Nanticoke Catfish

"The Black watermen of the Chesapeake Bay have the same kind of impact as the Tuskeegee Airmen, the same impact as the Buffalo Soldier. But their story is just beginning to be told." 

-- Vincent O. Leggett, Author

African-American watermen were pioneers. Yet, unlike the Tuskeegee Airmen and the Buffalo Soldier, the story of these watermen is as old as the story of the United States. As the British brought slaves to the Chesapeake Bay area, slave-owners put them to work on vessels that plied the waters to catch fish, along with harvesting oysters and crabs. Yet, the waters were more than work, they were a way to freedom and economic independence. 

As early as 1796, the federal government began issuing Seaman Protection Certificates. Such a certificate declared that its holder, an African-American, was a citizen of the United States. Certificate holders were often referred to as "Black Jacks." They were free from the bondage of slavery (as illustrated by Frederick Douglass, who borrowed a certificate from a friend to make his way out of the slave-owning, eastern shore of Maryland to the freedom of Philadelphia, Pennsylvania). But, they were not free from the discrimination and oppression of a racist society, economy and government.  African-Americans still suffered under unjust laws that restricted what they could do on the water. For example, Maryland passed a law that prohibited African-Americans from owning a boat large enough that it had to be registered (and, of course, large enough to engage in oystering, finfishing, crabbing, and other work). They often depended upon lax enforcement, or white bosses, to make it possible to work. 

The Civil War freed African-Americans from the bonds of slavery, but not the racist discrimination and segregation that remained and reconstituted itself under Jim Crow laws. Yet, even under these awful conditions, African Americans found freedom and independence, both on the water and adjacent to it. African American watermen continued to serve as captain and crew on vessels, many of which had white owners, but the watermen were able to earn enough to support themselves and their families. They benefited from a larger economic environment, one in which oysters and fish from the bay were in high demand. 

Downes Curtis

African-Americans were also able to establish their economic independence along the coasts, setting up their own businesses related to the seafood industry. Take, for example, the story of Downes Curtis, one of the only African-American sailmakers in the Chesapeake Bay region. Downes and his brother learned the craft from Dave Pritchett, an English sailmaker, in Oxford, Maryland. After Pritchett died, the Downes Curtis continued the business. They cut sails for log canoes and oysterboats in a building that once served as a school for African-American children.  (Today, the building is a private residence). Curtis built up a business that not only served African-Americans working on the bay, for vessels that raced its waters, like the Island Blossom. Curtis continued this work until 1996, when he died at age 85.

African-American Watermen working on a
fishing boat outside of Alexandria, VA 

Back on the waters, African-American watermen continued to captain and work on vessels up and down the Bay. They also developed their work methods, including the use of work songs or shantys. The use of such songs can be traced to early customs of African slaves working on plantations. Watermen used work songs to coordinate their work pulling up fish nets, such as the nets used to catch menhaden. As explained by William Hudnall, who organized a group of watermen who sing the shantys: The harmony brings everyone together on the same chord at the same time, and that's what made the work easier." The songs are sung by leaders and workers, with the former calling first followed by the response of the latter. Together, they would haul in the large purse seine nets, inch by inch, until the menhaden were on board. This tradition disappeared with the advent of mechanical equipment that could haul the nets onboard. The songs went silent for years and then decades.

During that time and thereafter, the maritime industry on the Chesapeake Bay plummeted with the populations of oysters, finfish and blue crab. It became harder for African-American watermen, and, indeed all watermen, to continue their trade. That has resulted not only in fewer fishing vessels working the bay, but also in the potential loss of a very rich history. Given the significant contribution that African Americans have made to the Chesapeake Bay seafood industry, both on and off the water, its preservation has become an important issue. Their history is American history. The only difference is that it is not widely taught, if taught at all, in schools and universities. If you want to learn about it, as I did, you have to spend a lot of time on the Internet or visiting museums to learn their stories. 

After spending a lot of time reading on this subject, I decided to prepare a dish that honored the history of African-American watermen on the Chesapeake Bay. I turned my search to finding an appropriate dish. My search led me to Vincent Leggett, a person who dedicated his life to preserving the history of these watermen and telling their story to present day audiences. Leggett wrote a book, The Chesapeake Bay Through Ebony Eyes, which inclued recipes. One of those recipes is Nanticoke Catfish. The name references the Nanticoke River, a tributary of the bay that runs through the eastern shore of Maryland. (Nanticoke comes from the Algonquin word nantaquak, which means "tidal people."). It is a basic fried fish dish, using catfish that could be found along the eastern shore. While such a dish would have been typically prepared with the indigenous catfish, like a brown bullhead, it can be enjoyed today by using blue catfish, an invasive species that is wreaking havoc in the bay. 

NANTICOKE CATFISH

Recipe from Vincent O. Leggett, The Chesapeake Bay Through Ebony Eyes 

and available here

Serves 8

Ingredients:

• 1 1/2 cups all purpose flour
• 1/4 cup cornmeal
• 1 tablespoon rubbed sage
• 1 tablespoon cayenne pepper, or to taste
• 1 teaspoon garlic powder 
• 1 teaspoon onion powder
• 1/2 teaspoon nutmeg
• 1 teaspoon salt
• 1 teaspoon black pepper
• 4 large eggs
• 8 catfish fillets
• Vegetable oil

Directions:

1. Prepare the batter or breading. Mix the flour, cornmeal, sage, cayenne pepper, garlic powder, onion powder, nutmeg, salt and pepper in a shallow bowl or pie plate. In another shallow bowl or pie plate, whisk the eggs until well beaten. 

2. Prepare the fish. Rinse the catfish fillets under cold running water and pat them dry. 

3. Prepare the oven. Preheat the oven to 250 degrees Fahrenheit. Set a wire rack inside a rimmed baking sheet lined with paper towels. 

4. Prepare the oil. Pour vegetable oil to a depth of 1/2 inch in a large, deep skillet. Heat theoil over medium-high heat until shimmering but not smoking. 

5. Prepare the fillets. Dip the fillets into the eggs and let the excess drip off. Dredge them in the flour mixture and gently shake off the excess.

