A PBS docuseries exploring how to feed a growing population while protecting oceans, marine ecosystems and coastal communities will be featured as the Coastal Studies Institute’s Science on the Sound Lecture Series installment for this month, and in celebration of Earth Week.

The third episode of the series, “Hope in the Water,” titled “Changing the Menu,” will be shown at the historic Pioneer Theater in Manteo the evening of Monday, April 20. There is no charge to attend but registration is required at https://bit.ly/HopeInTheWater.

“Hope in the Water,” produced by Andrew Zimmern and David E. Kelley, “blends science, food, and storytelling to spotlight innovative solutions in what’s often called the ‘blue food’ system—food sourced from oceans, rivers, and aquaculture. Rather than focusing solely on the problems surrounding fisheries, the series highlights practical, real-world solutions, from regenerative aquaculture to rethinking the species we eat,” organizers said.

The event starts with a prescreening reception at 5:30 p.m. in the Pioneer Theater courtyard, featuring local seafood available for purchase from Basnight’s Lone Cedar Café food truck, beverages, and educational displays from community partners.

The film screening will begin at 6:30 p.m., followed by a cookbook giveaway and discussion with the following panelists:

• Dr. Sara Mirabilio, fisheries extension specialist with N.C. Sea Grant.
• Chef Mac Buben, owner of Sea Chef Dockside Kitchen.
• Evan Ferguson, food blogger and media coordinator at Cape Hatteras Secondary School.
• Jake Griffin, a local commercial fisherman.

The panel will discuss local efforts to diversify seafood consumption and offer perspectives on the future of seafood in North Carolina and beyond.

“This event is an opportunity to connect our community with the people and ideas shaping the future of seafood,” CSI Executive Director Reide Corbett said in a statement. “By bringing together scientists, fishers, chefs, and educators, we hope to inspire more sustainable choices that support both coastal livelihoods and healthy marine ecosystems.”

The Coastal Studies Institute, located in Wanchese on the East Carolina University Outer Banks Campus, has partnered with Fed by Blue, North Carolina Sea Grant, and the Outer Banks Visitors Bureau to host the viewing. Science on the Sound is CSI’s monthly, in-person lecture series brings perspectives from all over the state and highlights coastal topics in northeastern North Carolina.

This story is presented in celebration of Women’s History Month, the theme for which in 2026 is “Leading the Change: Women Shaping a Sustainable Future.”

Heather Rose flashes a knowing smile toward her sister, Becky, across a table at Blackbeard’s Grill, their family’s seafood restaurant in Beaufort. “Honey, we’ve got some gooood memories together.”

“Epic memories,” Becky replies.

Those unforgettable moments were often squeezed into late nights between the grueling days when Heather clocked 12-hour kitchen shifts, and Becky, stepping away from the restaurant and neighboring Rose Seafood Market, worked dawn to dusk, moving dirt, hauling rocks and setting shrubs for her own landscaping company.

Their grind never stood a chance against the tide.

“When darks come and the businesses closed, we go get in the truck, go to the boat ramp,” Heather says.

Pushing off for the banks to fish until the sun touched the horizon, the women were overjoyed to be under the stars, even that night when a mud-clogged motor stranded them, exhausted and ravenous, until their parents arrived like a rescue squad with cheese biscuits.

“We just sat there in the boat eating those biscuits. We could barely hold our eyes open,” Heather chuckles, Becky nodding in rhythm. “But we had a boatload of flounders, and we had spent all night talking to each other.”

The sisters’ bond is as deep as their roots on the Carolina coast. It’s a connection forged in the salt of their shared seafood heritage and tested by the daily demands of the family business.

Despite the relentless labor of running both Blackbeard’s and Rose Seafood Market, and the looming shadow of an uncertain commercial fishing industry, Heather and Becky are unwavering. They’ve made it their mission to keep their landmark corner of Beaufort thriving for the next generation.

A legacy without blueprints

Surrounded by black-and-white snapshots of the commercial fishers and boat builders who came before, the women reflect on the proud way of life handed down to them. Today, the sisters lead that legacy: Heather oversees the seafood market, while Becky serves as the chef and proprietor of Blackbeard’s Grill.

Their ties to the coast reach back to the 1700s, Becky says. Ancestors were boat captains in the Northeast before navigating south to Swan Quarter, where a bay bears the Rose name. Some relatives headed to Cape Lookout, establishing the early Rose Town community.

In 1910, their great-great-grandfather, George Rose, moved his family from the cape to Harkers Island. There, later generations established Rose Brothers Boat Works, which became famous for crafting fine wooden yachts and charter boats built entirely by eye without plans or blueprints.

It was in that boatyard that Heather and Becky’s parents, Rodney and Mary, first met.

Rose Seafood Market was born of necessity. Frustrated by low dockside prices, Rodney and Mary founded the business in 1986 to eliminate the middleman. What started as a backyard mom-and-pop grew into a Marshallberg fish house sourcing from 30 local commercial fishers. By 1993, the couple moved to their current Beaufort location, soon after adding a take-out window. Two years later, they opened Blackbeard’s Grill to highlight “Down East” heritage recipes.

Today, the sisters manage day-to-day operations, with their parents’ constant inspiration and presence. The women draw strength from recollections of their father networking with fishermen, setting the standard for relationship building his daughters rely on today.

Dad, who still fishes, pops in — though not often enough, Heather laments, missing her father — to deliver and help process the catch, as well as share insight with customers about the challenges facing commercial fishers.

Years of watching their mother diplomatically negotiate the sale of thousands of pounds of fish weekly to far-flung markets in Boston, New York and Philadelphia, then turning around to masterfully head shrimp, shuck scallops and pack fish, made anything seem possible.

“Growing up and seeing that, I never felt like a woman was out of place in this industry,” Becky says of the male-dominated seafood sector.

The market still sources catches docked by local commercial fishers, including Heather, and carries beloved Rose family recipes, like their Aunt Dora’s shrimp salad. Locals watch Blackbeard’s specials for regional favorites such as scallop fritters and hard crab stew. Offerings depend on what’s fresh next door.

The scale is staggering. “We’re probably going to feed about 60,000 people here (at Blackbeard’s), and just on five nights that we’re open each week, for the year,” Becky says. Between the restaurant and the market’s grab-and-go section, which Becky stocks with crab pies, lasagnas, shrimp salad and more, the sisters are in a state of constant motion.

“We love the connection,” Becky says. “When you go and catch something yourself, do all the work involved in doing that, and then you prepare it and cook it for somebody, and you hand it to them and they eat it…that’s a feeling that can’t be duplicated in any other way.”

‘Don’t fight it, accept it’

Heather remembers happy childhood days clamming and shrimping with her parents and packing seafood at their then-fledgling business. “I was young, full of energy, you know, and always willing and anxious to help.”

Becky, 11 years younger, was just a toddler at the time, trying to stack boxes in her tiny oilskins. As a youngster, she headed shrimp after school at Rose Seafood in Beaufort and told customers, “My daddy caught these.”

“I still have some older ladies that come here and say, ‘Were you that cute little blonde-headed girl that waited on me in the seafood market?’”

Despite those precious memories, both women envisioned paths away from the water. In college, Becky studied marketing, a talent she skillfully applies to the businesses’ engaging social media feeds. Heather worked for 10 years as an officer with the Morehead City Police Department. Throughout their own careers, both sisters kept a foot in the family seafood business.

“I think both of us felt that was our calling,” Becky reflects.

“There was a time when I was younger, I was always trying to run away from it,” Heather adds.

“Well, I think we both knew how hard it was,” Becky says, finishing her sister’s thought.

The pair’s management era began with the COVID-19 pandemic. When the virus’s spread shuttered dining rooms, the Roses, like many restaurateurs, turned to walking takeout orders to vehicles lined up in the parking lot. By then, the market had closed, but with the public’s limited access to grocers and other seafood outlets, the Roses realized that they needed to reopen the store to sustain the community and their own livelihoods.

Heather had already left police work to help her parents at the restaurant, but she was facing burnout even before the pandemic. That’s when Becky stepped in, leaving an unfulfilling job in the wholesale plant industry to help her family keep up.

“It was really hard on me at first, because I hadn’t really been dealing with seafood for a decade,” she remembers. “It was hard to build up to the strength and endurance that it takes to clean 500 pounds of spots a day, to filet 1,000 pounds of flounder, to head 1,000 pounds of shrimp.”

The sisters stop to compare scars. “You can look at our hands, and you know,” Becky says.

Heather smiles. “Me and Beck, we look at each other when we’re exhausted and we say, ‘Don’t fight it, accept it. This is your calling.’”

‘These are the really special times’

Demanding work and a powerful desire to make their parents proud fuel the sisters’ mission. They also genuinely like their jobs.

Becky, always a foodie, found that working in horticulture deepened her interest in herbs and cooking, setting her up as a chef who understands both local food culture and how to craft contemporary dishes like crispy crab Rangoon with sweet Thai chili sauce or half-shell oysters roasted with bacon jam, a dollop of goat cheese to finish.

“She literally elevates this kitchen to a different level than it’s ever been,” Heather says of her sister. “She has a lot of pride, and she’s, she’s a perfectionist. She wants it to be right and won’t accept it any other way.”

Heather loves nothing more than fishing, but her wide-ranging experience in and outside the business make her indispensable to both operations, Becky says. Heather’s seafood chowder is an enduring menu staple, and she formulated the various breading recipes used to fry different seafoods.

“The tenacity,” Becky says of Heather, “if she makes up her mind that we’re doing something or she’s doing something, she’s doing it…And she can wire things. She’s very mechanical, and I am totally not…So when we come together, we don’t fight or argue like sisters sometimes do. We really work well together.”

Who will take on the business years from now is a constant worry, especially as North Carolina commercial fishers lose docks to new waterfront development. They also face fierce competition from recreational fishing interests with the capital to fund lobbyists and marketing campaigns that, as the sisters see it, demonize fishing families as destroyers of the very resources they depend on.

“We don’t have family to leave it to,” Heather says. “And that makes me very sad,” Becky adds, “and it’s something I think about every night before I go to bed.”

That uncertainty pulls at them, but it hasn’t slowed their pace. Instead of pulling back, the duo doubles down with new ideas, like Heather’s upcoming seafood boils to go and adding beer and wine sales to the market’s offerings. Becky takes on public education, sharing the story of the state’s seafood heritage through speaking engagements and staging fundraising dinners aimed at preserving the commercial fishing way of life.

Both agree they’d like nothing better than to fire up the boat after work more often and head out for an all-nighter. Meantime, they try to live by the advice Becky often gives Heather.

“You’re going to look back on today, and you’re gonna say, ‘Those were good times,’ even if you’re having a bad day here … We got to make the most out of each day, because these are really special times right now for this business and for our family.” 

Core Sound Waterfowl Museum and Heritage Center volunteers are cooking away ahead of the Harkers Island museum’s annual Taste of Core Sound winter edition happening this weekend.

When doors open at 6 p.m. Friday, ticketholders can snack on oysters on the half shell, crab dip, fruit and cheese before the meal is served at 7 p.m. This year’s menu includes Hancock salad, stewed conchs, scallop fritters, crabmeat casserole, garlic shrimp and rice, stewed redheads and rutabaga, chicken and pastry, winter collards, sweet potatoes, squash casserole and light rolls.

Guest speaker, Beaufort native Geoffrey Adair, a retired District Attorney Craven County and historian, will take the podium around 8 p.m., while a dessert of homemade cakes is served.

“Adair, who was born and raised in Beaufort, vividly remembers the smell of Menhaden steamers moored at Beaufort’s docks, the cool air of the season’s first mullet shift and the simple pleasure of swimming across ‘the cut’ on a hot summer’s day,” organizers said.

There will be a live auction of Core Sound decoys at the close of the program.

Tickets are $100 per person for museum members and $125 for nonmembers. Ticket includes annual membership. Purchase tickets through the museum’s website.

From the starvation and struggle of the ill-fated Lost Colony to the house-snatching fury of the latest nor’easter, endurance has always been a primary occupation on North Carolina’s remote Outer Banks. Even today, with soaring bridges and ribbons of asphalt connecting the outside world, a blustery winter day can isolate a soul in relentless gray.

But for locals who call Hatteras Island home, one bite of a savory, golden brown fish cake reminds them why they choose to stay on these unsteady sands.

Sharon Peele Kennedy understood that devotion better than most. A culinary icon known through her cookbook, “What’s for Supper,” and her voice on local radio stations, she was the primary guardian of Outer Banks foodways.

For Kennedy, who passed in January 2024, a plate of fish cakes wasn’t just a meal; it was an essential starting point for stories about the traditional Hatteras way of life she cherished.

To taste a fish cake in the “Banker” style, the name locals use for the ancestral residents of these islands, is to take a bite of history. Born from the resourceful kitchens of coastal families, these aren’t the typical heavily seasoned fried patties. Just as their forebears did at least two centuries ago, cooks here hand-flake fresh, local fish and then gently fold it with mashed potatoes and not much else.

Kennedy’s own recipe was handed down through generations. Her father, Maxton Peele, was a commercial long-haul and pound-net fisherman who cooked “in the traditional island style” of barely seasoning seafood to preserve its delicate flavor, Kennedy wrote in “What’s for Supper.” Her mother, Juanita Peele, was an expert at adding “unexpected touches” to those dishes.

Kennedy started working at Hatteras-area seafood restaurants when she was just 12 and grew up to become a champion for North Carolina’s commercial fishing families.

“This is a very traditional food on these banks,” Kennedy told me while she shaped fish cakes for a 2023 fundraising dinner in Nags Head to benefit NC Catch, a nonprofit promoting North Carolina seafood. 

Usually, leftover fish was “repurposed by mixing it all together … potatoes, onions and fish,” Kennedy said. “A little salt, a little pepper and an egg. And then shape it. That’s it.”

Such simplicity was forged in an era when grocery stores were nonexistent on Hatteras and thrift was the essential lifeline for island families. The first paved road didn’t open until the 1950s, and a boat or ferry was the only access to the island until a bridge opened in 1963. As Kennedy often reminded her audiences, Bankers “used what they had … what grew in the garden.”

Fortunately, fish was plentiful and could be salt-preserved for the larder. Onions and white potatoes – long known as “Irish potatoes” along the North Carolina shore from Virginia to eastern Carteret County – were the other essentials. Both thrived in sandy coastal soil. The humble staples formed the heart of the Banker fish cake.

Those potatoes and onions hint at how fish cakes became a Hatteras Island tradition, though the local recipe’s exact origin and timeline remain a mystery. When English settlers first arrived at Roanoke Island, the British were not yet potato eaters. While Europeans were introduced to the vegetable in the mid-1500s, most did not widely accept it until the 1700s.

While some credit Scandinavian sailors with the invention of potato-based fiskekaker, others point to the coastal traditions of Ireland. There, boiling potatoes in seawater to serve alongside the daily catch was one kind of survival meal, a flavor profile strikingly similar to the fish cake.

Regardless of who first mashed the two together, the concept found a perfect home on the Outer Banks.

For decades, the threat of piracy and the memory of the Lost Colony kept many settlers away from those shores, but by the mid-1600s, potato and onion farming had taken root in the nearby Albemarle region. As piracy dissipated in the early 1700s and more settlers moved to the barrier islands, they brought “Irish potatoes” and onions with them.

All the ingredients were finally lined up for an Outer Banks fish cake. While Kennedy’s cookbook also offered variations made with rice or hush puppy batter, the basic recipe many Hatteras locals use has remained unchanged: a modest, resourceful marriage of the garden and the sea.

As Kennedy shaped fish cakes for that NC Catch dinner at Basnight’s Lone Cedar Café in Nags Head, her son Jeffery Kennedy stepped in to grab a full tray. He gently laid the plump fish cakes into a deep fryer behind his mother. The pair’s easy cadence made it clear that this was not the first time the family had cooked fish cakes together.

Sizzling in oil, the fish cakes sent up a mouthwatering aroma. As Jeffery lifted the golden-brown disks from the fryer, his mother advised that any leftover fish would do – drum, bluefish, speckled trout, mackerel, whatever was available – whether baked, broiled or boiled. Throughout the process, she repeated how easy fish cakes were to prepare, offering not a hint of how utterly delicious they would be.

“Show her Jeffery,” Kennedy told her son. He picked up one of the hot patties and split it open with his hands. Inside, flaked white fish mingled with mashed potatoes, sending up a delectable fragrance. Meaty and substantial, the cake somehow maintained a pillowy texture that contrasted beautifully with its crisp exterior. One bite and I wished I could stay on the Outer Banks forever.

Fish Cakes

4 cups of cooked fish

3 cups of mashed potatoes

1 small onion diced or 1/3 cup chopped green onions

2 eggs, beaten

Salt and pepper

Flake fish in a bowl with mashed potatoes, add onions and beaten eggs, season to taste. Shape into small patties. Fry in about ¼-inch (deep) medium hot oil, until nice and brown.

Source: “What’s for Supper” by Sharon Peele Kennedy

Note: Because cooks often rely on leftover fish for fish cakes, the patties are traditionally enjoyed for breakfast. Try them in place of English muffins, use fried eggs instead of poached on top and skip the bacon for a delicious “eggs Benedict.”

Second installment of a two-part series special to Coastal Review

My mullet-fishing experience began in Carteret County, over half a century ago, but over the subsequent years and many scientific expeditions to find fossils, we have continued to cross paths with our “jumpin’ mullet,” catching them in places as far-flung as Hawaii and seeing them in markets of Europe, Africa, and Madagascar.

We have long marveled that our local tradition for drying mullet roe, which goes back many generations in my wife Lida Pigott’s family, somehow has its roots on the Mediterranean Island of Sardinia, the source of “Cabras gold,” the prized bottarga di muggine of Italian cuisine.

On my first visit to this enchanted island, just off the coast of Italy and second only to Sicily in size in the Mediterranean, I presented a talk at an international meeting of paleontologists and archaeologists on the topic of “Early Man in Island Environments,” featuring my years of work studying prehistoric Madagascar. I was fully captivated by the mysterious Sardinian landscapes, with more than 7,000 ancient ruins from the Neolithic and Bronze Age, some as old as Stonehenge and the pyramids.

I told myself I had to get back to Sardinia one day with more time to absorb it. I knew Lida would love this place because it is so strange and at once familiar. That was 1988.

We finally got back there a few months ago, for a nice long stay, and one of our projects was to explore the very heartland of one of Italian cuisine’s most famous products, bottarga di muggine, our own beloved mullet roe.

The wonderful archaeological museums and sites on the island tell the story well. Big estuaries with hydrology and scale similar to our own Core Sound, known locally as stagno (ponds), have been exploited for mullet seasonally, just as here in coastal NC or Hawaii or hundreds of other places in all the warm oceans of the world.

Mullet have undoubtedly fed Sardinians steadily for 5,000 years or more, from the indigenous Nuragic culture, through successive colonization by the Phoenicians, Carthaginians, Romans, Spaniards, and medieval feudal lords.

In fact, one of the last vestiges of feudalism as an economic strategy anywhere in Europe was the mullet fishery of famous bottarga producers like the Stagno di Mar `e Pontis, near Cabras, Sardinia.

By the mid-1900s this ancient lucrative industry, still owned by what today might be described as an “oligarch,” was regulated through eight levels of bureaucracy, whereby so many folks with fancy titles and allegiance to the “owner” got such large cuts that sometimes not much was left for the fishermen who did the catching.

Long-standing issues flared up regarding the maintenance of the canals to the ocean that have regulated the water flow for centuries, even millennia. Poaching was rampant. The fishery was in a poor state.

Something had to be done, and some violence came with the transition, as fishermen’s consortiums, government officials, and local business interests tried to set things right in a variety of sometimes conflicting ways.

In an infamous 1978 crime incident, the feudal overlord, Don Efisio Carta, was kidnapped by banditi and never found, although a ransom was collected.

By the 1980s, the now outlawed feudal hierarchy had been replaced by a consortium of fishermen’s cooperatives, and to this day they run a thriving fishery based primarily on the mullet and bottarga but also with eel and tuna fisheries, shellfish farming, and other maritime industries to sustain the large work force through the off-season for the migratory mullet.

Over several weeks, Lida and I had been eating seafood, especially targeting bottarga dishes, all over Italy and Sardinia. We were especially excited to arrive in the absolute world capital of the jumpin’ mullet and the bottarga industry, Cabras, for a few days of culinary “mullet research.”

We visited the splendid local museums, but as mullet fishermen ourselves we were just as interested to see where the fishermen store their nets and dock their boats, what kinds of tackle they are using, and what they are generally about.

We were amazed to discover that the Cabras cooperative uses a single type of molded fiberglass skiff, a stout outboard motor of a single brand, and nets nearly all alike in tidy labeled bins and net bags.

As net hangers ourselves, we were impressed that their tackle and techniques looked almost exactly like ours, down to the corks and knots.

The folks at a local store selling bottarga and smoked mullet insisted that, with our interest in the subject, we really had to visit the museum dedicated to the history of the local fishing culture, just down the road a bit.

We walked there along a causeway through the vast wetlands to reach the cluster of buildings on a high place out in the marsh, beside a deep channel leading out into the stagno.

Part of the “fish tourism” project of the Cabras fishermen’s consortium, Mar’e Pontis Museum had a sweet friendly charm that reminded me of our own Core Sound Waterfowl Museum and Heritage Center on Harkers Island.

The site also hosts a great restaurant, featuring local seafood, and an ancient chapel where the fishermen have prayed for safe and productive fishing for almost a thousand years.

From Pinuccio Carrus, a mullet fisherman who also guides museum tours, we learned about the boats, fishing gear, and thousands of years of fishing and fishing culture on this spot.

Probably since the Neolithic, fishermen here used small agile boats made entirely of reeds from the marsh, and some still do.

Wooden rowboats from years past, shaped like large high-ended canoes, similar to the gondolas of Venice, are now mostly rotting in yards, with molded fiberglass being the material of choice for most commercial fishing in the stagno today.

The museum had all kinds of nets and traps, for mullet and eels primarily, including ones that looked like our pound nets and gill nets.

Today, the fishermen use monofilament gill nets almost identical to ours in North Carolina, although the spear-fishing from reed boats is still practiced, too, much as it has been since prehistoric times.

Drawings and photos of fishing activity during the heyday of the feudal fishery show pound nets and fish corrals full of mullet with fishermen standing in their midst, taking them out by hand.

Having done a bit of that myself, I couldn’t help wondering if they had to watch out for stingrays lurking on the bottom of the mass of hemmed-in fish the way we do!

Of all the mullet-based meals of the trip – and there were many all over Italy and Sardinia – one of the most memorable was at the Restaurante de Madre de Rosy Circu in the heart of Cabras, at a junction of several of its ancient labyrinthine streets.

It was the only time anywhere that we dined on an entirely mullet-based pizza. It had a thin crust, a tomato and parsley sauce, and a topping of smoked mullet, sprinkled liberally with ground mullet roe (bottarga), a kind of double-mullet treat!

Another favorite we had several times around the island was a type of thick, rectangular local pasta with tiny clams (vongole veraci) and loads of ground bottarga. One of the best dishes was purple artichokes smothered in thin amber slices of bottarga, a feast for both the eye and palate.

Local shops sold a wonderful pâté made from bottarga and just right for any imaginable cracker.

The mullet fishery of Sardinia, although today only a small fraction of the historical fishery, seems to be doing fairly well. The industry in value-added fish products from local mullet, eel, and tuna seems to be thriving.

One change is that whereas relatively cheap U.S. mullet roe used to be imported salted or frozen to Italian factories for conversion to preciously expensive bottarga (not quite as expensive as caviar, but in that league), fish industries from Carteret County, to Manatee County, Florida (Cortez area) have sprung up that convert local mullet roe to a quality bottarga that sells on the internet for prices similar to the celebrated Sardinian stuff.

Combined with beach tourism and the draw from internationally unique 3,000-year-old giant stone statues (I Giganti di Mont’e Prama), folks there on the Sinis Peninsula seem to make a pretty good living by the stagno.

The mullet still come in large numbers from the sea every year, swelling the estuaries and feeding the people, dolphins, and birdlife, then returning to deeper water to complete their life cycle. Just like back home here in Carteret County,  and virtually all the warm coastal waters of the globe.

