Food That Feeds The Soul

My parents are southern born and bred – my father from Arkansas and my mother from North Carolina. My aunt is highly respected in our community, not just because of her faith, but because of her pound cakes, sweet potato pies and hot water cornbread. In my church, I'm surrounded by black women from Texas and Louisiana who can cook like nobody's business. And lest you think that kitchen skills are gender specific, my pastor's collard greens are second to none.

And then ... there's me. I've successfully made everything from Indian to Thai to Mexican cuisine, but Southern comfort food eludes me every time. I burn fried chicken. And let's not discuss my adventures with greens (I'd forgotten that when water evaporates, food becomes more salty, not less).

In the interest of Black History Month, I resolved to put an end to my soulless soul food. So I called my mother and aunt, the founts of all knowledge, to figure out where soul food came from and how to prepare it properly.

"Soul food" didn't get its name until the 1960s. In his book, Hog and Hominy: Soul Food from Africa to America, author Frederick Douglass Opie explains that the tradition of southern comfort food began when Europeans started exploring Africa. Africans were introduced to foods like turnips and cabbage. When they were brought to America as slaves, Africans added garlic, thyme, onions and bay leaves to their repertoire.

Meats were usually parts that were normally thrown away, but these were used to create unique dishes. Chitterlings and hog maw, the intestines and stomach of pigs, are an example of this. Hog's head cheese, a mixture of pork meat and cartilage compressed into a square shape and chilled, is another. Some slaves worked in the kitchens and were trained in the preparation of favorite foods – items such as macaroni and cheese, baked ham, potato salad, pork chops and red velvet cake. Slaves passed these recipes down to their children, and they still survive today.

Lots of these foods traditionally contain a lot of salt, fat and/or sugar. In recent years, diabetes, high blood pressure and high cholesterol have become a serious problem in the black community. According to the Center for Disease Control and Prevention, 13 percent of African Americans over the age of 20 are living with diabetes as of January 2011. As of 2008, 35 percent of men and 44 percent of women were being treated for high blood pressure. And in that same year, 22 percent of men and 24 percent of women tested positive for high cholesterol. As a result, cooks have cut back on these ingredients in an effort to preserve their health.

To be perfectly honest, every cuisine has its own version of soul food. And all of them agree on its meaning. "It's food that makes you feel good," said my mother. "When you eat it, it reminds you of home. It feeds your soul."

My aunt Annie Mae agreed. "My gift is cooking. It's my way of showing I care. "

Both women moved out to California in the 1970s and met many other women who had done the same. "When I cook, I'm not just feeding my soul, but I'm helping others remember where they come from," my aunt added.

I decided to make red beans and rice, candied yams, chicken and dumplings, and banana pudding. In my mother's version of chicken and dumplings, the dumplings were flat, which cooked faster than round ones. Red beans and rice were easy to make, since I'd made both dishes separately in the past. Candied yams? I'd just made a quick and dirty version with my second period English class as a reward for good behavior. And a banana pudding shouldn't be too hard, even though I'd never made it completely from scratch. The chicken and dumplings should be just as simple. Or so I hoped. I put my mother on speed dial, just in case.

As it turned out, I shouldn't have worried. The chicken and dumplings were perfectly cooked and seasoned – and didn't need to be fried, which eliminated that problem. The candied yams were delicious, so much so that our roommate sneaked in and ate the last of them when we weren't looking. I still haven't perfected the red beans and rice, but when we ate it with everything else, it didn't really matter. The banana pudding turned a lovely caramel color and tasted as good as it looked. The best part is, it'll taste even better the next day.

I'm excited that I can honor my heritage with food from my own culture. And my aunt was right; I do feel a connection to my past when I cook soul food. Later, I'll be able to pass these recipes on to my nieces and nephews. But until then, I'm glad I can make chicken and dumplings whenever I want.

Chicken and Dumplings

• 1 whole chicken
• 1/4 cup seasoned salt
• 2 tablespoons pepper
• 2 cloves garlic 
• 3 tablespoons celery seeds
• 1/2 onion 
• 1 cup flour

Place the chicken in a large pot. Fill the pot with water. Add seasonings, except flour. Cook until chicken falls off the bone, which is roughly one and a half hours.

After an hour, remove one cup of broth from chicken. Place it in the refrigerator to cool for 30 minutes. Once cool, whisk it with flour until it forms a soft dough. Roll the dough out and carefully cut it into one-inch squares. Remove the chicken from the pot and set aside.

Place the squares, one by one in the pot, pushing them down into the broth and gently shaking it to make sure squares don't stick together. Cook till dumplings float, roughly 15 minutes. Serve with chicken.