6. Fry the fillets. Working in batches to avoid overfilling the skillet, slip the fillets into the hot oil. Fry the fillets, turning once, about 4 minutes on each side, until the coating is crisp and golden brown and the fish is opaque in the center. Transfer the cooked fish to the wire rack and keep them warm in the oven until all of the fish fillets are fried. Serve hot with lemon wedges.

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Post Script: William Hudnall organized the Northern Neck Chantney Singers, a group of African-American watermen who would do a lot to preserve these work songs used in the menhaden fishing industry for future generations. To listen to their work, as well as learn about their history, check out this YouTube video:

PEACE.

Turkey Giblets a la Bourgeoisie

"... if it be true that real happiness consists in making others happy, the author can at least feel a sense of gratification in the thought that his attempts to satisfy the cravings of the inner man have not been wholly un-appreciated by the any he has had the pleasure of serving...."

-- Rufus Estes

Rufus Estes has a story, and quite the story it is. He was born a slave in 1857 in Murray County, Tennessee. He was the youngest of a family that included seven boys and two girls, all of whom -- with their mother -- were owned by D.J. Estes. When the Civil War broke out, the male slaves ran away to join the Union forces, leaving the younger kids to work the plantations. Rufus carried water from the spring to the house, drove cattle to and from the pasture, and did other work. 

After the war ended, Rufus's mother moved her family to Nashville, Tennessee. Rufus sought work, whether it was milking cows (for which he was paid $2.00 per month) or carrying hot dinners to workers in the field (for which he was paid $0.25 per month), Rufus gave all of his earnings to his mother. By the age of sixteen, Rufus got work at Hemphills, a fine dining establishment in Nashville. By the age of twenty-four, he had emigrated north and found a job at a restaurant in Chicago. 

Rufus Estes

Two years later, Rufus Estes started on a track that would define the rest of his life. He got a job with the Pullman Service, which he held for fourteen years. Estes recalled that "some of the most prominent people in the world traveled in the car assigned to me, as I was selected to handle all special parties." The "special parties" included Henry Morton Stanley, the explorer; two Presidents, Grover Cleveland and Benjamin Harrison; and many others.  After leaving the Pullman Service, Estes was hired to run a private car for the president of the Kansas City, Pittsburg & Gould Railroad, which he worked from 1897 to 1907, and, thereafter, he worked as a chef for United States Steel Corporation in Chicago. 

After a career of serving as a chef to the rich and powerful, Rufes Estes became an author, writing Good Things to Eat as Suggested by Rufus: A Collection Practical Recipes for Preparing Meats, Game, Fowl, Fish, Puddings, Pastries, Etc. Published in 1911, his book represents one of the first cookbooks written and published by an African American chef. The recipes contained in that cookbook represent, in Estes' own words, "the labor of years." Estes' labor opens windows into the past, offering glimpses of what people prepared and ate during the turn of the 19th and 20th centuries, as well as views of what the elite ate in the palace cars that ran the rails from coast to coast. Dishes such as Bird's Nest Salad to Turkey Truffles (a "fat turkey" stuffed with a mixture that includes three to four pounds of truffles), that is not all, it also gives us a view into what the working class and poor ate as well, like Codfish Hash or Broiled Pig's Feet. 

I read Good Things to Eat and decided to prepare a recipe suggested by Rufus Estes. I wanted a recipe that could bridge the gap between the poor and the rich.  I wanted to prepare something that could have been just as likely to have been prepared for a working class person as it would some rich perosn. I found that dish in Turkey Giblets a la Bourgoisie. Estes's recipe uses the parts of a turkey -- the heart, gizzard, liver and turkey neck -- that most people would discard (especially today), and elevate those ingredients in a delicious way. The recipe produces a wonderful small plate or appetizer that can precede a roast turkey meal. I would suggest serving this dish with some toasted slices of bread, which guests could use to eat the flavorable mixture of turkey and herbs. 

Given I still have Rufus Estes's book, I plan on making more dishes suggested by the accomplished chef. All of these recipes, like this one, are part of my historical cooking journeys that are catalogued in my Federal Project Number One. So, please check it out every once in a while. Until then ....

TURKEY GIBLETS A LA BOURGOISIE

Recipe from Rufus Estes, Good Things to Eat

Serves 2-3

Ingredients:

• Turkey giblets (pinions, feet, neck and gizzard)
• Piece of butter
• Flat leaf parsley
• Sprig of thyme
• Green onions
• Garlic, 1 clove
• Bay Leave
• Flour, spoonful
• Stock, spoonful
• Salt
• Pepper

Directions:

The giblets of the turkey consist of the pinions, feet, neck and gizzard. After having scalded pick them well and put in a saucepan wiht a piece of butter, some parsley, green onions, clove of garlic, sprig of thyme, bay leaf, a spoonful of fluor moistened with stock, salt and pepper. Brown to a good color. 

PEACE.

Crisfield Crab Cakes

Five weeks in Crisfield, Maryland, beginning on April 6, 1938 and running through May 10, 1938. Each and every day of that time period encapsulated much of the economic and social history of the United States throughout the twentieth century. Those five weeks not only summarize who we were then, but who we remain to this day. That summary is not only a story about our strengths, but also of our darker side. 

The five weeks marked the start and end of the Maryland Crab Pickers' Strike. 

Part One: A Little Background

For much of the late 19th and early 20th centuries, Crisfield was known as the "Seafood Capital," not only of the Chesapeake Bay, but the entire world. While that capitol was built upon oyster shells (literally, as the shells were used as landfill to support the construction of buildings in the town), its lifeblood soon depended upon the blue crab. Watermen would dock at the Crisfield port and unload bushel after bushel of blue crabs. Those bushels were destined for the crab picking houses that lined the waterfront.  By 1938, Crisfield accounted for 13% of Maryland's blue crab catch, which amounted to more than 25,000 barrels. 

Yet, in 1938, the city of Crisfield was still in the grips of the depression. It was estimated that as much as 90% of the city's residents were unemployed. However, the waterfront was open for business, with 15 crab picking houses operating with workforces that consisted overwhelmingly of African-American women. The women worked long hours, sometimes 10 hours, 12 hours or even 16 hours per day. They earned only $0.35 cents per gallon of crab meat that they picked. That translated into about $1.00 to $1.50 of earnings per week. (Adjusted for inflation, the high end of that range would equal $33.76 of income per week in 2026.) And they did not even get all of that money at the end of the day, as the African-American women were forced to pay a $0.35 weekly charge back to their employer for the removal of the crab shells that picked.  So, in the end they were making $.65 to $1.35 per week for a job that required long hours of work in very bad conditions. 

