About Saartj

About Saartj

Saartj & Tunde Wey

CategoryDetails
NameTunde Wey
ProfessionChef, Writer, Social Commentator, Cultural Activist
BirthplaceLagos, Nigeria
NationalityNigerian-American
Known ForFounder of Saartj, a New Orleans pop-up restaurant and social experiment highlighting racial wealth disparity
Signature ProjectSaartj (2018) – charged Black customers $12 and white customers $30 to reflect income inequality in New Orleans
Cuisine SpecialtyNigerian and West African cuisine (e.g., jollof rice, fermented cassava dumplings, plantain dishes)
Project Name OriginSaartj is derived from Saartjie Baartman, a Black South African woman exploited in 19th-century Europe as the “Hottentot Venus,” symbolizing racial exploitation
Location of Pop-UpRoux Carré Market, New Orleans, Louisiana (later adapted in Detroit and other cities as expanded experiments)
Social Experiment ConceptDifferential pricing: White customers asked to pay 2.5x more than customers of color, mirroring the wealth gap
PurposeTo provoke conversation and awareness about systemic racial wealth inequality, privilege, and redistribution
Median Household Income in New Orleans (at time of experiment)Black households: $25,806; White households: $64,377
Redistribution ElementWhite customers paying $30 contributed to a pool redistributed to customers of color, symbolizing wealth reallocation
Public ReactionsMixed — many white diners paid the higher price (78% according to Wey), citing guilt and social pressure; others refused or walked away; many Black diners declined to take redistributed funds
Survey ElementDiners completed surveys (designed with Tulane University students) to capture responses, attitudes, and emotional reactions
Other Projects by WeyBlackness in America (2016 dinner series on racism & economics); 44: A Table for 44 (2017, Memphis, inspired by Jay-Z’s “4:44,” focused on capitalism, race, and survival)
Public Statements“We’re told if you work hard you’ll become wealthy—and that’s not true. Wealth in America has always been contingent on exclusion and dispossession.”
Critical ReceptionCovered widely by NPR, The Independent, Eater, Civil Eats, Indy100, and more; praised as bold and thought-provoking; criticized by some as performative or uncomfortable
Impact on DinersSparked self-reflection, discomfort, debates over fairness, and recognition of the systemic nature of inequality
Broader Cultural LinksInspired by Jay-Z’s focus on financial freedom; intersects with work of Ta-Nehisi Coates and economists analyzing wealth gaps; resonates with celebrity-driven initiatives addressing inequality (LeBron James’ I Promise School, Beyoncé’s Black business support)
Industry SignificanceDemonstrated how restaurants and dining culture can act as powerful platforms for social commentary and activism
Websitesaartj.com
LegacySaartj remains one of the most notable food-based social experiments in U.S. history, illustrating how everyday transactions can expose systemic injustice

Not only were patrons asked what they wanted to eat when they approached the Saartj counter, but they were also asked to consider the past. The pop-up’s Nigerian-born chef, Tunde Wey, turned the simple act of purchasing lunch into a straight-forward lesson on economics and race. It cost $12 for a meal for Black patrons. The price was $30 for white customers. The figures were not arbitrary; rather, they represented the remarkably similar disparity between the median incomes of white and Black households in New Orleans. Lunch turned into a mirror with an unflattering reflection.

 

Many diners were immediately uncomfortable. Recognizing that refusing felt anti-social, a few white customers took out their wallets and discreetly paid the higher price. Others argued, gave explanations, or simply left. Black customers, on the other hand, were offered the opportunity to withdraw an extra $18 from the register as a sign of wealth transfer. Surprisingly, most declined. “Give it to someone who needs it more,” some insisted, while others even attempted to pay the $30 themselves. The ensuing conflict in America over privilege, justice, and accountability was remarkably evident in the microcosm.

