Michael W. Twitty's Blog, page 8

Chef Michael Twitty Teaches History and Nurtures Harmony with Every Meal | @BCBSNC

http://blog.bcbsnc.com/2017/05/chef-michael-twitty-teaches-history-nurtures-harmony-every-meal/

Cool interview. Really enjoyed it. Enjoy!

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Why BBQ is America’s Most Political Food

Enjoy this story I was interviewed for along with my friends and colleagues Chuck Reese and Kathleen Purvis. Special thanks to Georgia Public Radio. 

Kosher Soul Food Feeds Truth to History | Atlanta Jewish Times

http://atlantajewishtimes.timesofisrael.com/kosher-soul-food-feeds-truth-to-history/

I love this piece. It was written by a fellow Jew of color and it shows! I felt authentically represented in my full self.

Yay!

Pesach/Passover 2017

http://www.latimes.com/food/dailydish/la-dd-michael-twitty-20170410-story.html

I had a wonderful Pesach, and we have two more days to go. As we leave the holiday, I wanted to make sure my blog followers got to read this interview from the LA Times. I can’t thank the Skirball Center, Tori Avey and Shuki Levy and my new Persian family in Brentwood enough for making this a fabulous holiday. 

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If you haven’t guessed, my African American Seder Plate got a boost at the Levy Family seder: 

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Tori even bumped up my Charoset by making it edible for me, she made it with peanuts and molasses instead of pecans which I can’t have. Before you throw the switch, know we are both Sephardic in practice. Yay kitniyot!

I am grateful for new friends and the spiritual recharge this holiday brings. 

Chag Sameach!

Gut Yontif!

Michael 

What is The Cooking Gene?

Please Support my Culinary Pilgrimage To Senegal

https://www.gofundme.com/nb652b-trip-to-africa

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Today is my 40th birthday and I’m excited to be alive.

I want to reverse the Middle Passage.

I want to take my life’s work and go on a culinary Pilgrimage to West Africa with www.RootstoGlory.com this June. I need your help to get there. I’ve started a Go Fund Me campaign to get me there. For 3500$ I can see Africa, the home of my Ancestors and many others, for the first time. We located distant cousins of my paternal grandfather among the Serer people of Thies, Senegal. Of all the places in West Africa, Senegal touched the North, the Middle Atlantic, Chesaprake, Low country and Louisiana as well as Haiti and northern Brazil, giving us a unique opportunity to explore a mother culture of African Atlantic and African American foodways!

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This is my life’s dream. That’s all I can really say.

The first day we pay homage at the Door of No Return. I will pray for healing there, redemption, honor, peace and power. I will see rice fields, gardens, villages like the ones my Ancestors came from, fishing on the coast and get to cook with my distant Senegalese family.

Got 5, 10, 18, 36 or more, please contribute! It means the world!

Please don’t forget to share on Facebook and Twitter!

Meet a Afri-Creole Culinary Maven rescuing the food traditions of her heritage: Shawanda Marie (RECIPE!!!)

I met Cheftavist Shawanda Marie at a recent presentation at Virginia Tech. Chef is a living archive of Afri-Creole culture, embodying the values of The Cooking Gene. During this Lenten time, I wanted you to make a traditional of red beans and rice sans meat and bite into her story!

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What does Creole mean to you?

Ahhh, the contentious “C” word; one that evokes a broad spectrum of emotion – ranging from pride, visceral disdain, warm adulation, confusion, avoidance, to absolute indifference. The word, for many New Orleans natives, can have a triggering effect. My early life experience with the word Creole was shaped by its charged conjecture. The general assumption among New Orleans residents is that Creole simply implies someone of mixed race as evidenced solely by their outward appearance: skin complexion, facial features, hair texture or the non-physical indicator of one’s family name.  Even today, within certain circles, Creolité is presented as a social or class institution of exclusivity which can be off-putting. All hell broke loose when Beyoncé dared to utter “You mix that Negro with that Creole make a Texas bamma”. The blogging community exploded with an avalanche of volatile interrogation: “Here she goes again with all that Creole foolishness”, “How dare this heffa’ make a distinction between Negro and Creole—girl bye!”, “Yeah, we know you’re light-skinned, Beyoncé. Enough with the Creole talk.”, “She must not think she’s black!” The pushback was nonstop for weeks. These responses represent a rather limited and narrow understanding of what it means to identify as Creole.  I am Black. My skin tone is rich dark brown. I am a descendant of Senegambian, Mandinka and Congo people. I was born in the United States and am a natural citizen of this country. My nationality is American, however my ethnicity is Louisiana-Creole.  