Part Two: The Strike Begins

On April 4, 1938, the owners of the crab picking houses decided that they would reduce wages by nearly 29% from $0.35 per quart to $0.25 per quart. Although the owners claimed "economic conditions" forced them to make these cuts, the reality was that the owners expected that their workforce -- which was overwhelmingly comprised of African-American women -- would accept cut given they had jobs in a city that was wracked by unemployment. 

African-American women crab pickers in Crisfield, Maryland in or around 1938.
(Source: Chesapeake Bay Maritime Museum and the Chesapeake Bay Magazine)

The owners were wrong. 

What happened next has to be viewed in a larger context. For years, there had been labor issues involving crab-picking operations up and down the Eastern Shore. In 1931, crab-pickers went on strike when the owners reduced the rates from $0.35 to $0.25 per gallon. The strike started with about 300 crab pickers, who marched door to door throughout Crisfield seeking support. Their ranks swelled by another 700 to 800 pickers. The strikers were largely African-American women, but about 100 of the strikers were white. They also got the support of the oyster shuckers working in the town. The owners backed off and restored the rates. 

Several years later, in 1937, the Congress of Industrial Organizations ("CIO") launched organizng drives among the all of the workers on the Eastern Shore. The CIO's biggest target was a seafood packing plant owned by Phillips in Cambridge, Maryland. The campaign involved over 2,000 black and white workers; and it culminated in a two week strike for wage increases and union recognition. The strikers were unsuccessful. However, that same year, the CIO successfully organized a crab picking house in Crisfield, Maryland. 

Thus, in 1938, the scene had been set. There had been prior strikes and prior union organizing, ending in both defeat and victory.  These factors may have been missed by the owners of the packing houses, but my guess is that they were known to the workers. Consequently, when the owners reduced the rates by five cents a quart, the African-American women who picked crabs went on strike. Six hundred of them struck, basically shutting down nearly all crab picking operations in Crisfield. The strike lasted for five weeks. And, a tumultuous five weeks it was. 

Part Three: The Violence

The strikers would meet at the Shiloh United Methodist Church on North Fourth Street. The strike committee would hold meetings there. They also had the assistance of the CIO, who sent an organizer, Michael Howard, who worked for the United Cannery, Agricultural, Packing and Allied Workers union. (This was the same union that lost the strike the prior year in Cambridge, MD.) Howard and other union organizers worked with unions and churches in Baltimore, Maryland to raise funds to support the strikers.  The funds were needed because the packinghouses had been putting pressure on local businesses to deny credit to the strikers and their families.

An excerpt from an African-American newspaper
in Baltimore, MD about the burning of Michael
Howard's car. The Shiloh Church is in the 
background. (Source: Bay to Bay News)

As the strike continued, the situation deteriorated as racism was injected into the strike. A white crowd numbering between 100 and 300 people gathered near the Shiloh Church. The crowd was searching for the CIO Organizer, Michael Howard, and another organizer named Terry Fowler. They stormed the home of two sisters -- Eleanor Coulbourne and Martina Cooper -- seeking information about the CIO organizer. The white mob also overturned Howard's car, which was outside the church, and set it on fire. The mob threatened to "burn the whole block."  According to the Associated Press, "[t]he men were said to have been incensed because organizers had been seen often in the Negro settlement." According to oral history, Howard was hiding in Upturf, an African-American neighborhood on Collins Avenue, just outside of town.

As for the city's response, the Associated Press reported that the mayor blamed the events on "radical" and "hot headed" persons. As for the burning of the union organizer's car, the mayor was reported by another newspaper, The Afro American, to have said that he was unsure whether the mob burned the car or the car "caught fire itself."

White residents continued to target other union organizers, forcing CIO organizer Leif Dahl to leave town. They also confronted another organizer, who was from the Amalgamated Clothing Workers Union and in the area trying to organize 200 workers at a Boycraft factory. The white mob dragged the organizer down a dirt road before telling him to "to get out of town." The racist, anti-union white residents even forced a mediator from the Federal Mediation & Conciliation Service, to leave the city. They thought the mediator was Michael Howard. The residents eventually found Michael Howard and forced him to leave, to the sound of guns being fired in the air. 

The situation was dire for the African-American crab pickers who continued to strike. As one African-American newspaper summarized the situation: 

Observers here point out that the defiance of the packers is one of the most open revolts against the National Labor Relations Act and are watching to see what the NLRB will do in the Crisfield situation where both labor and racial rights have been invaded.

Indeed, the National Labor Relations Act -- the law passed to protect union organizing and regulate labor disputes that affected commerce -- was only three years old at the time. And, it faced a major challenge in Crisfield Maryland. 

Part Four: A Major Victory for Workers

Having been expelled from Crisfield, CIO organizer Michael Howard went to Washington, D.C. with three strikers to meet with federal mediators, government officials and elected leaders. The United Cannery, Agricultural, Packing and Allied Workers union also filed unfair labor practice charges protesting the unlawful conduct of the packing houses. Those employers were facing pressures of their own, as watermen started selling their crabs in other towns, creating the potential of lost business going forward. 

On May 9, 1938, most of the large packing houses agreed to the workers' demands, both to restore the wage rate to $0.35 per quart and to recognize their union. Organizer Michael Howard returned to Crisfield met with representatives from eight packinghouses and negotiated a collective bargaining agreement covering the workers. The employers recognized the union and restored the wage rates. The agreement was signed on May 10, 1938, and it represented one of the first collective bargaining agreements covering seafood processing workers on the east coast. 

By 1942, the union would go on to organize oyster shuckers at several Crisfield facilities; and, by 1948, the union -- now known as Seafood Workers Local 453, would become the exclusive bargaining representative for all packinghouses in Crisfield, Maryland. Over the next four decades, from the 1950s to the 1980s, Local 453 negotiated wage increases, safer working conditions and other terms and conditions of employment for these workers. 

Part Five: In the End

My hope is that when someone looks at a crabcake, such as this Crisfield crab cake, it will lead to an understanding of the history that lies within its slightly crispy exterior and the lump meat that resides within. That history is out there for those who look for it. And, the history continues to be written each and every day. Since the 1938 strike, the crab picking industry continued on, although on a decline that corresponded with the populations of blue crabs in the bay. The demographics of the workforce changed over time, going from one that was predominantly African-American women to one today that is predominantly Latino. 

