By Emma Schwichtenberg

For those who have followed Tribal Legacy from the beginning, Jimaine Miller, better known as Def Chef, is a name that resonates deeply. As one half of the Stahi Brothas, alongside Vitamin D, Miller helped shape the local hip-hop scene during the formative years of the Ghetto Children. Back in the '90s, Miller was not only cooking up beats but also literally cooking, a passion that has only grown stronger over time.

Today, the chef who made his mark in Hip Hop Kitchen has fully embraced his culinary identity, though his roots in music remain just as influential. Miller has found a way to seamlessly blend his love for both music and cooking, channeling his creativity into the kitchen while keeping his ear to the ground in the studio. Although he has no plans to release another mixtape inspired by local produce, he hinted that new music is on the horizon.

Converge Music spoke with Miller as he opened up about his evolution from rapper to chef, his latest culinary ventures, and what’s next on his plate.

I know that being a chef is your primary job, but let's focus a bit on the music first. How did you get started in music?

I got started in music through freestyling and battle rapping. Back then, battle rapping was different. You didn’t plan it out; you’d just run into someone who also rapped, and either you'd bounce off each other or it would turn into a battle—there was no middle ground. I probably started rapping around age 11, but I didn’t make my first piece of music until I was about 18.

How did you transition from just freestyling and battling with people on the street to actually wanting to produce music?

It happened when I started hanging out with people who took it seriously. They were writing their rhymes, creating hooks, adding ad-libs, and developing concepts. When you freestyle, it’s tough to make it sound as cohesive as a curated rap. Seeing these guys, who were younger than me, but already deep into the process, with studios set up and material ready to go, made me realize, “Oh, this is really music.”

Who were some of the people that guided you on that path?

The person who really got me on that path was Vitamin D, Derrick Brown. There were also others—DV One, Bill Self, Word Sayer, Chase, and even Sir Mix-a-Lot. People can say what they want, but he was a huge influence. I wasn’t necessarily trying to emulate him, but if I had the means, I probably would’ve been all about the fur coats and Ferraris. Those were my main local influences, along with whatever was going on in hip-hop at the time.

So, what was that first album or single you made at 18?

It was actually a talent show, and honestly, it was garbage. I didn’t really have a concept of what I was doing. But that experience taught me that this isn’t something you just do—you have to dedicate time, put thought into it, and really care. You can’t just think you’re dope and expect that to be enough. You’ve got to be willing to rap even when you don’t feel like it. If studio time is booked and people are expecting you to lay down bars, you’ve got to show up. I learned a lot during that time, especially since the studio was in his mom’s basement—not some separate, fancy building.

Shout out to his mom, by the way. We used to go in the fridge without asking—it got to the point where she’d just leave the bottom door unlocked. We’d be there even when he wasn’t home, and she’d recognize who was there by the music we played. His whole family was musically inclined.

How did you end up connecting with him?

Well, I was attending a different high school, but I got caught doing some dumb stuff and got kicked out. So, I had to transfer to Garfield High School, even though I’m from 27th and Alder and didn’t originally go there. I met him in gym class, but we really connected during a cipher. Everyone was rapping, and I thought, "Okay, this guy raps too." He was rapping with this other dude named Bill Self—one of the best rappers I’ve ever heard, and I’ve heard a lot. Bill was the one who made me realize I wasn’t that good at rapping back then. But I got better.

In that cipher, they already had material, bouncing off each other’s lines. One would say six bars, and the other would finish with two—it was tight. I didn’t even know they were a group. I wasn’t really privy to that kind of stuff because I played sports a lot. I’d see the graffiti guys or the breakdancers after practice, but I had to go home, so I wasn’t around hip-hop much.

At what point did you form the Stahi Brothas?

Yeah, the Stahi Brothas—that’s just me and Vitamin, the guy I’ve been telling you about. I fell in with them because I started recording and hanging out with them. When you hang out long enough, you become part of the crew, depending on the crew. Vitamin and B-Self had a group called Ghetto Children—so, I was kind of an extra member, but I’m only on like one song. But when they performed, I’d be on stage, mouthing the words, whatever. Then me and Vitamin started making songs together. He hired this engineer named K-Still, back when the studio was near Lumen Field. Me and Vitamin, we smoke a lot—that’s one of our bonding things. So, K-Still came in one day and said, "Man, you guys are like the Stay High Brothers—you just stay high." Vitamin and I looked at each other, nodded, and decided to add "The" in front. So, we became The Stahi Brothers. We already had a bunch of songs together, but that’s how we got the name, thanks to our friend and engineer.

I meant to ask, where did the name Def Chef come from?

The Def Chef name comes from my cooking classes. I’m a mentor, and I started teaching food through rap. At first, I’d just rap about food to the kids, and they enjoyed it. Sometimes they’d even try foods they normally wouldn’t, just because they found it entertaining. Eventually, it evolved into actual classes where I wasn’t rapping the whole time. But yeah, that’s how I became the Def Chef.

So, at what point between being part of The Stahi Brothas and becoming Def Chef did the idea of doing rap classes or rapping about cooking come about? That’s really interesting and not something you hear about every day.

That’s a great question. It’s actually another Vitamin story. He was working on a project called Hip Hop Kitchen with a performer named Dice—she’s an amazing singer and a solid rapper too. The project was supposed to be a mixtape with some local artists and some more general hip-hop songs, all focused on food. He might have something from KRS-One on there, or a track about eating healthy with Dead Prez, for example. Everyone had a part. We had a song called "Come and Get Served" off a short mix called Local Produce, where it was three groups with three different songs, but he mixed them into one track.