This past Christmas I nearly had my black card SNATCHED! I was invited to dine with a wonderful African-American family here in Virginia. I asked if I could bring a dish to the feast and knowing I am from New Orleans, they gleefully agreed. The hosts prepared a lovely spread and I could not wait to eat. They announced that all dishes were seasoned without the use of pork and I was elated. Usually I can’t eat as freely as I’d like because of my dietary limitations, but it was on that day! As I went to plate my food, in my excitement I shared with everyone that this would be my first time trying pinto beans and collard greens. *RECORD SCREECH and silence* The whole house turned to me in complete shock. “What do you mean your first time eating pintos and collards?!” I was asked how something like that could even happen and why? My Blackness was questioned and my card was about to be revoked on the spot! We all laughed at the humor of the moment and I explained that growing up in New Orleans, we never ate pinto beans, we ate red beans and rice (kidney beans). Then I shared that the only greens I was given as a child were mustards and cabbage. We didn’t eat collards in my family. Later I had to check in with other native New Orleanians to see if it was just me, but they confirmed the same culinary upbringing as mine. The following week I brought in the New Year with the same group of friends and we had smothered cabbage. They all thought it strange that I added rice to the plate to accompany my cabbage and I exclaimed that’s the only way I know to eat it! LOL! They were enlightening cultural exchange moments. Oh, the dish I brought was mirlitons (pronounced mil-ee-tawn). They’d never heard of them, but mirlitons are quite common in New Orleans. 

Everyone in that house was black.  Everyone in that house was born in the United States and hold natural citizenship. However we did not all share the same ethnicity. The cultural and culinary experience that informed my friends identity was African-American, rooted in the traditions of Southern American cuisine. My cultural and culinary experience was informed by my Louisiana-Creole identity, rooted in the food traditions of Latin Louisiana and Caribbean influences. Being black and from the south is multi-dimensional. And being Creole is broader than the color of one’s skin, or DNA profile. My great grandmother, Léontine, was jet black and very Creole in every sense of the word. Louisiana Creole was her first language and primarily what was spoken in her and my great grandfather Gustave’s home. Through the years there have been various interpretations of the word Creole’s meaning, the most current definition being ‘a person of non-American ancestry, whether African or European, who was born in the Americas.’ After Louisiana was purchased by the United States in 1803, people began using the word Creole to identify that which was native to Louisiana from that which was not. This is why we have Creole cottages, Creole tomatoes, Creole mustard, Creole language, Creole cuisine, Creole music, and thusly, Creole people – all with an origin in South Louisiana. Much of this informs what Creole signifies to me, but it also means ‘shoo-shooing’ on the porch with my Mama and Madea (my grandmother) while they peeled shrimp, “door poppin”, walking in a house full of family – twenty or more – and kissing every one of them upon arrival and departure, dancing with abandon anywhere you hear music that moves the soul, having your “personal space” invaded by a touch from a stranger and them calling you baby, love, “hawt” or dawlin’ — and it’s completely okay. I can go on. Creole is culture and culture is life.

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The flags of Spain, France, Mali and Senegal make up the Afri-Creole banner.

As someone from New Orleans how do you feel about the current state of Black New Orleans cooking, especially after Katrina and her Diaspora?

In New Orleans you’ll find the best food in people’s home kitchens. We natives cook from pretty much the same cultural repertoire of dishes, with slight differences in taste based on how ‘mama’ or ‘maw mawn’ made it. There’s no one exact way to make gumbo, each cook adds their own flair to the pot but doesn’t deviate too far from the family flavor. We are a people steeped in tradition and family is everything. I am concerned that so many younger cooks and families who’ve left the city, post Katrina, rarely make the time to prepare familiar dishes that we grew up eating due of this fast paced, quick ‘food’ lifestyle. A good satisfying Creole meal takes time, patience and love to make. Those are three ingredients which profoundly influence the taste of the food. And then there’s the presentation. 