Yet, we live in a time where history is being manipulated and whitewashed. The struggles and triumphs of African-American women -- such as going on a five-week strike to obtain one of the first crab-picking collective bargaining agreements -- are being erased, especially where those struggles overcome the virulent racism of white men and women. The efforts to hide the racism result in the loss of what truly makes this country great ... the hard effort and sacrifice of its people in pursuit of a better life. 

And, on this May Day, celebrate those sacrifices and triumphs with a crabcake from the one-time Seafood Capital of the World. 

CRISFIELD CRAB CAKES

Recipe adapted from many sources in and around Crisfield

Serves 4-5

Ingredients:

• 1 pound crab meat, backfin or lump
• 12 saltine crackers, finely crushed
• 3 tablespoons mayonnaise
• 1/4 cup milk
• 1 egg, beaten
• 1 tablespoon prepared mustard
• Salt, to taste
• Pepper, to taste
• Butter
• Vegetable oil

Directions;

1. Prepare the crab mixture. In a large bowl, combine the egg, mayonnaise, mustard, milk and seasonings. Mix well. Gently fold in the crabmeat and crushed crackers. Use a light touch to avoid breaking up the large pieces of crabmeat. 

2. Prepare the crab cakes: Drop the mixture by the tablespoon onto a well greased cookie sheet. Refrigerate the cakes for at least 30 to 60 minutes before cooking. 

3. Cook the crab cakes. One option is to place a sliver of butter on top of each cake and broil for 3 minutes, moving to the bottom of the oven and baking for 15 minutes at 350 degrees Fahrenheit until golden brown. Another option is to heat the butter or oil in a heavy skillet for 3-4 minutes per side until crispy. 

*     *     *

Postscript: For more about the history of the Crisfield crab pickers, including earlier strikes, check out Washington Area Spark, who provides a very detailed account of those strikes, as well as the 1938 strike.

PEACE.

Chinese Grocery Roast Pork

The Mississippi delta has been described as a "haunted landscape," a beautiful backdrop of alluvial plains and coastal wetlands, marred by the brutal legacies of slavery and segregation. The history has been recorded in both the black and white of history books, but also in the colorful, yet melancholy, notes of delta blues musicians such as Robert Johnson, Charlie Patton and Son House. These musicians not only recorded the daily oppression, poverty and strugle of African Americans lives, but they also documented the resilience and strength of both the people and their communities. 

Yet, there are chapters of the delta's history that until, relatively recently, went largely untold. One such chapter revolves around the Chinese immigrants who settled in the Mississippi delta in the aftermath of the Civil War. These immigrants left their homes (primarily in the Guangdong and Canton provinces) in search of the Gam Sahn ("golden mountain"), akin to what we would call the "American dream." These Chinese immigrants ended up on the same cotton plantations previously worked by African-American slaves. They performed the same back-breaking work. The only difference was that the white owners had to pay the Chinese immigrants for their labor. But, the pay was not enough to justify the hard work, let alone support a family either in the United States or back home in China.  

Consequently, many Chinese laborers left the cotton fields, looking for work elsewhere. They made their way to nearby cities, where they established themselves in the community by opening grocery stores. The first such stores began to appear in the 1870s. The work continued to be hard, with early mornings and late nights, but these Chinese-Americans took control of their economic lives. They also relied upon hui, their relatives, to open additional grocery stores. Soon, Chinese-owned grocery stores proliferated across the Mississippi Delta. In the city of Greenville, Mississippi -- an important transit point for transportation between New Orleans, Louisiana and points north -- had 40,000 residents and 50 Chinese-owned grocery stores.  

One of the first Chinese-owned grocery stores in Greenville, MS, at the corner of Washington
Avenue and Walnut Street, photo taken  in 1939 by Farm Security Admin. photographer
Marion Post Wolcott, available at the Library of Congress (Source: KPBS)

The successful exertion by Chinese-Americans of their economic independence had its limits in the racially structured, white supremacist society. The Chinese were not "White" or "Colored," falling into a third category. The Chinese-Americans did not suffer the extreme violence suffered by African-Americans, but they nevertheless suffered from discrimination and segregation. It was in this space that the Delta Chinese soon found that they too had limited opportunities. the only employment available to them involved owning or working in these grocery stores. 

Chinese-Americans navigated within this space. And they did so in a very historically significant way. The Chinese-American owned grocery stores served as critical lifelines for the most oppressed people in the Mississippi delta: the African-American community. The same white supremacist racial and economic order that confined the Chinese to owning and/or working in grocery stores made it difficult, if not impossible for African-Americans to go to white-owned grocery stores.  

Chinese store owners purchased goods from white-owned wholesalers. They then stocked the shelves with foodstuffs (like flour, sugar, canned goods), clothing, farms tools, and much more. However, these grocery stores provided more than a place for African-Americans to purchase what they needed. The stores provided a social environment where African Americans were respected: they could walk through the front door of a store (rather than through the back door) and would be treated with civility. The Chinese-American grocery store owners would offer lower prices and were the only ones to extend credit to African-American sharecroppers, who were paid only once or twice per year.  The two communities -- Chinese and African-American -- worked together in solidarity as they struggled to survive the racist economy, government and society that operated violently along the Mississippi River and across the delta.

(As an aside, immigrant communities in other cities -- like the Italians in Birmingham, Alabama and New Orleans, Louisiana -- also operated grocery stores that served the African-American community.)

Picture exhibited in 2023 at the Mississippi Delta Chinese Heritage Museum,
located at the Delta State University in Cleveland, Mississippi

The grocery stores were not only the business of the Chinese-American communities, they were also their homes. Because of the racist Chinese Exclusion Act, Chinese-Americans could not own land. They usually lived in the back of their stores or in adjacent structures. Many of the memories of Chinese-American children revolve around food, which also served as the focal point of gatherings among their community.

After learning about the Chinese-American community in the Mississippi delta, as well as their relationship with their African-American neighbors, I wanted to prepare a dish in recognitionof and to honor that history. I found a recipe for Chinese Grocery Roast Pork. This recipe was perfect: it took a traditional Chinese recipe -- Char Siu, which is usually prepared with pork belly -- but used a cut of pork that is synonymous with the iconic southern barbecue: the pork butt.