Our mullet is a fish for the world, a true cosmopolitan. I’m glad to have made its acquaintance in so many wonderful places.

How many of you make New Year’s resolutions?

How many resolutions do you actually keep longer than the time it took to make them?

The urge to do better, to start a new year with good intentions, is deeply ingrained in the human consciousness.

Want to know the most common gardening resolution?

“That’s it! I’m done fighting the heat and the humidity. I’m done battling the weeds and the weather. I’ve had it with the critters! I am not going to have a garden this year!”

Yeah, yeah, yeah.

Like the rest of those wayward New Year’s resolutions — this year, I’m going to eat healthy. I’m going to the gym. The determination to not garden will also fall by the wayside like a bowling pin taken out by an expert split-shot from the league champ.

As soon as the dirt warms up and starts smelling right …

… petrichor.

That’s the official name for how dirt smells, especially after a rainfall.

Once the scent of petrichor hits your snoot, all your good intentions and resolutions will be blowin’ in the wind like a poof of dust.

Geosmin, a substance produced by soil bacteria called actinomycetes, along with other microbes, is what creates the scent. Being extremely sensitive to petrichor and able to detect it at very low concentrations is what allows us wild humans to find fresh water and fertile land.

The scent of petrichor also triggers the urge to get out there and play in the dirt. Despite our best intentions, it laughingly short circuits our brains and insists we dig, dig, dig!

Not only that, but the days are slowly getting longer, coaxing and enticing us to spend more time outside.

Our mailboxes are full of seed catalogs, with their drool-worthy descriptions and their state-fair-winning, museum-worthy photos of all the goodies you can grow.

New varieties! Heirloom crops! Bigger! Better! This is the year! You can do it!

Unfortunately, the contents of those catalogs and the actual state of your garden, not to mention the success of your bounty, resemble nothing so much as … the difference between the honeymoon and the marriage.

One’s wearing rose-colored blinders, all full of hope and excitement for new beginnings. The other can be a long slog of hard work, hopefully culminating in something worthwhile.

Gardening kind of fulfills your New Year’s resolutions to eat healthier and get more exercise. If you can get your garden to grow and produce, you can certainly eat healthier — tastier, too. And getting all that produce from A to Z requires a lot of effort. Preparing the ground, planting, hoeing, weeding, picking and toting, cleaning and preserving all require a tremendous amount of energy.

Cussing, too. It takes a lot of lung capacity to adequately berate the turtles hollowing out your cantaloupes. Or the deer mowing down your green beans. Or the rabbits mowing down everything. The squirrels digging up everything you plant almost before you get it planted. The crows noshing on your corn before it even has a chance to sprout. The voles, tunneling down the middle of your rows and eating seeds and small plants. The hornworms decimating your maters. Birds pecking all your strawberries.

None of that takes into account the weeds and insects. There’s a reason the saying “growing like a weed” still resonates. After all your painstaking seed selecting and diligent plant pampering, nothing grows as fast as a weed. One tiny shower of rain and voila, Jack’s beanstalk is racing toward the sky, leaving you puling ’maters and cukes withering in the dust.

And the insects! Planting is all about the honeymoon phase. Planning and implementing and patting yourself on the back ’cause “this is so easy!”

Just about the time you start thinking, “No problem, I got this. I don’t know why anyone thinks this is hard,”the new starts wearing off and the gnats show up. The no-see-ums, aka minuscule velociraptors with jagged needle teeth. Mosquitoes. Yellow flies. Things with no names, like some huge alien creature from Jumanji, all fangs and stingers.

Then, just to add a little more fun to the challenge, the humidity chimes in like a sauna on steroids. This happens usually about the same time the rain disappears like a mirage in the desert and you have to start dragging hoses around — and hopefully remembering to turn them off — before you drown what you were trying to give a drink to.

Along about now is about when the “I’m not doing this next year” part of the equation starts looking better and better. It keeps poking you with all the chutzpah of a pesky little brother in church, reminding you what you said like a toddler on repeat spouting a cuss word in front of your in-laws.

Since you broke your resolution — or maybe it broke you — might as well go ahead and plant a garden. You know you’re going to anyway.

Mid-January is just a tad early, but it’s almost time for potatoes, and cabbage, and onions — any of the cool-weather crops, or cole crops. You might even be still harvesting some of your fall garden.

Go ahead and thumb through those seed catalogs like a kid with the Sears Roebuck, circling everything you want. Go ahead and order or buy those seeds, like the kid who traded his family’s cow for the magic beans. Hopefully you will just grow a regular garden, minus the giant.

Whether you stick to your resolution or not, enjoy the smell of dirt. If you’re strong enough to resist the pull, kudos to you. Whether you garden, or simply go to the farmer’s market and enjoy the fruits of someone else’s labors, you can still delight in the taste of fresh produce. If you can or freeze produce, you’ll extend the time you can savor the veggies.

As you’re working out and doing your breathing exercises, keep repeating to yourself, “I am not going to garden next year!”

Maybe if you repeat it enough times, you’ll actually believe it.

Post has been updated.

WANCHESE — Genetic testing of purportedly wild-caught shrimp served earlier this month at dozens of Outer Banks restaurants found that 64% of the shrimp was actually imported.

On behalf of the Southern Shrimp Alliance, SeaD Consulting collected and analyzed shrimp samples from randomly selected seafood restaurants in Duck, Southern Shores, Kitty Hawk, Kill Devil Hills, Manteo, Rodanthe, Salvo, Avon, Buxton, Frisco, Nags Head and Hatteras, according to a Dec. 17 press release from SeaD.

Of the 44 restaurants tested, 43 had verbally claimed to serve local American wild-caught shrimp, but only 16 — 36% — were found to be serving local shrimp in the tested dishes. The remaining 28 restaurants had served imported farm-raised shrimp, but only one of them admitted it. All 44 of the eateries had used imagery to imply that they served local shrimp. 

“The findings raise concerns about seafood transparency in an iconic coastal region known for its local fishing heritage,” the release said.

Despite the Outer Banks’ poor showing, it was noted that Wilmington did even worse, with an “inauthenticity rate” of 77% in previous testing. 

SeaD (Seafood Development) Consulting, in partnership with Florida State University, holds the patent for the Rapid ID Genetic High-Accuracy Test, or RIGHTTest, that was used in the survey conducted Dec. 2-6. The Southern Shrimp Alliance, an advocacy trade group, has funded the genetic testing of shrimp throughout the region.

Shrimp, the most popular seafood in the U.S., was an $8 billion market in 2025, with Americans consuming 5 pounds per capita of shrimp a year. But it’s not local shrimpers who are raking in big profits.

According to the U.S. International Trade Commission, 93% of the shrimp consumed in the United States comes from overseas, with 1.7 billion pounds of shrimp products imported in 2024, valued at $6 billion. Meanwhile, commercial shrimp harvests in the Gulf of Mexico and the South Atlantic declined from $522 million in 2021 to $269 million in 2023; $25 million to $14 million, respectively, in North Carolina. 

The demand for shrimp is only increasing, along with the creativity in how to serve it.

“We don’t need to undersell our industry and our product,” David Williams, a commercial fishery scientist and co-founder of SeaD, told Coastal Review in a recent interview. A generation ago, shrimp cocktail was the extent of its use in most American cuisine; now there’s a dozen different shrimp dishes on menus, he said. “It should be a proud part of our industry”

As the Alliance detailed, imports, depending on the country, can be “dumped” at lower prices because they use cheap labor, and sometimes even forced, trafficked or child labor. Some countries use a lot of antibiotics, or grow shrimp in polluted ponds. A few countries impose tariffs ranging from 13% to 45% on U.S. wild-caught and farmed shrimp.

While most restaurant prices for shrimp dinners are on the higher end of the menu, they’re not reflecting the dock prices, which have remained low. But more recognition for the quality of wild shrimp as a food source would increase its value.

“The only real way of doing that is that people in restaurants appreciate wild caught shrimp,” Williams said. And diners who choose to eat wild seafood should be able to trust that they’re getting what they’re paying for, otherwise, it’s misrepresentation.

“You charge a premium for a product that’s not a premium,” he said.

North Carolina does not have a law that requires restaurants to disclose the origin of shrimp on menus. Certain retail seafood products fall under federal country-of-origin requirements, but they do not apply to restaurants. North Carolina U.S. Rep. David Rouzer, R-7th District, has recently met with the Alliance and others in the industry and is looking into the legislative remedies and other shrimp industry issues.

“Tackling mislabeling is crucial to ensure that consumers receive the shrimp they are sold,” Blake Price, deputy director of the Southern Shrimp Alliance said in the release. “This testing shows American fishermen are regularly losing sales of their own product to shrimp farmed in countries with safety, labor, and environmental abuses.”

Mark Vrablic, general manager of Willie R. Etheridge Seafood in Wanchese, said that he’s not directly aware of Outer Banks restaurants misrepresenting imported shrimp as local. Still, he has had people tell him that they were told the seafood they were served had come from Etheridge’s, when he knew it didn’t.

“I would love for it not to be this way, but I wouldn’t dare sell a farm-raised shrimp and call it domestic,” he told Coastal Review in an interview. People have a right to know what they’re eating, he added. “I’m not going to sell something marked one thing and it’s something else.”

Vrablic, 66, agrees that the biggest problem with imported shrimp is that the dock price shrimpers are paid is almost too low to make it worth the costs and work involved. 

Probably 25 countries send shrimp here, including Saudi Arabia, Turkey, Ecuador, Peru, Mexico and Venezuela, he said.

“When fuels went up real high two years back, (local shrimpers) were going to have to either raise prices or just get out of it, because they were going to go broke,” Vrablic said. Even with gas lower now, he said, the “homeboys” should still be getting prices 30% to 40% higher.

“But because of the millions of pounds of farm-raised that’s available daily, it’s just overwhelming,” he said. “The market is staying down because of the supply.”

Vrablic, who is a member of the Etheridge family, once one of the most powerful fishing clans on the Outer Banks, began fishing when he was 14 years old, and later joined the family restaurant business for a few years before taking over commercial management and sales.

Until about 20 years ago, shrimping was a short summer fishery in North Carolina, he said. But as the climate changed, the waters warmed to the shrimp’s liking. Now the season stretches from July Fourth until December or later.

“I don’t like imports, Vrablic said. “They’ve crushed us like cockroaches. They’ve taken our markets away, and our fishermen can’t get the fair share what they should be getting. When I fished, I made a lot of money. We didn’t have imports.”

But the fact is, he said, the increased demand for shrimp on the Outer Banks, and elsewhere, exceeds what local shrimpers can catch. And almost all farm-raised shrimp is from overseas.

“We produce shrimp in this country, but we do not produce enough,” Vrablic said, and referred to the 1.7 billion pounds that were imported last year. “Where would we find something like that?”

To his point, he explained, Etheridge Seafood doesn’t have the capacity or bargaining power to meet the volume of the demand.

“We keep a heavy inventory of shrimp, and it’s just the whole world dumps on us,” Vrablic said.

Bottom line, Vrablic says that something has to be done about the unfair competition from imported shrimp. Ideally, restaurants and fish markets should prioritize serving local catch, but when they can’t, they need to be honest about the origin of the shrimp they’re selling. And it would help if consumers remember that wild-caught shrimp also is a seasonal product.

“When restaurants say ’Mark, what will we do if we went three or four months without shrimp?’ I said, ‘If I got no shrimp … we could treat it like we do soft crabs or scallops or oysters when it comes in season.’ People come buy them just like they do watermelons. When it comes out of season, guess what? You come up short.

“Then they’ll just buy more fish from me,” he said, “because they can’t compete with me with fresh fish.”

The following eateries on the Outer Banks found to be serving authentic, American, wild-caught shrimp in the random sample of 44 restaurants:

1. 1587 Restaurant & Lounge, 405 Queen Elizabeth Ave, Manteo.
2. Barefoot Bernie’s Tropical Grill & Bar, 3730 N. Croatan Highway, Kitty Hawk.
3. Basnight’s Lone Cedar Café, 7623 S Virginia Dare Trail, Nags Head.
4. Coastal Cravings, 1209 Duck Road, Duck.
5. Goombays Grille & Raw Bar, 1608 N. Virginia Dare Trail, Kill Devil Hills.
6. Greentail’s Seafood Market and Kitchen, 3022 S. Croatan Highway Unit 34, Nags Head.
7. I Got Your Crabs Shellfish Market and Oyster Bar, 3809 N. Croatan Highway, Kitty Hawk.
8. Lucky 12 Tavern, 3308 S. Virginia Dare Trail, Nags Head.
9. O’Neal’s Sea Harvest, 618 Harbor Road, Wanchese.
10. Outer Banks Brewing Station, 600 S. Croatan Highway, Kill Devil Hills.
11. Red Sky Casual Dining & Cocktails,1197 Duck Road, Duck.
12. Roadside Bar & Grill, 1193 Duck Road, Duck,.
13. Sea Chef Dockside Kitchen, 8770 Oregon Inlet Road, Nags Head.
14. The Paper Canoe, 1564 Duck Road, Duck.
15. Village Table & Tavern, 1314 Duck Road, Duck.
16. Vicki B’s Restaurant & Market, 301 Budleigh St., Manteo.

Moores Creek National Battlefield in Pender County is commemorating Feb. 26-28 the 250th anniversary of the Battle of Moores Creek Bridge and is looking for food vendors to join the celebration.

The Battle at Moores Creek was the first decisive patriot victory in the American Revolution and led to North Carolina to be the first colony to authorize its delegates to the 2nd Continental Congress to vote for independence, according to America 250th NC, the state-organized commemoration of the signing of the Declaration of Independence.

“As part of this historic celebration, we are inviting local food trucks to be part of the festivities and serve between 5,000 and 7,500 visitors over the two days,” organizers said in the press release.

Organizers are looking for food trucks that meet the following criteria:

• Be within 25 miles of the battlefield in Pender County.
• Offer breakfast items such as coffee, donuts, pastries, and other morning fare.
• Offer menu items such as seafood, international flavors and creative alternatives.
• Follow federal, state, and local health codes, which the park will specify.
• Have a ServSafe Certification.
• Be able to commit to both days.
• Submit a menu with pricing upon submission.
• Have liability insurance.

“This is a unique opportunity to be part of a major milestone in American history while showcasing your culinary offerings to a diverse and enthusiastic crowd,” officials said.

Interested vendors should contact the battlefield office at 910-283-7213, no later than Jan. 10 to express interest and receive additional details.

Sinking your teeth into a buttery, old-fashioned sweet potato biscuit is a legendary experience quickly fading into North Carolina culinary obscurity despite an almost unbelievable pedigree.

Sweet potato biscuits were reportedly served at the opening of the First Continental Congress in 1774. One hundred and forty-eight years later, the great African American botanist George Washington Carver championed this Southern delight as a crucial way farmers could diversify their crop usage.

That significant history is now mostly memorialized in memory. East Carolina University alumni long past their college days join locals in pining for the version once served at the late Venter’s Grill in Greenville. Shuttered Sweet Potatoes Restaurant in Winston-Salem was celebrated for a recipe that today endures only in cofounder Stephanie Tyson’s “Well Shut My Mouth” cookbook.

With North Carolina foodways vanishing as quickly as residential sprawl eats up the state’s farmland, sweet potato biscuits are becoming rare finds on menus and in the repertoire of home cooks. But in Camden, it stands as a delicious reminder of why such a simple thing is worth saving.

Beyond nostalgia

On a foggy morning in the tiny, coastal community, dogs bound excitedly through endless farm fields. Ruritan Club signs announcing a Brunswick stew sale dominate political H-stakes stuck along the roadside.

Inside a crossroads restaurant marked by an age-tangled oak tree, the caramelly aroma of roasting sweet potatoes fills the kitchen as chef Katherine “Kat” Silverwood’s wooden rolling pin squeaks across a cold-hard block of pastel-orange dough.

“We found that sweet potato biscuits actually act better if you make the dough day before,” she says. “It’s best to let it chill for at least a few hours.”

Silverwood knows what she’s talking about. Her Taylor’s Oak Restaurant produces hundreds of sweet potato biscuits each year, especially around Christmastime when fastidious locals, like many North Carolinians, relish fried country ham on their sweet potato biscuits.

 “You feed a bunch of old farmers, you better be making something from scratch,” Silverwood said.

That kind of cooking is what the chef grew up on in Camden. Vegetables fresh from her parents’ garden and baking with Grandma launched her interest in cooking as a child.

She never encountered sweet potato biscuits until around age 9 or 10. Her sister was dating and ultimately married a farmer. His mother made sweet potato biscuits. Silverwood was smitten at first bite. Within a year or so, she was baking her own.

“It’s like that perfect balance of the sweet and the savory,” she said.

As much as Silverwood loved cooking, she didn’t envision it as a worthwhile career. Instead, she joined the military and worked in construction but always had a kitchen side gig. Along the way, she honed her sweet potato biscuit recipe, testing tips from fellow chefs, like folding the dough during rolling to achieve flaky layers.

Eventually, Silverwood accepted her calling, taking a full-time chef position and dreaming of one day opening a restaurant. Her position left time for a night job. She asked the grandfather of a childhood friend if he needed a hand at the family’s new venture, Taylor’s Oak Restaurant. The spot held a special place in Silverwood’s own heritage. Her maternal aunt married into the Taylor family. The couple helped raise Silverwood’s mother after she lost her parents.

“They were only open one day a week. So, I asked if they would like some help, maybe get open for breakfast in the mornings. And that’s how I started here,” she says. “I wrote the recipe for sweet potato biscuits.”

When Silverwood had the opportunity to purchase the business a few years after starting at Taylor’s in 2018, the chapters of her sweet potato story culminated.

“As soon as we decided we were going to open up for dinner, I was like, ‘We got to have mini sweet potato biscuits go on the tables … that’s our signature,’” Silverwood says.

The perfect bite

Throughout telling her story, Silverwood shares many pointers for preparing and eating sweet potato biscuits. Besides chilling the dough before rolling, the Taylor’s team pinches cold butter into flour by hand, just like Silverwood was taught as a kid. They roast whole, skin-on sweet potatoes. Boiling would introduce too much moisture. Before mashing, they drain all liquid from the vegetable. Bags of the puree are frozen so that biscuits can be made quickly.

Just enough sugar goes into the dough to enhance the sweet potato flavor. That’s different from recipes like the one Venters’ chefs used all those years ago in Greenville. Silverwood’s biscuits are flaky and savory; Venters’ were soft, sweet and pillowy with pronounced notes of warm spices like cinnamon. The recipe for Sweet Potatoes Restaurant’s version falls somewhere in between.

“Everyone has their own different ‘you got to do it this way, you got to do it that way,’” Silverwood says, declining to share the family recipe that inspired her way.

Carver’s formula, among the earliest, verifiable printed recipes, leans soft and savory. Although the biscuits served at the First Continental Congress have been attributed to Thomas Jefferson, no original recipe has been found. Any biscuit recipe Jefferson favored was likely developed in kitchens run by enslaved Africans. This is also true for the sweet and salty combination of fried country ham sandwiched between a sweet potato biscuit.

Silverwood prefers less salty city ham rather than country ham. A slice of New Jersey’s Taylor pork roll (no relation) is even better, she reveals. Sausage plus a little mustard is tasty, too, as was the sandwich she offered with pimento cheese and spicy fried chicken.

Still, most Taylor’s Oak Restaurant customers ask for country ham. It’s easy to understand why when Silverwood finally splits open a hot sweet potato biscuit and lays on sizzling country ham directly from the griddle.

The hot ham melds with the biscuit’s interior, creating an almost creamy texture and old-fashioned flavor that fills your mind with memories of home, family and holiday anticipation. Suddenly, you’re wrapped in thoughts of icy mornings, coffee boiling on an old stove and the simple life you wonder why anyone would leave behind.

“I’ve had a couple people almost bring me to tears because they said ‘That’s just how my grandma used to make it taste,” Silverwood says, “‘exactly like that.’”

With each humble bite, the sweet potato biscuit becomes more than a meal; it is a profound, lasting link between generations. It is the legacy of a waning recipe that fatefully defined one woman’s life and continues, every day in Camden, to feed the soul of an entire community.

Sweet Potato Biscuits

Take:

½ cupful mashed sweet potatoes

½ teaspoon salt

1 cupful flour

4 teaspoons baking powder

2 tablespoons butter or lard

Milk sufficient to make a soft dough.

Sift the flour, salt and baking powder together several times; add these to the potatoes, mixing in with a knife.

Now work the fat into the mixture lightly; add the milk; work quickly and lightly until a soft dough is formed; turn out on a floured board; pat and roll out lightly until about one-half inch thick; cut into biscuits; place on buttered or greased pans and bake 12 or 15 minutes in a quick oven.

Source: “How the Farmer Can Save His Sweet Potatoes and Ways of Preparing Them for the Table” by George Washington Carver (Tuskegee Institute Press 1937).

Serving Southerners true pound cake is a serious culinary dare.

This is not just dessert; it’s a traditional masterpiece. Get it wrong, and you’ll be met with the polite-but-deadly judgment: “Well now, isn’t that interesting.”

Here’s the secret, though: Switching in mock pound cake is what many Southerners do and without a lick of shame. Yes, the true version is the holy grail, tangled up in family history and strong opinions. But the substitute is a welcome compromise that could save you from anxiously staring down the oven, praying for success.

In fact, experts have weighed in: N.C. State Fair baking judges and blue-ribbon winners argue that mock pound cake is every bit as traditional, challenging and delicious as its “true” counterpart.

“It’s only a sin when someone tries to call it a true pound cake,” says longtime judge David Schoening.

How it all started

True pound cake’s pedigree certainly contributes to its exalted status. The first printed recipe, dating to 1747, immediately established the cake’s reputation as a demanding bake. It called for a pound of butter, a pound of flour, a pound of sugar and 12 eggs (six of the whites whipped separately).

The baker’s challenge was to beat the ingredients literally by hand, in a single direction, or with a wooden spoon for a full, excruciating hour before baking the cake in a “quick” oven — a temperature often judged simply by how long the cook could hold a hand inside.

Bakers initially depended on the air they painstakingly beat into pound cake batter to achieve rise — no doubt with fingers crossed while the dessert baked. Exactly when the term “mock” pound cake emerged down South is unclear, but a turning point came around 1881.

In her influential book, “What Miss Fisher Knows About Old Southern Cooking,” one of the first published African American chefs, Abby Fisher of South Carolina, offered pound cake recipes calling for “the best yeast powder.” This addition was surely a relief, finally giving bakers formal permission to use a backup leavener.

Around the same time, commercial baking powder became widely available. Pound cake was finally approachable, and it seemed clear what qualified as mock pound cake — or was it?

Exactly what is true mock pound cake?

The debate over the definition of mock pound cake continues to this day. Take Ivy Hilliard of Wilmington, for instance. She won the 2024 N.C. State Fair blue ribbon for true pound cake, yet she grew up on both versions, recipes she believes date back generations within her family.

The story of her pound cake lineage begins with her maternal grandmother, Maggie Massey, whose family settled in North Carolina in the 1740s. Massey baked the finest mock and true cakes (her recipe is the one that secured Hilliard’s 2024 win). Later, Ivy’s mother, Polly Hilliard, was known for her mock pound cake, especially a scrumptious chocolate adaptation.

Flavor variation is one of the licenses granted to mock pound cake bakers. While true pound cake is typically limited to one flavoring — caraway seeds in that first printed recipe, later rose water, vanilla or lemon — mock pound cake has virtually no limits. N.C. State Fair entries have included praline, coconut lemon and Hilliard’s own margarita pound cake made with tequila.

What qualifies as mock pound cake varies as much as the flavors. State fair guidelines specify that true pound cake contains only butter (or margarine, which traditionalists reject), sugar, eggs and flour. “Mock pound cake can include baking powder, baking soda and milk but cannot include boxed cake mix,” the rules state.

Interestingly, Hilliard, like her mother, uses vegetable oil and milk but skips the leavener entirely. Her mock pound cake relies on beating the eggs well for lift — a method that is hardly a guarantee or shortcut.

“It’s like a three-hour process,” Hilliard says of preparing her mother’s mock pound cake. First, all ingredients must be brought to room temperature, and “you’ve always got to sift the flour. You can’t skip it,” she insists. The cake, like the true version, bakes for more than an hour with no peeking allowed.