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My grandmother told me that you absolutely must make your food pretty because we eat with our eyes first, then our mouths. I grew up right next to her in the kitchen and she was keenly particular about how she wanted her food prepped. Several times my grandmother made me start over again and do a task in a way that met her approval. There were many life lessons learned in my grandmother’s kitchen. She was extremely meticulous and instilled the same quality in me. For example, in New Orleans we put hot sausage in our gumbo. Some people cut the links in small bite-sized pieces, add them to the pot and they’re done. When the sausage cooks, it swells bursting out of the casing, and looks like a tight corset around the sausage’s waist. My grandmother didn’t like that look in her pot. She preferred her hot sausage squeezed from the casing and rolled into neat little balls. They had to be just the right size and ‘pretty’, not all lopsided. LOL! This was tedious and always took time because she didn’t skimp on the sausage in her gumbo. There was plenty to roll. Valuable family stories were shared in those moments and I didn’t realize but my character was being shaped right along with those close to perfectly round lil’ hot sausage balls. I wish people today would make the time to feed their bodies and souls in that way. 

Another thing I’ve noticed, post Katrina, is that the food quality in some local New Orleans restaurants has changed. I went to one of my favorite spots last time I was home and left highly disappointed. I believe this is happening because many of the native New Orleans cooks no longer prepare the dishes and also recipes are being altered to appease the palettes of residents moving to the city from places with blander sensibilities. Creole cuisine is known for being well seasoned. Honestly, I must admit reluctance to even venture into some places that advertise serving New Orleans cuisine outside of the city. I’ve been let down too many times. Everyone is jumping on the Creole food trend, but appear to have done little research on how the dishes should taste. I went to an establishment that has the word ‘Creole’ in their business name. I ordered a shrimp po-boy and a bowl of seafood gumbo. The po-boy was on a hoagie roll with sesame seeds on top and about five shrimp total on the sandwich. SIGH. And the gumbo…all I’ll say about that is there was corn, greens beans and brussel sprouts in it. I was insulted! I asked if anyone at the place was from Louisiana and they answered in a heavy twang, “Naw, we’re from ‘round here.” I was done.

You have an amazing family history, I’d love for you to tell us more about your 18th and 19th century roots.     

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Thank you very much. My documented family history dates back to 1724 during the early settlement of the Louisiana Territory, six years after the founding of New Orleans. This is on my mother’s paternal side. In South Louisiana, after talking with someone long enough, you’ll learn that almost everyone is related in some way, whether black, white, or indigenous native. We have family of every shade and everybody’s called “cousin”. My 5th great grandfather, Christophe Heidel (Haydel), was a first generation Creole of German descent. He was married and had several children with his wife, however also fathered four children with an enslaved woman on his plantation in the German Coast, forty-five minutes outside of New Orleans. Her name was Angélique and she was a twenty-eight year old “native of the colony”, simply stated — Creole. In the year 1795, seventy years before the Emancipation Proclamation and Christophe granted Angélique and their four babies’ manumission. Because of the way laws regarding manumission were stated at the time, he had to go about freeing them in a rather crafty manner. He sold all four children to a free woman of color from New Orleans, named Charlotte, under the absolute condition of granting their freedom. He further stated that the children must live with their mother and never be separated. There was one stipulation, however. The manumission stated that Angélique would only be granted freedom at the time of his and his wife’s deaths. I’m assuming she worked closely with them both. 

Christophe died five years later in the year 1800 and his wife followed, shortly after. Angélique and her children went on to live as gens de couleur libres (free people of color). One of her daughters, Cèleste, met an enslaved Congo man and fell in love with him. His name was Édouard Favarotte. He worked on a small plantation not far from where she grew up. Édouard and Cèleste weren’t permitted to marry because of laws governing their status in society, but that all changed once he risked his life fighting in the War of 1812 Battle of New Orleans. He fought for his freedom, promised to enslaved soldiers, and for her hand in marriage. I am a result of their love and union six generations later. 

