I've have always loved to see how a painter's style has evolved. Sometimes it's a sudden change, sometimes it's a more gradual change. The same thing goes for cooks. The creative process is always fun for me, whether in food, art, music, writing, or ideas for businesses. I'm heavily influenced by my environment and adventures and whenever possible, I take those experiences and place them in my creations.
It's been over 11 years since I stepped bewildered onto Tennessee soil. A world full of humid summers, kudzu and country music, a quaint land of mysteries and oddities, especially when it came to how folks nourish themselves. My first stop on my culinary journey in the south was at Puckett's Grocery and Restaurant in Franklin, TN. We were exhausted and stumbled in for dinner after a whirlwind day of moving in and unpacking. Little did I know that this was the beginning of a magical journey. (It's still my favorite restaurant.) (The first phase of culture shock- the honeymoon phase)
After living most of my life "up north," "out east" or in the southwest, I wasn't used to food that was hearty, creamy, carby or dreamy. My taste buds, especially after 11 years in Arizona were accustomed to exuberant, lively, spicy and forceful.
I felt a bit like an abandoned cook surrounded by inaccessible treasured family recipes, "authentic preparation," and incomplete directions. At first, I tried recreating the recipes, and became very frustrated because they defied me. I tried fusion, it was interesting, but I still was not hitting the mark. What I always loved the most about cooking is that it's a puzzle to be solved.
I must say, there was a certain thrill at the idea of a major shift in the rules of my kitchen game.
I visited numerous grocery stores that knew nothing of cilantro, tomatillos, Italian Sausage or truffle oil.
I walked befuddled, up and down the tiny aisles of mom and pop gas stations in small towns that are worth more than their weight in charm, where they stocked pickled eggs, gizzards, pickled sausages, chitlins, chow chow, boiled peanuts, fried green hand pies and nabs. (I also discovered absolutely mouthwatering fried poultry, "that gas station chicken", so good y'all. Take one bite and you will understand the hype!)
I frequented farmers markets and farm stands with unfamiliar displays of things like okra, collard and mustard greens, butter beans, pokeweed, black eyed peas, ramps and pluots.
I dined at people's homes where the summer menu featured whole hog barbeque, collard greens, coca cola cake and divinity, and where I learned that macaroni and cheese is a vegetable.
I celebrated holidays with menus that included sausage balls, potato candy, hoppin john, corn bread stuffing, brandy milk punch, corn pudding, and chess pie.
I foraged the countryside for watercress, dandelion greens, hickory nuts, wild onions, Jerusalem artichokes, black walnuts, mulberrys, blackberries and the elusive pawpaws.
I ate at restaurants where fried green tomatoes, pimento cheese blt's, corn fritters, hoe cakes, hush puppies, shrimp and grits, possum and shoefly pie were on the menu.
This Yankee girl was lost on unfamiliar ground and all shook up! (the second phase of culture shock- frustration)
In the past 11 years, I've embraced the gamut of southern gastronomy. But it was only once I discovered the whys and wherefores of southern cooking with the cultures and the stories of the people that discovered or created them, the culinary groundwork, the food seems peculiar and unapproachable. People matter. Their stories matter. When there is no cultural tradition to key into, the food on a plate seems isolated and lifeless, kind of like what happens when you don't use a colored ground when creating an oil painting, or creating your business on something other than your passion.
What I have learned is that you can bring a lot more than food to the dinner table. (the third phase of culture shock- adjustment)
I've never been good at math, but a little history + a little affection + pure culinary magic!!
These southern cooks are individualists who care about food, spirits, music, art, religion and family and the good life. The holy and the secular meet head-on at the Southern dinner table. These special people are endowed with an insight that helps them see a profound joy in living and eating and loving.
Dinner will be served promptly at 6:00 PM and Aunt Lola is bringing her special dish of Cheesy Grit Fritters with Hot Pepper Jelly. The Cheerwine Bourbon Slushes are coming via Uncle Lawson, and Mama Marabelle is baking her Chocolate Chess Pie with Cornbread Crumble. Now sit down and relax. Everything will be just fine. (the fourth phase of culture shock-acceptance)
Yes, everything will be just fine.
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