By Peggy Sturdivant

At a holiday party a woman asked me where I get ideas for my columns. “Do people send you suggestions?” The short answer would be yes. I gave her the long version, which could be summarized to, “it varies every week.”

I told her about the next column I’d be writing. How I’d seen a door-sized drawing of a bird at Ballard Mailbox, and tracked down the artist to learn more about his work, which appeared to be on a chalkboard. The bird was signed Dozfy; Ballard Mailbox knew he lived next door. I told the woman that I’d found an email for the artist online and that we were going to meet.

A few nights later my husband went with me to meet the artist and his wife at Brimmer & Heeltap, the gastropub that opened on the hallowed ground of the former Le Gourmand. Its 27-year owner Bruce Naftaly had warned us that very morning, “You’ll find the layout disconcerting.” The layout wasn’t the only thing that was disconcerting. We were meeting people we’d never met, invited to join them while he did menu art.

I didn’t want to show my ignorance by asking beforehand, “What is menu art?” In an email Patrick Nguyen mentioned that he posts his menu art on Instagram. (At least I’ve heard of Instagram). I still pictured menus as the big lists above and behind the counter in many a coffee shop. As we stood in the restaurant foyer my phone received a text message.

“We are straight ahead in the corner. The Asian couple and I’ll be drawing on a plate.”

A plate?

So began our dinner with Patrick Nguyen and Jen Chiem.

We faced each other across the table, divided by our respective generations, the Baby Boomers and the Millennials, no Generation Xers to bridge the gap. What most separates our generations is our relationship with technology and the Internet; but good food and love of eating goes far in creating a bridge.

The term millennial has been coined to describe those born after 1980, who came into young adulthood around the year 2000. They are the generation that has almost always had access to digital devices, from their music players through their Smartphones. Facebook is passé. Patrick Nguyen is the first person I’ve met who explains some of his habits, saying, “I’m a millennial” as though that explains it.

Nguyen took Brimmer & Heeltap’s paper menu and blackened most of it. While we made small chat he opened a photograph of a bird on his phone and began drawing on the menu with a white acrylic paint pen. The large bird that I’d seen at Ballard Mailbox is what he calls one of his murals. His menu art is quite simply that, creating art on a menu which he signs with his artist name, photographs, and posts online immediately through his Instagram account.

As ‘Dozfy’ Nguyen has followers on Instagram who probably get an alert that he has posted a photograph of his latest work. Back in Atlanta he had followers who would then appear at the restaurant where he was eating and drawing. Nguyen says it started partly as something to do in restaurants; all his life he has been drawing on any nearby surface. He didn’t sign his works until he realized someone else was taking credit for them. “Sometimes a restaurant will post a photograph of the menu in their kitchen; that’s cool.”

After finishing the menu, Patrick drew on a plate. It’s an example of what he will be doing for an Arts Corps: Arts Education in Seattle fundraiser at the restaurant in February. Throughout that event he will draw on plates purchased by attendees. Once again looking at a photograph online he did a line drawing of a pinecone.

Martin and I told Patrick & Jen about the restaurant’s history and our respective histories in Seattle. The couple has only been here for about a year; Patrick was in Atlanta, Georgia and Jen was finishing her studies in Rochester, New York. He’s chatty. She’s quiet. They like to eat out and his menu art is partly a way to give back to the kitchen, a thank you from the front of the house to the back (he’s worked in restaurants). Sometimes his work leads to murals such as he’s done for Cupcake Royale and still does in Atlanta. He has a degree in art, but it’s not his day job.

He admits that having followers went to his head when he was in Atlanta. Once he didn’t have any money to tip a valet so he offered him one of his sketches. In his rearview mirror he saw the valet crumple up the drawing. “That cured me,” he said. Patrick told us that his mother didn’t use to value his art the way that she does now. She follows his work assiduously, although not through an Instagram account, “I’m not really sure how actually.”

After we’ve paid our bills and said goodbyes, something occurs to Patrick, as he realizes we really don’t know the online image world of Instagram. “Then how did you find me?”

“I saw your artist signature and searched online.”

“Oh,” he said. “Good to know.”

The bird has gone to the kitchen; the prototype pinecone plate is going home with them to their waiting dog. It’s been a lovely evening but as my husband says later, “I still don’t really understand the point of menu art.” We’re not millennials.