ME THREE |
|
ME THREE |
|
My North Carolina Family: A Family Meal as Bucolic Art By Amanda Wells --------------------------------------- “…there’s barbecue to be had in North Carolina. Scads of it. Whole hog eastern-style barbecue from Wilber’s in Goldsboro, western-style sandwiches of minced pork shoulder napped in a tomato-vinegar slurry from Wayne Monk’s Lexington Barbecue. But the Tar Heel state is also home to a bit of food history worth pondering, for it was at a Woolworth’s lunch counter in the town of Greensboro that the sit-in movement took flame, when, in 1961, four African American students asked to be served a cup of coffee alongside their fellow white citizens. Think about that. Chew on that. And then join me at Charlotte’s Coffee Cup for a slice of pie.” -John T. Edge, Southern Belly, p.157 Food has been of great cultural and social significance in the American South for generations. Events ranging from funerals to weddings and protests to family reunions often have the preparation of a meal at their center. The Carolinas’ rich tradition revolving around food has its roots in the mid-19th century—social occasions demanded lavish and extravagant productions in the kitchen (LeClercq, p.58-9). This legacy continues in many native North and South Carolinian homes today. A strong religious culture and fertile soil have contributed to small communities connecting over meals and religious occasions. The meal and its preparation are of great significance in the home of a North Carolinian family. My mother’s family has called North Carolina home for more than 200 years. My father, a relocated Yankee, has called the Tarheel state home since 1964. I have never lived in the state but I consider it my true home. I visit during religious and American holidays like Thanksgiving, Christmas and Easter. After living in the Midwest and Northeast for the last nine years and being separated from their traditions, I have a better understanding of the bucolic arts and religious rituals that occur within the North Carolina home. A family gathering during a holiday meal provides an ideal framework for understanding the bucolic arts and religious traditions that occur within the North Carolina family meal. My mother’s parents are deceased now, and their children all live within a four-hour radius of each other in North and South Carolina. Today the children rotate the duties rather than decide who will win the honor of hosting the meal. Like the gift in Imagination and the Erotic Life of Property, this hospitable act keeps going, “a gift that cannot move loses its gift properties”, and it is not considered a burden since all the adults will have the responsibility at some point (Hyde, p.8). Since the people attending are not necessarily in close proximity to the host, it is understood that the host will provide all of the food needed for the duration of the visit. Although it wouldn’t be odd if someone brought something the host was not preparing for the meal, the visitor would not dare to bring an item that the host was planning to prepare. If a visitor wanted to bring something specific, they would call the host in advance to make sure they wouldn’t duplicate anything on the menu. My mother’s family consisted of hard-working subsistence farmers. Religion was not necessarily a prime concern. However, the social structure provided by the local church and proximity to other farmers gave her family opportunities to interact with their community. People visited with one another during church picnics and revivals (religious celebrations intended to feed and revive the soul). Sometimes these picnics would involve baking contests in an effort to combine social and religious activities. Women took great pride in the pies and cakes they baked and delivered to these events. Since money was scarce in these farming communities, a woman might offer her friend a secret recipe in return for a favor. Many of these women never learned to read or write well, so recipes would be memorized and cherished by daughters who would one day teach their daughters how to create these goods. Alcohol was strictly forbidden at these events, although the production of moonshine subsidized the income of my great-grandfather. Drinking liquor was not socially acceptable, perhaps since religious and social events were often intimately connected. This has remained the case on my mother’s side of the family. Granny Gross (my mother’s mother, Ruth Gross Pitts) hosted all social and religious events in her tiny four-room house in Goldsboro during her lifetime. The kitchen saw the most action on these occasions. When visitors stopped by to say hello, they did not enter through the front door. That was for the mail slot and strangers. Granny greeted her loved ones at the side door that opened into the kitchen. It was the largest room in the house. A stovetop and cabinet created a division between the area where Granny cooked the food and served it. She could easily chat with her children and grandchildren while she prepared the food and drinks she was constantly refreshing. This is how she performed her role as the family matriarch; she established the standard of sharing food with her family and loved ones. Granny reinterpreted recipes she had learned from her neighbors, her mother and aunts. The things she created were not new, these directions for how to bake a specific dessert just varied slightly by being passed down from person to person. She gave significance to the dishes she created for the family, and therefore she gave significance to the meal itself. Since Granny passed away in 1990, the main meal at a family gathering (usually over the holidays) holds even more significance than when she was living. Each dish symbolizes a bit of her legacy. These are the recipes she learned by sitting in the kitchen watching her mother and aunts, not by reading an index card with chicken-scratch handwriting. We re-create her recipes because they are tangible reminders of family history. One can rely on a veritable all-you-can-eat buffet filled with sweet and savory casseroles, salads and meats at these gatherings. However, there are three essential items to a North Carolina family meal that have a long history of bucolic and religious