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You could say that my grandfather was a bit eccentric, and you\nwouldn\u2019t be wrong, but I thought he was a silly, creative, and hilarious\ngenius. Part of his silliness was that he would always put on an over-the-top\nItalian accent while we were cooking. He did this so often and so well, that by\nthe time I was 8 years old, I was convinced we were part Italian. I was shocked\nwhen someone finally broke the news to me. All that time together in Papaw\u2019s\nItalian kitchen had me convinced that we were at least partially descended from\nwho I thought were the best cooks in the world. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
This, however, was untrue. I recently took a DNA test with\nAncestry.com and the results are in: I am white. The majority of my bloodline\n(66%) hails from England, Wales and Northwestern Europe, and the remainder is\nmade up of the surrounding areas: 18% Germanic European, 10% Sweden, 3% Norway,\nand 3% Ireland\/Scotland. I can\u2019t say I know enough about the classic dishes of\nthose cuisines to know if they influenced the way my grandparents ate, nor\nmyself. On my mother\u2019s mother\u2019s side, we can trace her history all the way to\nthe American Revolution, perhaps even The<\/em> Mayflower<\/em>. I don\u2019t know\nmuch about my mother\u2019s father\u2019s side. <\/p>\n\n\n\n Papaw didn\u2019t have an easy childhood and doesn\u2019t like to talk about\nhis parents all too much. I do know that after he escaped his parents at age 5,\nhe grew up on his grandmother\u2019s farm in West Virginia. He has fond memories of\nhis grandmother, Mamaw. Papaw got his love for food from Mamaw; she fed him\nwell with fresh ingredients and a healthy dose of love. There\u2019s a glassy,\nfar-away look in his eye when he talks about her; perhaps it\u2019s happiness, or\nthe pain of missing her, or remembering how much hard work went into the food\nhe describes. Most likely it’s a combination of it all, and it\u2019ll be the same\nlook I have in my own eyes when I tell my children about Papaw. <\/p>\n\n\n\n Growing up in rural Florida our ethnic cuisine options were\nlimited to the \u201cOriental\/Hispanic\u201d aisle of the grocery store, and Panda Express.\nThis may be racism, or simply the demographics weren\u2019t interested in different\ncuisines enough for a new business to thrive in the area. The town where I grew\nup was a NASA town, and after the space program was all but mothballed, the\neconomy suffered. Because of this, the main businesses that were able to stay\nopen were the ones that had been there for years, and the fast food\nrestaurants. Although, if you were willing to travel the half-an-hour it took\nto get anywhere other than nowhere, there was really good Mexican food. In\ntown, there was a pizza place that had been around forever and two barbeque\nspots: the popular chain Sonny\u2019s BBQ, and a mom and pop shop called Louis\u2019s BBQ\nShack, which I always thought had the best sweet tea in town.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Looking back now, there\u2019s a distinct difference between the kind\nof Southern cooking we did at home and the kind of Southern cooking we got when\nwe ate out. The main difference is that the Southern that you could get at the\nbarbeque restaurants were clearly influenced by the Black style of Southern\ncooking: creamy and flavorful baked beans, hush puppies covered in powdered\nsugar, BBQ sauce and rubs on every kind of meat the South had to offer. As a\nchild I found the Black Southern food to be overwhelming and intriguing all at\nthe same time. I remember once in the second grade we had some kind of\nfamily-recipe potluck as part of a history project. I can\u2019t remember what I\nbrought, the only thing I remember is the only Black student in the whole class\nbringing his dad\u2019s cornbread and it being gone in an instant. I told him I\ndidn\u2019t know cornbread could be moist and sweet, I thought it was always crumbly\nand bland. I\u2019ll never forget the proud look on his face that just read \u201cThat\u2019s\nwhat I\u2019ve been trying to tell you!