It shames me to admit that the first time I interviewed Michael Bowling was in 2017.
I’d been covering food in Charlotte for almost 30 years, but I would have been hard pressed to name a single Black chef here. Oh, I knew Walter Royal at the Angus Barn in Raleigh. Everybody did—Royal was the only big-name Black chef in the state who didn’t make barbecue.
Then came Soul Food Sessions, a semi-regular dinner series organized by Black chefs such as Greg Collier, then mostly known as the chef and owner of The Yolk in Rock Hill, and Jamie Barnes and Greg Williams of a food truck called What the Fries, and a pastry chef named Jamie Suddoth. And Michael.
I sat down to interview Bowling and came away schooled by a man who bore my ignorance with patience, happy to talk straight about what it takes to be a Black chef in a city that was still whiter than it wanted to admit.
Michael had cooked all over Charlotte by that time. He was like the food version of a session drummer—the reliable guy who can keep a beat but is secretly capable of outplaying the star if he gets the chance.
Black chefs started to break out in Charlotte, finally getting the attention they deserved. Bowling did, too. He did a pop-up one night at a short-lived bar called the Queen and Glass that floored me with the mastery of his cuisine.
By that time, Bowling was also fighting for his health. Chef isn’t an easy life. He had already had one kidney transplant; he told me once that his food truck cost him a second one. He played through pain, a lot. Those of us who knew it worried about him, a lot.
He kept going so long, it started to seem like Michael would never cave in. We watched, breath held, for the last few weeks, certain Bowling would pull through one more time.
He didn’t.
On Sunday, at age 51, Michael Bowling succumbed to the years of abuse that the kitchen life had heaped on him. When his light went out, a lot went with him: Smarts. Humor. Kindness. A mischievous smile. And the best hugs, even when he had a stint or a drip line in his arm.
Bowling’s sister, Joy, who was as much a presence at food events as he was, says the family hasn’t made plans for his memorial yet. His sons are on their way back here. Personally, I’ll always regret the years I could have been covering Michael, back before he made sure I knew better.
Chef Michael will be truly missed by the community. He was always a honest, heartfelt, and caring person. I always appreciated his determination to look for what was next no matter what he had going on in his personal life!
The City’s dining scene is still whiter and more male dominated that it should be. I hope we see that continue to change in ways that would make him proud.