function. The preparation of several desserts is a key part of the successful meal—throughout the visit this will satisfy a variety of cravings for a variety of people. King of these desserts is the pecan pie. Beverages are also of great significance. Alcohol (beer, wine and liquor) is not offered in the homes of many traditional North Carolinians; one hears sweet tea referred to as “the House Wine of the South”. The guests will expect sweet tea to be available at and between meals. Finally, before the family sits down to enjoy the food the host has prepared, one says grace, the prayer offered to God in thanks for the food before them. The ways in which my family handles each of these things—the preparation of a pecan pie, the preparation of sweet tea, and the prayer before the meal have distinct bucolic qualities that outsiders would find confusing and perhaps trivial. However they hold very significant meanings in my mother’s family that have been passed down for generations. In An Antebellum Plantation Household, the author highlights the culinary habits of Emily Wharton Sinkler during the mid-1850’s in South Carolina. “Emily’s particular forte was desserts, and most dinner parties ended in three desserts…”, she explained (LeClercq, p. 58-9). Today, we can count on the host of the meal to serve several of the following desserts at the meal: a coconut cake, a carrot cake, lemon bars, a variety of cookies, a Chess Pie, and a pecan pie. These are the standard sweet offerings at these events. The pecan pie is regarded as the holiest of these desserts. The host might offer their guests store-bought versions of all of these with the exception of the pecan pie. Regardless of who makes the pie, it should always come from the kitchen of either the host (usually) or one of their guests. Furthermore, it is the one item visitors should never bring unless the host requests their assistance. The host would interpret an unsolicited offer to bring a pecan pie as an insult to his or her culinary skills. The way in which a pecan pie is prepared is of great importance as well. Some women in my family have mastered their skills, and can bake the thing so that its consistency is firm, the topping reveals perfectly chopped pecans, and the homemade crust isn’t overcooked. This varies in many North Carolinian families. Certain recipes allow for store-bought crust, whole pecans and a thinner filling. Outsiders might prefer another method of preparation. They might not understand the idea expressed in Art and Religion in Africa that “Everyday objects and more personal items may be laden with symbolic significance” (Hackett, p.2). Many people wouldn’t mind if the entire pie came from a grocer’s freezer section or an expensive bakery, but they also never ate my Granny’s pie. They never learned her recipe, the recipe that belonged to her Granny. They never understood the responsibility of baking that treat. Epicurious.com, the Web site hosted by Gourmet and Bon Appetit magazines, lists more than 14,000 recipes for beverages and edibles. It includes forty-two recipes for pecan pie and its variations, but it lists no recipes for sweet tea. It’s not usually listed on the drink menus at restaurants in the South, but neither is water. This is an essential beverage at any of my family gatherings. If the visitor asks for “tea”, the host will hand them a tall cold glass of the sugary stuff and never bother to ask about hot teas, herbal teas, or whether or not the visitor would care for sugar. Its preparation is unique according to the host who makes it, even within my mother’s family. Few commonalities exist among the recipes. We understand that Luzianne is the most acceptable brand for making sweet tea (although Lipton will suffice), and that it must be “kitchen-sweetened”. This means that the tea is sweetened while it is warm so that the sugar completely dissolves before the ice is added. My family wants it ready to sip when it is handed to them. We won’t drink sweet tea if it has been prepared with a sugar substitute instead of the real thing. My mother is criticized for not using enough sugar, and my father, the relocated-Yankee-North Carolinian-since-1964, gets frustrated because he can never get a cup of hot herbal tea at my aunt’s house. She gets offended and does not understand why he won’t drink her concoction. He thinks it is unreasonable and insensitive to his dietary needs to not offer a greater variety of beverages. Although we have been able to avoid re-creating another War Between the States, we cannot avoid a cultural misunderstanding. After glasses of tea are poured and before we can begin to devour the delicious food, the family offers thanks for the wonderful gifts we are about to receive. We say grace, the prayer that must occur before the meal is consumed. This religious and bucolic activity happens even though my parents are the only people in the family who attend church on a regular basis. A visitor from outside the family or region might not understand the rules involved with the saying grace. I’ve attended dinners at the homes of friends who do not say anything before they eat, and some families recite the same quick prayer they’ve said before every meal for decades. In my family, the rules and responsibility go something like this:. 1) The male head of the household says the blessing.
Families in other regions of the United States might share the same
general traditions of my family. The ways in which people prepare food
for social events can overlap because of the geographic movement of
families in the 20th century. Baking might be important to one family,
the drinks that are served (or not) might hold significance in another
state, and the patriarch might say the prayer before the meal is served
in a variety of regions with strong religious backgrounds. Specific
details transform these general traditions into bucolic and religious
arts. The memorized recipes and the unspoken rules and rituals that
occur create bucolic art forms that I hope my children will learn as
they watch their mother in the kitchen, preparing the meal for a family
gathering. --------------------------------------- Amanda Wells is a contributing editor at Me Three. She can be contacted at awells@methree.net.
© 2003 Me Three |