When I
stopped by Bobo’s Chicken Shack over the weekend, owner Devon “Bobo” Crittenden
listed off the details harrying him that particular day: Tax season, employee
turnover, a foot of snow and an AWOL plowman, and a squirrel in the exhaust
duct (safely dislodged before opening). “That had me contemplating on whether I
should open or not, but I pushed through, opened, and had a successful, great
day,” he says.
These are the hassles any restaurateur
in Rochester deals with on a given March day. But Crittenden also has another
stack of cards, piled up over his 33 years, that has taken a different level of
grit to push through, resulting in his Joseph Avenue restaurant entering its
fifth year of business. Bobo’s is recognized on Facebook, Yelp, and Google as
one of the best spots in the city for soul food.
The story of soul food is one of
perseverance and faith that traces its origins to the slave shacks of the rural
South. Using what was available and affordable, black cooks developed culinary
techniques for fried chicken, greens, ham hocks, cornbread, chitlins, candied
yams, and black-eyed peas, to name a few. During the Great Migration that
cuisine moved north and in the 1940’s gained the moniker “soul food,”
demarcating it from Southern food in general, (or, even broader, “comfort
food”) and stamping it a specific part of historically Black culture.
As Crittenden drove to the Rochester
Public Market on Saturday morning, his Cadillac sedan mirroring the gray of the
sky, the words perseverance and faith keep coming up. He bought shrimp, yams,
chicken, greens, and other supplies he’d need that day in a quantity that
filled his car. He makes this trip every day except Monday, the only day Bobo’s
is closed.
“My mother was murdered,” he says.
“So my grandma raised us and I been with my grandma ever since I was seven.”
He states this as a simple
biographical truth while prepping yams and shrimp in the kitchen that makes up
half of his restaurant. The other half is a waiting area for customers with
several chairs and a wall covered with pictures, including a portrait of his
grandmother.
“That’s how I learned to fry
chicken,” he says. “You know, she was a southern lady from Alabama and one
thing about them Alabama women — they sure know how to fry some chicken,” he
said. “I always wanted to cook like her because when she cooked, it brought
people together.”
Crittenden slowly gained his
grandmother’s trust in the kitchen beginning when he was 12, and by the time he
was 14, she sat at the end of the kitchen table and directed him.
“I was always trying to add a little
more,” he says. “Her shit — she was diabetic — it was good, don’t get me wrong,
but it was bland.”
Despite his time in the kitchen, he
says, he wanted a taste of life outside the house; a desire that resulted in
him being shot in the chest by a .25 pistol when he was 18. Frustrated with his
antics on the street, his grandmother kicked him out of the house. He finished
recovering from his wounds in a homeless shelter and later got an apartment,
only to be arrested for drugs and guns on the premises.
In jail, Crittenden remembered the
God he heard so much about when his grandmother took him and his three siblings
to church. “That was my breaking point,” he says. “I said: ‘I give up, Lord.
You get me out of this one and I’ll change my life,’ and yes, you know, he got
me out of it — and I didn’t look back ever since.”
Opening Bobo’s was a particular test
of faith for Crittenden. After eight years at University of Rochester, where he
worked as a lab animal technician in the School of Medicine and Dentistry, he
unexpectedly lost his job. “So I was like, this really may be the best time for
me to chase my dreams,” he says. “It was the work of God.”
For a year, Crittenden rode the bus
around the city looking for the perfect location for his restaurant. “But mind
you, I didn’t have any money,” he says, adding that he believed “God already
had the plan situated.”
He says knew he could make a living
nourishing his neighborhood on his grandmother’s recipes. And, he said, failure
wasn’t an option. After finding a landlord he calls “an angel,” and with the
help of some supportive friends and the Urban League of Rochester, Crittenden
was able to open his doors in the same neighborhood where he grew up, lost his
mom, learned to cook, nearly lost his life and his freedom, and found his way
back.
Crittenden now wants to set an
example for the next generation in the neighborhood. “You can sell something
legal and be a boss,” he said.
Newcomers, he says, should try the
restaurant’s namesake. The chicken comes fried to a crispiness that withstands
a drenching of Bobo’s sweet and smoky homemade sauce — a recipe he developed
when he was high. “That was back in my day, man,” he says, adding that he’s
been sober for two years. Fried pork ribs are a novelty worth mentioning here,
too — it’s a favorite among Bobo’s regulars and certainly a supporting cast
member to the chicken.
When it comes to sides, Bobo’s mac
and cheese has a stick-to-the-ribs satisfaction that tastes, oddly, even better
the second day (portions are so big there may be leftovers). Yams are bathed in
a sweet, vanilla-tinged glaze. Collard greens offer a savory refuge, with a
classic, earthy bitterness from the smoke and salt of ham hocks hidden inside.
Shrimp, which can be added to a combo and served over rice, are plump and
snappy in texture, with a dash of Cajun flavors in the mix. Finally, included
in each meal is a square of Bobo’s sweet bread, a vanilla-flavored crumbling
pound cake; a kiss sending the diner to that inevitable post-meal nap. Dinners
and combination plates range from $12 to $21 and include a choice of two sides,
rice, sauce, and sweet bread.
Crittenden says his next goal is to
expand to a sit-down space, but for now, it’s useful to call in your order
ahead of time. If you can’t get a call through, the food is worth the 15- to
25-minute wait.
“When you’re looking at your child
eating some fried chicken,” he says, “and you get to see their face and know
they’re making that face because of the chicken, and you’re making that same
face, that’s a joy.”
This article appears in Mar 7-13, 2018.
Best of luck to you Bobo – I look forward to stopping in and trying those Fried Pork Ribs!!