Our Grandmothers Were Green

On the original cover of her classic memoir-cookbook The Taste of Country Cooking, Ms. Edna Lewis stands, lithe and muscular, in a green field looking over the fruit shc's selected for making a meal. Her face is serene and contemplative. She's magnetic and seems to beam though she is not smiling. Her hair, perhaps lightly hotcombed, is as natural as the food she puts on her table. She wears the long, cottony silver strands brushed away from her face and tucked in a neat chignon gathered in back of her head. Contrasting with her simple, starched cotton dress Miss Edna's only flourish is a pair of dangling ornate silver earrings that lend a little of the Far East to her look.

Music. Food. Writing. It's said that all of these absorb all of the elements and energy that go into the making of them. When I see Ms. Edna's face and read what she has to say, it brings me calm because I get a sense of some of those things that went into the making of her. She is earthy and elegant, full of culture, memory and vitality. The kind that Alice Walker writes about in "Longing to Die of Old Age" (from Living By the Word). A foremother to ones like Dori Sanders.

A friend who knows how much I take to heart Jessica Harris' words that "There is history in the pot," recently sent me this "What is Southern?" piece, a prose poem/letter written by Edna Lewis and published a couple years back in Gourmet magazine. I'm sharing with the hope that we all enjoy, remember, preserve and do all we can to pass forward these traditions. Even if it's just telling the story that begins with the words, "There once was a time when..."

Cabbage and Black Eyed Peas

I'm about a day late as far as the Gregorian calendar goes, but I figure that as long as I post this message before Chinese New Year, then I'm doing okay...

I love experimenting with food and filling up on food history. Jessica Harris, Vertamae Grosvenor, Edna Lewis, Leah Chase, Dorinda Hafner, the Darden Sisters are some of the sheroes who speak about and look at food in ways that I entirely appreciate.

Though I do not consider it to be a truly new year until the arrival of Spring, like my mama and grandma, I maintain the black Southern tradition of eating cabbage and black eyed peas on January 1. Cabbage for prosperity, peas for good fortune.

Cabbage is not my favorite food, but I will eat it. I much prefer collard greens or kale, especially when prepared Brazilian style (couve) . What I do very much enjoy is black-eyed peas and know a few really good ways to cook them. Like West African bean stew made with tomato sauce, curry powder, spinach and sardines or tuna. Or black eyed pea patties baked or lightly pan fried and topped with salsa. Once I even tried my hand at making acaraje/akaras, one of the signature recipes that the bahianas of Brazil inherited from their Yoruba foremothers. (Before the batter puffs into those fluffy, luscious fritters the cook has to peel off the skins of the individual beans. While in the midst of this tedious process-- that, frankly, made me want to pull my hair out-- it dawned on me that the only way these sisters have the patience to make this dish is that they must work in a group, turning the food prepping ordeal into a gumbo ya ya session. )

In contrast to the complicated but delicious acaraje, the recipe below is simple, nourishing and makes me feel good when I serve it to my son and self. Especially when I add coconut milk to the rice cooking water, it fills my apartment with savory, yummy smell and makes me feel like one of those old time mamas padding around in house slippers, listening to soul-blues. You know the ones with their weekly rituals that involve cooking up a mess of greens, wash day beans or fish and spaghetti.

Here are the ingredients:

* small bag of fresh black eyed peas soaked and cooked without salt (beans soften better this way) or about four cups of frozen black eyed peas

* a few medium carrots, sliced

* four or five tomatoes, diced

* a few sprigs of fresh thyme

* about four cloves of minced, fresh garlic or a few cubes of Dorot frozen crushed garlic

* about a third a cup of fresh cilantro, chopped

* small can of tomato sauce

* about a half cup onion, bell pepper and celery frozen veggie medley

* Spike no salt seasoning or similar herb mixture

* Salt to taste

* about a third cup olive oil

* drizzle of blackstrap molasses

* a few shakes of Liquid Smoke

* tablespoon of vegetarian Better than Bouillon No Beef base or one smoked turkey neck cut into rounds

Add as much water as recommended on package of dry or frozen beans. If you have some time on your hands and want a traditional flavor then put all ingredients in a slow cooker, go on about your business and expect to be comforted as the home cooked aroma gains strength. If you're in a rush, then use your pressure cooker, keeping in mind that cowpeas, like lentils, cook pretty quickly. So don't keep them under pressure for any more than about twenty minutes. (Note: If using the smoked turkey neck for flavoring instead of bouillon slightly reduce water you cook beans in, place pieces of turkey in medium saucepan and fill about half way with water. Add fresh thyme and gently boil turkey until water turns light brown. Add this broth to beans.)

Ladle the peas on top of steamed basmati, jasmine or brown rice and serve alongside a bit of sauteed cabbage. Next, pour yourself a glass of champagne and lift your glass to health, wealth and prosperity in 2009 and beyond.

Hidden Kitchens

A short while back was listening to NPR and learned of an intriguing documentary series called Hidden Kitchens. The particular segment I heard focused on the simplicity of Basque-American cooking.

I love what people like the Hidden Kitchens folk, Southern Foodways Alliance, Vertamae Grosvenor and Marcus Samuelsson are doing. In particular, since Hidden Kitchens has such broad distribution by NPR the way that the series pays attention to how culture and living history are passed along through culinary traditions is significant. After all, as one of my favorite culinary anthropologists Jessica B. Harris has said: If food is on the table, then history is on the plate.

Now all we need is more folk like Slow Food International to tie a strong knot binding foodways and ecological sustainability . Matter of fact, let's take it a step further and tie in the piece having to do with respecting traditional modes of spirituality and their sacred connection to the Earth.

(Above image from Zanzinet Forum website. )