The payoff is worth the effort, Hilliard says: “When it was my birthday, I would always ask for the mock pound.”

Not as easy as you think

Despite the work involved with preparing mock pound cake, the category draws significantly more fair entries than the true pound cake class — 42 competitors versus 18 in 2025. State fair exhibit manager Debbie O’Brien confirms the conventional wisdom: “That’s the way usually everyone goes because it’s easier.”

Like Hilliard, the 2025 N.C. State Fair mock pound cake champion, Willie Pope of Raleigh, takes extra time, shunning leavener, because that’s how his mother made mock pound cake. He has evaluated recipes with and without leaveners but noticed slight difference in the final taste or texture. So, he continues to “just beat the stew out of the egg whites,” a method that finally earned him his first blue ribbon after about 15 years of entering the competition.

For Pope, it all comes down to nostalgia: “It goes back to what you grew up with,” he says. “This recipe that we always make is one that my mother used to make…And part of her joking was always that for us to get an inheritance, somebody had had to win the state fair contest.”

The final determination of which is better, true or mock pound cake, comes down to personal taste. Hilliard thinks mock versions are moist and velvety inside and out thanks to additions like milk, sour cream or even cream cheese. True pound cake, she says, serves an irresistible golden, crackly crust.

Pope and his family have always loved mock pound cake so much that he’s never bothered with a side-by-side comparison to see if their secret recipe stands up to the true version.

Ultimately, the discussion is less about ingredients and more about what’s in a cook’s heart. As Schoening says, “Mock pound cakes are a true Southern tradition because they’re all about love.”

Maggie Massey’s Mock Pound Cake

Crisco shortening

Flour

2 sticks of butter, at room temperature

3 cups sugar

½ cup Crisco oil

1 cup whole milk

6 eggs

3 cups sifted, all-purpose Red Band flour and ½ teaspoon salt

1 teaspoon lemon flavoring (see cook’s note)

Cook’s note: This is Ivy Hilliard grandmother’s original recipe. Hilliard’s mother’s chocolate version originally incorporated a full can of Hersey’s Chocolate Syrup. When the company stopped making the canned syrup, the family made their own syrup from scratch and added 14 ounces to this recipe at the end of the creaming process. To make the syrup, blend 1 cup of sugar, 1 cup of cocoa and 1½ cups water and a dash of vanilla extract in a saucepot. Bring the mixture to a boil and then let it simmer for about 15 minutes. “And you will have the best chocolate syrup you’ve ever eaten,” Hilliard says.

Cake procedure: Grease a Bundt plan well with Crisco shortening and then dust the pan with flour. Set aside.

Preheat the oven to 300 degrees.

Cream the butter. Add the sugar and cream well. Add the Crisco oil and cream well. Add the milk and cream well (if using chocolate syrup, add here and cream well). The mixture should be fluffy. Alternately add flour and eggs, beating well after each addition. Add lemon flavor and mix well.

Bake for 1½ hours. Do not open the oven door until the cake has been cooking at least 1 hour or the cake may fall. Test near center. If cake is done, tester will come out clean.

Source: Ivy Hilliard

True Pound Cake

Lard

Sifted flour

2 cups butter, at room temperature

3½ cups sugar

10 large eggs, at room temperature

4 cups sifted all-purpose flour

2 teaspoons pure vanilla extract

Cook’s note: This is Hilliard’s grandmother’s recipe, the one that helped Hilliard win the N.C. State Fair pound cake blue ribbon in 2024. Hilliard says, “This cake is too large for a standard Bundt pan. Do not fill the pan closer than 2 inches from the top. If you have excess batter due to a smaller cake pan use excess batter for an extra loaf cake.”

Cake procedure: Preheat oven to 350 degrees.

Grease a Bundt pan with lard and then dust the pan with sifted flour.

Cream butter and sugar until light and fluffy. Alternately add eggs and flour, beating on low speed after every addition to ensure ingredients are well blended. Add vanilla extract last.

Pour the batter in the prepared pan and bake for 1 hour and 20 minutes. Note: Bake times can vary due to ovens. Check at 1 hour and 15 minutes to monitor doneness. You will need a long cake tester to test doneness as this is a deep cake. If test comes out clean, cake is done. When you remove the cake from oven, let the cake sit for 10 minutes in the pan before you turn it out.

Source: Ivy Hilliard

Remember that set of canisters and accouterments your mom or grandma cherished? The one that looked like a gnome mushroom village exploded all over the kitchen?

People love — or hate — toadstools with a passion.

Toadstools are found pretty much worldwide, and they are important parts of any ecosystem. Mushrooms and toadstools are both fungal fruiting bodies, and there is technically no scientific difference between them. People tend to refer to safely edible varieties as mushrooms, while the ones that can send you on a trip to the hospital — or on a trip to meet your maker — as toadstools.

The distinction is purely in how the fungi are perceived.

How do you tell which is which? Best advice: Unless you are with an expert who knows for sure, or you have an imminently painful death wish, don’t try any wild ones — mushrooms or toadstools.

Most of us are somewhat familiar with toadstools. They pop up, seemingly overnight, here, there and everywhere. But why? Mostly because fungi don’t reproduce by seeds. They reproduce by spores.

Once a toadstool has reached maturity, it releases tiny — often microscopic — spores, and the wind carries them to a new spot. There, spores wait patiently, sometimes for years, until the right conditions occur for them to sprout. This is why we often see them after a rainy spell, or after a warming period.

Those spores, in turn, send out microscopically fine threads, root-like filaments, which then form clumps called mycelia.

Mycelia break down and decompose organic matter such as leaves, branches, logs or other natural substances in order to return nutrients to the soil. Instead of hating on those toadstools in your yard, think about how beneficial they are. Rather than being a blight, toadstools are actually an indicator of a thriving ecosystem.

Of course, there are often pets and kids to consider, and some fungi dissolve into slimy, stinky messes. Ever smelled a stinkhorn? Think rotting meat, Pepe Le Pew chasing his cat girlfriend, or raw sewage. Why, you ask?

Stinkhorns, while inarguably the stinkiest of stinky toadstools, attract flies by means of a foul-smelling slime. The flies then disperse the sticky, stinky, stinkhorn spores. Pretty clever, huh? If you’ve ever walked the trail at Fort Macon, you’ve likely come across these, whether you realized what it was or just figured some critter had crawled off into the scrub and died.

Related to earthstars and puffballs, stinkhorns usually start out as a white, egg-like toadstools before some of them morph into a salmon- or orange-colored Halloween decoration. Stinkhorns can be found in a range of sizes, shapes and colors, and they have the most interesting names.

Part of the scientifically called Phallaceae family — and yes, that’s exactly what some of them look like — this could be where people get the ideas for monsters and aliens. Devil’s fingers, or Clathrus archeri, look like black-tipped orange fingers erupting from the ground. Veiled lady, or Phallus indusiatus, looks like a ghostly bride. It’s no wonder toadstools get a bad rap.

Have you ever seen a fairy ring? People used to think if you stepped inside one, the fairies would take you. Or they’d make you dance until you dropped dead. Or they’d transport you to Faerie, and you’d never get back home.

Sadly, the real reason for fairy rings is much less interesting, although still magical in its own way. The rings form because of high concentrations of nitrogen, or from decaying tree roots or other organic material. Growth begins in the center, such as around a rotted tree stump, or even where a tree used to be, and spreads outward, giving rise to the familiar circle.

Toadstools are an important food source for a variety of critters. Snails, slugs, squirrels, deer, rodents, turtles, and insects. Some critters even develop a tolerance for poisons present in the toadstools, poisons that would kill humans.

Toadstools have been used for thousands of years medicinally, as dyes, as poisons. For instance, fly agaric, or Amanita muscaria, with its iconic red cap and white polka dots, one of the most easily recognizable toadstools worldwide, has been used for centuries to kill flies. Not sure of the exact process, but basically people would sprinkle fly agaric in milk. Living on a farm with its attendant livestock and ensuing manure, or in a town with less-than-desirable trash and sewage practices, one can see where fly agaric would be highly valued.

Mushrooms have been adding culinary joy — for those who like them — to meals for probably those same thousands of years. While some people don’t like the taste or texture, mushrooms have countless uses in addition to food. Medicines, tinctures, flavoring, even mycoremediation, a fancy word for removing or degrading contaminants from or in the environment.

Toadstool names are as intriguing as the actual toadstools: ink caps, fly agaric, Indian pipes. Same is true for mushrooms: morels, bolete, lion’s mane.

While some mushrooms, morels or lion’s mane or chicken of the woods can be foraged naturally, above all, use caution and know what you’re doing. Interesting side note: when the American chestnuts were dying out, morels, or Morchella esculenta, could be picked up by the wagonloads. Think buckboard, not RadioFlyer. Sensing the tree’s imminent demise, the morels would produce mushrooms in abundance to produce spores to ensure the species’ survival.

Different mushrooms grow best around different trees and can often be located by finding the right trees or habitats.

Look up, not down! Morels like moist woodlands and can often be found around decaying elm, ash sycamore, or even old apple trees. Lion’s mane, or Hericium erinaceus, grows on hardwoods, such as oak and maple. Chicken of the woods, or Laetiporus sulphureus, grows on hardwoods, both living and dead.

If you like to eat mushrooms, and prefer to use trusted sources other than stores — or death-defying guesstimating — shoutout to Jamie’s Mushroom Farm in Havelock.

Jamie grows amazing mushrooms, and it’s an infinitely interesting process. You can get them fresh or dehydrated, and they are scrumptious!

If you travel sandy coast lines anywhere in this country you will see piers. They are popular places to visit the beach without getting sandy, to enjoy the sea, and, of course, to go fishing.

Unfortunately, too many people who try to fish at our piers won’t really have any success and will be disappointed. Here are a couple of tips to help you find some good action at any of our piers.

For starters, we need to determine what is meant by a pier. I’m talking about a structure built on pilings that is above the surface of a body of water. Specifically, we will be directly referring to those that are on ocean beaches.

Along the North Carolina coast, we have them almost everywhere, from Avalon in the north at Kill Devil Hills, as far south as Sunset Beach.

Each of them will have local technical expertise that will separate the rookies from what we used to call “The Sharpies,” however there are things that we’re here to talk about to get us all started.

On all piers, there are fish to possibly be caught from the front, to the very end. As Maria from “The Sound of Music” always says, “Let’s start at the beginning. A very good place to start.”

When you first venture across the sand, there will be fish right in the surf zone. From there on, pan-sized fish that are very popular to pursue, both for their willingness to get involved and the pleasure they bring when we get them home, will be present. There’s a very simple way to get them, but as with all things to do with fishing, it’s the details that make the day.

Use with a light rod. Something that can handle a 15-pound test braided line and a 1-ounce pyramid sinker without flexing all the way down, but with a responsive tip. There will be a myriad of options for bait fishing rigs for sale in the shops and at the pier itself. If you are able, forgo those choices and make your own.

Start with a monofilament line that is no more than 30-pound test. Do not, repeat NOT, use anything with wire. Tie in two dropper loops (diagrams available wherever diagrams are sold), attach a small orange bead and a size 1/0 circle hook to one, then a pink bead and the same kind of hook to the other.  If you don’t want to tie your own, purchase the one that is the closest to this description. This is THE main difference between people catching, and those watching.

There are lots of options for bait, depending on your industriousness and abilities. The top would be sand fleas that you just dug from the surf yourself. There are those who will par boil them quickly and freeze. Next choice would be pieces of fresh shrimp. (You’ll notice I don’t mention frozen shrimp). Regardless, most savvy anglers also use a very small piece of Fishbites brand in the shrimp flavor, which is a scent infused natural product that adds appeal. It’s available everywhere. 

Bites will come as fast taps. With the circle hooks you will not miss as many strikes as you will otherwise if you happen to leave your rod unattended.

A note about that: I once lost a rod while fishing a live minnow from the pier untended. Guy standing there said, “Shot out there about 10-, 15-foot.”

This method will work for pompano, sea mullet, or pretty much anything that frequents the surf zone. If spots are running, substitute with sea worms for bait and try a size 2 hook. That usually happens in fall. Let me add that being observant to successful people is a good idea and most are glad to help.

Most piers have a rule limiting anglers to two rods. Not everyone follows. But if you do, your other rod should be set up with a Gotcha/Jerk Jigger plug. This is a lure that when it’s retrieved with a twitch-pause retrieve, won’t pop out of the water while being high up in the air like on a pier.

Attach it to your line with a 30-pound monofilament leader. They are so effective that some people use them all the time wherever bluefish, Spanish mackerel, or false albacore are surface feeding. But on the deck of the pier is where they shine. Not just for blues, macs, and albies either.

If you look down at the base of the pilings you will see a depressed area around each. By simply yo-yoing your plug around each piling, there is a good chance of hooking a flounder.

With a simple variation you can have a productive lure to catch anything that swims. To the end of your line, tie a three-way swivel. Tie two lengths of 20-pound line. Leave the first piece 3 feet long and the second piece 2 feet long. To the longer length attach a Gotcha plug. Any color is good as long as it’s red and white. To the shorter length tie on a D.O.A. shrimp lure in literally any color.

If fish are visible feeding on the surface, retrieve as always. If not, use a lift fall retrieve as if you’re jig fishing. Strikes will come on the drop and will be on either lure, with some large speckled trout falling to the plastic shrimp.

I’m pretty confident that with those two rods rigged and ready you will have a good chance of having success on any pier anywhere. Having said that, make sure to have a few extra of everything. Also, a fish finder rig with a piece of mullet has a chance to do SOMETHING on a day when not much else seems to be happening. Of course be ready if someone is getting and you are not, and switch it up if necessary.

Finally, fishing is supposed to be relaxing. If you’re on the pier on a busy fall day when the spots are thick, be prepared to get tangled up with someone. Just part of the way it goes. You can make your day better, or worse, by the way you handle it.

 Preparing pompano for the table

Start by completely removing the head and all entrails (ew). Now hold what’s left by the tail and scrape your knife from the back to front to remove the small scales. When you get it all it will not sound so … scrapey(?) Clean your knife blade and run it along a steel to tighten up your blade edge. Cut through the skin just to the backbone several times on each side. This is called scoring. Dust very lightly with flour and season liberally with whatever spices you like. Old Bay goes nicely.

Heat a nonstick sauté pan over medium heat with butter until it gets foamy.

Lay the fish in the pan and leave it alone. Don’t touch it, slide around, or otherwise touch it, if you mess with it, you will ruin it. After a few minutes the edges will change color slightly and will begin to come off the pan. When it’s done it will come loose and then you will see a beautiful crust has formed. Turn it over now.

Drop in a couple knots of butter and let it melt. Spoon the melted butter over the top. It won’t take long. Have a plate ready. Serve with fresh vegetables and some good bread. This is a solid date night recipe. Good luck.

Gardening isn’t just about seeing things others miss, it’s also the scents. Isn’t it amazing how much our tastes change with the advent of fall?

Instead of the salads and light desserts we enjoy during hotter weather, our souls crave hearty soups and stews, carb-rich foods like breads, and the fruits of our summer labors.

Many people won’t notice the changes, or think much about them, and just go on with their normal lives. Gardeners and farmers, more attuned to the seasons, relish the ancient rhythms. Things are slowing down, preparing to catch their breath in order to gear up for next year.

Colors are switching from shades of green to browns and purples and oranges, yellows and burnt umber. Again, most people won’t pay much attention, but even the colors or our clothing reflect the changing of the seasons.

Our wind, from the south most of the summer, switches to north or northwest, bringing cooler temps and lessening humidity. Or occasionally northeast, bringing storms and setting schools of fish to running, hopefully insuring a bountiful catch for our commercial fishermen.

Fall scents, such as wood smoke or burning leaves, or applesauce or pear butter simmering fill the air. Ever notice how easily you can distinguish leaf smoke from any other smoke scent? Maybe it’s because the leaves have stored up a summer’s worth of sunshine and blue skies and they’re releasing it back into the air.

Grasshoppers are giving it their best effort, filling their bellies and in turn, feeding birds and lizards. Butterflies are slurping nectar from any available source like insects possessed, some preparing to over-winter here and some to migrate.

One of my fondest childhood memories is experiencing the Monarchs on their way to Mexico. We had a huge oak tree in our yard. I went out to play one day and the tree looked odd. Upon closer inspection, it was absolutely enveloped in Monarchs. Flexing their wings like they’d become tree leaves being stirred by the lightest of zephyrs, they were resting. Next day, they were gone. How crazy is it to think something as fragile as a butterfly can fly thousands of miles?

The heady scent of cinnamon and spices, of casseroles baking, of winter squash and collards and sweet potatoes, sets our bellies to rumbling. Winter squashes, such as butternuts, with their hard shells, don’t grow in the winter, they merely ripen closer to cool weather and will keep most of the winter.

Summer squash grow in the summer but their softer skins turn to moldy mush quickly. Winter squash, which include pumpkins and cushaws and spaghetti squash as well as butternuts have traditionally been grown as winter keepers, designed to stave off starvation when other, more fragile vegetables are nothing but a memory.

Like late apples and Kieffer pears, also utilized as winter keepers, winter squash provided vitamins and nutrition when little else, other than greens or onions and other root crops, was available from the garden.

Some enjoy the flies-on-the-screen-door scents of collards and cabbage cooking, others can’t stand them. Hopefully you’ve gotten your winter garden planted and off to a good start so your cabbage and collards will be ready to eat for Thanksgiving. Blessed with multiple growing seasons in a year, eastern North Carolina provides ample opportunity to space out our gardening.

Veggies like broccoli and greens love the cooler fall weather. Lettuces and spinach and brussels sprouts thrive this time of year, while trying them in the spring, depending on how quickly the weather turns hot, is often an iffy proposition. Turnips and rutabagas and even radishes do well now. All of these, even uncooked, have distinct smells.

Wonder if that’s how moths and butterflies, the ones that lay the eggs that turn into nasty little green caterpillars who like to eat our cole crops, locate their choice egg laying spots? Can insects smell? How do they locate suitable plants? Inquiring minds want to know!

Ever noticed how even some seeds smell like the vegetables they will become? Carrots, for instance, with one whiff, there’s no doubt what they are. Some herb seeds are the same, dill being a favorite, and thyme. Queen Anne’s lace (Daucus carota), the wild ancestor of modern carrots, along with having gorgeous blooms, carries the distinct carrot aroma.

Mums are blooming, their scent as characteristic as that of marigolds or geraniums. The scent of freshly mown grass takes on more of a hay-like quality as the grasses go into winter mode.

If you have a suitable window, fresh herbs such as basil and dill will do fine inside for the winter. More cold hardy herbs, like parsley and rosemary, will be fine outside. Whether they’re fresh or dried, herbs smell wonderful. There’s nothing like a fresh baked loaf of rosemary-parmesan sourdough just out of the oven, and a big fat slice slathered in butter! Or fresh made applejacks/handpies/fruit pies.

Scents seem … more … during cooler weather, the way the stars are clearer and closer during the winter.

Scent is said to be the strongest of our senses, as far as memories go. Scent-triggered memories, the longest lasting and most particularly powerful of what our brains can conjure, can take us back to our childhoods or to any special memories with just one whiff. Cotton candy, anyone? Tobacco drying in a barn? Clothes hanging on the line? Rotten eggs? Grandpa’s pipe? Fresh-sawn lumber? A live Christmas tree? Pancakes and bacon, coffee and hot cocoa? A new box of crayons? Hay in a barn? Milk cows in a parlor?

How many memories just exploded from merely mentioning those scents?

Given the Scottish-Cherokee-Scots-Irish roots prevalent in our area, offering food is a time-honored gift. Differing circumstances led to all those ancestors of ours knowing firsthand about starvation. It’s often why the first thing that greets you — after the aroma of a home-cooked meal on the stove tantalizes your senses and sets your tummy to growling like a hungry dragon — is, “D’jeet yet? Come on in and set a spell.”

Before ketchup and ranch dressing became as firmly entrenched in our culture as salt in the ocean, relishes and pickled goods were once a staple at everyone’s table.

Often engendering fierce competitions among the ladies and their “special” recipes, who doesn’t remember our grandmas proudly placing pickles or colorful relishes on the table, beautifully displayed in cut glass or crystal bowls?

Why would something that seems so simple have such an impact?

The same way herbs and spices bring out the flavors of food, relishes and pickles livened up what would otherwise most likely be bland meals.

While relishes and pickled goods are both methods of preservation, they differ somewhat. Both methods use vinegar to extend the shelf life of vegetables, providing vitamins and such when fresh produce was not in season.

Pickles, for instance, are generally whole or large pieces of whatever vegetable preserved in brine or vinegar. Most pickled vegetables, such as beets or okra, are intended to be eaten as-is, as a complement to other items on the menu.

Did anyone else’s grandma make pickled beets and add whole boiled and peeled eggs to make colorful pickled eggs?

Relishes consist of chopped or minced vegetables, often combined with others and then pickled. Designed to enhance the taste of other foods, relishes are used more for condiments than actual sides.

Along with salt, different spices are used to flavor varying dishes, such as chow-chow. Sugar can be added to make a sweeter pickle, such as bread-and-butter, or a sweet relish such as chutney. Add crushed red pepper flakes or cayenne if you like things spicier.

Like fermenting, pickling and making relishes have been around for centuries.

As with mining or harvesting and then transporting salt, vinegar was, and is, a time-consuming proposition. Simple enough to make, the acid content and enough suitable containers to store the product could present challenges.

For apple cider vinegar, all that’s really needed are apples, a bit of sweetener, water, and time. You can even use just the peels and cores. Submerse in sweetened water, cover loosely with cheesecloth, and put in a warm dark place. Stir every day and make sure the apple parts are covered by the liquid. After two to three weeks remove the peels. Put real lids on the jars and let ferment until it reaches the level of tartness you desire, usually somewhere around six months or so.

Maybe you’ve had cider that turned to vinegar or vinegar that turned cloudy. Filled with little floaty bits and a mother. What? Not that kind of mother, a SCOBY. That’s an acronym for symbiotic culture of bacteria and yeast.

Whatever you do, don’t throw it out!

Looking like an alien something or other, a symbiotic culture of bacteria and yeast often forms on apple cider vinegar. Perfectly safe to consume, this film of beneficial bacteria can be used to speed up the time it takes to make a new batch of vinegar by adding some of it to your peel and water mixture.

Relishes and pickled items harken back to a time when nothing was wasted, thus using apple peels and cores to make cider vinegar. Do you know what else apple cores were used for? Pectin, the powdered stuff that comes in a box now and is probably made of some indefinable chemical substance. The stuff used to make jams and jellies jell.

How did earlier peoples know how much apple core pectin to use? If the jelly set, they were good. If it was runny, they’d add a few more apple cores while the jelly was still boiling.

Waste not, want not.

Dipping a cold spoon into the boiling liquid and seeing whether it dripped off quickly or moved slower and sheeted, or made a smiley face let them know if the jelly was thick enough.

Most of us know the story of Johnny Appleseed. Collecting apple seeds from cider mills and then going walkabout, seeding apple trees for the westward-bound settlers to find and utilize.

Whether true or a tall tale, there’s probably a grain of truth buried in there somewhere. The legend of Johnny Appleseed is entirely possible, because the apples used for cider weren’t from grafted trees, thus the seeds could be planted in order to gain an apple tree literally true to its roots.

Seeds from grafted trees will most likely revert to the rootstock, often crabapples or possibly some other rootstock that doesn’t bear edible apples. The apples used in cider mills were often a hard, tart apple and, while not much good for eating, they were better for making hard cider or cider vinegar.

Both items were indispensable to the settlers.

We all know the “stoplight” apples, Red Delicious, Yellow Delicious, and green Granny Smith that have been popular for the last few decades. At one time, there were over 300 named varieties of apples in the United States, each with a different purpose, such as cider, eating, drying, and making apple butter among many others, but that’s fodder for another column.

Vinegar has a low pH, meaning it’s very acidic. This low pH is why vinegar works well in preserving foods. Harmful bacteria can’t survive the acidity. The acidity is also why crocks were so important for storage. The glazed interior of a crock keeps the acidic vinegar from eating a hole in the otherwise unprotected container.