Wey’s experiment, which continued his work of using food as a cultural commentary, was not a stunt. Prior to Saartj, he produced 44: A Table for 44, which was influenced by Jay-Z’s album “4:44,” and Blackness in America, a dinner series about race and economics over shared meals. That project investigated the possibility that capitalism could save Black communities. Saartj brought that discussion outside of carefully manicured settings and into the unstructured mayhem of a lunch market, making people make a snap decision about whether or not to accept inequality in the most basic of actions—buying food.

Deepening the symbolism was the name choice. The name Saartj was inspired by Saartjie Baartman, a South African woman who famously paraded as a spectacle in Europe in the 1800s. The dehumanization and commodification of Black bodies was exemplified by her exploitation. By naming his project after her, Wey linked his pricing strategy to a longer history of systemic abuse, which is still evident in the disparities in wealth accumulation, housing discrimination, and wage gaps. Although the exploitation may have taken a different form, it has not vanished. This connection was glaringly obvious.

Quickly, conversations started. Eater commended the bravery, The Independent examined the moral quandaries faced by diners, and NPR covered the story with remarkable vigor. Whether a restaurant chain could actually bring about significant change was questioned by critics. If it was only because it upset the usual comfort of everyday life, admirers regarded it as extraordinarily effective. It was “a slap in the face you didn’t know you needed,” according to one diner. The discomfort was part of the whole point, not just an incident.

There were striking differences in the Saartj data. Social pressure and the obvious presence of Wey across the counter led about 78% of white customers to opt for the higher price. By refusing to pay while being observed by a Black chef, he publicly acknowledged that his presence mattered and transformed an intangible inequity into a personal choice. On the other hand, the overwhelming majority of Black diners refused to participate in the redistribution option, demonstrating their dignity and opposition to being portrayed as passive recipients. The experiment demonstrated how agency itself—who is expected to receive and who has the right to give—remains one of the most complex aspects of inequality.

Saartj’s alignment with wider cultural movements went beyond the immediate impact. Ta-Nehisi Coates’ essays on reparations, Jay-Z’s lyrical thoughts on financial freedom, and LeBron James’ educational investments all center on the same issue: how do we bridge the wealth gap between generations? According to economists at the Economic Policy Institute, the median wealth of a white family is almost ten times that of a black family. These numbers are the result of intentional denial of opportunity, redlining, exclusionary policies, and housing discrimination; they are not coincidental. In a single lunch transaction, Saartj condensed those expansive realities, leaving diners with more than just jollof rice to chew on.

Compared to conventional charity models, Wey’s strategy provided a strikingly effective contrast. He maintained that America’s wealth has always been based on dispossession and rejected the idea that redistribution is a charitable endeavor. He argued, “Money doesn’t distill virtue on you,” undermining the idea that generosity equates to moral superiority. Rather, he presented redistribution as neutral—a change, not a favor. He repositioned agency by allowing Black diners to choose whether or not to accept redistributed funds, moving the decision-making process away from the historically privileged.

Even the rejections taught us something. In addition to pride, the majority of Black diners’ refusal to accept the $18 demonstrated a remarkably similar understanding of optics—the desire to avoid being defined by deficit. That conflict served as an example of the paradox of inequality: people who are most impacted by systemic obstacles frequently bear the extra responsibility of shielding themselves from being perceived as dependent. The gesture became just as symbolic as the actual price.

Interpersonal interactions, according to some critics, divert attention from systemic change. On the basis of ideology, a white diner who identified as progressive refused to pay more, arguing that discussions about race and class ought to be settled by voting and civic participation. Although he accepted the criticism, Wey maintained that individual actions—particularly those involving money—are reflections of systems rather than distinct entities. When a customer hesitates at a counter, their hesitation is layered with perception, privilege, and history.

Saartj’s influence goes beyond New Orleans. The idea of privilege-based pricing was proven to be transferable when the experiment was replicated in Detroit and modified in new ways. It inspired other chefs to use food as a platform for commentary on issues like labor rights, climate change, and cultural ownership, and its influence permeated larger discussions about socially conscious dining. It positioned dining establishments as forums for conversation as well as places to consume food.

