New year, same pandemic, and Luis Patiño is doing what he can. Which is everything he can.
"I am super-grateful that I am able to wake up every single day and do what I love — cutting vegetables and washing dishes," said Patiño, who owns Café Racer Kitchen in Minneapolis.

Like so many small-business people, Patiño adapted to the rolling catastrophes of 2020. He changed his business model, he innovated, he applied for every grant and grabbed at every lifeline his community tossed him. He had rent to pay, he had payroll to meet, he had food to put on your table. He had vegetables to chop.
"The amount of vegetables I have to cut is the hope I have," Patiño said. "I hope that I sell this much food. I hope that I can put out this much product."
As COVID-19 endangered his staff, his customers and the business he'd built up from a food truck, Patiño tried everything. He lined up a contract to make school lunches for local charter schools; he shifted his business to carryout; he offered heat-and-eat meals so people could fill their ovens with pulled pork, arepas or sweet fried plantains. The comfort foods of Patiño's native Colombia, comforting his hometown of Minneapolis.
When Hennepin County threw him a lifeline, he grabbed it. Since May, the county has given out more than $46 million in grants — backed by CARES Act dollars and state pandemic relief funds — to help more than 4,600 small businesses and nonprofits hurt by the shutdowns, recession and unrest of the past year. Last week, the county began sifting through 3,700 applications for a fifth round of small-business aid.
Nearly half the county's aid so far has gone to minority-owned businesses. It was a conscious decision by a community with a glaring racial wealth gap — and an ugly history of discrimination, racial covenants and ramming highways through Black business districts.
Only 10% of Hennepin County's businesses are minority-owned. Hennepin County was going to save as many as it could.