Water can be added to raise the pH if the vinegar became too acidic.

White vinegar is also one of the best, and safest, household cleaners. It leaves no residue, kills germs, and at the same time, it’s safe for human skin.

So, what’s the difference between cider vinegar and white vinegar? White vinegar, distilled from grains, is more acidic than cider vinegar, and it’s most often used for scrubbing floors or cleaning coffee pots. Cider vinegar, made from apples, has a golden-amber color and a sweeter flavor and is most often used for vinaigrettes, marinades and seasonings.

Pickling can be an either/or proposition, with personal preference often being the deciding factor.

Organizers of an afternoon fundraiser set for later this month invite folks to raise a glass to growing seafood and meet area aquaculture specialists to learn more about “a growing opportunity.”

Nacho Brewery in Morehead City is hosting the event set for 2 p.m. to 5 p.m. Saturday, July 26, at 2900-6 Arendell St., in the Morehead Plaza shopping center. All proceeds from beer and food sales will go directly to the Carteret Community College Aquaculture Technology Program.

Organizers said the event will support workforce development and promote the future of sustainable seafood in coastal communities.

According to the college’s website, “Aquaculture is defined simply as the farming and husbandry of aquatic organisms. This can be growing seafood or ornamental specimens for commercial sale, environmental enhancement, research, or education.”

The college says its program curriculum is comprehensive, covering hatchery, grow-out, processing and marketing.

“Students learn practical skills that prepare them for future employment in a variety of industries or for continuation at a four-year institution,” according to the college.

The fundraiser will include hands-on experiences with marine life, marine science trivia and delicious craft beer brewed in Carteret County.

It’s also possible to donate online to support the college program, just select “Aquaculture Program” from the options.

The vegetables have been planted, grown and harvested. Now what?

Well, for starters, take advantage of all the fresh produce and eat yourself silly. And then … if you want to enjoy the summer’s bounty later, you have options.

Some fruits and veggies, like potatoes and onions, will keep, at least for a while on their own, given the right conditions. The ones that won’t keep can be canned, frozen, dried or preserved in other ways.

Canning is probably the most labor-intensive method, but oh, so worth the time and effort!

You will need canning jars, lids and rings, and a pressure canner. Canning is time-consuming because of the prep and because it takes a while to heat the jars and contents to the right temperature, and then you have to leave the filled jars in the canner for the prescribed length of time, then they have to cool.

If you’re going to do a lot of canning, more than one canner is advisable, since you can only put so many jars in at one time. Also, the cooldown before you can safely remove the lid takes a good while.

Knowing how much time all this takes, I asked my Daddy how his Mom, my Grandma, managed to put enough up to feed their large family, with Daddy being the seventh of 10 children. I couldn’t imagine her doing a few jars at a time, especially on a woodstove in a small cabin or later, a larger farmhouse.

His answer: Grandma didn’t worry about using a pressure canner inside. Instead, she built a fire outside and situated a large galvanized washtub on rocks so it was balanced over the fire. She then put her jars and enough water to cover them in the tub.

This method, called water-bath canning, has been frowned upon and has fallen out of favor — especially for certain foods — because of the chance of botulism. Grandma would keep the fire going and take out jars or put more in as needed. None of my aunts or uncles starved to death or died of food poisoning, so Grandma must’ve done something right.

The reason pressure canning works better and is safer for nonacidic foods is that, while water-bath canning will seal the jars, it can’t kill botulism or other deadly organisms that may be present. Pressure canning heats the contents of the jars hotter than boiling alone, hot enough to kill all the odorless, tasteless, invisible nasties that might be waiting to cause severe illness.

Despite the work, there’s nothing more satisfying than listening to jar lids “ping” as the jars seal while resting.

Chill out

Preserving your produce in the freezer also takes a bit of prep. For instance, corn can be frozen whole, on the cob, but this takes up a ton of room in your freezer. A better way is to cut the corn off the cob, cook it, cool it, and then bag it before moving it to the freezer.

A very smart person, probably more than one, figured out you can put the whole shucked and silked cobs in a pot of boiling water for about two minutes — outside, using a gas burner works great — throw them in cold water, and then cut the corn off. This way, it can be bagged and go straight into the freezer – A huge time saver.

When the whole cob method is so much quicker and easier, why do we do it the old cut-cook-cool way? Because that’s the way we were taught, and that’s the way our moms and grandmas were taught. Humans tend to get stuck in a rut about some things — in a rut with blinders on.

Fresh blueberries can be frozen as-is. Simply pick them, put them in a container, and freeze.

So how come some things can go straight in the freezer and others have to be blanched, or thrown into boiling water for a couple minutes? Blanching stops the natural ripening process and keeps the veggies at their peak of taste and freshness. It also kills any insects you might have missed while picking and preparing.

Some veggies and fruits are better canned, some better frozen. Much of it comes down to personal preference. And there are other considerations as well.

If there’s a hurricane or other reason for a prolonged power outage, canned items will be just fine, whereas frozen food could thaw and be ruined.

Other methods

Another method of preserving harvests is drying. Natural drying is tough to do around here, simply because of the humidity. There are tons of dehydrators and canners out there in all sorts of sizes and price ranges if you want to go that route.

Yet another method of food preservation that’s become popular is vacuum-sealing. Vacuum-sealing removes all the oxygen from the package, so freezer burn and bacteria can’t spoil your food. This method will keep food tasting fresh for a long time.

You have to decide whether it’s worth it to you to purchase canning or dehydrating or other equipment you might only use a couple times a year. Of course, if you actually use the items, quite a bit of money can be saved. You can grow your own and put it up, go to a farmer’s market and buy produce to put up, or just keep what you already purchased from spoiling as quickly. Look for units that can do double duty, such as a dehydrator that you can also use to make yogurt.

With your own produce, you can always know what was sprayed on it, how it was picked and transported, or where it came from. Our farmers and truckers do an amazing job growing and getting food to us, but germs happen.

There are lots and lots of ways to enjoy fresh-tasting produce for longer than the short harvest season, also including pickling and fermentation. So, eat a bellyful, and when you can’t stand the thought of one more zucchini or cucumber or tomato, put some up for later.

You’ll be more than glad you did.

In previous columns we’ve touched on seeds, soil, plants, insects, temperature, phases of the moon, fertilizer and pH. All of that is well and good, but once you’ve planted your garden, and fertilized, and watered, and protected it from pests to the best of your ability, how do you know when it’s ready to harvest?

Some things are obvious. Tomatoes turn red, zucchini grows into a brickbat overnight, cucumbers tantalize with the perfect length. Peas and beans fill out their pods, yellow squash flashes its bright gold amongst green leaves.

Sometimes you can keep track of when you planted and judge your harvest time by counting the days. If you know that said vegetable needs around 120 days to mature, then you can somewhat base your harvest time on that. Of course, days to maturity also depends on temperature and rainfall.

A lot of harvesting is personal preference, such as picking something at the size you like best. Some of it is necessary before the produce becomes too large or too old, or before the insects devour it. Sometimes not-quite-ripe produce needs to be gathered before the birds and squirrels decide to feast, the way you pick not quite red enough tomatoes and let them finish ripening on the windowsill.

But how do you tell when something is ripe when you can’t see the vegetable — a crop like … potatoes, for instance? Nothing wrong with grabbling out a few little red taters now and then to mix in a pot of new peas or fresh green beans long before you dig the entire harvest.

Keeping an eye on the potato plants themselves is your best indicator. First off, they will bloom. Anywhere from a week to a couple weeks later, weather dependent, the plants will begin to yellow and start dying. Potatoes don’t like heat, so the sooner summer arrives, the faster the plants will fizzle.

Once the plants begin yellowing, try to pick a dry time to dig your potatoes. The yellowing plants will absorb less water, so if we have a lot of rain, more water will remain in the potatoes. The dryer it is when you dig, the longer the potatoes will last once they’re dug.

Or what about corn? The ears are wrapped all snug in their husks like a bug in a rug. Corn only has a few days between the not-filled-out-all-the-way stage and the oops-the-sugar-has-turned-to-starch stage and you might as well feed it to the chickens and hogs.

Again, the hotter the weather, the faster the corn will turn.

So, how can you tell without wasting innumerable ears by peeling back the shucks?

With corn, the color of the silk is one of the best indicators. The silk, looking like Rapunzel’s hair trailing down the tower wall, comes on golden white. By the time the corn is ready, the silk will become brown and brittle, and some of it may have fallen off. The tassels, like feathery looking topknots growing on top of the stalks, should have changed from green to straw colored.

The ear should feel solid and filled out. Peeling back the shucks a bit and pricking a kernel with a fingernail should produce a milky juice, or sap. If the juice is still clear, the corn is not quite ready.

What about cantaloupes? Or watermelons?

With cantaloupes, the netting should be tan instead of green and you should be able to smell cantaloupe aroma, enough to make you lick your lips in anticipation. Usually if you check them and decide to wait one more day, the turtles and fire ants will beat you to it, because if you can smell the delicious scent of cantaloupe, hungry critters can smell it a hundred times better. The turtles will gnaw a hole in the backside and scoop it out better than a melon baller. Fire ants love to drill a hole and infest the whole thing.

Also, cantaloupes are like Snickers bars for coyotes. They don’t bother picking individual melons, they just use the vine to drag the whole plant with its attendant delicacies away.

Watermelons are a bit trickier. With homegrown, day count is pretty much essential. With store-bought, who knows when they were planted. Thumping, while advocated by many people, isn’t always a foolproof way to judge ripeness.

A much better way is to look at the field spot, or the place where the watermelon rested on the ground while it was growing. The field spot should be yellowish or creamy tan in color.

The stem should be brownish, and the pigtail, the little curly tendril that runs out to the side from the main stem, should be brown.

While we can’t call yellow sweet onions Vidalias anymore, because the only onions that can legally be called Vidalias are the ones grown in Vidalia, Georgia, we can still grow them. We just have to call them yellow granex. You’ll know they’re ready to harvest when the tops start browning on the tip ends. You should be able to see the onion bulbs anyway, because sweet onions won’t make a big bulb unless they’re at least half out of the ground.

Have you ever seen the gorgeous onions grown in Beaufort and Hyde counties? Mattamuskeet sweet onions are a type of sweet Spanish onion. They thrive in the black soil around Lake Mattamuskeet and are usually available around the middle of June.

Every time I read an article about Mattamuskeet onions, it makes me think about a book called “Holes,” a young adult novel written by Louis Sachar. Onions figure prominently in the story, as well as a dried-up lakebed and a lost treasure. If you haven’t read it, give it a try.

It often seems like things take forever to ripen, and then all of sudden, they’re all coming off at the same time.

While it’s hard to wait until crops are ripe, and disappointing when we miss the window, the waiting is well worth it. Nothing tastes like fresh fruits and veggies when ripened to perfection!

Coastal Review will not publish Friday in observance of Independence Day.

The Core Sound Waterfowl Museum and Heritage Center is making this year’s Fourth of July shrimp fry set for Saturday “A Time to Honor our Community Leaders From Carteret County to western NC.”

The nonprofit holds the dinner annually to honor active military, veterans, frontline workers, teachers, school staff, health care professionals, power company line workers and all those who make the community safer and healthier with a complimentary plate, which can be reserved on the website.

This year, organizers have invited the Crystal Coast Water Rescue Team who responded to Black Mountain after Hurricane Helene hit in late September 2024, and Black Member Mountain Fire Department.

“We will be honoring the Crystal Coast Water Rescue Team that courageously traveled to Black Mountain during the Helene response last fall. Part of this recognition is to welcome members of the Black Mountain Fire Department who called on Carteret County for help,” organizers said, adding that the team would be there “to enjoy a much-needed rest from their continuing struggle/recovery and to host them at our event on July 5.”

Throughout the evening, attendees will have be able to enjoy “mountain music” in honor of Black Mountain with area bluegrass bands, Mac McRoy and The South Point Band and the Asher Brinson Band.

Preordered plates will be served from 4 p.m. to 5:30 p.m., at 1785 Island Road on Harkers Island. Others can preorder theirs for $20 online, at 806 Arendell St., Morehead City, the heritage center on Harkers Island, or by phone at 252-728-1500. Organizers “strongly encourage” getting tickets ahead of time.

Wednesday is “Tater Day” at Island Farm, a living history site in Manteo that gives glimpse into life in the 1850s on Roanoke Island.

Set for 9 a.m. to 3 p.m. Wednesday, June 18, visitors can dig potatoes in the gardens, and enjoy kettle-fried potato chips made with freshly harvested Island Farm potatoes at the cookhouse.

“In 1850, Adam Etheridge raised 200 bushels of corn, 50 bushels of field peas, 100 bushels of sweet potatoes and 20 bushels of Irish potatoes – all on 15 acres of his then-420-acre farm, which is now the current-day site of Island Farm,” according to the organization.

“Tater Day” is part of Island Farm’s historic food series, which seeks to highlight local food traditions and culture throughout the year.

The program is included in the regular cost to visit Island Farm, which is $11 for those 4 and older, and no charge for those younger.

Island Farm is owned and operated by the nonprofit organization, Outer Banks Conservationists, founded in 1980 to protect natural, cultural and historic resources, through preservation and conservation.

Every summer, the women of Ocean City Beach organized crabbing trips to Topsail Island’s north end. On a waxing moon, when the tide was exactly right, moms and their kids skimmed the saltwater shallows hunting blue crabs, as many as they could carry. The fat jimmies and sooks were the promise of delectable family recipes: rich gumbo, savory crab casseroles and delicate crab-stuffed eggs.

“My mom would always say that on a growing moon, you get more crab meat than on a wasting moon,” Kenneth Chestnut says. “I didn’t believe it, but I became a believer.”

Chestnut’s faith arrived one unforgettable day. The tide had just begun to turn, creating tranquil waters that are a guaranteed feast for hungry blue crabs. Suddenly, the marsh teemed with them, and harvest baskets quickly overflowed.

“It was almost biblical,” Chestnut marvels. Faced with this unexpected bounty, the women had to think fast. How would they get such a haul home?

“They told us boys take off our jeans — we had on swimming trunks underneath — tie up the bottoms of them and fill them with crabs,” Chestnut says, chuckling at the memory.

Back at Ocean City Beach, everyone went to work steaming the mountains of crabs. Pickers meticulously avoided damaging the fragile back shells. Those were always set aside to dry in the sun for use in one of the most beloved dishes: deviled crabs.

Chestnut’s mother, Caronell, took her version to Michelin-star level. She began by sautéing minced onions and celery in rich butter before adding flour and milk to create a luxurious bechamel sauce. After gently folding in sweet crab meat and chopped, hard-boiled eggs, Caronell Chestnut mounded the exquisite mixture into the sun-bleached shells. She finished each serving with a dusting of cracker meal and “small tip of butter” before baking them golden brown for a neighborhood feast.

And it wasn’t just crabs at those delicious gatherings.

“They would prepare dishes and then share dishes. All kinds,” Chestnut reminisces. Food was the heartbeat of the hamlet, a profound expression of connection, so central, so vital, that someone eventually realized Ocean City Beach needed its own cookbook.

More than recipes

The crabbing and cooking memory Kenneth Chestnut relates resonates deeply with my own childhood in Jacksonville, just 25 miles away. Yet, our neighborhoods were worlds apart.

The Chestnuts were Black; my family was white. Although the Civil Rights Act had been law for a decade when we first drove through Ocean City Beach on our way to and from favorite crabbing spots in the early 1970s, Topsail Island’s lines of segregation were clear.

We understood Ocean City Beach as separate, “the Black beach.” Its enduring community cookbook, originally published in 1980 and titled “Ms. Winnie’s Seafood Cook Book,” is a powerful testament to Maya Angelou’s profound truth: “Human beings are more alike than we are unalike. And the minute we began to understand, just the slightest part of that, we recognize ourselves as family.”

Winnie Robinson, a long-time Ocean City Beach resident, painstakingly assembled that first recipe collection as a fundraiser. Chestnut imagines she walked house to house, asking cooks to share their most delicious creations.

The sumptuous dishes, often elaborate in their seasonings — fish chowder with a splash of white burgundy wine, dill- and nutmeg-scented clam fritters, grilled sesame trout, sweet-and-sour sauteed croakers, to name a few — tell a complex story.

In 1949, Edgar Yow, a white man and former Wilmington mayor, witnessed the harsh realities of racism. He envisioned a haven where people of color could enjoy the shore and own oceanside homes in peace.

Yow held seaside property and collaborated with Kenneth Chestnut’s father, Wade Chestnut, and Wade’s siblings to turn part of the acreage into the milelong Ocean City Beach. By 1954, this determined community had 15 homes, a welcoming motel, a bustling restaurant and, soon after, an Episcopal chapel, a church summer camp and the iconic Ocean City Fishing Pier.

“When growing up, I would go on the beach and I would see it was really crowded to the left, really crowded to the right, recalls Carla Torrey, editor of the cookbook’s latest incarnation, “Tried and True Recipes.” “And there would maybe be me and two other people on our beach. And I always was like, ‘Why is that? Is there something special about me?’”

“And then I later realized why. That it was this invisible line where nobody crossed over and came on our beach.”

Unwelcome at many restaurants and living somewhere set apart for no other reason than its residents’ skin color, Ocean City Beach’s talented chefs cultivated a culinary utopia.

Torrey shows a fuzzy black-and-white photo of a community garden thriving even in dry, sandy soil. She yearns for the creamed corn one neighbor prepared fresh from the cob. Chestnut recalls his dad salt-curing mullet in a barrel and neighbors carefully tending molting crabs that would become fried, soft-shell delicacies.

Kitchen creativity, Torrey and Chestnut explain, blossomed during the summers. Moms and their kids, home from school, lived at Ocean City all week. Working dads joined their families on weekends. The women supported each other by sharing meals and recipes. Those carefree days offered them the luxury of time to lovingly prepare food and experiment with fresh ideas.

“It was a joy to her if she didn’t feel pressured to cook,” Chestnut remembers about his mother. “I think that was why she especially loved it down here.”

Each cook infused delights with flavors and methods passed down through the generations along with the latest trends, like Carol King’s Prawn and Egg Curry and Bessie W. Hill’s shrimp-stuffed eggplant.

As Winnie Robinson herself wrote in the original cookbook’s acknowledgments, “Our source has been the ‘world of food.'”

Cooking up the future

Today, 30 Ocean City Beach homes survive from a peak of 100 that existed before hurricanes Fran and Berta took their tolls in 1996. Storms also claimed the Ocean City Beach pier, leaving behind only a solitary tower standing sentinel on a scrubby oceanfront lot. The village nearly blends into the relentless sprawl all around. In 1990, North Topsail Beach absorbed Ocean City Beach into its town limits.

The triumph of civil rights has slowly, gently, loosened ties to this community born of necessity. “Descendants (of original homeowners) can go anywhere and buy anywhere, as opposed to just here,” Chestnut notes. “That’s the way it should be.”

Yet, the important story of Ocean City Beach is far from forgotten. It lives on in an exhibit at Surf City’s Missiles and More Museum, tracing Topsail Island’s history. The community holds a place on both the N.C. Civil Rights Trail and the Jacksonville Onslow African-American Heritage Trail. A roadside marker near the old pier entrance humbly sums up Ocean City Beach’s founding. Blue street signs delineate its roads.

And there’s the cookbook.

While the societal injustices that compelled Ocean City Beach’s creation are a painful memory, they don’t diminish the deep nostalgia families feel for the idyllic summer days they spent in the village. Ensuing generations cling to heirloom recipes and the cherished tradition of sharing meals, a legacy of resilience and joy expressed in the community cookbook.

Chestnut carries on his mother’s clam fritter recipe, the one with dill and nutmeg. His daughter still prepares her grandmother’s Shrimp and Rice Surprise, an easy, irresistible mélange of ham, sausage, shrimp, mushrooms and melty cheese.

Torrey, driven by a passion for preservation, spent hours immersed in Robinson’s pages. She brought forth treasured recipes and solicited new ones for “Tried and True Recipes,” published in 2014, including her own elaborate citrus crabcakes with coriander and blood orange aioli.

Sales of “Tried and True Recipes” help fund maintenance of the chapel and community building, which continue to host gatherings. Potlucks and an annual Labor Day block party happen annually.  

Proceeds also support Ocean City Beach’s annual Jazz Festival. Every Fourth of July, people of all colors come together for two days of music. Torrey’s husband, Craig, organizes a historic walking tour during the event, guiding visitors through streets that hold so many stories.

“Tried and True Recipes” is always available at the festival and year-round online. Both the cookbook and the Jazz Festival are powerful vehicles to tell the story of Ocean City Beach, Carla Torrey says.

“And hopefully keep the history going so it’s not forgotten.”

Caronell Chestnut’s Deviled Crabs

½ cup chopped onion

½ cup chopped celery

½ stick butter or margarine

2 tablespoons all-purpose flour

½ cup milk

1 tablespoon Worcestershire sauce

Seasonings as desired

1 pound crab meat

2 hard-boiled eggs, chopped

Cracker meal or cracker crumbs

Butter or margarine

Sauté onions and celery in butter or margarine until vegetables are tender. Remove from heat and add flour, milk, Worcestershire and seasonings. Return to heat and cook until thick. Add more milk if necessary for the right consistency. Mix this with crab meat and hard-boiled eggs. Fill crab shells or a baking dish with mixture. Sprinkle top with cracker meal or cracker crumbs. Place a tip of butter or margarine on top of each shell. Bake at 350 degrees until brown (about 25-30 minutes).

Never having been much of a science experiment fan — unless it was experimenting with reading different science fiction authors, — I’ve never heard of, much less participated in what seems to be a fairly challenge in common science, technology, engineering and math, or STEM, and the regular classroom.

For the “egg drop challenge,” the goal is to drop an egg without cracking it using various means such as cotton, sand, or other soft materials to cushion the egg.

But what if you want to deliberately skew the test in order to crack the egg?

According to a paper by Massachusetts Institute of Technology, or MIT, students? Authors? Professors? The summation of the article isn’t clear on this point, but any who… They’re at MIT, so they must be smarter than the average bear, right?

Tal Cohen, Hudson Borja da Rocha and S. Kiana Naghibzadeh spent a lot of time dropping eggs from different heights.

While it sounds like a rooftop frat-boy prank perpetuated on unsuspecting passersby, these folks were serious. Using a lot of scientific equipment and a ton of equations, they carried out their dastardly deed.

To be fair, they only dropped the eggs — 60 at each height — from 8, 9 and 10 millimeters. So … 5/16 of an inch. Almost 7/16 of an inch. Just over 3/8 of an inch. Barely any height at all!

Why didn’t they do a really fun experiment and see how long it takes an egg to scream when dropped off the Eiffel Tower? Or the Empire State Building? Or the side of the Grand Canyon?

Kind of wondering how much of a grant they got to do this. I mean, eggs are expensive. I can hear my parents and grandparents right now ranting about crazy people wasting good eggs on such foolishness. “Must’a been some of those high falutin’ college kids with more book larnin’ than common sense!” For some reason I’m hearing this in Granny’s voice from the “Beverly Hillbillies.”

Pretty sure I could most certainly be persuaded to drop a lot of eggs for not a lot of money. Apologies to my parents and grands and all the hardworking hens out there. Although, I’ve dropped quite a few eggs over my lifetime for no money, and I can 100% tell you that they break.

Whether they’re dropped on grass, on the floor, on the kitchen counter, height doesn’t seem to matter either. I’ve bobbled eggs taking them out of nest boxes and cartons. I’ve fumbled them off the counter trying to get them ready to cook. Once I even lost my grip on a full egg bucket. It slammed down like a parachute-less space shuttle recovery pod landing in the ocean. I can swear for a certainty, every single one of those eggs shattered.

Have you ever played the hardboiled egg game at Easter? Where opponents each hold an egg, pointed end toward their opponent, and then they smash their eggs together? Some eggs crumple at the first bit of contact. Some can go round after round before succumbing to the inevitable.

I mean, when people intentionally crack eggs, they aim for the middle of the long side. Is that because it cracks easier? Thousands of years of ingrained habit? Or is it because it’s darn hard to crack the pointed end of the egg and still be able to extract the contents without filling your now freed egg with bits of shell?