\u201d <\/p>\n\n\n\n The kind of southern cooking we did at home was white: white gravy, white biscuits, white potatoes, and steaks well done with nothing but salt and pepper. Maybe these are real-time echoes of the past; the white European blood showing itself as a lens to my culinary present. I spent the majority of my childhood between my mom\u2019s house and my grandma\u2019s house. My mom\u2019s parents got divorced when she was 14, and my parents got divorced when I was 4, at which point we moved from California to Florida. My single mom was a teacher, studying to get her master\u2019s degree and National Board Certification at the same time. Because of this, we spent a lot of time at my grandma\u2019s house. She only knows how to make a few meals: spaghetti and meatballs, meatloaf, shepherd\u2019s pie, and \u201cbaked\u201d (but actually microwaved) potatoes. Are you noticing a trend? Top three ingredients: meat, potatoes, dairy. While these four meals will only get you so far, the main reason my grandma didn\u2019t cook that often is because she hated to do it. Every time my mom cooks for her (to this day) she exclaims \u201cWow, it\u2019s so nice to have a wife!\u201d and laughs at her own joke. All of this, to say that we ate out often: Publix subs with fried chicken, cheddar cheese, and shredded lettuce, and Wendy\u2019s chicken nuggets, a frosty, and fries were the most frequent options at grandma\u2019s house. After dinner we would do homework, watch NCIS<\/em> or Dancing with the Stars<\/em>, eat ice cream and go to bed. My grandma eats ice cream at the same time every night; in fact, it\u2019s how she remembers to take her cholesterol medicine. <\/p>\n\n\n\n My mom, although having a breadth of recipes in her repertoire,\nused a lot of the same ingredients: chicken, beef, dairy, pasta, potatoes,\nbreads and sugar. The more I think about where our culinary influences came\nfrom, the longer the list gets: West Virginia accounts for the beef and\npotatoes, Florida takes responsibility for the chicken and sugar, Papaw\u2019s\nobsession with Italian and French food accounts for the pasta, bread and sugar.\nWe also felt the influence from our close proximity to the southern border both\nwhen we lived in California and in Florida; salsa, guacamole, tacos, quesadillas,\nand lots and lots of tortilla chips. Every year, my mom, siblings, and I made\nthe trek back to California to see family friends and my father. Each trip was\nalways centered around the foods we could only get on the west coast: Jamba\nJuice, In-n-Out, Wood Ranch, California Pizza Kitchen, and Chick-fil-A (before\nthey expanded). I was always thrilled to share these meals with people that I\nloved, and often had not seen in a while. I find it fascinating that in this\nclass we are engaging in \u201cculinary tourism\u201d, something I have been doing since before I was old enough to pronounce the same words. This\ninfluenced my relationship with food from a young age; I was always aware that\nfood could play the role of something to bring people together, even across the\ncountry. It also made me overtly aware of the scarcity of some foods and how they can\nbecome the hallmark of a special occasion. Ironically enough, the \u201cspecial\nfoods from across the country\u201d have reversed themselves now that I live on the\nWest Coast. Now we look forward to Steak \u2018n\u2019 Shake, Sonny\u2019s (Louis\u2019s closed),\nand those now nostalgic Publix subs. <\/p>\n\n\n\n Before moving to Washington, I can\u2019t remember one meal that didn\u2019t\ncontain meat in some shape or form\u2014 even green beans were cooked in pork fat\nand served with bacon bits. Once I moved north, my palate expanded quite\nrapidly. I started eating sushi, pho, Thai and Indian curries. I fell in love\nwith the cuisine of the Global East. Despite this budding affection for new and\nexciting cuisines, I never lost my love and appreciation for the cuisines and\ndishes I grew up with: Southern, American, Italian, sandwiches, and grilled\nmeats. All of these come together to form the palate I had going into the rest\nof my life. <\/p>\n\n\n\n Fast-forwarding through all of the character building, albeit\nunrelated, life events of middle and high school, we arrive here: The Evergreen\nState College. When I first arrived, I was weary of gaining the Freshman 15: an\nall you can eat buffet for three meals a day plus little self-control equals a\nvery unhealthy student. However, the food served at said buffet proved not to\nbe as enticing as I had originally imagined it would be. For the first few\nweeks I was adventurous, eating the various entre meals that they served. But\nafter one too many trips to the bathroom (and eventually not enough trips to\nthe bathroom) I decided to stick to the basics: burgers and fries. This isn\u2019t\nexactly the well-balanced diet I had intended for myself. Although the Greenery\nmay not have provided me with the nutrition I needed, what it lacked in health\nit made up for in community. Everyone has to eat, and all first-year students\nhave to have a meal plan, so inevitably we ended up congregating there. <\/p>\n\n\n\n For all of its faults, I will always love the Greenery, because\nit\u2019s where I met my partner. Kenny is a beautiful, kind and compassionate man\nwhose wit and charm know no ends. He also happens to be a vegetarian Buddhist. Often\ntimes when I tell people that I went vegetarian when I met Kenny, they assume\nhe laid down some sort of ultimatum: never let meat cross your lips or you will\nnever have me. This is not the case at all; at first, I tried to be respectful\nby not eating much meat around him. After a few weeks of hanging out regularly,\nhe offered a friendly challenge: try it. For one week, don\u2019t eat meat. I was\ngame, so to speak, and after that one week, I honestly felt a lot healthier.