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How Much Has Dinner Out Really Changed in 50 Years? The Numbers May Shock You

Table: Average Restaurant Bill in the US

Time PeriodAverage Bill / Key Details
1930sFederal survey reported an average lunch price of 38 cents in big-city commercial restaurants.
1950s–1960sCasual meals ranged from $1.50–$2.50; upscale dining in major cities hit $7–$10.
1970s–1980sCasual dining bills rose steadily; average sit-down meal for two often reached $20–$25.
1990sDinner for two at casual restaurants cost around $30; tipping averaged 15%–18%.
2000sRising costs lifted casual checks for two to $35–$45; fine dining easily passed $100.
2010sGrowth accelerated; casual dinners climbed to $55–$65 with drinks and tip included.
2020Pandemic briefly lowered dining out, shifting budgets to groceries.
2023USDA data showed Americans spent 55.7% of their food budget on dining out and takeout.
2025Bureau of Labor Statistics reported average check for two at full-service restaurants $75+ before tip.
Tipping TrendsCustomary tip rose from 15% in 1990s to 18–20% today, with many restaurants adding service fees.

There has always been more to a restaurant bill than just the numbers on a receipt. It subtly gauges lifestyle, culture, and inflation, reminding us that eating out is a reflection of both wealth and hardship. According to a federal survey conducted in 1930, the average lunch at a commercial restaurant in a large city cost only 38 cents. Bread, coffee, meat, vegetables, and soup were all purchased with that meager sum. It was straightforward, fulfilling, and remarkably consistent across geographical boundaries. At the time, a worker’s hourly wage was less than $1, so the bill was reasonably affordable, but it still needed consideration. Back then, eating out was commonplace rather than ostentatious.

 

By the 1950s, restaurant culture had absorbed the optimism of postwar America. In the thriving suburbs, families took advantage of Sunday “all-you-can-eat” spreads for $1.50, drive-ins, and cafeterias. The balance felt fair because wages had increased along with the bill. Whereas New York’s renowned Le Pavillon charged $7.50 for an elite lunch, a $2.75 dinner in Chicago included steak, potatoes, and dessert. That amount was regarded as extravagant at the time, but it seems surprisingly reasonable now. In contrast to the Depression years, the restaurant bill was noticeably better, indicating both plenty and faith in American success.

The dining rhythm was altered in the 1970s and 1980s. Habits were changed by casual restaurants like Applebee, Red Lobster, and Olive Garden. Two adults could eat for about $20 to $25, while a family of four could eat for less than $30. The rising cost of eating out and the decade’s inflation were both reflected in restaurant bills. By the 1990s, the average dinner for two was close to $30, and customs surrounding tipping started to change. Many servers now expect 18%, whereas previously 15% was the standard. The bill grew to include cultural expectations in addition to prices. The dining performance was enhanced by a generous tip.

By the 2000s, fine dining had risen above $100, while casual restaurant checks had slipped into the $35–$45 range for two. The average check was much higher due to economic pressures, including wages, imported ingredients, and healthcare costs. However, Americans did not avoid dining establishments. They leaned in instead. Eating out has become a form of identity for Americans, as evidenced by the USDA’s spending tracking, which showed that they routinely spend a larger portion of their budget on dining out than groceries. Food was only one aspect of a night at The Cheesecake Factory or a fine dining temple; other factors included status, convenience, and connections. Instead of reflecting necessity, the bill increasingly reflected lifestyle.

Then the pandemic struck. For the first time in decades, food-at-home spending briefly overtook food-away-from-home spending in 2020 as restaurants closed and delivery took the place of sit-down meals. Cooking was rediscovered in America, but dining establishments continued to appeal. By 2023, spending patterns had drastically changed. According to USDA data, Americans spent the highest percentage of their food budget ever—55.7%—on dining out and takeout. The message conveyed by the average bill was very clear: eating out had evolved from a habit to a priority.