Not only did this distinguished crowd from MIT drop eggs from different heights so they landed on their sides, they then repeated the experiment by dropping the eggs point down. Some fat end down, and some narrower end down. Neither end made any difference in whether the eggs survived or not.

Calm down, Granny! I didn’t personally have anything to do with this travesty. (I imagine Granny brandishing her broom and banging pans around while muttering imprecations about Jethro’s lack of good sense.)

Their educated “Eggdicator” conclusion: Eggs that landed on their side needed to be dropped from a higher starting point in order to make them crack. Eggs dropped pointed end down cracked at lower starting point.

As far as I can tell, their theory is thus: The longer side of the egg has more give, thus dispersing the impact over a larger area whereas the pointed end is stiffer when compressed. Kind of the way an arch equals out pressure better than a flat surface.

But enquiring minds need to know more about the “eggs-speriment.”

The eggs were purchased at Costco, so would using farm-fresh eggs have made a difference? How old were the laying hens? Were they “spring chickens” or Miss Prissy?

The older a hen gets — somewhere around 18 months to 2 years old — the less eggs she lays and the thinner her egg shells become, which is why people used to buy or hatch new hens every spring. Hence the term, “spring chicken” used to describe something in the prime of its life.

While we’re on the subject of age, how old were the eggs? Were they fresh or months old? Somewhere in between? As my daddy sagely advised me a long time ago, “Best leave those floating goose eggs be.”

One has to wonder, no matter how smart people at MIT are, just how knowledgeable are they about eggs?

I mean, while the term “egghead” might be applicable in this instance, I keep getting a mental snapshot of Miss Prissy’s only son, Egghead Jr., scribbling advanced mathematical theorems but unable to play ball.

Really, really smart, but at the same time single-minded to the point of blindness. Or maybe Looney Tunes’ Henery Hawk, the loudly obnoxious and totally oblivious fledgling chickenhawk who knows he’s supposed to eat chickens but has no idea what a chicken actually is.

All joking aside, kudos to the MIT crowd. What seems to be a useless waste of time and food is actually a vital experiment in improving insights into varied applications. For instance, improving the design of safety equipment or improving the strength of buildings.

Wouldn’t it be awesome if we could plant gardens all at one time and be done with it?

Sadly, neither plants nor humans are geared to do that.

It’s a good thing gardening is a labor of love. Kind of like raising a child, it’s a never-ending, ongoing process.

Sure, getting the garden planted all at once would be amazing. But there’s a reason it doesn’t work that way. Lots of reasons, actually.

Cold crops — cabbage, collards, onions, potatoes, peas, lettuces, radishes, and many others — thrive in cooler weather. Heat kills them, just as heat increases the number of insects that love to nosh on cold crops.

Warm-season crops — tomatoes, peppers, squashes, green beans and a host of others — can’t take cold, but again, heat increases the number of insects and diseases.

While gardening would definitely be easier and humans might prefer a one-and-done, the disparity insures we have food year-round.

Before there were grocery stores with year-round produce sourced from all over the world, people ate what was local and in season. And hopefully, they canned or dried or otherwise stored enough to last them until the next time that particular crop ripened again.

If we listen to our bodies, we’ll notice cravings for certain things, leading us to search out that particular food. Usually a craving means you are deficient in some vitamin or mineral, and ancient wisdom, wisdom we’ve come to ignore in favor of chemical laden salty/sugary snacks, directs us to what we need.

Nearly unheard of nowadays, scurvy, a disease caused by a severe lack of vitamin C and easily corrected by eating citrus fruits, is ridiculously avoidable now. What would people do with no access to citrus?

Rose hips, the part that stays on the bush if the flowers aren’t picked and they’re allowed to go to seed, is chock full of … You guessed it! Vitamin C! Rose hips are most noticeable in the fall, and sometimes will stay on the plant all winter. Voila! Vitamin C with no citrus!

What’s one of the first plants to appear in the spring? Dandelions. Dandelion greens are full of A, C, K, and some B vitamins.

Think about this: Nomadic peoples followed the herds, moving along with the seasons. The animals, whether domestic or wild, constantly stayed on the move. This ensured a fresh supply of food and water unsullied by the byproducts of large animals scarfing immense quantities of grasses and shrubby plants. Not only that, it kept internal parasites to a minimum because most parasites are expelled in feces and then remain in the soil, ready to infect the next hapless victim. Constant movement ensured longer periods between grazing, thus giving the parasites less of a chance to survive.

Humans, used to following the movements of their mobile food sources, took advantage of the ever-changing variety of foods as well. Berries, fish, game, nuts — whatever was in season, just like the critters they followed.

Is that an easy life? No.

Remaining stationary is much easier than staying on the move all the time, even though nomadic peoples have breaking down and setting up camp down to a science. Staying in one place gives humans a chance to grow crops instead of depending solely on foraging.

Both lifestyles are all about timing.

Nomadic peoples have to be at the right place at the right time: when a certain fruit is ripe, when fish are spawning and easy prey, when edible and medicinal plants are at their peak.

Staying in one place and growing a garden — while still foraging locally —  means a steadier supply of food, provided you’re a good gardener and the weather cooperates. If there’s a drought, or floods, or unseasonably hot or cold weather, it doesn’t matter how good a gardener you are, which is where knowing how to forage or hunt becomes critical.

But staying in one place means you still have to follow growing cycles. When cole crops are phasing out, warm-season crops should be just getting started.

So how do you know when to plant? In our area, we’re blessed with two growing seasons every year. While we can plant cold crops in late winter or early spring, we can get another crop in about the middle of September.

Same with warm-season crops. We can do an early spring crop, and do one later in the summer that usually lasts until frost.

Timing is critical in spring crops. We need to be past the danger of frost, while still getting the crops to set blossoms and mature before the summer heat sets in.

There are endless old sayings about when to plant, with Easter being the most used. Never on a set date, Easter is always the first Sunday after the last full moon after the 21st of March. Partly because there’s always more extreme weather around a full moon, and partly because you want to get your warm-season stuff out as close to the full moon in April as you can. That way it has a month to grow and get stronger before the next full moon hits. While they’re always about, insects hatch out in greater numbers around a full moon.

Among the many sayings about when to safely plant so you can avoid frost, these are some favorites: When the dogwoods bloom. When pecan leaves are the size of a mouse’s ear. When the oaks leaf out. When you hear a whippoorwill. When grapevines leaf out. When the bats come out.

While these are never a failsafe, the older folks noticed patterns and judged planting times accordingly.

Leading to many catchy tried and true sayings, the older people heeded weather, and migratory patterns of birds and animals. What phase the moon was in. Where the sun was in its yearly back and forth between solstices.

Like the old adage “red sky at night, sailor’s delight; red in the morning, sailors take warning,” paying heed to hard-learned words of wisdom is a wise thing to do.

An afternoon of environmental education and activities are planned for Wilmington’s 35th annual Earth Day Festival set for noon to 6 p.m. Saturday, April 26, at Long Leaf Park.

Hosted by Wilmington Earth Day Alliance, there is no charge to attend the festival themed “Our Power, Our Planet.”

“It’s a fun-filled afternoon of live music, good food, environmental information and activities for the whole family,” organizers said. “More than 50 environmentally-minded exhibitors and vendors will be there, explaining issues that affect our environment and illustrating how you can get involved.”

Attendees can enjoy live entertainment by “old school” rock band, Au Naturales at noon, indie rock band, Tercel at 2 p.m. and reggae band, the Righteous Roots at 4 p.m.

The “Rapping Red Oak” will lead the children’s Nature Brigade Parade at 1:30 p.m. and perform children’s songs.

Anyone is welcome to join the community drummers and dancers drum circle at 3:30 p.m.

Food trucks expected to be on-site are Johnny Cheesehead, A&M’s Red Food Truck, all-vegan food trucks Well Fed Ed and Arabelle Cookin’ and chocolatier, Chocolate and S’more. Fermental Beer & Wine, Good Hops Brewing, Wilmington Brewing Co, Bill’s Brewing Co. Noni Bacca Winery and Panacea Brewing Co. will be selling beverages.

Culligan Water will provide drinking water, and guests are encouraged to bring their own reusable water bottles.

Great Outdoor Provision Co. donated a Hurricane-brand kayak that will be raffled off.

There is no charge to park on-site, or at the New Hanover County Senior Resource Center to take a shuttle to the festival.

Leashed pets are welcome in the grassy areas but not inside the tents or in the food area. Only trained service animals may accompany their humans on the WAVE Transit bus.

We as anglers spend an inordinate amount of time obsessing about hooks, lines, leaders, baits, lures, rods, reels, and a whole host of different equipment and gear.

There’s one particular item or group of items that often gets forgotten about. It is unfortunate too, because this can often make or break a day on the water more than you might imagine.

Of course, I am talking about food.

Having good food or snacks available will allow anglers to stay on the water longer without getting tired and make everybody happy during slow periods that inevitably come along.

A quick Google search comes up with this result:

“A good fishing trip snack mix should include a combination of protein, healthy fats, carbohydrates, and be easy to eat on the go, typically consisting of items like: mixed nuts, dried fruit, seeds, beef jerky, pretzels, whole grain crackers, granola, protein bars, and even some dark chocolate chips.”

Back in my day when I was a full-time fly-fishing guide, a lady who fished with me a couple of times a year always used to bring some Famous Amos chocolate chip cookies. They, along with those fancy soft drinks from Fresh Market, were always a welcome addition to a day on the water. Thank you, Ms. Janet.

I recently did a very complex scientific survey (I asked a bunch of people I know), about the kind of snacks people bring out with them for a day of fishing and also which things they explicitly avoid. I got some very interesting results.

One of the main things that you’ll find in talking about snacks on boats — and in going fishing — is the displeasure among people about bananas. Bananas are seen as some kind of voodoo and will bring bad luck to all aboard any kind of boat or engaged in fishing or otherwise. I checked a lot of different resources, there is no one source for this belief. Snopes.com literally says nobody knows, so take that as you will.

Another thing that I have found is a strong distaste for things like Vienna sausages and potted meat. Apparently, people were stuck eating these things on fishing trips as a kid, and don’t wish to recreate the situation in any way. I have to say, I agree with them. There is nothing more disgusting than Vienna sausages. Of course, if you like them, there will be no judgment here, but maybe some side-eye. If you offer them to me, I might throw you out of the boat.

Popular choices include things like cereal bars, protein bars and other portable snacks that can be stuffed in a pocket. Once in a while, there are people who will splurge on big-time takeout lunches like fried chicken. Leftover pizza is also a popular choice. But for the most part. you find that easily “hideable” items that are portable and that can be held over time are the most popular choices.

Like anything that we find from individuals, a lot of people have particular choices and even traditions that they follow when it comes to snack time. For instance, Hall of Fame lacrosse coach of Cardinal Gibbons High School in Raleigh, Mike Curatola, has a tradition that he and his son Jonny get Swedish Fish candy. They are not allowed to eat any of them until after they actually catch a fish for real, and then they have to eat them head first. I mean, traditions are important.

Kesley Gallagher, from Los Angeles, tells me her husband always brings gummy bears on fishing trips, but when they go to the beach in Malibu for surf fishing, she gets the Hostess powdered mini-donuts. Again, tradition counts.

There can be very strong preferences when it comes to boat snacks. Joel Elliott from Durham says that he has become an “accidental connoisseur of mediocre food.” He even has rankings: First would be the chicken tenders from Publix; next, fried chicken from Harris Teeter, and third, wings from Food Lion. He adds that to avoid the sugar of sports drinks, but to replenish on a hot day, he has started bringing packets of powdered electrolytes and adding them to bottles of water on the go.

My good friend Kristi Irvin says that she always tries to have coffee, water, and protein bars. From personal experience in fishing with her, there’s a lot of coffee, and it’s very strong.

She always has sweet and salty snacks available — like a good mom — when you go fishing.

My friends who are fishing guides have interesting responses to this question. Ryan from Pennsylvania says his schedule is not very conducive to getting good food. It’s what you can get at the gas station or a snack bar, late at night or early in the morning.

Some of the younger guys I’m noticing have Red Bulls and Zyns as a big part of their “diet.”

Freshwater fishing guides, who work on rivers and streams, often have packed lunches and streamside or lakeside cookouts. Not often with saltwater guys will you see that!

Let me just say thank you to all those who participated in my “highly scientific” survey. Your effort and input are very much appreciated.

In the end, the choice of food items to bring on a fishing trip is as varied and complicated as each individual fishing person, so don’t read too much into it. However, I still say that Vienna sausages and potted meat are not on my table.

No matter how big worldwide brands like McDonald’s or KFC get, they’ll never match the iconic status of a tiny Morehead City burger stand named El’s Drive-In.

Tucked away on a gravel lot, shaded by centuries-old live oaks that whisper of a time when forest bordered this 69-year-old restaurant, El’s has no flashy, sky-high sign beckoning motorists from the road. The same faded, white menu board that’s always listed El’s beloved super burger and shrimp burgers is all that crowns the vanilla milkshake-colored brick box.

If you didn’t know El’s was there sitting on its plain concrete slab, you’d probably never stop.

But everyone knows it’s there.

“Sometimes the train will call in his order and say, ‘Can you have it ready in 20 minutes?’” El’s third-generation owner Shelton Franks says, raising his chin to the conductor’s whistle as a locomotive chugs down tracks dividing U.S. 70 in front of El’s.

“And he’ll block the traffic right there so he can come in and get his order,” Franks’ mother, Gail, adds.

The affection people have for this tiny take-out was especially obvious when El’s re-opened on Jan. 17, following a nine-month closure. Every vehicle jamming the parking lot held a personal story.

Mending hearts

Construction worker Joseph Booth is sure he’s been an El’s regular since the days right after he was born 45 years ago in the hospital next door. “My momma used to love coming over here,” he said, “All the time!”

High school sweethearts Josh and Amanda Lyle not only grew up eating at El’s, the restaurant even played a role in rekindling their teenage romance. “I wanted to get back together because I realized the wrongs of my ways,” Josh recalled, “so, she agreed to meet me at El’s after school one day, and it was January 17, of 1997.”

Josh convinced carhops to deliver chocolate milkshakes to his vehicle when Amanda arrived, and he set the mood with her favorite country music playing. “We’ve been together ever since.”

“And we do still try to come back every year on this day,” Amanda said.

An obituary in the local newspaper days before the reopening is one of many over the years to note a deceased’s love of El’s. It reminded Gail Franks of the man who once stood atop the building in honor of a buddy who passed. “All his friends had their hot rod cars lined up out here in the parking lot and did a drive away,” Gail recalled, tearing up.

“You know, people just have a lot of memories. If it weren’t for them, we’d just be a little place.”

Because of its location in a popular coastal tourist area, El’s has long been known outside of North Carolina, but its fame across the state and beyond exploded with the introduction of Google reviews and social media, Gail said. Especially during the pandemic, fans shared their El’s experiences.

But it was clear by 2024 that the old building could no longer withstand the weight of time. The Franks family was forced to shutter El’s that April and do the unimaginable — tear the place down.

A family’s resilience

The Franks family didn’t bulldoze El’s. They convinced contractors, including Booth, to dismantle it brick by brick. Workers salvaged 90% of those bricks to construct a new El’s identical to the original that an indomitable Elvin Franks built in 1959.

Though a childhood bout of osteomyelitis left him with a limp, Elvin persevered. He worked tirelessly in various restaurants since high school, eventually channeling his passion and determination into starting his own business.

“He had a good work ethic and, you know, he cared about what we put out there,” Elvin’s son, Mark Franks, said.

Elvin co-owned an Atlantic Beach drive-in before leasing what is now nearby Cox’s Family Restaurant. There, Elvin and his wife, Helen, operated a drive-in named This Is It, but Elvin soon realized owning property was his best bet.

Ambition brought challenges. Construction of the first El’s couldn’t begin until a house on the property was relocated. Gail Franks recalls stories about Elvin and Helen owning just one car. “She worked in the daytime, and he would work at night,” Gail said. At midnight, Mom would gather her children for the drive to pick up Elvin after his shift.

Mark always knew he would work at El’s. Family legend has it that when Mark’s draft number for the U.S. Army came up, Elvin “talked to somebody” to ensure his son wouldn’t report to duty until after clocking one more summer at the restaurant. “I got in on what they called ‘the delayed-entry program,'” Mark said with a grin.

Like his dad, Shelton was happy to start working at El’s as soon as he was old enough, around age 12. Now, he runs the place, although Shelton stresses that his father “still beats me out here every morning.” And Mark was right there in the kitchen on reopening day.

“He’s my best friend,” Shelton said, “so, I guess I never thought about doing anything else. Why wouldn’t I want to help my dad? Why wouldn’t I want to keep this going?”

Gail is El’s bookkeeper. She and Mark’s daughter, Jenna, have lent a hand at the restaurant too. When the family agreed to expand to Smyrna in 2024, while the original location was under renovation, the goal wasn’t to seed a mega brand. Instead, Shelton wanted to help a cousin fulfill his own entrepreneurial dream. The independently operated El’s food truck there offers the same beloved menu and features a convenient drive-up window. Despite its remote address, a steady stream of loyal customers lines up.

No shortcuts

The Frankses write at El’s website that they have lovingly maintained the Morehead City restaurant “so you can feel the history — but not taste it.” Yet, it’s clear the values that the late Elvin Franks instilled all those years ago still season each order.

“I try to tell people who work for me, ‘Don’t send anything out that you wouldn’t want to receive,’” Shelton said.

What looks like chaos along the narrow kitchen line is a synchronized dance of short-order and prep cooks who patty Black Angus ground beef each morning into El’s signature burgers, the most popular items on the menu.

Creamy slaw for the top-selling “All The Way” — a classic Carolina burger that also gets mustard, chili and onions — is still prepared from-scratch according to Helen Franks’ recipe, with an unexpected hint of ketchup. “If it weren’t for the slaw, we’d just be another burger joint,” Shelton said as his father nodded in agreement.

Every shrimp burger, every piece of fried chicken, everything on the menu, from BLTs to oyster dinners, is cooked to order, no matter if 20 tickets crowd the board and an equal number waits stacked on the counter to take their place.

With nary a second of dilly dally, carhops whiz back and forth, delivering brown bags stuffed full of El’s goodness to what resembles a parking lot pile up. Servers magically monitor who’s just pulled in, who gets which bag and who needs special attention because they’ve been waiting in their vehicle too long.

“It’s hard to explain how we keep track of it,” said Mary Magara, who’s been working at El’s since 2006. “You just know.”

Between monitoring a griddle covered in burgers and five fryers all a go, cooks still take time to slide food to the few people, like Robert Ligas, who slip inside to grab their call-in orders.

Customers know to stay out of the way, but even in the lunch-rush madness, cooks alert Ligas that burgers for his six-man painting crew are almost ready. He doesn’t mind a delay. “We’ve been waiting nine months, so everybody wants a cheeseburger.”

Where did his team eat while El’s was closed? Ligas answers with a true testament of loyalty to this timeless piece of delicious history. “We brought a grill to work, and we made our own burgers.”

Editor’s note: Amanda Lyle is chief community engagement officer with the North Carolina Coastal Federation, which publishes Coastal Review.

​Second of two parts. Read Part 1.

By the time Chase Luker pointed the headlights of his king cab truck down a narrow country road that returned to Columbia, nighttime blanketed rural Tyrrell County.

A hunter safety specialist with the North Carolina Wildlife Resources Commission, Luker had spent his evening with Coastal Review meandering along farm tracks on private land, with permission, and the dirt lanes of the Pocosin Lakes National Wildlife Refuge, to catch a glimpse of American black bears.​

As the unofficial tour of Tyrrell County came to a close, Luker said that he’d never met anyone who hates bears.

“Everybody loves bears, but the people that love them the most are the people that hunt them,” Luker said, adding the hunters “care a lot about the bears and what they can do to protect the species.”

Bears also seem to be a source of pride for Tyrrell County residents and businesses. During an early dinner at the Mexican grill downtown earlier that day, two locals shared photos of bear sightings.

A longtime hunter, Luker manages the 13-county District 1 that spans from Currituck to Carteret County and Greene County is the farthest county west. He also enjoys writing, carving decoys and, when he has time, guiding private hunting tours.

Luker noted that 150 years ago “we didn’t use canola oil, butter, we used bear fat, bear grease, rendered down.” He said there are numerous layers involved in what draws people to bear hunting. There’s a lot of legends surrounding black bears, and it’s “part of our American fabric.”

Black bear hunting heritage in North Carolina dates back to early Native Americans and was adopted by early colonial settlers, “Bear hunting continues to be an important tradition in North Carolina, bringing together friends and families, providing food for the table, and teaching outdoor and naturalist skills, the commission’s Game Mammals and Surveys Supervisor Colleen Olfenbuttel told Coastal Review recently.

She was the black bear and furbearer biologist, when she was responsible for managing and conserving black bears and 17 furbearer species, from 2007 until earlier this year, when she took on her current role.

“For decades, most bear hunters used the assistance of trained hounds to pick up the scent of a bear and track it,” Olfenbuttel continued. “In fact, the official state dog of North Carolina is the Plott hound, which was bred for hunting bears in North Carolina starting in the early 1800s.”

For a long time, the state’s black bear population suffered. “Black bears were once restricted to remote areas and reached very low population levels in the mid-1900s,” according to the agency. Hunters and conservationists pushed for bear hunting regulations beginning in the 1930s and for the state to establish a wildlife resources agency to manage wildlife and enforce wildlife laws.

Hunters joined in the conservation effort when the commission began managing the species in the 1970s, she said. The bear hunting community contributed by providing data needed to make science-based management decisions, and helped fund conservation and research efforts through hunting license sales and the Pittman-Robertson Act of 1937, which imposes an excise tax on firearms and ammunition.

Olfenbuttel added that “The restoration of black bears is also due to the reforestation that occurred, starting in the 1930s, and due to changes in human attitudes toward bears, as well as the remarkable adaptability of black bears. Black bears have adapted well to urbanization, human development and habitat fragmentation,” she said.

Public response

The North Carolina Bear Hunting Association, which formed in 1985, and past hunting clubs have worked with the agency over the decades, including on designating more thousands of acres of black bear sanctuaries, according to a March 2023 letter on its social media page.

In the letter, the organization notes that it has taken issue with how the agency has handled past investigations into illegal poaching, and the fact that the commission has online public hearing because “the anti-community has learned to take advantage of on-line public hearings and meetings.” The online meetings were in response to the COVID-19 pandemic.

During the 2021-22 session, those who are against bear hunting announced their support of a bill to “disapprove a rule of the Wildlife Resources Commission allowing hunting of bears in certain areas previously managed as bear sanctuaries.” The bill had a first reading but didn’t go anywhere after being referred to the house rules committee.

The bill was in response to the commission changing in February 2022 the title of “designated bear sanctuaries” to “bear management areas” and allow permitted bear hunting in three western lands previous off limits.

The commission made the choice to open up a permitted season to stabilize the growing bear population in the western part of the state.

Bear Defenders said on its its website that on Feb. 25, 2022, “Despite the overwhelming public opposition that included 2,744 comments, 86% percent in opposition, and our petition with over 7,600 signatures, the North Carolina Wildlife Resources Commission (NCWRC) voted unanimously to open up the Pisgah, Panthertown-Bonas Defeat, and Standing Indian Bear Sanctuaries to bear hunting and hunting with dogs. In addition, they approved a regulation that changed the term ‘designated bear sanctuary’ to “‘designated bear management area.'”

During a public comment hearing in January 2022, Olfenbuttel said that with a restored and increasing bear population coupled with a diverse and increasing human population and their associated development, “the Commission recognized the need to change from restoration efforts to management efforts to ensure the long-term viability of the bear population as well as assure  and maybe even increase acceptance and support for the restored bear population to do so require developing a statewide Black Bear management plan.”

She added that the bear population had nearly doubled in size between 2005 and 2022, and one reason the commission has not been able to stabilize the bear population is that areas in the mountains where hunting is not permitted are increasing largely due to development.

In Defense of Animals said in a press release at the time that, “Despite public outcry, North Carolina has approved the violent killing of black bears in three of the state’s bear sanctuaries. With few exceptions, black bears have been protected throughout their natural habitats in North Carolina for decades. Thankfully, a new bill has been introduced to stop these shortsighted plans. We must urge North Carolina legislators to support House Bill 1072 to save vulnerable bear populations to agonizing deaths.”