CHINESE GROCERY ROAST PORK (MISSISSIPPI STYLE CHAR SIU)

Recipe adapted from James Beard Organization 

Serves 6

Ingredients:

• 1 tablespoon vegetable oil
• 4 green onions, white and green parts, chopped
• 2 garlic cloves, minced
• 1 teaspoon grated peeled fresh ginger
• 1 cup dark soy sauce
• 1/2 cup dry sherry
• 1/2 cup rice vinegar (preferably red)
• 1 tablespoon honey
• 2 tablespoons dark brown sugar
• 1 tablespoon hoisin sauce
• 1 star anise
• 2-inch piece cinnamon stick
• 1/4 teaspoon five spice powder
• 1 3-pound shoulder of pork (Boston butt)

Directions:

1.  Prepare the sauce. Heat the oven to 325 degrees Fahrenheit. In a large Dutch oven or roasting pan, heat the oil over medium heat. Add the onions, garlic and ginger and cook for 1 minute. Add the soy sauce, sherry, vinegar, honey, brown sugar, hoisin sauce, anise, cinnamon and five-spice powder. Simmer for 1 minute. Add 1 cup of water and bring to a boil. Reduce the heat under the pan so that the mixture simmers. 

2. Roast the pork. Loosen the skin from the meat in several places, but do not remove it. Place the meat in the liquid, turning several times to coat it with the sauce. Transfer the pot to the oven. Cook for 30 minutes undisturbed, then baste with the cooking liquid and continue to baste every 20 minutes until the internal temperature of the meat is between 170 and 180 degrees Fahrenheit, about 4 to 4 1/2 hours. 

3. Finish the dish.  Remove the pork to a cutting board or serving platter and let rest for 10 minutes. Slice thinly and pour the pan juices over the meat, removing the star anise and cinnamon. 

*     *     *

Postscript: To learn more about the experience of Chinese-Americans in the Mississippi Delta, I recommend watching The Untold Story of America's Southern Chinese. Part 2 of the series focuses upon the Chinese in the Mississippi Delta and their history in the region. 

I also recommend the movie, Far East Deep South. Written and directed by Larissa, Lam, the movie follows the story of the Chiu family as they learn more about their family's history and roots in the Mississippi delta. It is availalbe on Tubi. I watrched the movie. Not only is it very informative, it was truly moving to watch and learn alongside the family. 

 PEACE.

New York City Oyster Pan Roast

"No, I do not weep at the world - I am too busy sharpening my oyster knife."

- Zora Neale Hurston, Dust Tracks on a Road

 

Oysters possess an amazing power: they can enable individuals and, indeed, entire communities, to overcome the economic, political, and social structures that are built to deprive and marginalize them. This power has been demonstrated, time and time again, throughout the history of the United States. But, perhaps, the one example that can best illustrate the uplifting potential of oysters involves a dish known as the New York City Oyster Pan Roast. 

To truly understand the example, one must go in 1791. In that year, Thomas Downing was born on Chincoteague Island, Virginia, to two African-American parents. At that time and in that State, slavery reigned. And, Downings parents had been slaves. But, their slave master -- Captain John Downing, a wealthy landowner in Oak Hall -- converted to Methodism, which condemned slavery. Captain Downing freed all of his slaves, including Thomas Downing's parents. As freed slaves, his parents were able to buy a small tract of land, where they settled and where Thomas Downing was born in 1791. 

While a part of the State of Virginia, Chincoteague Island provided somewhat of a refuge from the larger world. It was a landscape where Thomas Downing could learn to handle a boat amongst the barrier islands and fish the waters. Those waters were also teeming with oyster beds, providing Thomas with the opportunity to harvest oysters, developing a keen eye for which ones were the best. 

The refuge of Chincoteague Island could not keep out history. As the War of 1812 commenced, Thomas Downing (then age 21) joined the Army and marched north to Philadelphia, Pennsylvania, where he was stationed. After the war ended, Downing stayed in Philadelphia, where he met his wife and started a family that included four sons and a daughter. Downing also got a job working in an oyster bar, and he eventually opened his own bar. During that time, Downing learned that many freed African-Americans went further north to New York City, where they worked on oyster vessels and in the oyster industry. Downing decided to take his family and follow that path.

Census records reveal that Downing made the move to New York City by 1819, where he was registered as an oysterman. But, he was his own oysterman. Downing rented a skiff and plied the waters in the New Jersey flats to harvest oysters, whether by dredging, plucking or tonging. As writer Cameron Oglesby once observed, "oystering was a profession that allowed Black men to act as their own bosses providing a new and liberating sense of self and economic independence from White industrial America." Downing was living proof of that statement at the time.  

More importantly, even though Downing was living and working in the North, where slavery had been outlawed, he still had to endure discrimination and oppression from a white society that did not view him as an equal. Downing had a plan to overcome those obstacles: he would open an oyster bar, or oyster cellar, as they were known in New York City. But not just any oyster cellar. 

Present day location of where Thomas Downing's
Oyster House once stood. (Source: Robt. Wright)

At the time, oyster cellars in New York City had a certain ill repute. Many oyster cellars were rough places, found in basements that could be located with a red balloon flying outside the door. Thomas Downing chose 5 Broad Street in lower Manhattan for his business. That location was just a short walk to the centers of economic power, such as the Merchant Exchange, Wall Street, and the Customs House. While oysters were a food enjoyed by everyone, from the poor to the rich, Downing understood that the wealthy would pay a lot more for the same food. His oyster bar would focus on bringing in that wealthier clientele. 

Thomas Downing opened his oyster cellar in 1825, which could be found in the basement of 5 Broad Street. He used the network of friends that he made while working as an oysterman to procure the oysters for his restaurant. He even used his skiff to go out onto the waters early in the morning to meet those friends and procure the best oysters before they even reached the shore, let alone the market. Downing also utilized print advertisements in newspapers to promote his restaurant, including an ad in the March, 30, 1938 edition of the New York Herald that read: 

Oysters! - Oysters!  - Oysters!