According to the Bureau of Labor Statistics, menu prices increased by 0.3% in July of 2025, as part of a monthly average increase of 0.4%. Nowadays, a casual dinner for two at a sit-down restaurant can cost $75 or more, and the total can reach $90 when a 20% tip is added. Bills are even higher in big cities. Eating out is still an emotionally fulfilling experience, but it has become remarkably effective at draining wallets. The rising cost irritates many Americans, but the majority still pay, arguing that atmosphere, service, and connection make the cost worthwhile.

This trend is shaped by celebrity influence. With dinners starting at $150 per person, Gordon Ramsay’s empire normalizes large checks. The cultural association between status and fine dining is further supported by Jay-Z and Beyoncé’s extravagant dining habits. The idea that a big check is about more than just food—it’s about belonging—is furthered by regular celebrities sharing photos of their dining experiences on Instagram. The typical restaurant bill now reflects both consumption and cultural validation.

Nevertheless, inequality is highlighted by the rising bill. Families in the upper middle class can afford to spend $90 on dinner. It is too high for a lot of working families. Stories of customers leaving $15 burgers because they were too expensive abound in Reddit forums. Despite the skyrocketing prices, one diner commented that the quality of service had “significantly reduced.” Cooking at home significantly improved his finances, and another acknowledged that he had transferred his restaurant budget to rent. These first-hand accounts highlight how the restaurant bill has evolved into social commentary rather than just a financial one.

Nevertheless, Americans still enjoy eating out because it offers special advantages that groceries cannot match. A change of scenery, the atmosphere, and the lack of dishes are all important. Spending is done for birthdays, socializing, and the magic of a meal that cannot be duplicated at home. Despite opposition, the average restaurant bill continues to rise because of this emotional attachment.

In the future, the bill is probably going to keep rising. Checks will increase due to inflationary pressures, growing wages, and service fees, but tipping may eventually reach a breaking point. Customers are already objecting to iPad screens that suggest a 25% tip at the counter. Restaurants are experimenting with “service included” models at the same time, which raise menu prices but do away with gratuities. The future bill might have a different structure, but it won’t be any bigger.

Average Restaurant Bill in the US over the years

How much white household spends on dining out vs non-white in the US

The bill that comes at the end of a meal at a restaurant tells a story about American income, opportunity, and social standing in addition to the cost of the food. According to data, White households routinely spend more on eating out than non-White households, and this disparity effectively illustrates how inequality manifests itself in day-to-day interactions. White households spent nearly $5,000 a year on food away from home in 2023, compared to about $3,200 for non-white households. Although the disparity might not seem like much at first, it is a proportionate reflection of long-standing differences in access, wealth, and lifestyle.

The core of this divide is income. Due to their statistically higher median incomes, white households inherently have more money available for dining out, cafés, and leisure activities. Due to structural financial limitations, non-white households are much less able to make eating out a regular part of their lives. Decades of unequal economic opportunity are reflected in what appears to be a dinner choice. While non-white households view restaurant culture as an occasional or carefully planned indulgence, White households leverage their higher incomes to enjoy it as an extension of their social lives.

Education makes the picture even clearer. White families with college degrees spend significantly more on eating out. Dining out is no longer a luxury but a lifestyle choice as education not only boosts earning potential but also changes habits. The relationship is very evident: more education raises incomes, which in turn encourage more frequent eating out. Due to lower average levels of education, non-white households continue to be more frugal with their out-of-home meal expenditures, frequently allocating funds to necessities rather than indulgences.

The difference is even more noticeable when it comes to tipping customs. Tipping customs have changed over the past few decades, rising from 15% in the 1990s to 18–20% now. White households typically meet those expectations without hesitation because they are more financially comfortable. When adding tips to meals, non-white households—who frequently have tighter budgets—face more challenging trade-offs. In practice, a small percentage on paper becomes a significant burden. This situation demonstrates how even dining manners can exacerbate economic disparities.

