African-American influence on food is more than just taste

FRIED CHICKEN, collard greens, barbecued ribs, macaroni and cheese . . . these are just a few of the down-home dishes associated with the African-American table. While Philadelphia isn't as famous for its soul-food restaurant scene as cities like Memphis, Tenn., Detroit and Kansas City, the roots of this vibrant culinary heritage run deep in a city that is home to some 44 percent African-American residents. A tradition that continues to thrive on Sunday supper tables all around Philadelphia, soul food is also served at stylish restaurants and small take-out joints around town.

The term "soul food" entered common parlance in the 1960s, when the word soul became closely connected with the African-American experience, from music to fashion to food. But the roots of southern cooking are as deep as the interconnected relationships among African-Americans and the European settlers who relocated to the American South. The original fusion cuisine, southern food covers a broad range of cooking styles, including African, Caribbean, Cajun and Creole.

In her book High on the Hog: A Culinary Journey From Africa to America (Bloomsbury, $26), Jessica B. Harris takes the reader on that journey, tracking the profound effect that enslaved Africans had on American gastronomy.

From their knowledge of rice cultivation to their enterprising adaptation of ingredients and natural cultural fluidity, enslaved Africans from places like Senegal and the Gulf of Benin shaped the cuisine in the American South and elsewhere. Dishes like Hoppin' John, a southern New Year's Day tradition made with black-eyed peas and rice, is one example of that indelible cultural crossover, she said.

"West African okra stews and sauces gombos morphed into some of the gumbos of southern Louisiana, Charleston, S.C., and the Philadelphia dish known as pepper pot, which was also referred to as Philadelphia Gumbo," said Harris, in town recently to prepare recipes from her book at Geechee Girl Café, in Mount Airy, with chef/owner Valerie Erwin.

In her book, Harris hopes to lay at least one misconception to rest - "that African-American food is unhealthy and without history."

"African-Americans have long been an integral and crucial part of the culinary history of this country," she said. "It's time we all acknowledged that at the table."