The above article may be had in their prime at Downing's. I take this method of informing my customers that I have a better stock of oysters on hand at present, than I have had this season. The lovers of the above article can (I feel assured) be fully satisfied by calling at my establishment. It is with pleasure that I say that I can give my customers a better Oyster at present, than I could at any time this eason. Strangers who have any doubts as regard to the superiority of the New York Oysters, have only to call and try, and be satisfied.

Thomas Downing, 5 Broad St.

N.B. I have a lot of Pickled Oysters on hand for importation.

Downing also used advertisements to draw in customers for other dishes he served, including "a turtle of rather a singular description." His hard work paid off: he built up a clientele of rich white people who spent a lot of money at his establishment. He was able to expand his restaurant, leasing 3 Broad Street and 7 Broad Street, creating a dining room with fine carpeting, chandeliers, mirrors and damask curtains. He was also able to utilize the steam generated underground to create a "vault" that allowed for oysters to remain fresh until they were ready to be prepared and served. His business only grew from there, with additional restaurants opening in other parts of the city, as well as a growing export business that sent oysters up and down the eastern coast, as well as overseas. By 1857, Thomas Downing had a net worth of $100,000, which would be the equivalent of $3,723,862 in today's dollars. Downing was the richest African American and indeed richer than most white Americans when slavery gripped half of the nation and exploited most African Americans. 

At his fine dining establishment, Thomas Downing served oysters in a variety of ways: scalloped oysters, oyster pie, turkey stuffed with oysters, as well as "oysters roasted on a gridiron over oak shavings."  Yet, the one dish that has survived over time, and for which Thomas Downing is best known, is his New York City Oyster Pan Roast. 

I found a recipe for a Thomas Downing-inspired New York City Oyster Pan Roast, which was adapted from a recipe developed by Albert Lukas, the supervising chef at the Sweet Home Cafe, which is located in the Smithsonian National Museum for African American History and Culture. 

The key to the recipe and, in fact, the entire dish is the sauce. The sauce is prepared with shallots, along with white wine, oyster liqueur (the liquid in the oysters when shucked), Worcestershire sauce, chili sauce, and hot sauce. The butter and heavy cream add thickness to the sauce, along with this relatively white color. The sauce serves as the base in which the oysters are "pan-roasted" only for a few minutes. The goal is to firm up the sides, making them plumper without overcooking them. The dish is completed by portioning the oysters in shallow bowls, ladling some of the sauce over them, and serving them with toasted, buttered bread, which can be used to mopping up the sauce.

NEW YORK CITY OYSTER PAN ROAST

Recipe from the Washington Post

Serves 6

Ingredients:

• 12 baguette slices, for serving 
• 3 tablespoons unsalted butter, 1 of them melted
• 1 medium shallot, minced
• 1/2 cup dry white wine
• 3 dozen freshly shucked oysters, preferably from the bay
• 1 cup oyster liqueur
• 3 teaspoons chile sauce
• 1 tablespoon Worcestershire sauce
• 1 cup heavy cream
• Generous 1/4 teaspoon Tabasco sauce

Directions:

1. Toast the baguette slices. Preheat the oven to 375 degrees Fahrenheit. Arrange the baguette slices flat on a baking sheet and brush the tops of each one using the tablespoon of melted butter. Bake on the middle rack for 12 to 16 minutes until golden brown. Remove from the oven and let cool. 

2. Saute the shallots.  Meanwhile, heat 1 tablespoon of the butter in a large saucepan over medium low heat. Stir in the shallot and cook for 5 to 8 minutes until tender, then add the wine. Increase the heat to medium and cook for 10 to 15 minutes or until the liquid is reduced by half. Stir in the oyster liquor and cook just long enough for the mixture to begin bubbling at the edges. 

3. Continue cooking. Add the chile sauce, Worcestershire sauce and cream, stirring to blend well. Cook for two minutes, then reduce the heat to medium low; add the oysters and stir to coat. Cook for 2 minutes, being careful not to overcook them. Gently stir in the Tabasco sauce and the remaining tablespoon of butter with the saucepan until thoroughly incorporated. Remove from the heat.

4. Finish the dish. To serve, place 6 oysters into wide shallow bowls (6 bowls total) and then ladle the chile cream sauce over the oysters in each bowl. Garnish each with 2 baguette slices.

*     *     *

Postscript: While Thomas Downing found his independence, both self and economic, through serving oysters to white America, he never forgot the larger backdrop to his success. Downing offered his Broad Street restaurant as a stop on the Underground Railroad, where he hid fugitive slaves from the 1830s until the end of slavery in the 1860s. He also fought to restore the rights of African American men to vote, which had been effectively taken away when the State of New York passed a law requiring them to be residents for at least 3 years and own at least $250 worth of property. While that effort failed, Thomas Downing continued to be a staunch abolitionist and advocate for African-American rights. 

Downing also continued to be a victim of the white supremacist system and society in this country. For example, in 1840, Downing refused to exit a white's only railroad car. The railroad agents forcibly removed Downing from the car, using considerable violence. According to court records from Downing's lawsuit against the agents, they "struck him under the ear, ..., beat and kicked him, broke his hat and forced him violently from the car." The jury, which was most likely comprised of all white people, found the agents "not guilty." 

The lesson is that there are ways for marginalized and suppressed peoples to find their independence, but the only true way for them to achieve equality with the oppressors is to change a system built upon white supremacy. Since Downing's death in 1866, our country made advancements toward that change, but the problematic system remains intact; and, in recent months, the white supremacists are now reasserting themselves. Our path forward remains unwritten. We can still work toward a diverse, equitable and inclusive society, or the current system, which primarily benefits one group of people, will remain in place. Only time will tell.... 

PEACE. 

Hamdi's Fried Livers

"... anyone, from any corner of the world, can come to live in the United States and become an American." 

-- President Ronald Reagan

I cannot believe that I am quoting President Reagan, but here we are. The ol' Gipper has been gone for some time. Now, in his place, we have a warped megaphone, our forty-seventh President. He loudly screeches racist, white supremacist attacks against minority communities. Those attacks echo throughout our billionaire-owned media outlets and social media platforms, reaching practically every corner of our country. One statement, like the President's description of the Somali community in the United States as "garbage," can rumble across the country like an earthquake, shaking the foundation of our society, as the media repeats those statements like aftershocks.