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This is only one branch of my family tree. We’ve discovered equally intriguing history of ancestors’ lives on both sides of my family with many incredibly amazing stories. I share my mother’s paternal family lineage with the legendary Antoine “Fats” Domino, a close cousin to my grandfather. On my father’s maternal side, New Orleans Jazz trumpeter George “Kid Sheik” Colar is my great uncle. There’s rich musical talent and artists of various disciplines in my family, as with many New Orleans families. Knowing this family history is a blessing and a gift that I do not take for granted. It anchors me. 

What makes a great Creole cook? 

A great Creole cook knows how to improvise and make something scrumptious of what’s available. Most Creole cooks born into the culinary tradition cook instinctually–no recipes. The recipe is in the heart and comes from years of watching mama, daddy and/or grandma prepare meals. My granddaddy made the best lost bread (pain perdu) I’ve ever eaten. I use to watch him make it from a distance when I was little. The steps are burned into my memory. We own measuring spoons and cups, but they’re in the kitchen for show. We never really use them. I can’t recall ever seeing anyone in my family cook using a measuring apparatus. We tend to taste as we go and gauge the dish by its look and smell to guide the process along. A great Creole cook genuinely loves to cook…I mean really enjoys the ritual of preparing a work of art to be appreciated by all. And that’s the reward, watching family and guests savor every bite. It gets no better than that! Creole cooks put lots of pride into their culinary creations, striving to be the best at whatever dish they’re preparing. Great Creole cooks realize there is no separation between Creole food and its people. The food didn’t pop up in a vacuum. It was created generation after generation by a people just as colorful, spicy and rich as the cuisine itself. That’s why there’s so much passion and pride around gumbo among Creole people. Gumbo is the culinary embodiment of all we are, which is why we don’t take too kindly to untraditional revisions of our sacred dish; especially from those having no lived experience within the culture. Ask Disney how remixing one of South Louisiana’s most revered dishes worked out for them! LOL!  

What are your favorite foods to make?

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I thoroughly enjoy cooking foods which connect me to my grandmother, family and my childhood in New Orleans. Today I live hundreds of miles from my immediate family and the place where I have so many fond memories. These memories continue to forge me into the woman I’m becoming. My grandmother was the rock of our family – we were all very close. Cooking is my communion. It is a sacred act that deeply connects me to those who came before me. I find pleasure in cooking a wide variety of cuisines, but none brings me home like Creole food. When I want to feel the presence of my grandmother I make a big pot of filé gumbo and try to get it as close to hers as possible. Certain foods have that magical ability to surpass time and space, transporting you to particular chapters of your life’s journey. When I cook Creole food, I’m paying homage to the ancestors and showing my respect by keeping the flavor of the culture alive as sustenance for the spirit and a gift to the palette. Some of my favorites to make are New Orleans-style hot tamales, crawfish bisque, stuffed bell peppers, bread pudding with rum sauce and court bouillon (we say coo-be-yon). Now I’m hungry!

Watch “Food of the Enslaved: Akara” on YouTube

Many thanks to Jas.Townsend&co for their generosity and kindness and for the wonderful videos they put together as well as my friends over at Gunston Hall. Many many thanks to all. If you like this post or the videos, feel free to share! Click here to learn more about traditional Nigerian akara. Be sure to pre-order The Cooking Gene!

Kippah-ed While Black: KWB- A Monthly Opinion Column in the Forward

If you don’t know, now you know I’m writing a monthly column for The Forward entitled, Kippah-ed While Black. It’s intention is to draw attention to issues in the lives of African American Jews, through my lens. The first piece is on the unfortunate use of racial epithets among some Jews and the power of those words and how we can deflate them. 

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The second piece is about my role as a Hebrew school teacher, one who had to make Black history everyday, just by existing. As Kippah-ed While Black continues, it will keep probing tough topics in Black Jewish relations from the perspective of African American Jews. I invite you to read both pieces and check back into the Forward each month for other installments. 

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And yes, eventually we will talk about food.

IWatch “Food of the Enslaved: Barbecue” on YouTube

Many thanks to Jas.Townsend&co for their generosity and kindness and for the wonderful videos they put together as well as my friends over at Gunston Hall. Many many thanks to all. If you like this post or the videos, feel free to share! Click here to learn more about early barbecue.