It has been a bit over three years ago that I received an email from a stranger named Joe Haynes. Joe told me he was writing a book about barbecue in Virginia. He had stumbled upon some of my writings about influences and interactions between early Virginia settlers and the native Powhatan people of Eastern Virginia. He was looking for some clarifications and information. We clearly shared interests in the foodways history of The Old Dominion. Soon I was reading manuscript chapters and the more I learned about Joe and his project, the more interested I became.
I confess that I was at first wary of becoming too involved. Barbecue can be a passion, and it was clear to me that he was obsessed. He is, I soon learned, a competitive pit master. A big part of his passion was, as one might expect, praising his own home state’s barbecue traditions and asserting that Virginia rightly holds pride of place among those claiming to be the historical and cultural source of Southern USA barbecue in all its glorious (and contentious) diversity. That way lies danger, I thought. Will this be another boastful ‟my barbecue is better than yours” book? Will it turn out to be mainly a cookbook or yet another treatise on a pitmaster’s mysterious techniques and secret ingredients?
In a little over a year, Joe announced that his first book was finished and at the publisher. Soon I had a completed copy in my hand, and I was beyond amazed at his masterful accomplishment. Joe Haynes had demonstrated clearly that his interest far exceeds the scope of most published writing about barbecue in that his research was thorough, scholarly, thoughtful, and wonderfully insightful. I quickly recommended Joe’s Virginia Barbecue: A History to my longtime foodways-scholarship colleagues.
As soon as his book hit the shelves, Joe told me he was already working on his next magnum opus. He was going to tackle Brunswick Stew. OMG! And tackle it he has, along with Barbecue stew, barbecue hash, fish frys, Kentucky burgoo, and hoecakes. These signature southern dishes belong to the barbecue tradition, which, together with his previous book, Joe thoroughly reveals, explicates, and glorifies. He also includes some recipes recipes. Some are his own or his family’s, but there are a number from important historic and contemporary stewmasters. That said, these recipes are just a touch of extra frosting on the cake. This is not specifically a recipe book, nor is it a ‟how-to,” but you could surely do well if you wanted to use information here to try your hand at a Brunswick Stew party.
Joe’s work is significant scholarship. This is American culinary history and ethnology at its finest, researched with passion and recited with love, humor, and intelligence. Joe understands and appreciates the historical depth and cultural significance of these traditions. He clearly sees and helps tease out the contributions of ancient English foodways and their adaptations to and adoptions of those of Native America, as well as the role of enslaved Africans and African Americans who often were the true masters of the barbecue and stewpot. He follows traditions as they spread and evolved through the southward and westward expansion of the nation.
I cannot imagine reading this book without experiencing a craving in the belly and a mouth-watering wish to re-live some of this rich history. So, my friends, read on and learn and be prepared to hunger for a day we can all sit together at a long plank table under green trees near a cool spring and drink cider and eat thick Brunswick Stew that has been stirred in an iron washpot for a day or two at an old-fashioned Virginia barbecue. When you’ve finished this volume run right out and get Virginia Barbecue: A History if you don’t already have it.
No comments:
Post a Comment