Washington DC
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Markus Samuelsson, the celebrated Ethiopian-Swedish chef, doesn’t talk about African cuisine as something that’s coming. He speaks of it as deeply rooted, spiritually grounded, and quietly confident, as something that has always been here, whether the world is paying attention or not.
“We know our food is great,” Samuelson told CNN’s Larry Madowo. “It’s delicious. It’s connected to our spirituality. It’s connected to our history. So why should the standards come from outside?”
For the award-winning New York City-based chef, restaurateur, and author — who became the youngest chef to earn a three-star review in the New York Times, won first place on Bravo’s Top Chef Masters, cooked for presidents and world leaders, and written several acclaimed cookbooks — that question lies at the heart of how African cuisine has long been misunderstood, and why he believes its future lies in African ownership rather than Western approval.
Samuelson wants to deconstruct the idea that African cuisine is a single narrative and reshape how Africa is discussed within global food culture.
“Africa is a continent,” he says. “Senegalese cuisine is different from Ethiopian cuisine. Moroccan cuisine is different from South African cuisine. But when people talk about Africa, they sometimes talk about it as if it’s one thing.”
That homogenization, he explains, has delayed recognition of Africa’s sophisticated cuisine. This is not because African cuisine does not exist, but because a framework unique to Africa has not been established. “Haute cuisine in Africa is not new to us,” says Samuelsson. “It’s new to the world.”
He says Africa’s food traditions are already built on everything that fine dining values: technology, stories, rituals, community and terroir, and how geography, climate and history shape the unique characteristics of a cuisine. From centuries-old fermentation methods to complex spice blends, depth and sophistication are always present.
“Our food is coastal or inland, tribal or urban,” he says. “It’s a rich history. Enough to set our own guidelines.”
Samuelson’s belief in African culinary leadership is not abstract. He is particularly active in investing in Ethiopia, and recently opened a restaurant on the roof of East Africa’s tallest building in Addis Ababa.
But this project is not meant to be a spectacle.
“If you look down from the restaurant, there’s a small school just a few blocks away,” he says. “Those students are culinary students and now they’re working in restaurants. This is literally a path into hospitality.”
Samuelson said young Africans are too often taught that success means running away to Europe or the United States. “We’re often told, ‘You’ve got talent, you should go to London, you should go to New York,'” he says. “What I’m saying is, you should be able to stay in your country and do well.”
For Samuelson, hospitality is not just about food, but about agriculture, tourism, education and ownership. “When African countries truly understand the value of hospitality, everything changes,” he explains. “It strengthens the economy and builds pride. It gives people a reason to invest domestically.”
Born in Ethiopia and adopted by a Swedish family as a child, Samuelsson grew up experiencing many different cultures, but was often unable to connect with his roots.
“When you’re adopted, you almost live your identity in reverse,” he says. “Food and culture gave me that identity.”
That personal journey has shaped not only the way he cooks, but also the way he leads. Born into an industry that lacks representation, Samuelson learned early on that visibility is important.
“I had never found a cookbook written by someone who looked like me,” he says. “So I thought, if I could have my own kitchen, I would hire women and people of color.”
As his career grew, that belief came with responsibility. During his training in New York’s rigidly hierarchical restaurant kitchens, Samuelson learned that the role of a young chef was simple. It’s about showing up, following orders, and getting a seat. always answering “Yes, Chef,” a phrase that later became the title of his autobiography.
“Young chefs come in and say, ‘Yes, chef,'” he explains. “Owners choose who they hire, who they buy from, and who they invite into the space. That’s where change happens.”
Many chefs who trained under Samuelsson are now opening their own restaurants, including throughout Africa. “That’s what I’m most proud of,” he says.
Setting standards from within
When Samuelson talks about where African fine dining is heading, he often points to music as a blueprint. Afrobeats, Amapiano, and other global sounds first built a loyal audience within the country.
“They didn’t look to the West to create their own culture,” he says. “They just made sure it was great, that it was incredible. And now they’ve set the standard.”
He believes food is on the same trajectory. “We have a population of 1 billion,” Samuelson said. “Why should standards come from outside?”
At his restaurants, from Harlem and Washington, D.C. to Stockholm and Addis Ababa, that philosophy is evident everywhere, from menus that blend traditional cuisine with modern techniques, to music that reflects local culture, to spaces designed to make you feel something.
“When you come to our restaurant, feel welcome,” he says. “You need to realize yourself or discover something new.”
For Samuelson, fine dining is less about speciality and more about meaning.
“No one comes to our restaurant because they’re hungry,” he says. “They’re coming for the experience.”
That experience, he insists, must begin with respect. “I always ask myself: Do I understand the cultural context of this dish?” he says. “If I feel like I don’t fully understand it, I walk away from it.”
As African culture continues to shape fashion, music and art around the world, Samuelson believes food is next.
“The future is in Africa,” he says. “When it comes to fine dining, we don’t need approval. We already have everything we need.”
