing business. As the Hispanic population becomes a larger part of the Minnesotan landscape, many people who started out in invisible jobs are moving to the front of the house.

That is just what happened to Gabriel Ruiz-Perez, the dishwasher at the Mall of America: he is no longer invisible. Today he is the manager of Pepito's, a Mexican restaurant that has had a strong-hold on the South Minneapolis dining scene for the past 30 years. Ruiz-Perez greets customers, directs wait staff and checks the evening's total at the register. He is in charge, he is sought-out, and he is visible...very visible.

Certainly, Ruiz-Perez has a story to tell. Wearing a cream sweater, wire-frame glasses, and a simple, gold wedding band, he sat down on a snowy January morning to share his tale.

It was 1993 when he arrived in Minneapolis and his first job washing dishes was a shocker. In Mexico, Ruiz-Perez was the general manager of a bakery and grocery store. He stressed proudly, "I did not work with my hands." It is easy to imagine then that his initial encounter with a mound of dirty dishes was disheartening. "I tell myself," he remembered, "you have to learn something different."

That something different was English. Once in Minnesota, Ruiz-Perez realized quickly that without English he would never gain a job in the front of a restaurant, one where he could earn valuable cash tips. In the beginning, his English was limited. He used his hands to communicate and copied words he heard in the kitchen or on the street. He didn't enroll in a class; instead he learned through sheer need, tackling a task many Americans today can not begin to fathom: starting life over as an adult in a new language.

Eventually, Ruiz-Perez found his way to Pepito's, where he left dishwashing behind and started work as a line cook. At the time, Minneapolis was still a relatively lonely place for Ruiz-Perez. If he saw another Latino on the street, it was an exciting event. Both men would stop, exchange phone numbers and become immediate friends.

Not so any more. Minnesota is experiencing a tremendous wave of Hispanic immigration. According to the Chicano Latino Affairs Council, a state agency that gathers and provides information about Minnesota's Latino population to area politicians, Minnesota's Hispanic population had more than doubled in the past 10 years. U.S. Census data reported a state-wide Latino population of approximately 54,000 in 1990. By 2000 that same population had grown to roughly 143,000—an increase of 168 percent! Most of the newcomers are from Mexico, but Guatemalans, Ecuadorians, Colombians, Puerto Ricans and Salvadorians make up the mix as well.

Who are these new arrivals that have chosen snow and ice over hot sun and tropical air? And how, exactly, should we help them acclimate to Minnesota? Joe Senkyr-Minjares, the owner of Pepito's, says that we must help immigrating Latinos settle in and become active citizens.

Mexican-American himself, Senkyr-Minjares grew up in Minnesota. As the owner of a profitable, independent restaurant and catering company that has operated in the Twin Cities since 1971, he knows first hand the effects this current immigration pattern is having on the metro area dining scene.

"I can count on one hand the number of Latinos that came in here looking for work in the 70s," he said. "And even five years ago, right here in the city, restaurants were competing with each other for kitchen staff." That competition between kitchens meant workers would go through training in one place, then move on to another looking for better pay, better hours, or better location. For the restaurant owner, that meant loss of time and money as an opening would again be posted and a new employee would again be trained.

But now, with the increasing number of new arrivals looking for work, the merry-go-round of kitchen staff is slowing. In order to keep his workers with him, Senkyr-Minjares offers to pay for English classes. He pays a fair wage and promotes from within. At Pepito's, line cooks can become waitresses and dishwashers can become managers.

Senkyr-Minjares is passionate about helping his Hispanic workers gain a foothold in Minnesota, and he is troubled by negative attitudes he senses towards immigration. What many of us don't stop to consider, he says, is that "...the first ones to immigrate are the brightest, the best and the most aggressive. We are getting the cream of the crop right now. These people learn fast, they are smart and they have a work ethic that's hard to understand here."

Asked what he thinks of his own accomplishments, his own climb to restaurant manager, Ruiz-Perez agreed, but not in so many words. "We are humans too," he said. "We can think." Obviously. His success alone is testament enough to that.

Asked what he thinks of his own accomplishments, his own climb to restaurant manager, Ruiz-Perez joked, "Americans work for me now."

However, his smile faded and he grew more serious. He spoke of his family. As Ruiz-Perez sees it, working hard isn't a choice. His salary is not for him; it is for others. "Somebody needs me," he said, referring to family—his family here and his family in Mexico. "Americans live one life, but I live two," he explained. "They worry once, I have to worry twice." And yet those he worries about are those that keep him going. "I'm young. I'm muscle. I can do it now. I do."

But what if he didn't have to work? What if he could dream his own dream? Ruiz-Perez turned his eyes to a window, silent for a moment. Monster snow flakes drifted through the air and piled up wherever they landed. Finally, he answered, "I want to see me old in Mexico with some money."

Miguel A. Zagal

Owner of Taqueria La Hacienda

The burritos at Taqueria La Hacienda are attracting attention. Located inside the Mercado Central at the corner of Bloomington Avenue and Lake Street in Minneapolis, the Taqueria La Hacienda is a small taco stand owned by Miguel A. Zagal. Zagal's signature burrito, the burrito al pastor, is filled with barbecued pork and rice, a special recipe developed by his wife. Recently, his wife's burrito al pastor was proclaimed best burrito in town by Star Tribune's Jeremy Iggers.

The burrito al pastor isn't for everyone, though. First of all, a large leg of pork turns on a spit close to the counter and register. And the burrito doesn't come with lettuce, tomatoes and grilled onions like many might expect. No, the burrito al pastor is straight from Mexico—no gringo thrills (except cheese) added. Usually, says Zagal, the gringos bypass his taco stand for the one next door where they can get a tame burrito with lettuce and chicken. Yet enough people have discovered the barbequed pork burrito to demand it all over town; in just five years Zagal has opened three restaurants in Minneapolis.

The Mercado Central location is the original; the other two are located on Lake Street as well. All three go by the same name, with "# 1," "# 2" or "# 3" added to the end for clarification. A "# 4" is a future goal... St. Paul is the next frontier.

Zagal and his wife are no strangers to new frontiers. They arrived in the United States from Cuernavaca, Mexico in 1996. Eventually they made their way to Minneapolis; family was here and they had heard stories about Minnesota's economic opportunities. Zagal's wife had dreamed of owning a restaurant, but neither one of them had any experience in the industry. Their success in Minneapolis boils down to two clichés: being in the right place at the right time and good old-fashioned hard work.

Zagal arrived in the Twin Cities when the Mercado Central, an indoor space designed to resemble an outdoor, Latin American market, was in its early stages. The Mercado's design gives enterprising Hispanic immigrants a space to start small businesses without paying the large overhead of a traditional store front. As a plus, the businesses are grouped together, creating an instant community space. The Neighborhood Development Center (NDC), a non-profit organization that works with entrepreneurs in the inner cities of both Minneapolis and St. Paul, helped many of the business owners apply for loans and get started.

But small businesses don't last unless a lot of work is done. Zagal remembers working from dawn to sundown, and then some, to make the first Taqueria La Hacienda a reality. Today he employees over 20 workers and splits his time between all three restaurants. As for #4, well, St. Paul better be ready for a better burrito.

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