Sean Lilly Wilson shares his vision on building a distinct food scene in the Bull City
Tomorrowland is a column in which community members share their visions for Durham’s future. Sean Lilly Wilson is the the chief executive optimist at Fullsteam. He launched the brewery’s original taproom on Rigsbee Avenue in 2010, followed by an expansion to Boxyard RTP in 2021. After closing the Rigsbee location in October 2024, Sean is preparing to open Fullsteam’s new 9,000-square-foot taproom at American Tobacco Campus later this year.
By Sean Lilly Wilson|Photography by John Michael Simpson
I moved to Durham in 1992 as a product of the suburbs: Philadelphia as a kid, Chicago for college and a post-grad summer in Dallas.
Why Durham? In short: love. I had just started dating Carolyn – now my wife of more than 30 years – and I was eager to grow something beyond a college romance.
I took a job as a server – first at Parizade, then for three formative years at Magnolia Grill, where I voraciously learned about persimmons, hoppin’ John and fried green tomatoes. I absorbed the stories, the food, the spirit of the region. It was my job to talk about farms and farmers, seasonal ingredients and recipes rooted in a sense of place. And even though I was “just” a waiter, that experience still shapes my work at Fullsteam, where we connect people to the land and to one another through our beer and food. I sincerely doubt I would have started Fullsteam in 2010 had I not been a waiter at Magnolia in 1992.
Today, “farm-to-table” is so mainstream it’s almost passe. Durham’s culinary scene is vibrant – but sometimes I wonder if our identity is more about how well we replicate food from other places.
“I miss the bagels from back home.”
“Where can I get a real beef-on-weck?”
“There’s a new Cincinnati chili place opening up!”
I get it. We all long for the flavors that shaped us. (I flipped out the first time I saw a pork roll at the old Kroger on Hillsborough Road.) But there’s a difference between celebrating variety and defining ourselves by comparison. It feels like a kind of culinary insecurity – the idea that we’re legit because our [insert regional dish] is [as good as / nearly as good as / not quite as good as] what you’d get in [wherever].
It’s the “wherever” that worries me most. If I have a vision for Durham’s food future, it’s that we celebrate what’s already from here. That we stop trying to be Anycity, USA – and double down on being Durham.
In other words: What’s Durham’s version of beef-on-weck? I’m not sure we have one.
To me, Southern Progress means celebrating Isaac’s bagels, Goorsha‘s doro wat and Cheeni‘s Indian-infused cocktails. But it also means thanking (with our dollars) Saltbox for its unwavering support of North Carolina’s coastal fishing community. Grabbing lunch at the ever-steady Chicken Hut. Supporting Byrd’s and Picnic, who favor humble Carolina whole-hog barbecue over Insta-friendly Texas trays.
Instead of, “That was a solid version of something I can get in New York,” I want visitors to leave Durham saying, “Wow. I’ve never had anything like that before.”
I miss the oxtail at Honey’s. Who’s got it on the menu?