Another remarkably similar layer is added to the analysis by geography. White households are frequently found in wealthy areas with a wide variety of dining options, from hip casual restaurants to fine dining establishments. Fast-food restaurants, convenience stores, and inexpensive dining establishments may be all around non-white households, particularly those in lower-income neighborhoods. Just as much as income influences decisions, so does access—or lack thereof. Whether families can enjoy variety or are restricted to convenience is frequently determined by the local dining scene.

 

Celebrities frequently use symbolic representations to highlight this divide. Think about the carefully chosen photos of Chrissy Teigen and Jay-Z spending evenings at upscale restaurants or Beyoncé and Jay-Z dining at Michelin-starred restaurants. Although still aspirational, such experiences feel achievable to many higher-income White households. The possibility is far away for many non-white families, limited by resources rather than desire. Despite being hailed as inclusive, restaurant culture actually reflects exclusivity.

But the story also explores resiliency and inventiveness in addition to limitations. Even though they spend less money overall, non-white households are remarkably successful at using dining to create cultural spaces. Black-owned eateries are frequently patronized by African American families, transforming meals into heritage celebrations. Despite having lower incomes than their white counterparts, Latino households place a high value on social gatherings at family-owned restaurants, such as taquerias. These options may be less expensive overall, but they have very creative social connotations that turn eating out into a sign of identity and community.

Public health is an additional factor. Greater income White households are more likely to spend money on eateries that serve fresher produce and a variety of menu items. Non-white households face menus full of calorie-dense and nutrient-poor options because their dining-out money frequently goes to quick-service or fast food restaurants. These trends eventually turn into health inequalities, which fuel obesity and long-term diseases. Thus, the dining-out bill subtly influences public health outcomes, serving as a reminder that inequality affects long-term wellbeing in addition to financial gain.

However, optimism is still warranted. America’s dining culture is changing quickly, and technology is helping to lower barriers in a surprisingly cost-effective way. Community kitchens, digital ordering platforms, and food trucks are changing how people get their meals. These trends are very effective at giving non-white households new ways to eat restaurant-quality food without breaking the bank. In a similar vein, promoting wage parity and more robust economic policies promises to reduce the spending disparity in the years ahead.

Changes in other industries bear a striking resemblance to the wider cultural ramifications. Innovation in dining is making participation more accessible, much like ride-sharing redefined transportation or streaming revolutionized media access. Despite occasional criticism, delivery services and ghost kitchens enable more households to vary their eating habits without having to pay for formal dining. For non-white households, these innovations are especially helpful because they provide variety without requiring higher incomes.

In the end, the tale of eating out is the tale of America. Because they make more money, reside in places with more options, and encounter fewer structural obstacles, white households spend more. Non-white households spend less because their opportunities are shaped by structural constraints rather than a lack of interest. Nevertheless, eating, whether at a restaurant with a Michelin star or a local takeout, continues to be a unifying cultural touchpoint in spite of these differences.

In what industries Racial Discrimination is most prominent in the US

Civil rights laws have not eliminated racial discrimination, nor have they limited it to specific periods in American history. In some industries, where bias still shapes opportunity, wages, and mobility, it is especially ingrained. These industries demonstrate that inequality is structural and remarkably successful at perpetuating itself generation after generation, rather than being purely coincidental.

One of the most obvious examples is still housing. Credit scores are still impacted by redlining maps from the 1930s. Black neighborhood homes are often tens of thousands of dollars less valuable than comparable homes in white neighborhoods. Compared to their White counterparts, minorities had to ask more questions in order to view rental properties, according to a 2014 meta-analysis. Lost wealth is the direct result of this. Despite having millions of dollars, LeBron James has discussed how Black families are frequently excluded from the generational stability that comes with owning a home. The outcome is very evident: once denied, home values continue to have an impact on future generations.

 

The job market is just as revealing. According to one of the most well-known studies, resumes with names like Emily or Greg got 50% more callbacks than those with names like Lakisha or Jamal. White applicants’ chances were greatly increased more quickly by higher-quality resumes, but Black applicants received little additional advantage. These findings demonstrate the extent to which bias is ingrained in hiring. Although Oprah Winfrey’s story is frequently used as motivation, the truth is that her remarkable ascent is notable because millions of equally talented applicants are turned down before their abilities are even taken into consideration.