The foundation of our country is a unique social experiment. However, unlike most experiments, the result does not exist in a fixed moment in time. It is not July 4, 1776, when our founders signed the Declaration of Independence or September 17, 1787, when our Constitution was signed. It isn't even some point in the 1940s or 1950s, when Normal Rockwell was producing his artwork.  The results of this unique experiment are measured over years, decades, and even centuries. 

Moreover, the subjects of the experiment -- Americans -- are not defined by any outward manifestation, such as skin color or gender. We are not even defined by what we believe, such as our religion. Who we are as Americans is defined by something far greater, something that transcends each individual. 

That "someting far greater" is what guided Somalis who made their way to this country. And, in fact, Somalis have been coming to the United States since at least the 1920s. The Somalis who settled here became U.S. citizens; and, a few decades later, when Somalia finally became an independent nation in 1960, they were joined by Somali students seeking a better education in this country. As the new country succumbed to internal turmoil, resulting in the eventual ouster of the socialist dictator Mohammed Siad Barre in 1991 and the collapse of the government thereafter, even more Somalis fled to our country, looking for a better life or themselves and their families in a more peaceful place. 

Over time, Somali-American communities emerged across the United States. It is estimated that there are 260,000 Somalis living in the United States. The largest Somali-American community can be found in the "Land of 10,000 Lakes," because Minnesotans are known for their martisoor or "hospitality," which reflects the Somalis' own values. As they settled in our country, most became citizens. Of the foreign-born Somalis in our country, 87% of them have become naturalized citizens. They chose to become Americans. They have also become a part of the workforce, contributing their talents, knowledge and skills to help the economy, locally, state-wide, and nationally. For example, in the State of Minnesota, the Somali-American community generates at least $500 million in income annually, and pays $67 million in state and local taxes. (Statistics like these are repeated, over and over again, community by community of immigrants, migrants and refugees who come to this country.)

To be certain, the history of the United States is scarred and potmarked with racism, ethno-phobia and intolerance towards those who come to this country seeking a better life. Those scars remind us of the worst in ourselves, which prevents us from truly making America great: people come to our country looking for a better life for themselves and their families. They bring with them an incredible amount of potential, whether it is academic, artistic, economic, social, or, along the themes of this blog, culinary. Over the course of our history, our country has harnessed that potential in ways that benefitted everyone, including those whose families have lived in this country for centuries. But, if we wallow waist-deep in intolerance, or if we cling to myths like the United States being a white, male-dominated, christian nation (we have always been a polyglot of peoples and of a nation), then we are denying to ourselves our strongest asset and depriving everyone of better lives. 

Source: MN Natural History Museum

It is not the President's statements about the Somali community that motivated me to write this post. Instead, it was a cookbook, Soo Fariista, Come Sit Down. This book brings together recipes from Somali high school students who live in Minnesota. It is their collective effort to promote learning and understanding of their own culture and identity (something that has become a mission of my blog). They are sharing their culture and cuisine, showing how they have been able to bring their in an effort to find common ground with us. 

One particular recipe in the cookbook involves the preparation of fried liver. The recipe comes from a student, Hamdi, who ate fried liver while she traveled in east Africa. While that recipe created some "controversy" among the student authors, as it would for many youth in this country (few kids voluntarily eat liver), they all agreed that it was very Somali to eat liver. It also happens to be very Chef Bolek to eat liver. For that reason, I decided to make the recipe.

We all must acknowledge that the Somali community -- like all immigrant, migrant, or refugee communities in the United States -- are not trash, but treasures. The United States has many such treasures, but we can only recognize them if we accept that our country is not a melting pot, where everyone melts together in some grossly, thick white colored cheese that is supposed to coat every aspect of our economy, society and government. Instead, the United States is more like a mixed salad, perhaps a Somali Summer Salad, with separate ingredients coming together to add flavor to the overall dish. The combination of ingredients makes the end product -- the United States -- a better country. 

HAMDI'S FRIED LIVERS

Recipe provided by Hamdi to MPR News

Serves 4

Ingredients:

• 2 tablespoons olive oil
• 1 onion diced
• 1 green bell pepper, diced
• 1 pound goat or beef liver, chopped
• 2 tablespoons chicken bouillon
• Salt

Directions:

1. Saute the onion and peppers. Heat oil in a large cast-iron skillet until smoking. Add the onion and green pepper and cook, stirring frequently, until softened about 5 minutes.

2. Saute the liver. Add the liver and bouillon and cook for approximately 15 minutes, adding water if pan becomes dry. Season with salt to taste. 

*     *     *

Postscript: Finally, rather than listen to our current President attack communities within our country or the media repeat those attacks, I recommend taking less than five minutes to watch and listen to President Reagan speak about immigration (again, I can't believe I am saying that):

Those in the Somali-American community are living examples of what President Reagan spoke about so many years ago. They are part of what makes this country great and their desire to come to this country, seek out the American dream, and contribute to our country, giving much more than they receive while here. But, as President Reagan noted, their most important contribution is to renew our pride and gratitude in our country. When we defend communities like the Somali-Americans, we are also defending and honoring our country.

PEACE.

Captain Crockett's Last Breakfast

My beautiful Angel and our family spent our most recent summer vacation in the small town of Harborton, Virginia. The town is nestled about halfway down the eastern Shore of Virginia, along the Puncoteague Creek as that waterway empties into the Chesapeake Bay. I rented a small house right on the creek, with its own dock and a couple of adirondack chairs looking westward toward the Chesapeake Bay. The location was ideal: it was quiet and peaceful, which I think we all needed at that time. 

As it turns out, the house was separated from other homes by fairly large stretches of green grass, weeds and other plants. However, in the midst of that green expanse, there was a small "island" of overgrowth. One could see the paths of the lawnmowers, revealing that this island was maintained intentionally. The greenery grew freely within its confines, eclipsing much but not all of what was inside. For instance, I could see a stone marker protuding out of the green bushes and weeds. I decided to check out that marker and whatever else might be hiding on that "island." 

When I reached the edge, I realized that the marker was really a monument memorializing the death of a person. While it commemorated an end of a life, the marker also serves as the beginning of a story. 

The Life and Death of Captain James E. Crockett

The "island" with the marker.

