The first time I made wine with my grand-uncle Andrew Lee, I saw a clear connection to our familyās past. Knowing when to harvest the muscadine grapes, how many weād need, how to process the fruit and cultivate the wild yeastālong before the internet existed, this crucial knowledge was passed down from generation to generation. Had it not been for my genuine curiosity and asking my forebears about how traditional foods are made, all of that knowledge could have been lost.
My ancestors have always been in a relationship with the land, and I honor them by continuing that relationship myself. Seed keeping, land stewardship, and feeding folks are all part of my familyās legacy, and itās critical to my inheritance as a child of rural culture. Thinking about the women and men in our lineage who knew cotton, indigo, rice, and tobacco before those things were commodifiedābefore that knowledge was exploitedāand reclaiming a relationship to these crops is a part of my work as a cultural preservationist.
As we begin to return, in fits and starts, to our pre-pandemic lives, I look forward to entertaining again, out under the old pine trees on our property in eastern North Carolina. I yearn to tell tales through the food I share, through the plants we grow and the seeds we keep. And Iāve been thinking about the menu: My dream dinner party would be a celebration of the Black griots, historians, and cultural preservationists who have been documenting the food from our diaspora proudly for decades.
First, Iād craft a summer fig and wild blackberry sangria, based on a peach wine recipe by Ms. Sallie Ann Robinson, a Gullah chef and cultural historian. Iāve been fascinated by seasonal fruit wines and brandy distillation, which are two of the practices Iām currently learning with the help of my 85-year-old grandfather, Mayfield, and my 77-year-old grand-uncle Andrew. The garden and fruit trees have been central to my understanding of food preservation.
Each year, the fruit thatās not destined to be transformed into wine becomes preserves insteadāor we simply eat it off the vine, juice running down our arms. One of the newest fruit preserves recipes in my repertoire is also from Sallie Ann; in her cookbook Cooking the Gullah Way: Morning, Noon, and Night, she calls them Willing Watermelon Rind Preserves. She writes about her memories of growing up in her grandparentsā watermelon field and eating the melons until she couldnāt move. āWe would burst the melon open right in the field because we were not allowed to bring a knife outside,ā she recalls in the book.
Sallie Annās preservesāmade simply with watermelon rind, some sugar and salt, lemon, and a dash of gingerāwould go beautifully over the roasted Leg of Lamb from food historian Jessica B. Harris, Ph.D., who included the recipe in her memoir My Soul Looks Back. Itās a beautiful but unfussy centerpiece for any celebratory meal, slowly roasted in the oven after being rubbed with a fragrant paste of garlic, lavender, and other herbs. āItās my salute to memories of the past and friends of the present, and I try each year to include someone new as a look toward the future,ā Dr. Harris writes.
Iād serve the lamb alongside Edna Lewisā Lentil and Scallion Salad from her classic cookbook, The Taste of Country Cooking. In the book, Edna suggests serving the lentils alongside roasted pheasantābut the lamb works just as well with this simple salad, which gets a savory boost of flavor from a smoked pork stock that infuses the lentils. When they cool, the lentils are tossed with sliced scallions and a delicious, mustardy vinaigrette.
For that peach wine in the sangria, Iād source the peaches from Dori Sanders, an iconic culinary griot and peach farmer based in Filbert, South Carolina. Dori also has a fabulous recipe for Shad Roe SautĆ©ed With Onions and Garlicāfrom her cookbook Dori Sandersā Country Cookingāwhich I would prepare for a second course, served over creamy Carolina Gold rice middlins fixed the way I imagine the late culinary anthropologist Vertamae Smart-Grosvenor mightāve cooked them.
Finally, for dessert, we would enjoy the Darden Sistersā recipe for Honey Custard, from their book Spoonbread & Strawberry Wine. Norma Jean Darden and her sister, Carole, who run Harlemās Miss Mamieās Spoonbread Too, first published the book in 1978, honoring their Southern heritage through family reminiscences and recipes passed down through the generations. Their custardāmade with eggs, milk, honey, some lemon extract, and a bit of orange zestāis a simple but elegant finish for my menu.
Of course, because this meal is all about celebrating the land and the stewards of Black culinary history, I would source all the ingredients from right here in eastern North Carolinaāfrom the yards of seasoned backyard gardeners in my neighborhood, from our family homestead, and from the fields of the farmers I feel so honored to work with. All grown in harmony, and with love.
