Life is Service: Chef Ricky Moore x Saltbox Seafood Joint
(1/2) “I am just a country boy at heart. I suppose growing up on the Carolina coast will do that. I’ve worked tobacco farms, potato farms, and the like. I was the oldest grandchild. Man, my grandparents doted on me. I was surrounded by elders, ate with the elders, and learned from them too. My grandma cooked lunch at school, back when the lunch ladies really cooked those meals from scratch – lasagna, lightning rolls, all the good stuff. I still remember the big family breakfasts, church meals, and cookouts. I’d get off the school bus and an older WW2 vet would take care of me until my parents got home. I can still smell that potbelly stove simmering. I ate what the grown folks ate, and they cooked with so much love. Food can bring joy like few things can.
Even with all that good cooking, young Ricky thought he was going to be an artist, or a b-boy, or something like that. You’d find me watching Bob Ross and painting away. I was good at it too. I even had an art scholarship to go to ECU, but it didn’t feel like the right path for me.
I took the chance on the military like my father. It was my way out. The recruiter told me being a military cook was the fastest way to get promoted. You can be a sergeant by 19. It wasn’t desirable, but I knew I could raise the ranks quickly. So that’s what I did. I started cooking, and I never stopped. No matter where my journey took me, people would say, ‘Man, he worked hard.’ Everyone witnessed the work I put in. I wanted to know everything there was to know about cooking and to learn from the best.
All these years later, I feel like it’s my first day on the job. I’ve never gotten burned out. Not when times were rough, and not when they were handing me the James Beard Foundation’s Best Chef award.
If young Ricky saw me today, he’d say, “I am so proud of you; you had courage – the faith that it would all work out. You floated when you needed to float, allowed things to happen organically, and trusted that hard work would lead you to the right place and man, you are in the right place.’”
(2/2) “In the military, we worked hard. Up at 4:30 a.m., shirts pressed, shoes shined, in line, ready for inspection. Then we’d cook. Everything had a regimen, but we cooked with purpose and pride. Our meals weren’t just sustenance—they were morale boosters, especially during holidays like Thanksgiving and Christmas. A good meal could nourish more than the body; it could lift spirits and bring joy like only food can.
When I was leaving the military, an officer told me I should attend the Culinary Institute of America. It was made for veterans like me. Upstate New York’s cold weather and the support the state provided veterans allowed me to focus completely on my studies. I learned the history of food, the ins-and-outs of classical cookery. I already knew how to cook for thousands, but I didn’t understand the “how” or “why.” The artist in me finally had the tools to create, to tell stories through food, to honor my heritage.
One day, I got headhunted to open a restaurant in Dubai, and next thing you know, I was flying first class to Singapore. That trip changed my life. The open-air markets showed me that you don’t need much to serve amazing food and suddenly I was okay leaving the fine dining space. I realized a small space can still produce beautiful meals that tell a story, and that is what really made me settle back here in my home state.
I started Saltbox with $5,000, a dream, and a love for work. Saltbox became my apprenticeship in entrepreneurship, and I quickly learned the challenges of running a business. Paying bills, managing books—it was hard. But I think that’s why I succeeded. There was no plan B; I had to push through every obstacle. I’ve been robbed, held at gunpoint, but I kept going. I wanted to build a spot for the community.
When people drive by Saltbox, they think it’s been here forever. That’s when you know a place really belongs. Whether you come here every Friday, are a part of the lunch regulars, or come once in a blue moon, we are here for you, to feed you, and to give you the best local seafood there is. You see, all these plaques, articles, awards on the wall, they don’t just belong to me. They belong to you, too.”
— Chef Ricky Moore
Owner+Founder: @saltboxseafoodjoint
Photo series: Life is Service
Pt 11.
Photographed + Interviewed by: Jordan Abdur-Ra’oof @shotbyjbot
Location:
Saltbox Seafood Joint
2637 Durham-Chapel Hill Blvd.
Durham, NC 27707
Indoor & Outdoor Dining