The monument marks the grave of James E. Crockett, the son of Asa and Susan Crockett. Upon closer inspection, the entire "island" is the Crockett family cemetary, with other headstones peering out from the undergrowth. After doing some research, I was able to confirm that James' parents, Asa and Susan Crockett, are buried on the "island," along with several other family members. Pictures of the tombstones taken in 2015 can be seen here and here. 

As for the story, it begins with Sampson Crockett, who was born on Tangier Island, Virginia in 1700. Sampson was the great, great grandfather of Asa Crockett. Asa was born in 1822, in the small town of Prospect Neck. The town is located in Accomack County, on Virginia's eastern shore, not too far from where Asa was buried. Asa grew up on the eastern shore, working as a sailor and eventually becoming a captain of his own vessel. He married Susan Turner (who was born in 1821 or 1822). Asa eventually purchased seven acres of land in 1852 along the Puncoteague Creek, which included the land where our vacation house was located (although that house had not been built until 1958), along with twelve additional acres down the road. Together, that land formed the Crockett farm. 

Ten years later, in 1862, James Crockett was born to Asa and Susan Crockett. James followed in his father's footsteps, becoming a sailor and, by the age of 32, the captain of the schooner Frank Cassidy. A schooner is a sailing ship with at least two or three masts that could be used for various purposes, such as fishing or transporting goods. There is at least one written account of what Captain James Crockett and the Frank Cassidy did. It appeared in a local newspaper, Peninsula Enterprise, where it was reported that the schooner and its captain were planning to take "sweet and Irish potatoes" from Harborton, Virginia to Baltimore, Maryland. It seems likely that Captain Crockett and the crew of the Frank Cassidy were part of a network transporting goods up and down the Chesapeake Bay.

An example of a schooner (Source: Library of Congress)

Four years after that report, Captain Crockett made the news again on October 25, 1898. His vessel was anchored near Swan Point, which is along the shores of the Potomac River across from Colonial Beach, Virginia. The news went beyond the mundane of what was going where, to a much darker place.  

On the morning of October 25th, Captain James Crockett called upon the ship's cook, an African-American man named "Bob." The cook had recently joined the crew of the Frank Cassidy after his  release from a Maryland penitentiary. (Like his last name, Bob's crime and punishment are not known.) Captain Crockett ordered Bob to prepare breakfast. Bob went into the galley and prepared the meal, although it apparently took some time to complete. When Bob returned with breakfast, Captain Crockett took issue with the cook's tardiness.  A verbal altercation erupted between the Captain and the Cook, with the latter cursing at the Captain. Bob walked away and went to the galley. The cook returned with a gun and shot Captain James Crockett dead on the spot. Hearing the gunshot, the first mate, George Sturgis came to Captain Crockett's aid. However, Bob also shot Sturgis, grieviously wounding him. Other crew members ran to the scene; in the chaos that developed, Bob allegedly jumped overboard into the Potomac River. Bob did not know how to swim and he drowned.

Immediately thereafter, the remaining crew of the Frank Cassidy transported gravely-stricken Sturgis to nearby Colonial Beach, Virginia. They took Sturgis to Dr. J.W. Elsam, who began to tend to the first mate's wounds. Dr. Elsam ultimately determined that Sturgis needed to be transported to Washington, D.C. where there were better facilities. The crew and the doctor placed Sturgis on a steamer headed to Washington, D.C. Unfortunately, Sturgis did not survive the trip.  

As for their captain, the Frank Cassidy crew returned his body to the Crockett family, sailing the schooner down the Chesapeake Bay, into the Puncoteague Creek and all the way to Harborton, Virginia. Both Asa and and Susan were still alive (ages 76 and 74 respectively), along with some of James's siblings. Newspapers recounted at the time of ceremonies in connection with laying the body of James Crockett to rest. The grave was dug at the Crockett family farm, and the stone marker was put in place. That marker continues to be a reminder 127 years later of the life and death of Captain Crockett. 

The Puncoteague Creek, looking toward the Chesapeake Bay at sunset.

As for his parents, they lived on. Susan Crockett died suddently at her home just two years later in 1891. Asa Crockett died at age 85 in 1907, leaving behind his remaining children -- three sons (Captain B.F. Crockett of Onancock, VA; John Crockett of Newport News, VA; and Joseph Crockett of Mobile, Alabama) and three daughters.  After his death, the Crockett family farm was sold off to Charles E. Nichols (who owned it until at least 1961, if not later). And, for the most part, the rest is history. 

That Last Breakfast

Yet, there remains the issue of that last breakfast. The meal that led to Captain James Crockett's death. As I researched the Crocketts, I was -- and still am -- intrigued as to that very small aspect of the overall story. The actual contents of the meal were lost in memory and history within minutes of the violence aboard the Frank Cassidy. Any recreation of that meal would be an academic exercise.

Nevertheless, I decided to research the rather esoteric issue of what was served as breakfast on a schooner in 1898. My search led me to the Smithsonian's National Museum of American History, and, in particular, to a bell made in 1882 or 1883 (pictured to the right). It is a bell used by George W. Scott, a cook aboard a fishing schooner Ocean King that ran out of Glouchester, Massachusetts in the late nineteenth century. The Ocean King went out into the Atlantic Ocean around the same time that the Frank Cassidy was sailing up and down the Chesapeake Bay. 

The National Museum of American History provided the context that would help me in my search. A cook on a schooner was responsible for the provisions. Scott kept a record of the provisions he acquired for a four-month journey: 5 barrels of beef, 1 barrel pork, 1 barrel hams, 10 barrels flour, 50 gallons molasses, 15 bushels of potatoes and 200 pounds of butter. All of that food went toward the production of three meals per day. Breakfast consisted of items such as pancakes, potatoes and/or porridge. The second meal, dinner, consisted of a protein, usually meat or fish, served with a soup, baked beans, and bread or biscuits. The last meal of the day could have been just the leftovers. Each meal was announced by the ringing of a bell. 

I had thoughts of trying to re-create Captain Crockett's last meal ringing in my head for days and weeks after our vacation. The Frank Cassidy most likely carried some of the provisions found on the Ocean King. Yet, posting a recipe about pancakes, potatoes, or porridge did not seem to be a fitting ending to a story that led to the death of three people, Captain Crockett, first mate Sturgis and Bob.

A more fitting ending is the recognition that history can live on, as long as there are people interested in learning it and willing to retell it (as accurately as possible). 

PEACE.