Deep disparities are revealed by the healthcare sector, which was established on the promise of healing. Equal treatment could have prevented over 886,000 Black deaths between 1991 and 2000. In pain clinics, White patients with the same symptoms were given half the medication that Black patients received. Even fame, money, and education cannot protect minorities from neglect, as demonstrated by Serena Williams’ near-death experience during childbirth. These incidents highlight a systemic bias that still claims lives; they are not anomalies.

Although education is meant to remove barriers, in reality, it frequently makes them stronger. Compared to school districts with a majority of white students, predominantly minority districts receive $23 billion less in funding annually. Students in underfunded schools frequently experience outdated facilities, fewer extracurricular activities, and harsher disciplinary measures. The effects are not just financial but also psychological. The so-called school-to-prison pipeline is further fueled by the disproportionately high suspension rates of Black and Latino students. Michelle Obama’s advocacy emphasizes the transformative power of education, but it also highlights the fragility of progress in the absence of systemic reform.

Perhaps the area where discrimination is most obvious is the criminal justice system. Black Americans are five times more likely than white Americans to be incarcerated. While the opioid crisis has garnered sympathy and health-focused interventions, Black communities were harshly punished by sentencing disparities during the crack epidemic. Prominent incidents such as the death of George Floyd demonstrate that systemic racism in law enforcement is not just a thing of the past but still exists today. The severity of the issue is also reflected in the voices of artists like Kendrick Lamar, who have transformed this injustice into art by transforming suffering into cultural movements.

Despite being less closely examined, bias still shapes the service and hospitality sectors. Research continuously demonstrates that customer bias results in lower pay, fewer promotions, and smaller tips for workers of color. In a field where structural barriers are remarkably similar to those observed decades ago, chefs like Marcus Samuelsson, who have achieved success and established international reputations, continue to be exceptions. Despite working in fields that value diversity, many workers are unable to advance in their careers due to the wage gap, which is both real and persistent.

Work in trades and construction has a long history of exclusion. Black workers were historically excluded from union membership, which limited their access to safer and higher-paying positions. Minorities still have less access to apprenticeship and advancement opportunities, despite a noticeable improvement in union practices. The agricultural industry tells a similar tale. The USDA routinely refused loans to Black farmers for decades. Millions of dollars in lost generational wealth were discovered in the Pigford v. Glickman case. Numerous Black farming families were deprived of the chance to leave lasting agricultural legacies, and the scars endure despite settlements.

The biases of society are reflected in entertainment and media. African Americans were limited to careers as entertainers, athletes, or criminals for a large portion of the 20th century. Stereotypes were even strengthened by advertising campaigns; in the 1990s, less than 1% of advertisements used African American models. Stars like Denzel Washington and Viola Davis have increased opportunities in the modern era, but they also constantly highlight how few roles are still available to minority actors and directors. Even though representation is getting better, it is still far from equal, and prejudice still determines who gets to tell stories on the biggest stages in America.

The situation is further complicated by politics. Minority communities are disproportionately impacted by voter ID laws and gerrymandering, which limit representation and turnout. African Americans have historically held less than 9% of congressional seats, despite making up more than 13% of the country’s population. Polling station closures in minority neighborhoods make voting logistically challenging, and government reviews have shown that strict ID laws lower minority turnout. The irony is stark: access is still unequally distributed at the core of American democracy.

Racial discrimination is not limited to a single industry, as these trends demonstrate. It is especially prevalent in areas that define American life, such as housing, education, employment, health, justice, culture, and politics. However, these difficulties also present opportunities. Unquestionably, progress is being made, from healthcare leaders reexamining implicit bias to policy reforms addressing gerrymandering. Athletes, celebrities, and regular people are all urging institutions to be more accountable. Although the obstacles are still very great, they are not