The following is an extended version of the interview published in our June issue, heading to newsstands soon.
Photo by Jay Paul
Chef Tye Hall, a 38-year-old military veteran, a former nurse and a West Philadelphia-born and -bred badass, found solace and strength in the kitchen when she needed it most. She brings a seasoned, soulful aura to her cooking at T&R Catering — a business she owns with her husband of 20 years, Reggie, along with a budding hemp-based food company, Gourmet Hemp Foods. The mother of three considers cheffing it up to be her "labor of love.”
Richmond magazine: When did you join the military?
Tye Hall: I graduated high school at 16, and my mom was in the military, so she signed me over. I turned 18 in Fort Jackson.
RM: Why did you join so young, and what was that experience like?
Hall: I was an early mom through situations I couldn’t control — I was sexually assaulted and needed to get away from circumstances, and Philly seemed like a dead end. After graduating, I knew I couldn’t stay there and saw my mom in the military and how she could travel. I knew it would be a better life for me and my son. I left and never looked back.
RM: Where did you meet your husband?
Hall: We met in Korea in January of ’99. I remember because that’s when The Hot Boyz' “Bling, Bling” was out — they had just come on the scene.
RM: How has your relationship been over the years?
Hall: He has put socks on my feet for the past 20 years. I don’t get out of bed in the morning until he does it. I told him, “Don’t start stuff with me you aren’t going to finish.” At the end of the day, no one will be there for me the way he is. Then being in the kitchen together became a new language for us, like a love language, and now we’re a husband-and-wife team.
RM: What sparked your cooking career?
Hall: In 2010 after my grandmother passed away. Before she passed, she said, “I’m proud of what you have done … but I want you to do something that makes you happy.” She gave me a blessing to go to school and become a chef. A year and a half later, my uncle passed. When I walked into the classroom, the instructor’s name was Kevin Nanna — my uncle's name [was] Kevin, and I called my grandma Nana. I [had] just had “Nanar” tattooed on me. It was a goosebump moment, and I knew I was in the right place.
RM: What was your childhood like, being raised by your grandmother?
Hall: I grew up in a speakeasy. My house was the place where Grandma sold dinners out of the house; people came and played poker once a week and sold liquor and wine. The window in my room only came up to the height of a 40-ounce [bottle of beer]. We had a cigarette machine. I remember growing up around buckets of money. My grandfather was a master mason, and we had a smokehouse in our kitchen and six fridges filled with beer or meat. I always knew [how] to cook for people, that’s what I grew up doing, that was my upbringing.
RM: What was one of the most valuable lessons your grandmother taught you in the kitchen?
Hall: My grandmother had this thing where she didn’t measure anything. She said, “Sprinkle it until your ancestors tell you to stop.” As you cook, you know what it looks like and smells like, and [she] always said, once you get in tune, that happens.
RM: What would you consider one of your signature dishes?
Hall: My Arabian spinach.
RM: What was it like feeding people during the government shutdown?
Hall: We went out there three times, and it was crazy to see how many people were affected. We fed 11,400 families. We didn’t do it to take pictures — this is our labor of love, we’re not in this to become famous or rich, we’re here to [serve]. You have to serve to get back into the kingdom. I served this country in the military, as a nurse I served our sick, and as a chef I’m serving food.
RM: How has it been working with hemp and food?
Hall: It’s been a learning curve. It’s very exciting to be at the [forefront] of this movement. I know my mark will be made, and I’m doing a thing that is having an identity crisis, and it’s about being able to debunk the stereotypes. I model myself after Alton Brown — I need to know the science behind it. But this plant that people have gone to jail for can clothe you, house you, feed you and heal you; it’s amazing.