So, me and Vitamin had this song about food, and even though I already cooked, after we did that track, I thought, "Yeah, I’m about to start making raps about food." I realized I needed a food-related rap name. I went through a bunch of ideas and then landed on Def Chef. I knew it was the one, so I went ahead and got a logo and everything. But yeah, Def Chef started off as a music project—it wasn’t supposed to be an actual persona. It was just meant for that record. I wanted to do a food album and be Def Chef just for that. But now, it’s who I am. People I grew up with call me Def Chef.

I have to ask—what was the first food song you guys did? What were you rapping about in it?

We were basically talking about how good we could cook and how our palate was better than everyone else’s. It was like a hood snob foodie song. 

What was the name of the song?

The song is called "Local Produce" off of Hip Hop Kitchen. And yeah, it’s funny, because even in Hip Hop Kitchen, I had little parts where I’d just come in, talking, yelling, and being obnoxious. You’ll hear it.

Okay, so I think we need to talk a little more about the food side of things. I know you transitioned into it through rapping about it, but when did food become the primary focus for you?

The food situation really started at a festival called Umoja Fest. I noticed a bunch of kids just hanging around the booths, not getting in line or buying anything. They were just standing off to the side, and I realized they probably didn’t have any money. In that kind of environment, you don’t expect people to be handing out money left and right. Most folks are there for themselves, and these events are more like luxury deals. So if you’re there with no money, that’s just how it is.

I thought to myself, "What would I want someone to do for me?" I saw what was going on, and I figured I could help out. I had my little grill with me, so I went and bought a bunch of stuff—hot wings, hot dogs, burgers, chips, waters, and juice. It was nothing fancy; everything was bought, not homemade. I started cooking, and I went over to those kids and asked if there were others around. They said yes, so I told them to bring them over. Soon enough, we had a whole group, and I was just doing it—feeding them because I could.

Then I met a woman named Ariel Bangs, who runs an organization called Plant-Based Food Share. What she was doing really intrigued me. I asked her about it, and she explained that she specialized in food justice. I had never heard of a food desert or even the concept of cooking out of love rather than just for money. Up until then, I was just doing it to make a buck. Sure, I’d look out for kids who reminded me of myself, but I didn’t think much beyond that.

Ariel started teaching me about the energy in food and the broader implications of feeding people. I began to understand, and soon enough, I was feeding the general public, hearing their stories, and realizing how much it meant to them. It’s not glamorous work; it’s time-consuming and often not that rewarding, but it feels like the right thing to do.

So, I started doing more of it. Chef Ariel Bangs was running these programs at various community centers. One of them was at Rainier Valley Leadership Academy, where I’m still teaching today. She asked me to sub for her, and I thought it was just a temporary gig. But I kept going back week after week. Eventually, I asked her when she was coming back to her class, and she told me, "Those kids don’t know me; that’s your class now." She had tricked me into taking over, but it worked out. I’ve since expanded the program to multiple schools, including a Kidus Montessori school in the Central District. I’m currently trying to grow the program even further for the general public.

The program she tricked you into running?

[Laughs] Yeah, pretty much. It was her cooking class, something like "Healthy Creations Cooking." I was going in, thinking that’s what we were doing, and I even called it that at first. But she had her own plans, and it just took off from there.

By the way, what did you name your program?

Def Chef Kitchen.

Even now, would you say the best way to get a job is by accident?

Yeah, definitely by accident. We're still doing Def Chef Kitchen, but we've also created a vendor's market called the Prince Hall Marketplace. It's held at the Prince Hall Masonic Temple on 23rd—well, technically 24th—next to the Walgreens. We’re also forming a vendor's union because many vendors have ambition but lack the knowledge of where to go or what events to participate in.

Right now, I’m working on the logistics of it all. Let’s say we have 40 vendors in the union, all paying dues and sharing resources. But you still have to find venues and estimate costs. What if that’s already done for you? Just like a welder, longshoreman, or educator knows where they’re going, we can set up the same thing for vendors. We could even have our own market, hopefully weekly, but starting bi-weekly. If a vendor has another event that day, they can skip the market, giving another vendor an opportunity. We want it to be a rotating system where whoever is available can participate.

We’re also working on a farm-to-table concept. I haven’t talked much about this yet, but since we’re in an interview, it’s likely to roll out in September. We’re talking straight-up foraging, harvesting, and ensuring that the food is as fresh as possible. For example, if we’re serving fish on Friday, I want it caught on Wednesday. The same goes for vegetables—I want them harvested the night before or the morning of. The idea is to challenge ourselves and adapt to what’s available, not relying on canned goods unless absolutely necessary. We’ve done some demos already, and this concept is being developed for Kidus Montessori.

What’s your favorite thing to cook?

Oh, wow, that’s tough. I’d say anything I’m not really good at cooking yet, but that I like. Lately, I’ve been really into Turkish and Mediterranean dishes. I love the flavors—onions, tomatoes, cucumbers, olive oil, parsley, and whole cuts of meat that are marinated, diced, and cooked over fire. It’s awesome. Before this, I was really into Mexican food, and I still love it, but Mediterranean cooking is my current favorite.

I noticed you're wearing an apron right now. Were you coming from work?

Yeah, I just came from doing breakfast and lunch for Kidus Montessori, and now I’m about to head to Rainier Valley Leadership Academy for Taco Tuesday. After that, I’ll be doing a demo at a community center.

Busy day, huh?

Yeah, very busy.

Are you still working in music, or are you mostly focused on this?

Yes, I’m still in music. The Stahi Brothas and Jules Esquire are about to start a new project. We’re literally starting this week.

Can you give us any hints about the project? Probably not food-related?

No, definitely not food-related. If you’ve heard any of our music, you’d know it’s probably better if it’s not about food. 

Keep an eye out for new music currently in the works, and follow Miller on Instagram @thadefchefreloaded.