Regulated bear hunting

With the state bear population recovered, Olfenbuttel said the commission’s objective is to stabilize the population so that growth is no more than 0-1%. “Basically, we want to maintain the number of bears we currently have on the landscape, with the bear population neither increasing or decreasing.”

She said that regulated bear hunting is an effective way to keep the bears healthy and reinforce a bear’s natural fear of humans, while allowing the animal to be used, particularly for its meat.

A survey of hunters shows that 99.6% use the bear meat​ they harvest, Olfenbuttel explained. Mostly they feed their household, share the meat or donate it.

“I estimated that the annual regulated bear hunting season provides over 610,000 plates of food for people, which is especially helpful for those North Carolinians that live in food deserts or who are on fixed incomes and have limited financial resources to purchase meat from a store,” she said. Adding that doesn’t account for other ways hunters use a harvested bear, such as rendering the fat, eating the organ meat, and using the bones to make bone broth.

She said that with the commission’s success in recovering the bear population, “we are seeing increased interest from all over North America, and beyond, to hunt bears in North Carolina, partly due to the number of black bears we have, but also due to the size of our bears.”

And bear hunting in eastern North Carolina has definitely grown in the last five or six years.

Luker has led guided hunting tours in the past. “There’s not much to do in Hyde and Tyrrell counties” and he stumbled across the opportunity. Though he enjoys guiding, he said the commission is his priority and “really believes in what the agency does.” In a quick exchange last week, he mentioned that he hasn’t had time to lead any tours this year.

While Luker drove during that recent evening through miles and miles of uninhabited, protected lands, he said that coastal North Carolina wasn’t even on the radar as a destination for black bear hunting until the last five or six years.

Some influential hunters were invited to the area, had a successful trip and put it on social media, and the industry has grown.

There are several outfitters that offer guided hunts on the coast, costing anywhere from $2,000 to $15,000 per person, and in some cases more. The amount depends on the company, length of hunt – usually from one to five days — and what is included in the package like lodging or meals.

Luker said the rates haven’t always been that way, just in the last four or five years, but seem to be leveling out. The guided hunts bring in what he called “high-net-worth” clients who “want to do something that they can’t do anywhere else in the world.” It’s becoming an economic driver.

“They contribute so much money to the local economy here,” he said.

License, e-stamp required

Luker reiterated that the hunter needs a big game license, which can be purchased through Wildlife Resources Commission, and a bear management electronic stamp, or e-stamp.

The license holder is only permitted to take one black bear a season. The bear must be more than 75 pounds and sows, or female bears, with cubs are off limits. The hunter must notify the commission of their take by calling 1-800-I-Got-One.

Bear hunting isn’t like deer hunting, though. “It’s not tricky,” he said. “Bears have a great nose, but they can’t see. Camouflage is not an important aspect of the hunt. You’ve got to wear blaze orange, and you have got to bring a firearm that’s capable of taking the animal clean.”

Luker said that for most hunts offered by an outfitter, the guide usually brings five to 10 hunters to approved land early and gets them ready to hunt by 30 minutes before dawn, when hunting is allowed to begin.

Some outfitters have a processing facility where they can weigh and dress the animal, though sometimes a hunter will remove internal organs on-site before moving the bear to make it lighter.

The hunt must be in a designated bear management area and the hunter must use approved methods only during bear hunting season, which is usually announced about nine months before it starts. Once the guides know the dates, the clients are contacted and told what to expect and what to bring.

“Generally, about every 10 years, our agency will do a bear management plan and make recommendations,” Luker said, but staff use data from year to year to establish the season.

Olfenbuttel is an author of the management plan, the most recent written while she was black bear and furbearer biologist from 2007 to 2024, and in the game and furbearer program.

She said the program works to ensure the long-term viability and sustained harvest of 71 game and furbearer species by providing the best possible scientific information on the status and management of each species and its habitats so that regulations and management are based on objective data and participate in planning and coordination of management directives based on sound science.

“For eastern North Carolina, that means monitoring the bear population using various metrics and surveys, such as harvest rates, age-at-harvest, sex ratio of harvest, number of vehicle-bear collisions, number of human-bear conflicts, as well as conducting bear research,” she said.

The commission is currently estimating the density and population of black bears across the 37 counties making up the Coastal Plain Bear Management Unit, which Olfenbuttel said is the first time the agency had conducted a study of this scale in eastern North Carolina for data to inform future bear management.

“The program uses all the data collected from multiple sources to monitor the status of the bear population and make informed, science-based management recommendations,” Olfenbuttel continued.

Because of regulated hunting, Olfenbuttel said the commission is meeting bear population objectives in eastern North Carolina, but as development increases, people and bears are living more closely together.

“Since bears can easily adapt to living near or in communities and neighborhoods, it will become increasingly common for people to see a bear in their neighborhoods and towns,” she continued. “This is normal, but people can do their part to live responsibly with bears by following the BearWise Basics, which mainly involves securing bird feeders, garbage, and not feeding or approaching bears.”

Note: Coastal Review will not publish Thursday and Friday this week in recognition of the Thanksgiving and Native American Heritage Day holidays, respectively.

Tickets are available for the Outer Banks Environmental Film Festival set for Nov. 1-3 at various locations in Dare County.

Organizers say the festival brings the work of passionate filmmakers invited to share their creativity, perspective and environmental awareness.

Screenings and events are planned for Dare Arts, 300 Queen Elizabeth Ave., Manteo, on Friday, Nov. 1, and the College of the Albemarle, Saturday, Nov. 2. There will also be an opening reception at 6 p.m. Nov. 1 on the rooftop deck at the Pearl Hotel, 100 Old Tom Ave. in Manteo.

The festival is presented by the Peace Garden Project, a nonprofit that seeks to address food insecurity as defined by the U.S. Department of Agriculture as inadequate access to sufficient, affordable and nutritious food. The gardening and food justice initiative based in Manteo also works to educate people about the importance of caring for the environment.

“Our mission is to increase the accessibility of fresh food in local communities, while engaging the social and economic barriers that often prevent people from getting the food they need,” according to the Peace Garden Project’s website.

A schedule of events with run times and locations is available on the website.

Whether you’re a fig aficionado or the only contact you’ve ever had with figs is spotting a package of Fig Newtons on the cookie aisle, figs are amazing!

Technically not fruit, figs are actually an inverted flower.

While there are only two figs native to the United States — the strangler fig (Ficus aurea) and shortleaf fig (Ficus citrifolia), both mostly found in Florida — there are literally hundreds of varieties of common figs (Ficus carica). Both plants and figs come in multiple sizes.

Most originally associated with the Mediterranean, as well as western and southern Asia, and having been cultivated since ancient times, figs have since spread throughout the world.

Much easier to grow in our area than say, apples or peaches, figs abound. Because they are uniquely portable and they love our climate, figs do well here.

Brought here across the ocean by the early settlers, uniquely portable in that no live plant is needed, especially on small ships — have you ever seen the replicas of the Nina or the Pinta in Beaufort? They look more like sketchy dinghies you wouldn’t dare go out of Taylors Creek in, much less brave crossing the Atlantic. Especially if, as most passengers were, one was required to remain below decks! Those people were tough and determined to make better lives for themselves in the New World.

Part of that better life included bringing starts from the Old World and hoping they’d take root and thrive here. The only thing needed to get a fig going is a cutting. A stick. One that doesn’t even have to have roots or soil.

So, on our theoretical journey in the hold of a ship that could qualify for ship-in-a-bottle status, there would be no need to waste precious water on keeping a plant alive. Besides, plants have to have sunlight, also in short supply when you’re stuck in the hold.

Once the travelers reached land, all they had to do was pick a place to stob their stick and keep it watered. Planted in the right spot, figs can grow fast, and they can get big.

There are numerous named varieties of figs, such as brown turkey, Celeste, Chicago, black mission. Partly because figs are so easy to propagate, most of the time we are uncertain just which variety we have access to, especially around here, although brown turkey is widespread, as is Celeste.

Confounding the identification, cuttings tend to be named for who or where they came from. Thus we end up with Grandpa Joe’s fig, or Aunt Thelma’s fig, or Davis Island fig, or any of a million other colloquial names. Not that a name matters too much as long as you’re not set on a particular variety and it’s a tasty fig.

Ocracoke seems to have a good handle on fig varieties, as evidenced by their annual Fig Festival the first weekend of August. Some of those varieties have been on the island for hundreds of years. They sell items made with figs — jams, jellies, preserves, cakes — and rooted cuttings.

Figs like limey soil, full sun, and a lot of water. Not standing water, just a lot of water. They do well on the beach because of the shell content, and you may have seen older folks pile oyster shells around the base of their figs. Not only did the shells provide calcium — lime can be made out of burnt oyster shells — the figs derived nutrients from the bits of oyster and seaweed clinging to the shells. Bonus, it kept the weeds down.

Because they come from cuttings, figs are clones of the mother plant. The fig you get from a cutting will be exactly the type of fig the cutting came from. Since the cuttings don’t know they aren’t still part of the mother plant, they often bear the first year. Maybe not much, but a few. Figs can be started from seed, but that’s a whole process and you might not get a plant with an edible fig, depending on how the seed got pollinated.

Some figs are parthenocarpic, which means they don’t need to be pollinated, and it also means you only need one plant to ensure a good crop. Some figs are pollinated by tiny wasps.

Most of us can readily recognize fig plants when we see them. Did you know figs are in the same family (Moraceae) as mulberries? If you look closer, you’ll notice fig leaves aren’t all the same shape. Just like mulberries, fig leaves can be any of several different shapes.

Figs are pretty much done for this year. The leaves will drop soon and the plants will go dormant, but for now the leaves still smell delicious. Some people swear by them for making tea as a panacea for a whole host of ailments. Fig leaves have been used as such for thousands of years.

Cuttings can technically be taken any time of year, but … not only are the leaves prickly and scratchy like okra, leaves and stems produce a sticky, milky white sap full of furocoumarins that can be a skin irritant, especially when exposed to sunlight. In extremely sensitive people, contact can cause severe burns. On the other hand, the sap can also be used in medicines. Crazy, huh?

Wait until about December, when the leaves have dropped and the sap has retreated. Taking a cutting is as simple as … taking a cutting. The ones that seem to do the best are the straight branches, about the size of your index finger or a little larger diameter. You can do tip-end cuttings only, or you can cut a long branch and section it off in about 4-inch pieces. Stick more than you want because only about 85% of them will root. Any sort of good potting soil can be used, and large pots can hold multiple cuttings. Push them into the dirt enough to make them stand up. Pushing them all the way to the bottom will prohibit roots from forming. Keep them watered. Once they leaf out, usually in a couple months, they’ve generally rooted and can be moved to their own pots.

While most people think spring is the best time to plant a garden, we in the South are blessed to have two planting seasons, and the fall planting season is upon us.

The temperature may still be well into the miserable range, but signs of fall are all around.

Resembling tiny brown paper bags tied at the top, egg sacs from Argiope aurantia — the golden orb-weaver spider, aka zipper spider, or writing spider — are tucked here and there. The spiders have already finished their life’s work, leaving no messages behind, only their tattered webs, slowly disintegrating, and hopefully next year’s progeny.

Pieris rapae, those pesky whitish-yellow, zig-zaggy butterflies are everywhere, laying eggs on our cole crops, eggs that then turn into hungry, hungry caterpillars. Unlike the slow, swoopy swallowtails and monarchs we dote on, the sulphurs, or Phoebis sennae, and white cabbage moths seem to avoid being hit by cars like they’re magically allergic to metal.

Muscadines are ripening, filling the air with their heady scent, and sweet autumn clematis is blooming, festooning and perfuming hedgerows with lacy shawls.

Persimmons are filling out and getting ready to change colors, although it rarely gets cold enough here to ripen them before the raccoons and deer and other critters eat them all. Trust me … If you think dark green, unfrosted collards are bitter, they have nothing on unripe persimmons. They will turn your mouth inside-out like wet cardboard soaked in alum.

Gardening here is challenging enough with our sandy soil, deficient in nutrients, although weeds grow like … weeds. On steroids. Add in salt-laden, extremely windy air, excessive heat and humidity, abundant insects and diseases, and it’s a recipe for a first-class ticket on the struggle-bus.

And yet, those of us who can’t help ourselves keep right on trying.

Fall crops tend to do better with a little less work involved. Once we make it past the heat and into cooler weather, there should be fewer insects, less disease. If we’re really lucky, even fewer weeds to compete with what we actually want to grow.

People used to start planting here around the middle of July. Then it started staying hotter longer. So, they backed off to the middle of August. Now, even that’s still too hot for seedlings that need cool weather to survive and thrive.

Most folks have held off even later, until around the first of September. For about the last 15 years or better, somewhere along the second week in September, we’ve either gotten a 10-inch rain, or a hurricane, or both. So, many gardeners have started waiting later still, until about the middle of September to plant their fall crops.

Remember when we used to get a frost — or at least a nor’easter with its attendant cool spell — about the middle of September? October at the latest? Sure, it would warm back up, but we knew it would soon cool off for at least a couple of months. Now we’re lucky to get our first frost by December, and we rarely get more than a day or two of cold here and there.

So, unavoidable weather woes aside … What can you plant now?

As far as actual seedlings, it is time for collards, cabbage, broccoli, cauliflower and brussels sprouts. Beets and chard are good candidates, too, along with rutabagas and bak choi, lettuce and spinach – although the latter two are even less heat-tolerant, so planting them later won’t hurt anything.

Most fall crops can be planted from seed as well, although if you’re starting from seed, it might be getting a tad late for some of them, such as broccoli and cauliflower. While they need some cool weather, cooler temps also mean the plants don’t grow as fast, so they need to be a certain size before it cools down in order to produce.

Cool-weather crops tend to have smaller seeds, than, say, green beans or cucumbers or other warm-season crops. Because the seeds are so much tinier, it is even more of a struggle to get them to germinate during 90-degree-plus weather. If you haven’t walked barefoot on the beach, you probably don’t realize just how insanely hot sunbaked soil can get! Those tiny seeds contain very little life support, so if they germinate and it’s blisteringly hot, they wither and die, making you assume they never germinated.

Crops that do well from seed include beets, carrots, rutabagas, turnips, and salad greens, such as rape, kale, mustard, spinach and lettuces, even a few late radishes, if you’re so inclined. Maybe even try some snow peas or May peas. If you like spring or green onions, they should be available to plant around mid-September.

If you’re planting winter rye grass, or clover for cover crops or bee forage, plan for mid-September. Most people only think about planting rye when their neighbor’s yard stays green all winter, and clover when they see it blooming in the spring. Rye is a cool-season annual that dies out when it gets too hot. Clover is also a cool-weather crop, needing to germinate in the fall so it can get its roots established before the next summer, when it gets too hot and clover either dies or goes dormant.

As far as diseases and insects, wet weather and dry weather each bring their own challenges.

Too much rain and you get root rot and funguses.

Too much dry weather and you get stunted plants and sometimes spider mites and grasshoppers. Those huge green grasshoppers have been lurking all summer, just waiting for you to provide them with their last meal.

Then there are aphids, those under-leaf pests that are like plant leeches and just love tender new growth; scorch bugs; stink bugs; cabbage loopers.

All of the above are well aware of the fall push and are trying to get the last word so they can return next year and make you miserable again.

On the other hand, all of those are prime fodder for birds, spiders, wasps, lizards and skinks.

Despite all the deterrents, gardening is still a pleasure for many of us, and nothing beats the taste of homegrown produce!

All the tears shed when El’s Drive-In closed for summer could cut a new inlet through Carteret County.

The owners promised that the beloved Morehead City landmark would return this fall after renovations. They also opened an outpost in up the coast in Smyrna. Nonetheless, a hole remains in the hearts of locals who still remember when El Franks opened this go-to for the famous N.C. shrimp burger in 1959.

El’s is one of those local-favorite seafood restaurants along North Carolina’s coast that don’t just serve tasty food. They bring a sense of joy and connection that keep regulars coming back.

Staff are just so nice, and you’re bound to see someone you know. Even if you don’t, folks at the next table or in line behind you will strike up a conversation. Before long, the owner might join in, sharing family stories, cherished recipes passed down through generations and the names of commercial fishers who harvested the fresh catch.

Of course, fried seafood aromas drift from kitchens into homespun dining rooms, more reasons why locals return again and again.

O’Neal’s Sea Harvest

618 Harbor Road, Wanchese 

The L-shaped counter hosts a cashier taking lunch orders on one end and a second ringing up fresh seafood at the other. Fish and shellfish glisten on ice in between while crews cut seafood behind them. Customers filling the zero-frills dining room savor fried black drum, sheepshead, golden tile, whatever’s biting. Daily specials might list scallop po’boys, grilled mahi tacos or blackened shrimp and asiago cheese stuffed inside baked potatoes. If you decline a side dish, expect the cook to change your mind at the pickup window: “Are you sure I can’t make you something?”

Basnight’s Lone Cedar Café

7623 S. Virginia Dare Trail, Nags Head

The all-hands-on-deck Basnight family, including commercial crabber Vicki Basnight, opened the restaurant in 1996 to uplift the region’s seafood industry during a challenging period of high fuel prices and increased imports undercutting the domestic seafood supply. The local catch remains central in dishes like Wanchese clam chowder and seasonal lump crab cakes, as well as on an “Outer Banks Traditions” menu, keeping year-rounders loyal, even during the busy tourist season.

Bay Brothers Seafood

100 Jean St., Plymouth

You could mistake Bay Brothers’ simple, red brick building for an industrial plant instead of seafood central. Locals come for live hard and soft N.C. blue crabs (a soft-shell crab shedding operation occupies the back), lump crab meat and various fish and shellfish. Tables in the middle of the immaculate market are where neighbors tuck into uncomplicated seafood specials like she-crab soup, tuna salad and broiled, Old Bay garlic butter shrimp.

White Point Take-Out

101 Core Sound Loop Road Ext., Atlantic

This itty-bitty gray cottage tucked within a residential neighborhood has a single take-out window serving fried-to-order seafood like shrimp burgers and soft-shell crab sandwiches, with a side of crinkle-cut fries. Eat on picnic tables under twisty, old live oak trees. Hours vary but the owner reports that for summer 2024, the window opens at 11 a.m. and closes by 6 p.m. Monday through Thursday and by 7 p.m. Friday and Saturday.

Wild Will’s Revenge

1015 Morris Marina Road, Atlantic

The hashtag #coresounders and family commercial fishing photos on Wild Will’s Instagram tell you it’s worth the drive to far-flung Atlantic. Grandchildren of esteemed community and fishing industry leader, the late Billy Smith, have Down East roots dating to the 1700s. They named the restaurant for their late father, William Ellis Smith, who ran the original Wild Will’s 20 years ago in nearby Harkers Island. The kitchen serves whatever’s fresh, like jumbo-lump, blue crab cakes. Specials might spotlight heritage recipes such as corned spots in fall and fluffy Down East light rolls. Hours are limited, usually Friday and Saturday starting at 5 p.m.

The Spot Grill

202 Wellons Drive, Beaufort

You’ll leave the pine-paneled dining room wearing the delicious perfume of fried mahi, soft-shell crab, flounder or whatever’s fresh (sometimes conch stew) even if you don’t sit at the counter that’s practically inside the wide-open, galley kitchen. The lingering aroma is a pleasant memory of seafood cooked to order with a side of eavesdrop-worthy conversations about everything relevant in the community. Lunch only and cash only, but there’s an ATM inside.

Blackbeard’s Grill

1644 Live Oak St., Beaufort

The Rose family of commercial fishers operates Blackbeard’s next door to its seafood market. Cross your fingers that the specials menu features North River clams, harvested nearby and smothered in garlic butter, white wine and parmesan. Pray, too, for the Local’s Supper of fresh shrimp and speckled trout with crispy okra and sweet potato casserole and a plate of Harkers Island soft-shell crabs fried according to Aunt Dora’s recipe.

Jordan’s Smokehouse & Seafood

129 Phillips Loop Road, Swansboro

You know the fried sea mullet is fresh when you ask if it’s local and the server replies, “I caught it myself last night.” Arrive early to sit among regulars who don’t mind traveling from the other side of Onslow County for the old-timey oyster bar vibe. Forget being shy. Everyone talks to everyone like they’ve known each other all their lives. In many cases, they have.

Riverview Café

119 Hall Point Road, Sneads Ferry

Sneads Ferry is no longer a tiny fishing village, but it still feels that way at this waterfront restaurant owned by the same family since 1946. Riverview started as an oyster bar behind a store with a single gas pump. All that’s changed but the fresh seafood hasn’t, including shrimp harvested on the family trawler. The whiteboard lists so many specials you have to walk up to read it. Fantail shrimp, bang bang shrimp, peel-and-eats, whole flounder, deviled crab, steamed clams and homemade pie baked from treasured family recipes.

Seaview Crab Co. Kitchen

1515 Marstellar St, Wilmington

Lunchtime is crush time, but moms from the neighborhood, workers in uniform and the guy who just needs a break from his honey-do list wait patiently for orders. They’re quick to share picnic table seats mere steps away from iced-down seafood. Steamed blue crabs and overstuffed fried fish sandwiches are legendary. No matter what you select, expect fellow diners to swoon over your plate. “I almost got that,” they’ll lament. Fortunately, there’s always next time to try and decide between specials like fresh-shucked clam chowder and seared tuna bao buns with gochujang mayo.

WASHINGTON WATERFRONT– A nonprofit environmental education center perched on the Pamlico River is set to undergo a major transformation.

A Partnership for the Sounds facility that focuses on estuaries and coastal rivers, plans are in motion to expand the North Carolina Estuarium’s reach through a new Seafood School.

“The Seafood School is designed to educate and entertain visitors of all ages. There is a deep heritage in eastern North Carolina of both enjoying and providing seafood, and we will work with everyone who wants to share in that,” Estuarium Director Tom Stroud explained to Coastal Review.

The Seafood School is to feature new exhibits highlighting the estuary’s role as a nursery for marine life and will have an educational kitchen where programs for the public on cooking and preparation of key species can take place.

“Our goal is to use seafood — or ‘soundfood’ — to create a full circle of appreciation for healthy estuaries,” Stroud said in a release. “For many people the closest connection they have with estuaries is eating things that come from them – oysters, blue crabs, shrimp, fish. That’s great, but there is a through-line between enjoying a fried oyster and the condition of the ecosystem it came from. The Seafood School will link the health of the estuary, the effort it takes for harvest, and the process of creating a great seafood meal in a single space.”

Currently, the 12,500 square-foot center features more than 200 exhibits that describe estuaries and coastal rivers, including aquariums with crabs and other estuarine life, art, interactive displays, artifacts from life on the Pamlico River, explorations of hurricanes and sea level rise, Pamlico River boat tours, and special programs on natural and cultural heritage, according to its website.

Stroud said in an interview that the renovation is “significant” and “will fully transform our existing classroom space, update current exhibitry, and provide incredible access to the Pamlico River as well.”

Preliminary work on the buildout will begin by June, and the Seafood School is expected to be in operation by early 2025.

The space where the Seafood School will be located is not in the main part of the exhibit hall, “so we’re hoping the renovations will have a minimal impact on our regular operation,” Stroud said, adding he believes programming will increase.

The Seafood School was inspired by the state’s efforts to restore oyster habitats because of the ecosystem benefits and the economic boost to coastal communities, and folds in other key fisheries to expand the view of why estuaries need to be sustained and protected, the announcement states.

The Estuarium evolved from the Albemarle-Pamlico Estuarine Study in the early 1990s, and since then, the goal has been to promote awareness and stewardship of the Albemarle-Pamlico, and that won’t change, Stroud said in the announcement. “But it’s time to engage new generations in new ways. We feel like the Seafood School is an approach that will elevate our message and make us uniquely identifiable among science education facilities.” 

Stroud expounded in the interview that the Seafood School will have two main learning attractions: the educational exhibits and a Cooking Classroom.

