Pam, Queen of the Food Desert

Pam, Queen of the Food Desert
Dan Mojica mans the chili roaster / Photo by Shaun Treat

By Shaun Treat

The smell of roasting hatch chilis on the back patio of Dan’s Silverleaf during a below-90’ summer afternoon – frosted pint glass in hand and fans a’blowin’ while Waylon Jennings croons on speakers inside – just may be as close to Heaven as some of us are likely to experience.

Dan Mojica, the longtime owner of the venue that’s been the main stage for the Denton music scene for more than two decades, cranks the roasting tumbler like a sweaty cowboy-hatted man on a mission, driven by ye gods-know-what to hover over the hotbox for hours to deliver this seasonal mana for his assembled faithful. His trusty partner in this Quixotic enterprise is the ever-effervescent Pam Chittenden, animating lively conversation with her signature smoky laugh and a dangling lit cigarette as she weighs out Dan’s roasted hatch chilis into Ziploc bags. This dynamic duo is about as close to Denton royalty as we get but, while

Dan’s journey into Denton music infamy has been fairly well charted over the decades, Pam has (for me at least) been a bit more of a mystery. Cold pint in hand, I figured to rectify this situation and track some breadcrumbs for the archives.

Even casual Denton foodies know damn well who Pam is. PamFood pop-up meals at the Paschall Bar are much-anticipated and highly sought-out affairs. In fact, the next brunch soiree is scheduled for Sunday August 18 if you’re lucky enough to get into the always-capacity event. Since I am interested in the past, and was willing to bribe her with her drink of choice, Pam graciously agreed to spill some secrets

So what is the origin story of PamFood, I ask? “Oh Lord, that’d be Jim’s Diner (on Fry Street),” Pam smiles. “I started there as a cashier, a really horrible cashier,” she chuckles, “But sweet Jim just pulls me aside and says I might be happier in the kitchen where I’m not sassing the customers.” It was over that stove that Pam honed her short- order chef fundamentals, but the real master class as chef came in the 80s at The Riviera, then known for its “Best Chefs” as designated by Food and Wine Magazine. After 3 years, though, Pam quit. Why, I ask? “Well maybe I got tired of being told what to do and how to do it,” Pam shrugs; “I lived in Argyle at the time so when the Classic Café in Roanoke offered me a job to basically do whatever I wanted in their kitchen, I took it.” Pam recalls these times as “The Golden Years” when she accumulated a devoted following and a kitchen crew who would follow whatever whims and side-hustle catering jobs she chased. “Those were the Denton PriceMaster days,” she recalls fondly, “and every night Nathan, Lucy, and Heather Grace would hang out after close.” 

Roasted hatch chilis / Photo by Shaun Treat

After getting fired from a stint at Ellingtons on the Denton Square in the mid-90s, Dan’s Silverleaf opened its doors and she was asked to help out with foodie offerings to drive more business there. “Dan and I were neighbors and both just divorced,” Pam tells me with a twinkle in her eye, “So of course we became lovers and I was cooking at his bar on an electric stovetop until the city got snotty about it and shut that down.” She giggles: “Not that it stopped a fucking thing for very long, though!” Catering allowed her as much or as little as she cared to do between regular work. 

It was around this time that “Pam Food” became a known Denton commodity. “I can’t take credit for PamFood, that was Andrew Hime,” Pam explains; “He started calling my pop-ups that and it stuck.” From there, Pam has had a spatula involved with a who’s- who of renowned restaurants in Denton. “You ever seen the movie The Big Night? Opening was just like that, absolute insanity.” When the Wildwood Inn opened, they lured Pam as head chef there until she “lost my shit in a tiff” and quit, only to be lured back again briefly when ownership changed before eventually getting fired. Pam also helped George at The Cupboard to design their much beloved menu, also becoming a pretty regular wedding caterer for “Dan’s Bar of Love.” Pam worked for awhile at Paschall’s Bar until the kitchen arrangement made it untenable (although she says she pretty much shows up anytime Eric Pudillo or Scott Hawthorne asks), then worked for “the absolutely wonderful Kim McKibben” at Aura Coffee for three years. When the COVID-19 pandemic brought everything to a standstill in 2020, however, “A really deep fuck-it set in,” Pam says; “I loved the downtime, actually, and found fewer fucks to give.” At this, Pam stares me squarely in the eyes and turns serious. “I was reminded of some great advice a mentor gave me when he told me once-upon-a-time: Pam, you can’t shine your light so bright.” As I began to protest this seemingly terrible guidance, Pam gently waves me off. “No no, he is right,” she declares; “People can be vampires, sucking the light right out from you. Now Dan, he gains energy from others but I can let myself get drained dry if I’m not careful, and that’s a good thing to know about yourself.” 

These days, Pam pretty much cooks when she wants to as the menu Chef for The Juicy Pig Barbeque with owner Ken Currin since 2016, and she is working on compiling a cookbook of her own. She begins to excitedly tell me about some of her favorite recipes and the vivid memories they conjure up, and boy do I see her light shining bright! We laugh about her MeeMaw’s “Angel Biscuits” recipe that was handed down with directions so vague as to be a Zen koan. “Now don’t you be baking them too long, or too little,” Pan chortles; “How much Flour? Well, you want them to be thick but not too thick!” The hearty laughter evokes another important insight gleaned from decades of PamFood: “The lesson to learn here is you just gotta find your own way in life, y’know?” 

As the crowd picks up, and devotees flock for an audience with Queen Pam and the freshly roasted hatch chilis she’s doling out, I politely excuse myself and thank her for her generous time sharing stories. As we exchange information, I ask Pam if it’s okay to solicit memories from others who knew her back when. “Oh of course, dear,” Pam smiles; “But just know that if it happened in a kitchen with me, cursing will be involved!”