The Last Supper of Harlem
The Last Supper of Harlem The basement of the Blue Note smelled like smoke and gin and the particular brand of desperation that only exists in a city where the law says one thing and the culture says another. May "Chili" Chen stood at the stove in her basement kitchen and did what she had been doing every night since 1923: she cooked food that made people tell the truth. It wasn't magic. May's...
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