The classroom, or kitchen, will be the most noticeable new piece, Stroud said, and will allow for all types of cooking programs including steaming, baking, frying for groups of up to 16 people. The space also is going to be available as a rental venue for groups of 20 to 30 people “who want to socialize in a beautiful spot right on the Pamlico River,” he said.

“We envision having noted local chefs — and hopefully some from farther away — lead programs on how to prepare all types of seafood caught in North Carolina’s estuaries,” Stroud said.

Next to the kitchen will be exhibits that highlight the water quality needs of these species, and look at how different seafoods are harvested in state waters, especially from sustainable methods.

“The exhibit piece will look like a classic waterfront seafood shop along an estuarine shoreline in eastern N.C.,” Stroud said.

A planning grant from Nutrien, the Canadian fertilizer company in Saskatchewan, helped fund the Seafood School’s planning.

“We approached Nutrien with the basic concept in fall of 2022,” Stroud said. The funding allowed the creative consultant, Harbor Peoples, to work for about six months with chefs, watermen, building inspectors, exhibit designers, kitchen suppliers and an architect on design concepts and flesh out a definitive plan before going for bigger funding.

“We started with the idea that the exhibit and kitchen would focus specifically on oysters, but as we met with people and thought it through, we felt the story would be stronger if we expanded to include other key species from the estuary to tell a broader story of the ecosystem, which is indeed the mission of the Estuarium,” Stroud said.

The Estuarium was awarded a $250,000 grant in this year’s budget that will cover about half of the estimated cost.

In the release, Stroud expressed the center’s gratitude to Nutrien for their support on the planning grant and to Rep. Keith Kidwell, R-Beaufort, and also representing Dare, Hyde and Pamlico counties, for help with the state grant, “but we’ll need additional funding to fully achieve our goals. We look forward to sharing our vision with donors so they can have an opportunity to be part of the Estuarium’s programming evolution and show their support for keeping the Albemarle-Pamlico estuary healthy.”

Kidwell, of Chocowinity, told Coastal Review on Wednesday that he supports the Seafood School because the fishing industry is a large driver of the economy in Eastern North Carolina.

“For many years, the fishing industry has been in decline. The Seafood School will help to shine a spotlight on the importance of fishing and seafood and relates directly to North Carolina’s efforts to expand oyster fishing and fishing in general. When correctly managed, seafood is an excellent source of sustainable protein,” Kidwell said in an email. “The coastal waters in NC are a natural resource that provides some of the world’s best oysters and fin fish. Let’s do our best to manage and support the fishing industry.”

The plan is to initiate a major fundraising campaign soon, “but anyone interested in supporting us now can contact me at tmstroud@embarqmail.com and I can provide information,” Stroud said.

Whether you’re a beginning gardener or one who’s been growing beautiful flowers and vegetables for years, one thing is clear: The fastest and easiest way to start a garden is by keeping it small.

“Even on a limited budget it is possible to get a garden going quickly,” Barbara W. Ellis writes in her new book “Container & Small-Space Gardening for the South: How to Grow Flowers & Food No Matter Where You Live.”

The author of two dozen gardening books, Ellis is an expert grower based on Maryland’s Eastern Shore. Her latest title is an easy read that covers all of the big questions about container and small-plot gardens in the notoriously hot and humid South: which plants to choose, what pots work best, how much to water, how often to feed, and the right spots for small gardens, container or otherwise.

Ellis also shares gardening advice from her years of real-life experience, including how to be an environmentally friendly gardener. She even digs into seed starting, pest management, garden design and end-of-season tasks.

Best of all, Ellis’ practical instructions, alongside gorgeous photos, move smoothly from chapter to chapter, building confidence and excitement to get out there and grow.

Here are some of Ellis’ top container- and small-space gardening tips.

The easiest way to garden

A container garden is the easiest way to garden, “provided you start with big pots,” Ellis says. Large pots hold water, thereby requiring less watering. “I think beginners start off with small pots, 10 or 12 inches, and they can’t keep up with the watering. One of my first containers, years ago, dried out so quickly that if I watered it in the morning it was nearly dead by the time I got home from work.”

Containers are a smart way to graduate to small-space gardens. “The minute you start planting in the ground, it is more exciting but probably more complicated,” Ellis says. “Large containers make it possible to learn about growing plants, plus how to combine colors and plant forms, plus what kind of care makes them look better and be healthier.”

The dirt on sandy soil

Eastern North Carolina’s dry, acidic, sandy soils present frustrating challenges for growing healthy plants. How can gardeners overcome struggles? “Organic matter, organic matter, organic matter,” Ellis says.

“Sandy soils burn through it more quickly than any other soil type.” Add organic matter every time you dig a hole. Keep soil covered with mulch, even spreading finished compost under mulches like pine needles. Additionally, minimize digging “because that increases the rate at which the organic matter gets used up,” Ellis says.

How water should flow

Whenever you water, “water until water comes out of the bottom of the pot or the top few inches of soil are wet. That encourages roots to go down into the soil and not crowd around the surface, which makes them more susceptible to drought,” Ellis says.

Carefully select locations. “A pot or garden that receives sun in the morning and shade in the afternoon will need watering less often than one that receives shade in the morning and sun in the afternoon.”

Keep an eye on plants to understand their moisture needs. “I have learned to look at the leaves of plants to figure out when they need watering. The shape changes as they begin to wilt, and the color also changes.”

Resisting temptation at the plant store

“Container & Small-Space Gardening for the South” stresses the value of balancing your gardening dreams against location reality, right down to calculating how many plants you need to save time, money and effort.

Useful lists help you select easy plants for sun and shade. Still, how can you control wishful thinking while being color-bombed at the garden store on the perfect spring day?

“I use a hard-and-fast personal gardening rule, ‘Be attractive or die.’ That keeps me from bringing home plants I know won’t do well. If I have killed something three times, that’s it,” Ellis says. “This approach also made me get excited about looking for plants that thrive where I garden.”

Ellis advises visiting local public and private gardens and native plant organizations to learn what plants work best for your area.

What full sun really means down south

Ellis’ book is full of guidance you might not think about, like how to assess sun and shade patterns. Garden stores may label plants as “full sun,” meaning they need six to eight hours of direct sunlight a day, but Ellis notes that they don’t necessarily need that sunlight all at once.

“While most food crops prefer full sun, some — tomatoes, for example — will produce fruit in part shade in southern gardens,” she writes. Always remember that many plants markets might recommend for sunny areas refer to northern gardens, Ellis adds. Those plants will need more shade and often more watering in the south.

Saving money and the environment

Plastic wastes like soil bags and plant containers harm the environment. Ellis composts all potting soil for reuse, being careful not to add diseased plant parts or seed and plant parts from invasive species. “Most years, I also just replace about the top third of the potting medium in a pot.”

She donates surplus soil to fellow gardeners. Ellis uses some of her extra soil to pot plants she divides and then donates to a local garden club’s annual plant sale. She recycles and refurbishes planting containers, too. Even terra cotta pots are repairable, Ellis writes.

Traffic rounds the Wilmington Interstate 40 Bypass like a NASCAR final lap but not fast enough to outrun the fish stock start time. I ignore my constantly dinging phone. For sure, it’s Trey Herring texting as I rally toward the backyard where a 10-gallon soup pot waits on me.

As I peak 85 mph, my phone rings, and I pull over. “How long? Are you close? We need to get moving.” Trey speaks hyper-impatiently, like someone is tapping a Timex over his shoulder.

That someone is Herring’s close friend, Capt. Steve Jolley, a seasoned angler and cook from Washington, N.C., who Herring told me weeks before is “true to the ways.”

“When I cook with him, I feel like I’m cooking with my grandparents,” Herring had said.

Today, the men are preparing a sacred Eastern North Carolina dish: fish stew, better known to the unenlightened as “that soup with the eggs on top.” Fresh fish mingles with a holy trinity of potatoes, onions and bacon. Tomatoes plus each cook’s secret spice blend, often just salt and black pepper, season the basics. During the final minutes of cooking, eggs are cracked over the steaming stew.

For an outsider like me, being invited to “a fish stew,” which describes both dish and event, is a sign of acceptance in communities that keep the ritual. Showing up late is akin to stumbling into church halfway through the sermon. So, I arrive ashamed to see Jolley has already lowered the frame of a mighty red drum into the pot.

Fish stew requires a precise, step-by-step process stalled for no one.

I take my licking in the form of a Capt. Jolley silent treatment. Herring, a Goldsboro native blessed with a grandma who made him fish stew on demand, tempers my guilt.

“The stock is the most important part,” he explains. “It has to simmer for the right amount of time to impart a deep flavor rather than a watery foundation.”

Jolley adjusts the gas cooker’s fire and scurries inside to the kitchen. With the stock finally underway, he unwinds, and, alongside Herring, settles into a rhythm of chopping other ingredients.

Born to parents from Hyde and Beaufort counties, Jolley tells me that he hails from a long line of fish stew makers. Any occasion could be a reason for fish stew. Chilly spring nights, card games, birthdays. Jolley’s recipe is “just a mix of watching people cook stew.”

“I try to keep a stew like it’s always been done.”

In the beginning

People have been simmering fish stews over open fires for centuries. Scientists discovered well-preserved traces of marine fish and shellfish fats in 15,000-year-old Japanese cooking pottery.

Many countries boast signature fish stews that began as fishermen cobbling together a meal at the end of their workdays or families making the most of what they had: saffron-laced French bouillabaisse; hot and sour Thai tom yum; coriander-laced Portuguese caldeirada; and spicy Malay fish head curry, to name a few.

Early English settlers often get credit for inspiring Eastern North Carolina’s fish stew, but diverse hands contributed to the pot.

“I want to know who put the tomato soup in it,” seafood chef Ricky Moore says.

At his acclaimed Saltbox Seafood Joint in Durham, Moore celebrates African American influences that shaped the coastal N.C. cooking he grew up with in New Bern. Moore has seen assorted fish stews: potatoes and no potatoes, tomatoes and no tomatoes, smoked turkey necks instead of salted pork and the cornmeal dumplings that Moore himself adds to fish stew.

North Carolina’s seafood chowders and stews are customarily simple — just onions, potatoes and seafood, maybe bacon, although some think the pork overrides the seafood’s flavor. Tomatoes did not take hold in America until the early 1800s. By then, the Spanish, Italians, Portuguese and French were all putting tomatoes in their fish stews. Moore suspects N.C. cooks who followed suit with fresh or home-canned tomatoes found a shortcut in commercially canned tomato soup first sold in 1897.

Fish stew modifications have also combined taste, creativity and ego, especially at church socials, the center of community life and the place where people showed off their cooking skills in North Carolina’s once-isolated coastal plain.

“Different churches would have fish stews,” Herring recalls from his childhood. “They do barbecue, they do chicken and they do fish stew. That was kind of the three seasons of the church fundraiser.”

The most blatant adjustments happen at the Shad Festival Fish Stew Cook-off, where cooks battle every February in Grifton.

“I got one guy that cooks it, and he puts a lot of sausages in it. And saltwater mussels. He must put $150 worth of stuff in it … It almost wasn’t fish stew,” cook-off organizer Tommy Sugg says. “I tasted it. I liked it,” but share that opinion with aficionados of the traditional stew and “you could be tarred and feathered,” Sugg adds, laughing. “These people are pretty serious about it.”

Variations didn’t surprise Sharon Peele Kennedy, who chronicled historic N.C. seafood recipes and created new ones for her cookbook “What’s for Supper with Sharon Peele Kennedy.” Tinkering dates way back, before supermarkets and gourmet stores.

“They used what they had. Potatoes, peppers, onions. What grew in the garden,” Peele Kennedy told me at her Hatteras home before she passed away in January 2024. Eggs from the henhouse added extra protein to nourish hard-working families when fish harvests were slim.

The cardinal sin

Both native North Carolinians and newcomers to the state brag about attending fish stews. The unanointed dream of landing in a backyard like Jolley’s to see if eggs really do float on top and witness a coastal N.C. tradition disappearing as quickly as undeveloped waterfront property.

No matter which recipe lucky attendees may encounter, they’ll witness one steadfast conviction: Nobody stirs the pot.

“Really, the hardest I’ve ever seen a man get hit was when he walked up to a pot of fish stew and stirred it. And he got knocked right off his feet,” Jolley says.

Eastern North Carolina fish stew harmonizes fish and potato chunks as large or slightly larger than a soup spoon. If whole fish are used, they must retain enough shape so that diners can easily pick the bones. Cooks layer ingredients in a heavy stock pot set over a low flame, a combination that ensures nothing at the bottom of the pot burns. Stirring crumbles components, consequently ruining the stew’s integrity.

I ease away from the cooker as Jolley and Herring begin building their stew, enough for 20 people. They use 8 pounds of drum, 5 pounds of white potatoes, 3 pounds of sliced onions, 1 pound of diced bacon, 2 quarts of home-canned tomatoes and that essential fish stock.

To make the stock, Jolley poached the drum’s boney frame with bay leaves in about two gallons of water for nearly two hours. He renders diced fatback in another huge kettle.

Next, he and Herring lay sliced onions over the fatback, then potatoes, fish and tomatoes. They repeat the process before Herring scatters sliced potato rounds all over the top to “seal everything down.” Jolley pours in the steaming-hot fish stock to cover everything by a few inches.

The seasonings? “That’s a secret,” Jolley says, although both men agree salt, pepper and red pepper flakes are essential.

The stew cooks covered for about two hours. A smaller batch might take one hour, Herring says. “The longer you let it simmer, the better off it’s going to taste. It doesn’t over cook because you’re not letting it sit there and boil. Barely bubbling,” Herring emphasizes. “Then you drop a few eggs and it’s time to eat.”

How many eggs? “At least a dozen,” Herring advises, then corrects himself. “At least two dozen, depending on the size of the fish stew, because, I mean, the egg’s the prize of the fish stew.”

Jolley likes yolks on the soft side, but he says yolks are usually cooked through. “Because a lot of times, it’s kind of one of those things where it is ready, but everyone is still kind of shooting the shit, taking some shots of liquor until someone says, ‘Oh yeah, let’s eat.’”

Herring passes around a bottle of bourbon. Before long, fish stew opining and storytelling begins. Guests debate if fish heads make better stock. They recall old-timers who shunned filets for fish on the bone. Remember that guy who agreed to bring the fish and then showed up with six cans of salmon? Eyes roll. Oh, and those housemates who kept freshwater bowfin alive in the bathtub until it was time to use one for fish stew.

Moment of enlightenment

Banter quiets when Jolley starts setting up a buffet. Cornbread, obligatory with fish stew, is hush puppies Jolley fried in a cast-iron skillet passed down from his grandmother to his mother and then to him. Creamy, old-fashioned slaw fades green to white, nary a fleck of fancy purple cabbage or orange carrot. Sweet iced tea fills tall Ball jars. Lemon pie’s lightly toasted meringue peaks so correctly that Jolley’s ancestors are surely singing praises from on high.

Finally, he dips a wooden ladle into the stew’s layers, releasing heavenly aromas. As each guest steps up to the pot, Jolley asks “Would you like eggs?”

“Pardon?” one man replies.

“Would you like eggs?”

“Um, Sure.”

Herring chuckles. “That was a test,” he tells the hesitant gentleman. “If you would have said no, we would have kicked you out.”

Soon, mms and mm-hmms join a chorus of cardinals in the trees. “And the great thing is it’s better the next day,” Herring says, adding only half-jokingly that the only thing he would have done differently is add more eggs.

Jolley smiles. “I’m sure it would be good if you put a bunch of ginger and turmeric in it, sort of drift from the traditional flavor, but at the end of the day…” Everyone gets his point.

While pie is served, Wilmington-based Folkstone String Band fires up its picks, bows and upright bass. Guests listen to old bluegrass songs in the contented silence of their own memories.

Like oyster roasts and shrimp boils, fish stew is “an art form passed down,” Herring says. “This is the only way you can continue to experience it and hopefully get somebody else that’s interested and wants to learn about it to do it. If you don’t, it dies.”

Lifelong Ocracoke resident Alton Ballance can trace ancestors on both sides of his family back to the barrier island’s first settlers, he writes in the preface of his 255-page book, “Ocracokers.”

The book that is about “Ocracoke and Ocracokers, past and present, and how both have adapted to the changes that have taken place within the last few years” was published in 1989 by UNC Press.

His parents both grew up on Ocracoke, with roots going back generations to the 1700s. “We were related to so many people,” he told Coastal Review recently.

His late father, Lawrence, worked for the U.S. Army Corps of Engineers and his mother Vera, was “an Island girl” who was born in 1918 in the house where Alton Ballance lives today. “And she lived over 77 years there and died there,” he explained.

Ballance said that he remembers his childhood fondly “because of the connection to the outdoors, the families and the voices, the stories, the humor.”

Growing up in the 1960s and ’70s in the island village “was a time when you had immediate contact with people like grandparents, who had themselves grown up in the age of sail and in homes without running water or electricity and they depended on sailing across the sound to trade or go to Carteret County” to shop or get medical care.

Ballance will be taking the same Pamlico Sound route his ancestors likely took to Carteret County on Friday, Feb. 23, when he visits Harkers Island — one of the 13 unincorporated, tight-knit communities north of Beaufort referred to as Down East. He’ll be the guest speaker for the winter Taste of Core Sound.

The annual fundraising dinner at the Core Sound Waterfowl Museum and Heritage Center includes a family-style feast and two auctions. Located at the end of Island Road, the center is next to the Cape Lookout National Seashore visitor center.

Previously a teacher at Ocracoke’s K-12 school and staff at North Carolina Center for the Advancement of Teaching on the island, Ballance has owned The Crews Inn on Back Road since 1989, served on Hyde County Board of Commissioners from 1984 to 1992 and was on the state’s Coastal Resources Commission, which establishes rules for coastal development, from 1996 to 2002. He has two daughters, Emma Reese, 11, who lives with her mother in High Point, and Vera, 23, who lives in Brooklyn, New York.

Ballance explained that the book is in three parts. The first is the history of Ocracoke through World War II, including the island’s geological formation. The second part focuses on the Ocracokers themselves, those who represent the island when he was growing up, and finally, what “launched us into where we are today,” including the National Park Service, tourism, and school.

He acknowledges in the preface that some of the people in the book have died or don’t do what they used to since he started writing the book in the late 1970s, but “this difference doesn’t bother me too much because the book really is about the past, about the people and events who have made Ocracoke what it is today. For all that might happen to the island in time to come, it will always have its past – a past full of rich history, some of it alive today.”

Ballance began working on the book in the late 1970s and it took to the late 1980s, to get it done. “It took me a while.”

The book went through through several revisions as it was transferred from handwritten pages, to manual typewriter, to electronic typewriter and finally, a computer.

The idea for the book happened shortly after Ballance graduated from high school.

He attended University of North Carolina Asheville for a few years — hitchhiking across the state the day before Thanksgiving one year to surprise his family — before transferring to UNC Chapel Hill.

At Chapel Hill, he discovered the library’s North Carolina collection and became interested in trying to record the stories of Ocracoke’s past and its people, which eventually became the core of “Ocracokers,” he explained.

He did much of the work after graduating from UNC and going back to Ocracoke around 1980. “I spent a year fishing with these old guys that I portray in the book,” he said, and writing, interviewing and keeping journal.

He said he took his first teaching job in Hillsborough after that year but moved back home to teach at Ocracoke School. He taught at the kindergarten through 12th grade school from 1982 to 2003. He also worked on his master’s through Middlebury College in Vermont, where he could take summer classes.

He became interested in village politics because of the Anchorage Inn being built on Ocracoke at the time and decided to run as the village’s representative for the Hyde County Board of Commissioners. This was in 1984.

He described the Anchorage Inn as a “brick building, like a roadside interstate hotel that had been jammed on a residential lot,” adding it was “Only 3 or 4 feet from the highway” and at some point, a ladder had to be on the highway to finish the project.

“So, I was interested in introducing the island’s first development ordinance. I wrote it myself in 1985 and so what got introduced was height limit, and setbacks and parking and things like that,” he said.

Before that, there were no development rules. “That wasn’t easy. To go from nothing to something, and most people, I think, were supportive,” he said.

While teaching, he heard about the program, North Carolina Center for the Advancement of Teaching, or NCCAT, where teachers could take seminars in Cullowhee. He made his way there in the mid-1990s and the director at the time approached him about expanding the program to Ocracoke.

The first program they developed on the island was held in 1995 and took place a few times a year. Then one day, Ballance said they were heading over to historic Portsmouth Village, now protected as part of Cape Lookout National Seashore, and were discussing how the Coast Guard was downsizing and leaving Ocracoke. As well as its World War II-era station on the shore of Silver Lake empty.

“We had a dream to make the old station an eastern campus for NCCAT, he said.

“It took an act of Congress — literally and figuratively — for them to give the building to the state (for NCCAT) and we came very close in the late 90s to getting it,” he said, “But then Hurricane Floyd and a few other things put the brakes on the funding.”

When the effort reignited in 2003, he stepped away from teaching and began working to get NCCAT eastern campus to Ocracoke, which he succeeded in doing and it is still in operation today.

Though not offered anymore, one of the most popular seminars was called “Salty Dogs.” Groups of teachers would spend the day on commercial fishing boats. They would clean what they helped catch and then cook the seafood in Ballance’s backyard.

The teachers after that experience “would never look at seafood the same way again because of the complexities,” from having to be your own lawyer and accountant to having to take the risks. “I’ve seen my two nephews, who are commercial fishermen, you know, they make zero one day because they lost gear, and the next day make $10,000, so you’ve got to be really in tune to a lot change.”

Ballance led seminars at NCCAT until 2018, when he decided to spend more time at The Crews Inn.

“I’ve spent my time renovating. I’m kind of a do-it-yourself person, so after Hurricane Dorian (in 2019) I had rebuilt whole first floor of the inn, and my house, and The Crews Inn cottage,” he said.

Ballance told Coastal Review that he feels like Ocracoke and Down East are both kind of “at the end of the road,” the center’s slogan, and are “kindred spirits” for their coastal connection and concerns with when storms come along.

“You have to learn to be resilient if you’re going to keep living there. You’ve got to get used to pushing sand around, you’ve got to get used to being flooded, you’ve got to get used to having your roof blown off, trees down, and your backyards growing wetter,” he said. “We’ve got some of the same sort of concerns.”

About Taste of Core Sound

Taste of Core Sound begins at 6 p.m. Feb. 23 with a reception that includes oysters on the half shell.

The dinner, served at 7 p.m., is to include “Hancock Salad” with homemade poppy seed dressing, venison bites, stewed conchs, assorted fruits and cheese, oyster dressing, shrimp and grits, scallop fritters, redhead ducks and rutabagas, Ocracoke pork tenderloin, winter collards, sweet potato pudding, squash casserole and light rolls. For dessert, culinary students at East Carteret and West Carteret high schools are baking Down East fig cakes.

Ballance, who is slated to start his talk around 8 p.m. after dinner is served, will also be on hand to sign copies of his book throughout the event.

Visitors will have a chance to bid on decoys, collectibles and waterfowl art during live and silent auctions.

Davis Springle carved this year’s contemporary decoy for the live auction.

He said that both of his grandfathers started taking carving classes at the community college after retiring “so when I was growing up I was always helping them sand a decoy head or painting ‘abstract’ decoys,” he said.

He began carving decoys while in college, after joining his grandfather, Clinton Barnes, at the Core Sound Decoy Carvers Guild and have been carving since. “I usually carve Core Sound style decoys but will occasionally carve and paint a more decorative bird. I enjoy carving wood ducks the most but have carved most of the birds local to our area.”

A vintage decoy will also be auctioned.

Tickets are $100 per member or $125 each for nonmembers, and that includes an annual membership. There’s also the option to reserve a table with seating for 10 for $1,000. Call the museum at 252-725-1500 or visit www.coresound.com/wintertaste or at the giftshop in downtown Morehead City.

There are wild cranberries along the highway, U.S. 264, as it passes Stumpy Point in Dare County heading west to Engelhard. 

It is a small patch, according to Bob Glennon, retired Alligator River National Wildlife Refuge planner, and largely inaccessible without hip boots and a guide to find them.

“The cranberries are on the part of the refuge with the deepest muck soil,” he wrote in an email. “The site has very deep organic soil that will not support a person’s weight.”