\nKenny shared some literature with me about the harmful practices of factory\nfarms and let me make my own choice, and I chose to stop supporting systems\nthat blatantly disregard the well-being of all lifeforms on earth. <\/p>\n\n\n\n After I went vegetarian, things were really weird for a while. I\ndidn\u2019t know what a meal was that wasn\u2019t centered around meat, so I mostly ate\nside options. For almost a month after the switch, I lived mostly on the\nGreenery\u2019s salad bar and French fries. Sometimes I would venture out into the\ngluten-free options and eat some plain quinoa and their very spicy hummus\n(which Kenny affectionately called \u201cspummus\u201d), but aside from that my diet was\nfairly carb heavy. It took me a long time to learn how to work protein into my\ndiet, and what a meal with veggies for the main dish even looked like. Luckily,\nmy old friend pasta had my back to help me transition into a vegetarian diet. Three\nyears into my vegetarian lifestyle, and I still struggle with it sometimes. The\nmost beneficial thing that I\u2019ve learned to help me is to look to cuisines of\nthe Global East. Perhaps it\u2019s because I live with a Buddhist that I made these\nconnections, but I found that the places where Buddhism was associated with\ntended to have more meatless dishes\u2014 a hypothesis that was confirmed by reading\nCuisine and Empire<\/em> by Rachel Lauden. <\/p>\n\n\n\n Looking to the Global East helped me find ways to eat protein and\nvegetables instead of just macaroni and cheese. By looking at Chinese cuisine, I\nlearned that tofu was more than just something floating at the bottom of miso\nsoup (although this is still one of the most delicious ways to eat it, in my\nopinion), and that it didn\u2019t always have to be soggy and flavorless. Tofu is\nbland by design so that you can imbue it with spices and flavor-boosters like\ngarlic and ginger. One of my new favorite tricks is to put that boring white\nblock in a tofu press; once you\u2019ve squeezed out all the liquid, you can\nmarinate it in whatever you\u2019d like: soy sauce, Worcestershire sauce, garlic and\nlemon juice. Plus, it crisps up delightfully when pan seared. The best thing\nabout tofu is that it is a blank slate. <\/p>\n\n\n\n If you turn your eyes to India, you can learn so much about the importance\nof spices. I had no idea that curry wasn\u2019t a spice, but a blend of spices, the\nsame as tikka and garam masalas. You can make a delicious and well-balanced\nmeal by combining some spices, vegetables, and coconut milk for a luxurious\nsauce that goes well with rice. I find it fascinating how often Indian cuisine uses\nyogurt to add acid and fat, balancing out the spices and starches. Another\ngreat thing Indian food introduced me to was lentils; dahl is a vibrant, aromatic,\nand hearty meal that comes together with little more effort than it takes to\nmake a stir-fry.<\/p>\n\n\n\n To bring my exploration closer to home, I returned to an old\nfavorite of mine: tacos. Of course, these weren\u2019t the tacos I\u2019d had before;\nthey weren\u2019t meat, cheese, lettuce, tomatoes, and sour cream. Instead, I looked\nto the wisdom of the Native Americans and their Three Sisters Garden. My tacos\nhad black beans, corn, and sweet potatoes. The traditional Three Sisters garden\nwould have squash instead of sweet potatoes, and nothing about this was a\ntraditional taco (especially because we used huge flour tortillas, so it was\nmore of a burrito really), but we used what we had to make something delicious.\nOnce I concocted this mishmash of cultures and cuisines, Kenny was hooked. Thus\nwas born our own version of Taco Tuesday, and it\u2019s been a tradition ever since.