Jessica B. Harris’ new cookbook is both intensely personal and broadly encompassing. Her thesis (appropriate for a lifelong teacher) is that the cuisine of America has been formed from the weaving together of three major influences: Natives, Europeans, and African Americans.
At an event last month held at the Martin Luther King Jr. Memorial Library, she and Paula Johnson (the Smithsonian’s curator of food history) engaged in a fascinating conversation about her development process: how she decided on the structure, content, and design to create a unique blend of scholarship, personal vignettes, and appealing recipes.
Although I would suggest that Asians should be included in that construct, she makes a case that the golden number is three. She applied a lesson learned from “Schoolhouse Rock” – “Three Is a Magic Number” – and proceeded to structure this book as an appreciation of the strengths contributed by each of those sources. But more than that: how each had changed and been (arguably) improved by the influence of the other two.
Each chapter presents, through personalities and ingredients, aspects of American gastronomic culture, not necessarily as they were when first conceived, but warped and changed by the “braid.” By showcasing and including recipes from a series of food-oriented contributors who personify each braid segment, she makes a virtue of necessity. During the conversation at the library she admitted, “I hate recipes – I’m an intuitive cook!”
Case in point: the Strawberry Shortcake recipe contributed by Renee C. Hunter, a fully-enrolled member of the Shinnecock tribe of Long Island. It’s traditionally served at the June Meeting of the Shinnecock Presbyterian Church (that’s two strands of the braid right there), a celebration of “springtime, planting time, and remembrance of the departed.” The strawberries are the only component of this recipe (except for salt) which would have existed in North America before the European colonization.
Although the recipe contributors range from home cooks to professional chefs, all the dishes have the feel of traditional home cooking. The design of the book reinforces this feeling. This food has been honed by generations, by passing the recipes down through families. Even the dishes contributed by Sean Sherman, the “Sioux Chef,” are not in the least “cheffy.”
I tried the recipe for Coleslaw with Butter Vinaigrette, as I had never heard of using butter instead of oil in a vinaigrette. It was contributed by the historian Peter Rose in honor of her Dutch heritage.
The butter resulted in a slightly greasy mouth-feel that interfered a little with the enjoyment of the dish. We did, however, find that it improved on the second day, as the cabbage absorbed the butter and the dish was more balanced. It worked well as an addition to a cold pork sandwich.
The recipes are well-written. There are, however, five cases of the Dread Overleaf Fallacy. All could have been avoided with more consideration in the book’s layout. This is one of my pet peeves about cookbook design. How can a cook be expected to flip page(s) in the middle of preparing a dish to follow the recipe? Especially if using a book holder as you see in the picture above.
Overall, however, this book is a fine addition to our understanding of American culinary traditions.
Braided Heritage: Recipes and Stories on the Origin of American Cuisine, Jessica B. Harris, Clarkson Potter Publishers, New York, 2025.