THE ARCHAEOREADER
WHERE A LOVE OF ARCHAEOLOGY AND READING MEET
WHERE A LOVE OF ARCHAEOLOGY AND READING MEET
"So much was lost--names, faces, ages, ethnic identities--that African Americans must do what no other ethnic group writ large must do: take a completely shattered vessel and piece it together, knowing that some pieces will never be recovered...I liken it to the Japanese art of kintsugi...The scars of the object are not concealed, but highlighted and embraced, thus giving them their own dignity and power. The brokenness and its subsequent repair are a recognized part of the story of the journey of the vessel, not to be obscured...transformation are seen as important as honoring the original structure and its traditional meaning and beauty. The food is in many cases all we have, all we can go to in order to feel our way into our past."--Michael W. Twitty Is there any other expression more true of identity, values, and culture than food? Do you identify yourself as vegetarian, vegan, omnivorous? Do you practice dietary rules such as kasrut (kosher) or halal? Maybe you've tried a popular diet or two (Atkins, South Beach, Paleo?). Perhaps fasting is an important part of your religious beliefs. Perhaps you have to watch what you eat because of allergies or struggle with a disorder. Maybe your New Years' resolutions include reducing your consumption of sugar, meat, or alcohol? What we eat consumes us, metaphorically and literally. Its Orsinio's famous opening line in Shakespeare's Twelfth Night: "If music be the food of love, play on." Its Gertrude Stein's literary cubist poems using food as an allegory for how men and women interact with each other. It's the subject of endless conversations: books, tv, film, blogs, and health campaigns (milk for healthy teeth and bones). Are you like me and constantly watch food documentaries and cooking shows?! We all know the act of preparing a meal however meager or lazy, or even "pull-out all the stops" feasts can be a reaffirmation of who we are or want to be. And, as its the holiday season, it's as much a social act as it is nourishing. My own family is obsessed with food. It's not uncommon to text pictures of juicing pomegranates from the garden (mom), meal prepped lunches in a given week (me), or what we had at a restaurant lately (typically a brother) so that we still feel connected. My Dad's sole hobby is some serious grilling and our phone conversations can last an hour on the preparation of various meat. Enter, Michael Twitty. While cruising seriouseats's website I came across this book review for The Cooking Gene and knew I had to pick it up. As soon as I reached the above quote in Twitty's 1st chapter, "No More Whistling Walk for Me", I immediately began to feel this was an important book for archaeologists. To describe what a healing process could look like for generationally-affected descendants of slavery with an artistry like ceramic repair is a transformative perspective in its own right. Given how much material culture studies in archaeology focus on ceramics, this is a natural hook for someone like me. Something less tangible in the archaeological record is also being presented here that I want to highlight and that's culinary heritage. My fellow colleagues might be thinking: uh, hello, food is a MAJOR form of archaeological inquiry. What about Zooarchaeology? Pollen analysis? Protein or organic residue analysis? Absolutely. These research avenues are critical to understanding diet and nutrition in the past. Less tangible is a sense of connection for how people in the past interacted with their food let alone how this connection carries on in living descendant communities. I can link to a lot of super cool research that's been done on these topics alone and end this post with, see...look how awesome archaeology is at showing us past foodways! But even as Twitty explores DNA testing (this is one aspect of the "gene" to his aptly titled memoir) as an avenue to uncover his ancestral roots his message isn't that its all down to science, nor is mine. More importantly is his humanistic approach. Twitty brings us on his "Southern Discomfort tour" where he combines a very personal journey to understanding his identity as a chef and a black, Jewish, gay man with the culinary history of how Southern food came to be. We learn the significance of corn, yams, rice or wheat go beyond mere subsistence strategies to African culture; there are creation stories here. There is also the disturbing connection between food supply and enslavement. For example, we learn how poor rations of corn meal were adapted into the well-known Southern soul food staples like hominy, ashcake, and hoecake while inedible parts of corn such as stalks were used to keep fires going, and husks were repurposed for cooking utensils. This fare was nothing like its comforting interpretation today. When food supply for a chattal workforce was thought no different from feeding any other work animal and in many cases the scant rations and kinds of provisions provided were a means to dehuminize, these foods represent survival and resistance. Twitty shares a visceral memory of his grandmother eating cornbread with buttermilk. Remembering with distaste he once asked her why she did this and her explanation, "At least I didn't have to eat it in a trough." Twitty reminds us (Southern) cooking carries its own residual impact. And is further damaging when appropriated. Make no mistake, Twitty clearly states this book is not about taking cultural ownership of Southern cuisine away from one group and giving it (back) to another but rather "food being a tool for repair within the walls of black identities." Historic Preservation and Food heritageThis gets at the heart of what I took away from Twitty's book, the cultural significance of foods. A lot of what Twitty highlights in this book kept me thinking about how archaeologists assess the significance of agricultural and horticultural landscapes, farmsteads, homesteads, and other domestic site types. Most of us are quick to connect these properties to the larger context they manifested out of and this may be supported by artifact, faunal, and other analyses to sufficiently argue for (or against) their significance. But what about the cultural significance of the crops being cultivated themselves? When I read Twitty put himself to work in a cotton field--experiencing both a physical and spiritual connection to his ancestors--as he listens to folk music recordings of chain gangs and slave work songs, I was struck by parallels in the way hunting, fishing, and plant gathering sites are important to the cultural continuity of Native American communities. Rice Bay in Michigan is the first Traditional Cultural Property (TCP) to be listed on the National Register of Historic Places for being a place significant for its (American Indian) food tradition and not just as a sacred site. Its listing only occurred five years ago (2015). Why has it taken this long to have a historic property listed for its cultural significance to foodways? And why isn't the eligibility of sites being considered more for their role in food traditions?* My sense is that:
While numerous studies exist on food culture and foodways, how are archaeologists, anthropologists, and other historic preservation professionals applying this information to protect, preserve, and enhance food traditions? There are a lot of great resources that bring food and public archaeology together. Some of my favorite ways to teach archaeology principles to a young audience are with cookie excavations and peanut butter and jelly stratigraphy. But I will admit I've only recently started thinking about food in management recommendations or in public outreach. "Natural resources are cultural resources" is something archaeologists pick up early on in the cultural resource management industry but if I'm honest, I haven't truly felt the impact of this in my work experience until I began working for a tribal government with a first foods mission. The Cooking Gene has heightened my awareness. I can't recommend this book enough. "It is not enough to know the past of people you interpret. You must know your own past. I'm in clothes that call to mind what the enslaved made for themselves and their slaveholders. I am in plantation kitchens that are haunted to the rafters in places that few African Americans dare to tread. I watch ghosts walk by, and among them is me. I am seeing myself at seven, at thirteen, twenty-one, thirty, now. I am stirring the pot wondering, How exactly did I get here?" --Michael Twitty Learn MoreCheck out this video of Michael Twitty discussing the food of the enslaved on Townsends YouTube channel: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GwkRWIwZ43A&t=4s Preservation Maryland features recipes in their culinary heritage spotlights on their blog. Farrell Monaco's Edible Archaeology blog Tavola Mediterranea Share the knowledge! Comment below if you know about historic preservation efforts supporting culinary traditions! *Footnote for the peanut gallery: I am well aware not all properties eligible for listing on the National Register need or should be listed. I'm not arguing to flood the National Register with a bunch of corn fields. My discussion here is to encourage us to give a bit more consideration to food traditions than just something ancillary to the assessment of certain site types.
I have hyper-linked to sources where appropriate/available. All links and sources were electronically accessed between December 26-30, 2019. **If you like the information in this post please consider donating to the non-profits mentioned**
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