\n<\/p>\n\n\n\n Taco Tuesday was just the beginning of me understanding how to\nmake vegetarian meals. A lot of it had to do with making a schedule: Mondays\nare black bean burger days (I make enough to have leftovers for fast lunches\nthroughout the week), then Taco Tuesday, Wednesdays are for stir-fries, Thursday\nI make a full on gourmet meal that makes me happy to cook and eat, and Fridays\nwe have frozen pizzas because who really has the energy for anything more than pizza\nand beer on Fridays? What about the weekends, you ask? I cooked all week! Fend\nfor yourself. Maybe if we\u2019re feeling rich, we\u2019ll go out to eat, and if it\u2019s\nsoccer season you\u2019ll definitely find us at the sports bar eating garlic fries\nfor dinner. The menu tends to change as our schedules demand, ensuring the fast\nmeals land on our busiest days. I try to always keep one fancy meal per week to\nfeed my culinary creativity, and let\u2019s face it, my taste buds. It\u2019s been a long\njourney to get to the point where I feel confident in my ability to be able to\nwhip up a healthy and delicious vegetarian meal when I need to. I\u2019ve added new\nmeals to my arsenal (chickpea salad sandwiches) and erased the ones we only ate\nbecause I didn\u2019t know how to make anything better (spaghetti with sauce from a\njar and broccoli to make it \u201chealthy\u201d).<\/p>\n\n\n\n Even the meals that felt like we were suffering through had a\nplace in the expedition towards climbing the meatless mountain. Whether it be\nfiguring out how to eat something other than salad and fries, or dedicating\nmyself to being able to make the perfect Thanksgiving gravy, everything I\u2019ve\nlearned has helped me grow into the eater I am today. And who knows, maybe I\u2019ll\nmaster making the perfect vegetarian chicken tender: a crispy, crunchy outside\nwith melt in your mouth moist \u201cmeat\u201d inside the carb-y case. Even if I don\u2019t, I\nknow there\u2019s no such thing as a botched attempt. Kenny always reminds me that I\ndidn\u2019t fail, I just learned how not<\/em> to make something. There have been\nseveral times where having him in my kitchen has made me feel better, and I\u2019m\ntruly thankful for that. I always know that if I\u2019m struggling to figure\nsomething out, I have a network of support (and a shared document full of\nfamily recipes) to fall back on. I\u2019m grateful for every person, place, and\nplate that produced my palate.<\/p>\n\n\n\n By Dawn Mischele Arn When I was a child, my papaw was my culinary hero. He would come over for lunch some Sundays, and I was always so excited to see him. I remember a time when I could barely wrap my little arms around half of his belly. Every single time, he would […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":26,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":[],"categories":[4],"tags":[],"geo":{"latitude":48.3286476,"longitude":4.1058083,"description":"Pont-Sainte-Marie, Grand Est, 10150, FR"},"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/wordpress.evergreen.edu\/cefie-portfolio-s20-arn\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/96"}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/wordpress.evergreen.edu\/cefie-portfolio-s20-arn\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/wordpress.evergreen.edu\/cefie-portfolio-s20-arn\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/wordpress.evergreen.edu\/cefie-portfolio-s20-arn\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/26"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/wordpress.evergreen.edu\/cefie-portfolio-s20-arn\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=96"}],"version-history":[{"count":7,"href":"https:\/\/wordpress.evergreen.edu\/cefie-portfolio-s20-arn\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/96\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":121,"href":"https:\/\/wordpress.evergreen.edu\/cefie-portfolio-s20-arn\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/96\/revisions\/121"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/wordpress.evergreen.edu\/cefie-portfolio-s20-arn\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=96"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/wordpress.evergreen.edu\/cefie-portfolio-s20-arn\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=96"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/wordpress.evergreen.edu\/cefie-portfolio-s20-arn\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=96"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}![\"\"](\"https:\/\/wordpress.evergreen.edu\/cefie-portfolio-s20-arn\/wp-content\/uploads\/sites\/329\/2020\/05\/mamaw-2.png\")
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Me, Danielle (sister), Ben (brother), Grandma, Ethan (cousin), Aunt Erica, Uncle Grant, Jeannette (mom), and Steve (stepdad)
Photograph taken by Opa, my grandfather, who prefers to remain behind the camera.<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"