At a time when the United States of America seem anything but united, a work that celebrates the diverse cultural and culinary threads that have influenced American cuisine, is a refreshing shift in focus.
Jessica Harris is a pre-eminent culinary historian and a deeply knowledgeable exponent of African American foodways. She is professor emerita at Queens College/C.U.N.Y, a James Beard Foundation Lifetime Achievement Award winner, and received a Peabody Award for her Netflix documentary High on the Hog, based on her book of the same name. In Braided Heritage, her 16th book (I may have lost count), she explores the three principal threads – Indigenous, European and African American — that together form the culinary braid expressed as American cuisine.
Recipes range from the very simple to the complex, each accompanied by anecdotes and historical insights that place a dish within the context of intersecting cultures and foodways. Interspersed among the recipes are short essays on signature ingredients – corn, bison, turkey, apples etc – and cultural events – Juneteenth, Pinkster etc – associated with different communities.
Representing Native Americans, John Barbry, director of development and planning for the Tunica-Biloxi tribe of Louisiana, contributes a recipe for Beef Boulettes and Gravy. The traditional life of the Tunica-Biloxi was changed by colonial contact and the recipe shows the culinary influence of the French, with whom they formed an alliance in 1699. I recognized the meatballs as the boulettes I acquired the recipe for at the Village Quebecois d’Anton in Drummondville, Quebec. The historical recreation of village life from 1810-1930 includes a café serving period-appropriate food. While the meatballs were almost identical, the recipes were quite different, with the simple Quebeçois formula gussied up in New Orleans with a roux and cayenne pepper. Having cooked both, I didn’t think the fancier recipe was sufficiently different in taste to warrant the extra effort but I loved the fact that the recipes illustrated the movement of French-speaking peoples from Canada to the Mississippi Delta and the resulting cross-pollination of foodways.
Harris divides the chapter on The Europeans between the Spanish, British, Dutch and French colonists, with recipes as diverse as Enchiladas Suizas, Charleston Okra Soup and Texas Chile con Carne showing how different European communities influenced and were influenced by local foodways in America. Dutch culinary historian Peter Rose contributes a recipe for Coleslaw with Butter Vinaigrette, a dish that a Swedish botanist reported eating in Albany, New York, in the mid-eighteenth century. We read that the butter was mixed with vinegar and kept warm in a pot by the fire, then used to dress a simple sla (slaw or salad) of shredded kool (cabbage). I found this to be both simple and delicious, not at all out of place in a modern meal.
Salmon Poached in Milk is contributed by Abigail Rosen McGrath, described by Harris as an African American bluestocking who grew up in New York City. A self-described Black Yankee, she was raised on New England foodways, eating fishcakes and baked beans, with little reference to0 the foods of the South. I loved this recipe. Just four ingredients – salmon, onions, milk and butter (plus a magical pinch of nutmeg) – produce a dish of surprising sophistication. The salmon is seared in butter in a skillet then poached in the oven in a sauce made with onions and milk. I streamlined the method, browning the onions in the skillet along with the fish, then adding the milk and poaching the fish in the same pan, with excellent results and less washing up. This is a dish fancy enough to serve to guests and no-one will guess how easy it is to prepare.
I couldn’t resist the glorious sounding Gospel Bird, a roast chicken so named because it was traditionally served after church in African American communities. The bird is slathered with spiced butter and the cavity stuffed with a whole onion. The chicken emerges golden, crisp-skinned and juicy-fleshed. With the leftover meat I made Chicken Croquettes. These were very tasty but would have held together better with a little flour added to the batter. From the same chapter I made Hot Water Gingerbread, a moist dense cake sweetened just enough with dark molasses and brown sugar, and the deceptively delicious Aunt Mary’s Summer Vegetable Dish, which makes the most of seasonal produce. A few rashers of bacon go into the base of a Dutch oven with potatoes, onions, green beans and tomatoes layered on top. The pot is left to simmer undisturbed until the vegetables are tender and their juices have melded into a fragrant broth. With crusty bread on the side, this made a lovely light supper.
Other simple recipes that pleased me greatly were Pickled Beets and Sardine Sandwiches. The beets, says Harris, were a pantry staple in many African American kitchens, a salad or side dish that could be had at any time of year, prepared from either fresh or canned beets. I wasn’t sure if she meant home-canned beets, or store-bought. I used the latter, slicing the beets and marinating them with white vinegar, salt, sugar and thinly sliced onion. I reduced the sugar by half (I don’t like my pickles too sweet), and the result was tangy and moreish. I can see a jar of these crimson beauties being a staple in my kitchen too.
A can of sardines, mixed with a little mayo and hot sauce makes the filling for the sardine sandwiches, which Harris says, caused wrinkled noses when packed in school lunches. Made with today’s higher-quality sardines, they are not as pungent. Harris spreads the mixture between two slices of toasted white bread toast. I made an open-face sandwich on a slice of toasted baguette. For sardine lovers, this a recipe to return to time and again.
The subject matter of this book is deep and thoroughly researched but Harris conveys her erudition lightly. Her writing stye is lively and conversational and as a work of culinary history Braided Heritage is a great read. But recipes are the heart of the book and in the cooking of dishes passed down through generations of Americans whose lineages stretch back to the first encounters with Native peoples this rich heritage is made tangible. All the recipes I tried turned out well but the greater pleasure, as I cut vegetables, stirred pots and carried platters to the table, was reflecting on the lives and stories of the people who had cooked these dishes before me and how profoundly their labour in feeding loved ones has enriched the American table.
