Darrin Nordahl didn’t grow up foraging for dinner in cove forests.
A native Californian, he’s making up for lost time with his new book, Eating Appalachia: Rediscovering Regional American Flavors, which digs deep into the weeds of what he calls “real American ingredients,” aka, those that grow wild. In his mission to consume the landscape in as literal a sense as possible, Nordahl cracks hickory nuts in Cairo, West Virginia, picks up pawpaws in Albany, Ohio, and beefs up on elk cuts in Prestonsburg, Kentucky. On his North Carolina adventures, he puckers up to sumac in Cherokee and splits persimmon seeds in Colfax. Along the way, Nordahl shares the stories of the people and festivals behind these special foods alongside a hearty serving of history, photos, and recipes.
Q&A with Darrin Nordahl
What got you interested in the food culture of Appalachia?
Actually, it wasn’t a ‘what’ but a ‘who.’ A few years ago when I was living in eastern Iowa, I was promoting a book I had written about growing fruits and vegetables and herbs in public spaces, instead of just ornamental plants like flowers and grasses. A gentleman came up to me and said, ‘You know, this is an interesting idea, but many of these fruits and vegetables require a lot of human effort. Ever think about growing native fruits in public spaces instead?’
At the time, I couldn’t name a single native fruit. So he went to the Appalachian foothills and returned a few for me: hickory nuts, pawpaw, and American persimmon. After a single bite from each of these foods, I was hooked. I hadn’t tasted anything like these foods before. And then I wondered, ‘Why haven’t I?’ I couldn’t believe such tasty foods grew wild—and were free for the picking—in Appalachia. From that point on, I was determined to introduce these incredibly delicious foods to other foodies like me.
What surprised you most?
I’ve read a few historical accounts of Appalachian foodways, and the underlying theme is often the same: destitute folk making do with whatever they could gather or grow in the mountains. But this common perception casts an ill flavor to Appalachian food, and nothing could be further from the truth. The native ingredients of Appalachia aren’t make-do foods, but foods of haute cuisine. As the population of foodies grows in America, they will seek new and exciting flavors. And I think people will soon discover that Appalachia has the best stocked larder.
What are the biggest threats to indigenous foods?
Obscurity. I was shocked how many Appalachian citizens hadn’t heard of pawpaw. Or butternuts. Or sassafras or even ramps! These are some of the finest flavors of the United States, and yet few Americans have any familiarity with them. If they do vanish from our minds, they might vanish from our landscapes as well.
What makes our food festivals special?
Food festivals are really just one great big party where you eat and drink and learn and ponder. You can only learn so much about a particular food by reading about it and trying to cook with it by yourself. More educational—and certainly more joyful—is to learn from others: what flavors they taste and how they use it in various dishes. And that also sparks creativity. When I attended a pawpaw festival, I marveled at all the inventive and incredibly tasty things made with the fruit, like salsas and chutneys, simple syrups for cocktails, cream sauces for chicken and fish, and luxurious desserts like panna cotta.
What makes wild foods more delicious?
These foods germinate, hatch, and grow simply because of the natural order of things; not because Farmer Joe made it so. When you stumble across foods prepared exclusively by Mama Nature, you will find the flavors to be pure.
Sumac-ade Recipe
Sumac-ade is the sort of drink that’s sure to make you smile, knowing it is entirely possible to make a better tasting, much prettier, and far cheaper “lemonade” than anything you can buy at the store. The citrusy notes of sumac are a fantastic substitute for fresh lemon. If you are able to, choose staghorn sumac and harvest it at its ripest (typically late August).
Serves 8
- 6–8 large sumac flower heads
- 2 quarts cold water
- White sugar, honey, agave nectar, or other sweetener of choice, to taste
- 1 lime, sliced
Typically it’s wise to wash fresh produce well. But not sumac. Vigorous rinsing of fresh sumac berries washes away both color and flavor. For this reason, avoid picking sumac after a rain.
Take each panicle and separate the berries from the stems. Place the berries in cold water (never hot, as this brings out bitter flavors). Gently mash the berries with your hands, and let sit for about four hours (less or more, depending on the desired color and flavor).
Strain the liquid into a large pitcher. Make sure you use fine jelly cloth or several layers of cheesecloth to catch the numerous tiny hairs of the sumac berries. Sweeten to taste. Pour into an old-fashioned glass with ice, and garnish with a slice of lime.
—Recipe courtesy of Eating Appalachia, by Darrin Nordahl