The cranberries that exist in the pocosin are Vaccinium macrocarpon, the same botanical name given to the cranberry that has become a part of Thanksgiving and holiday traditions. They’re smaller than their cultivar cousins, but it’s the same cranberry. 

The first European settlers did not mention cranberries, but Glennon is confident the plants were there.

“Because they are present where there is very deep organic soil, I would guess that they have been there for centuries, just as other plant communities in extreme environmental conditions … have existed for centuries,” he wrote.

What may be one of the most remarkable features of where the cranberries are found is that the area does not seem to have changed much at all.

“Stumpy Pointers on Excursion” the headline reads in the Nov. 13, 1914, Elizabeth City Advance. The excursion — a cranberry picking expedition that included crossing open water and hiking through pocosin — is described in detail.

“After a twenty minute row across the lake and a hundreds yard hike through dense woods, the party came to an open savanna which must needs be crossed before the cranberries were reached,” the paper reported.

That description is remarkably similar to how Michael Schafale, North Carolina Natural Heritage Program terrestrial ecologist, got to the site.

“That 1914 description really fits,” he wrote in an email. “Lake Wirth, near Stumpy Point, is on the edge of that low pocosin. I went in that way once, walking around the lake rather than rowing across it.  It is not too far to low pocosin that way, though the ‘hike through dense woods’ and ‘savanna’ is understated.”

It does not appear as though the earliest Colonists left a record of the fruit, but North Carolina newspapers’ reporting on the crop dates back to the 19th century. 

The headline on page two of the Oct. 30, 1883, Elizabeth City Economist simply reads “Cranberries” and tells readers that the Massachusetts cranberry harvest was not very good in 1883 and “that the price will probably be higher than any time in recent years.” 

The observation was followed by advice for Dare County residents.

“We hope it will be appreciated by our friends at East Lake and other cranberry sections of Dare County. The dwellers in Dare County by the side of the wild cranberry ponds have no idea of the mine of wealth around them, and which they can so easily gather,” the paper noted.

Knowledge of the potential wealth of the bogs seemed to come and go. If the East Lake cranberries were well enough known in Elizabeth City in 1883 to note their abundance, by the 1930s they seem to have been forgotten.

A July 1, 1938, Dare County Times full page spread extolling the wonders of Dare County as the first show of the second year of “The Lost Colony” theatrical production neared, seems to indicate the existence of the cranberries has just been discovered.

The article describes the bogs with what may be hyperbole, writing that what exists between Alligator River and Stumpy Point “surprisingly enough, constitute the greatest cranberry bog in America.”

The next paragraph then describes how the cranberries had just been discovered.

“Nobody knew very much about the cranberry bog until they began to excavate a road through the unexplored jungle … that lie between the Croatan (Sound) and Alligator (River).”

That road today is U.S. Highway 264, but according to a History of Stumpy Point published in NCGenWeb Project, that road was created in the 1920s. The NCGenWeb Project is part of the national USGenWeb Project and a volunteer-collected genealogical and historical content repository for each of state’s 100 counties.

“One of the biggest milestones in the history of Stumpy Point was the creation of the roads connecting the town to Engelhard and Manns Harbor. The first was the road to Engelhard in 1926, built for Dare County by the H. C. Lawrence Dredging Company,” Harold Lee Wise, the story’s author wrote.

The cranberries seem to have been a good quality crop. Theodore Meekins, a Dare County resident, entered the cranberries in a statewide horticulture competition in 1908 and took home a bronze medal. In November 1939, according to the Dare County Times, Theodore Meekins “suggested that cranberries be cultivated on the Dare County Mainland.”

What is not clear is the extent of the commercial cultivation of the cranberries.

Alan Weakley, director of the University of North Carolina Herbarium at the North Carolina Botanical Garden, responded in an email that if a commercial harvest did exist, it was probably taking advantage of natural conditions. 

“I’m quite strongly inclined to think this was at most commercial exploitation of a natural local population,” he noted. “Maybe they manipulated the habitat some. But I find it really hard to believe that Dare County folks would have the idea of planting cranberries in pocosin habitats in Dare County, where they actually grow naturally and natively, and acquired plants or seeds and set them out.”

Newspaper accounts would seem to confirm Weakley’s opinion. By 1952, according to a Coastland Times article from Dec. 12 of that year, there was no commercial harvest of cranberries in Dare County.

“There was a time when gathering wild cranberries was a profitable venture for persons living in the bogland of the Dare Coast,” the paper reported.

In that same article, the harvest of the cranberries is then described in detail.

“Thomas Hunter Midgett is one person who still gathers wild cranberries in the same method as his parents and grandparents harvested them from the boglands many years ago,” the article noted. “The wooden scoop he uses is one his grandfather used.”

Charles Brantley “Aycock” Brown (1904-1984) was an Outer Banks resident and journalist.

Coastal Review will not publish Thursday and Friday in observance of the Thanksgiving holiday.

Post has been updated.

Warm your bones at the “end of the road” Dec. 1 during the Core Sound Chow Down chowder and stew competition, a part of the annual Waterfowl Weekend in Down East Carteret County.

In its second year, Chow Down is a newer event for the Waterfowl Weekend, which has been held in early December since 1999 at Core Sound Waterfowl Museum and Heritage Center. The museum is located at the end of Island Road on Harkers Island, one of Down East’s 13 unincorporated communities.

During the celebration of the area’s heritage set for Dec. 1-3, both inside the museum and on its grounds will be crafters, photographers, decoy carvers, and artists, seafood plates for sale, an online auction, decoy competition, live music, and activities for children. A community church service will begin at 8 a.m. Dec. 3, followed by breakfast.

Chow Down sold out last year. So this year, organizers said there will be double the cooks, double the chow, double the Christmas lights, and double the tickets for sale compared to last year, and a musical performance for Ocracoke-based Molasses Creek that night. The group will also perform at 2 p.m. Dec. 2 at the museum.

Down East residents are cooking up more than a dozen different stews and chowders including stewed ducks, shrimp, oysters, Scallops, clam chowder, fish stews, seafood chowders, gumbo and chili. Judging will take place at 5 p.m. by seafood advocates. Winners will be announced at 8 p.m. Dec. 1.

Area bakers have a chance to win the prize for the “Best Sweet Potato Pie Down” by participating in the first “Tater Pie Tasting,” a new element of the Chow Down event. Winners will be announced at 8 p.m. as well.

Tickets, $35 for members and $45 for nonmembers, come with a choice of four bowls of chowder or stew, homemade cornbread, dessert and a drink. A cash bar for beer and wine will be available near the Jean Dale. Tickets are available at the museum and its store at 806 Arendell St., Morehead City, as well as online. Only 400 tickets will be sold. Nonmembers can join the museum and save at the website.

While heading to the museum, visitors will be treated to Christmas light displays from Rush Point to Shell Point and at the museum as part of the island’s decorating contest. Winners will be announced Dec. 1.

On display in the museum is the Gallery of Trees that tell stories of places like Davis Ridge and Portsmouth, honor commercial fishermen, musicians, Veterans and Active Military and by students at schools Harkers Island and Smyrna schools, Down East Middle and The Bridge Down East.

The Core Sound annual online decoy and waterfowl art auction is open now online at houseacutioncompany.com. All items will be on display starting Dec. 1 at the museum. Bidding closes at 7 p.m. Dec. 2 and pickup begins at 11 a.m. Dec. 3.

The Carolina Decoy Collectors Association will be on hand for an expanded exhibition of “Decoys from Ocracoke” opening Dec. 1. The Association’s 2023 Vintage Decoy Competition will welcome entries 9 a.m. to noon Dec. 2, with judging to begin around I p.m. Categories for the competition include: Core Sound Diver Decoy, Knotts Island Decoy, Ocracoke Duck Decoy, Joe Hayman Decoy, NC Beach Robin Decoy, NC Canvas Decoy and NC Ruddy Duck Decoy. The exhibition and winners will be on display through Dec. 3.

Every year quilters design and make a quilt with a theme, which is “Working Sails, Fishing Nets.” Tickets for this raffle are $5 each or six for $25 and available on the website. Tickets aloo are on sale now for a $5,000 Christmas cash giveaway. The winner will be drawn Dec. 3. tickets are $20 each or six for $100.

Tickets for both raffles can be purchased on the Core Sound website.

Friendship Cake was as close as cooks came to sourdough bread where I grew up in eastern North Carolina. And you were no pal if you shared a jar of the strange starter, a soupy blend of fruit cocktail, more sugar and packaged dry yeast, even though the starter always came with an undeniably tasty cake.

Black-coffee-begging sweet, dotted with jewel-toned fruit and incredibly moist, Friendship Cake hit the marks of a proper Southern dessert. But the recipe had nothing in common with wild yeast starters that cause sourdough bread to rise — except that you felt obligated to use the starter even if you didn’t want to bake a cake. How else could you morally get rid of the stuff? And who did you want to unfriend?

The idea of a live starter growing in a jar on the kitchen counter was just one reason why cooks in my neighborhood shunned sourdough bread. San Franciso, bless its heart, could have those tangy, hard-crusted, sourdough loaves whose chewiness was thanks to high-gluten, hard-wheat flour.

North Carolina’s warm, humid climate nurtures soft wheat milled into lower-gluten flours that produce tender biscuits. Southern Biscuit is an actual flour brand here, and the cooks I knew honored tradition. They served baking-powder- or baking-soda-leavened biscuits at nearly every meal. The only time they pulled out yeast was to make even softer lightening rolls at holiday time.

Over time, sourdough bread found a place in North Carolina. In fact, North Carolina State University, the same school that helps the state’s farmers successfully grow soft wheat, plays an important role in international sourdough research.

The university’s Wild Sourdough Project, launched in 2020, builds on the ongoing collaboration between scientists in the Global Sourdough Project. The research aims to understand preexisting sourdough starters from across the world and identify the microbes living in those starters.

While starters date back 6,000 years, exactly how a small number of wild organisms end up in sourdough starter and leaven bread remains unclear.

Relying on laboratory work and bakers worldwide, who produced and helped assess 500 sourdough starters, researchers have made surprising discoveries and busted some long-held sourdough opinions.

The projects’ results fascinate millions of U.S. home cooks. Their favorite COVID-19 pandemic pastime was baking sourdough. The bread remains one of 2023’s biggest trends, international bakery magazine BBM reports, so the studies also benefit North Carolina’s growing number of artisan bakeries, places like Little Loaf in Wilmington, Union Special in Raleigh, Old World Levain in Asheville and Verdant in Charlotte, all of which produce gorgeous sourdough loaves.

But unlocking the mysteries of wild microbes that help leaven sourdough bread may also help scientists to better understand microbes’ roles in complex ecosystems like oceans and estuaries.

Here’s what sourdough researchers have discovered so far.

Sorry, San Francisco

Wild yeast and beneficial bacteria that produce acids, which flavor sourdough, love San Francisco’s famously foggy climate. Many bakers believed location was the key to good sourdough. “But what we found is that, while there could be tremendous variation between the microbial ecosystems of different sourdoughs, we could not find any single variable that was responsible for much of that variation,” N.C. State assistant professor of applied ecology Erin McKenney said. That means anyone can bake great sourdough anywhere.

McKenney is the lead author of a paper published Oct. 4 in the open-access journal PeerJ.

What else matters

Researchers found different variables like a sourdough starter’s age is, how often it’s fed and where it is stored had small effects that added up to a significant difference in starters and breads. Bakers themselves must control variables to produce the best loaves for their circumstances. “Because sourdough is a living culture, it adapts to whatever conditions we impose on it,” McKenney said. For instance, she stores starter in the fridge to buy extra time between feedings. Countertop starters want to be fed two to three times a day, whereas McKenney has delayed feeding her chilled starter for up to six weeks.

Flour power

The projects’ latest report discusses the significant role flour plays in determining which bacteria thrive in starters. Bakers can influence sourdough bread’s aroma by choosing different flours, each of which foster different communities of bacteria, McKenney said.

Researchers used 10 different flours to create 40 starters, all in the same growing environment. Over 14 days, each flour formed increasingly distinct microbial communities. “Essentially, it appears that different types of bacteria are able to make the most of the nutritional compounds found in different types of flour,” McKenney said. When different bacterial communities thrive on different nutritional inputs, those bacterial communities produce different smells.

“For example, the bacterial community in amaranth sourdough produces an aroma that smells almost exactly like ham,” McKenney said. “I’ve never smelled a sourdough that had such a meaty aroma. Rye produces a fruity aroma; buckwheat has an earthy smell …”

“One surprise was that rye flour fostered a much wider diversity of bacteria than any other type of flour,” McKenney said. “We found more than 30 types of bacteria in the rye starters at maturity. The next highest was buckwheat, which had 22 types of bacteria. All of the other flours had between three and 14.”

More bacteria doesn’t necessarily translate to better aromas. The rye starter smelled sour/vinegary for the entire two weeks. “Days 4-11, we picked up on a lot of pickled okra smells. Days 8-12 we also detected smells of acetone, a compound often associated with fingernail polish remover…; but days 13-14, it smelled more distinctly like sour bread/dough,” McKenney said.

Researchers did not conduct a standardized bread tasting, so they can’t say which flour produces the yummiest sourdough, but McKenney loves sourdough bread made with emmer and einkorn flours. 

Exactly how long it takes starter to kick off

Ten days, McKenney said. “It’s possible that a starter grown in a very cold location might take longer than 10 days to mature. However, we fed the starters once every 24 hours – plenty of time for even cold bacteria to divide enough times to achieve a successional progress.”

A world full of yeast

While 70% of starters contained only one type of yeast, the researchers found 70 distinct types of yeast across all 500 sourdough samples. More work needs to be done to determine if specific microbes are responsible for shaping specific sourdough characteristics.

Sourdough research is bigger than bread

Bread is so ingrained in human existence that we take it for granted. Bake a loaf, buy a loaf, make a sandwich. No big deal. But the Wild Sourdough and Global Sourdough projects could have broad impacts because of the focus on microbes. They’re essential to life on Earth. Microbes make dead things decay, thereby providing nutrients to soil. They can break down industrial sewage. Microbes help clean the ocean of waste. They can also cause harm. Much about microbes remains unknown.

“Sourdough is an excellent model system for studying the interactions between microbes that shape the overall structure of the microbiome,” said Elizabeth Landis, a sourdough project participant and postdoctoral research scientist at Columbia University. “By studying interactions between microbes in the sourdough microbiome that lead to cooperation and competition, we can better understand the interactions that occur between microbes more generally – and in more complex ecosystems.”

Foreign shrimp imports are overwhelming the country’s inventories of shrimp and driving market prices for locally sourced shrimp to record lows, prompting widespread calls from elected officials and organizations throughout southern Atlantic and Gulf Coast states for the federal government to declare a fishery resource disaster.

Governors of coastal states from North Carolina to Florida to Texas are being pressed to ask U.S. Commerce Secretary Gina Raimondo to determine a fishery resource disaster for the South Atlantic and Gulf of Mexico shrimp fishery.

In what one North Carolina coastal county’s board of commissioners refer to as an “unprecedented catastrophic crisis,” shrimpers are struggling to maintain operations because they’re making substantially less for their catch while paying historically high fuel prices and other inflation-driven costs.

Shrimpers are also being forced to dock their freezer boats, or vessels with onboard freezers, because they can’t move their product in a market flooded with frozen shrimp from overseas.

Their recourse is turning largely to selling their catch dockside to local clientele and restaurants and seafood markets that conscientiously serve and sell locally sourced seafood.

Last week, the American Shrimp Processors Association, or ASPA, filed anti-dumping petitions on frozen warmwater shrimp from Ecuador and Indonesia. Dumping is the import of goods below normal value.

The group also filed countervailing duty petitions, or import taxes created to offset an exporting country’s subsidies, on frozen warmwater shrimp from Ecuador, India, Indonesia and Vietnam.

Imports from those countries last year exceeded 1.5 billion pounds — more than 90% of all U.S. shrimp imports — and $6.6 billion, according to the association.

“If successful, the tariffs should help discipline imports and provide a vital lifeline to a domestic industry that is desperately fighting for its survival,” the association said.

In late August, the Southern Shrimp Alliance sent letters to Gov. Roy Cooper and the governors of South Carolina, Georgia, Florida, Alabama, Mississippi, Louisiana and Texas asking them to consider submitting a regionwide request for a fishery resource disaster determination.

Congressman Vicente Gonzalez Jr., D-Texas, took a similar request directly to the Commerce Department Sept. 29, asking Raimondo to initiate a review and fishery resource disaster determination for fisheries on the Gulf.

Under the federally enacted Fishery Resource Disasters Improvement Act of 2022, fishers may be entitled to financial assistance when a disaster is determined, including a change “that results in significant loss of access to the fishery resources … for a substantial period of time and results in significant revenue loss … due to an allowable cause.”

Cooper’s press office did not respond to a request for comment.

The governor is starting to get similar calls to take action from elected officials representing North Carolina’s coastal areas.

The Onslow County Board of Commissioners is among the latest of the state’s coastal counties to join a growing chorus of local elected officials asking the federal government to step in.

A resolution the board unanimously passed during a mid-October meeting states, “The consequences of the inundation of imported shrimp into our markets have caused significant revenue loss and loss of access to the shrimp fishery resource itself, for small family-owned fishing businesses and other supporting businesses.”

Boards of commissioners in Pamlico and Craven counties adopted similar resolutions earlier this fall.

“This is important for the coastal communities in North Carolina to step out and share this because, as the resolution has stated, it is having a major impact on the local shrimpers and fishermen here and the biggest (impact) is by the time they finish loading up the shrimp boats to head out they’re already way behind on what they’re going to make,” Onslow Commissioner Chairman Tim Foster said at the board’s Oct. 16 meeting. “What this is doing is driving down the cost of the shrimp and it is on the verge of eliminating the local businesses in our areas of Sneads Ferry and Swansboro.”

Davis Seafood Inc. in Sneads Ferry has been moving most of its shrimp locally, according to Joseph Davis.

And though the family-owned business has been able to sell what it has brought in locally, Davis Seafood still feels the pinch of low shrimp prices not accounting for high fuel costs.

“It’s a very unlevel playing field that we have to deal with,” he said in a telephone interview. “The overall price does affect us. We did freeze a lot of shrimp this summer when the boats were working in Pamlico Sound. We probably froze more shrimp than usual.”

Davis said he has a brother-in-law who operates a freezer boat, one that probably hasn’t been out to catch shrimp in about two months because of the lack of demand, he said.

NC Catch Board of Directors Chair Dr. Barbara Garrity-Blake said the levels of shrimp imports to the U.S. are “just unprecedented.”

“They’re just off the charts right now,” she said.

“We’ve essentially become a dumping ground for imported shrimp, especially from China. Wholesale prices right now are so low and fuel prices are high so it’s really hard to make the numbers work,” Garrity-Blake continued. “Right now, across the United States, our freezer operations are filled with shrimp because this dumping has been going on so long our local wholesalers can’t even move their shrimp. There are more commercial fishermen that are selling directly to consumers. But, that doesn’t work for everybody. Not everybody’s set up to do that.”

NC Catch works with local Catch programs aimed at educating the public about locally sourced seafood.

The organization promotes the benefits of eating local seafood, touting everything from a difference in taste to the fact that seafood fished from U.S. waters is not pumped full of preservatives needed to survive being shipped from regions thousands of miles away.

“Think about the carbon footprint if nothing else,” Garrity-Blake said. “All that fuel requires getting that seafood from one side of the planet to the other when we have the best product right here, right here in the Pamlico Sound, right here in the Core Sound that was caught last night, fresh, 100% organic, no chemicals.”

Seafood imports do not need to be completely shuttered altogether because, in order to meet national demand, some level of imports is needed, she said.

“What we need to do is strike a balance,” Garrity-Blake said.

She said educating consumers across the country is key to ultimately turning the tide on reducing the amount of shrimp imports coming into the country.

“We believe that the consumers are the sleeping giant and all of those consumers have the power to turn a lot of this around,” Garrity-Blake said. “Our message to consumers is to ask where your seafood comes from and then demand that you get local seafood and eventually restaurants, the markets, are going to have to meet that demand. We like to stress to consumers that their really only access to local seafood is through commercial fishermen, unless they’re fortunate enough to have the means to travel to the coast, to have a boat, to be really good at say, casting a net.”

She said the problem is “of our own making” because the U.S. government has heavily invested in economic projects in developing countries where cheaper labor costs undercut market prices on home soil.

Bradley Styron of Quality Seafood in Cedar Island said fishermen can’t maintain the lifestyle they’re accustomed to “on third-world wages.”

“Around here people are having to do whatever they can to try to make it,” he said. “Fuel is high. Shrimp are cheap. Before the imports came along we didn’t have this problem. It ought to be worth them making some phone calls to their senators and legislators. You don’t have to be a rocket scientist to figure this out. They want a decent product and the only way to have that is through a strong commercial fishing industry.”

BOLIVIA – A private Brunswick County nonprofit agency serving low-income residents announced Friday the opening of its new headquarters with increased food storage capacity, food pantry operations and other services.

As of Monday, Brunswick Family Assistance will move its offices and food pantry from Shallotte to 929 Old Ocean Highway in Bolivia. The new location will operate under the same hours of operation as the Shallotte location, 9 a.m. to 4:30 p.m. Monday-Thursday and 9 a.m. to 3 p.m. Friday.

Officials said the new headquarters in Bolivia will provide a larger and more centralized spot for residents countywide who rely on the agency’s services.

“BFA is grateful for the support of our volunteers, donors, Board of Directors, the Board of County Commissioners, and staff at BFA and Brunswick County for working tirelessly to find an adequate space for the organization to call home for many years to come,” BFA Executive Director Stephanie Bowen said in a statement. “Most importantly, BFA is thankful to finally have efficient space to serve the nearly 40,000 individuals that walk through the doors each year seeking assistance. The clients are always BFA’s number one priority, and this new space is all about serving our community.”

The agency has since 1981 distributed food, clothing, medical prescriptions and financial assistance for essential needs to county residents.

No changes are in effect at agency’s location in Leland. Clients are welcome to receive assistance at the Leland location until the new headquarters in Bolivia is opened.

BFA’s previous headquarters in Shallotte occupied three units at Twin Creek Plaza totaling 7,000 square feet. The organization said more space was needed.

The new space was purchased by the county in October 2022 and totals 14,000 square feet with adequate warehouse space.

“Brunswick Family Assistance has provided essential and critical services to our residents with diligence and compassion for over 40 years,” Brunswick County Chairman Randy Thompson said in the statement. “We are pleased that our long-time partnership with BFA and this new facility space will strengthen their ability to aid our community while exploring more opportunities to expand programs and services.”

Under the lease agreement, Brunswick County is responsible for building envelope/structural maintenance and HVAC maintenance, while BFA is responsible for general interior upkeep, furnishings and building operational costs.

Residents or clients with questions about services should contact Brunswick Family Assistance directly at 910-754-4766 in Bolivia or 910-408-1700 in Leland or by email at info@brunswickfamily.org.

It’s no secret that I love to go fishing. I don’t always keep fish, but when I do, I have a variety of preparations that are my go-to methods.  

Let me start off by stating that your fish should be fresh. Either eat it the same day you caught it, or if you can’t do that, freeze it as quickly as possible in well-wrapped packages using freezer zipper bags within another freezer zipper bag with all the air squeezed out of them.  

There are plenty of other methods but don’t forget about the fillets. Use within a month or so or else the quality will decline.  

If you buy fish, make sure of its freshness by checking that the eyes are clear and the gills are red. It should be firm and not smell. You shouldn’t smell anything. The so-called “fishy” smell? That’s spoilage happening. If you shop at a fish market or a supermarket that has a “fishy” smell, don’t buy from there and find a different place.  

Now that we have that taken care of let’s check the cooking methods.

Fried right 

Everybody loves fried fish. For good reason. It’s delicious. But if it’s not done right, it can be disappointing, oily, mushy, and not satisfying.  

Use an electric frying pan, Dutch oven, or a wok. Pour in enough canola oil to cover the bottom up to about an inch in depth. Set the thermostat to 375 degrees. If you don’t have an electric pan, monitor the heat with a cooking thermometer of some kind.  

While waiting for the oil temperature to come up, prepare the fillets. Have three bowls. In the first one put flour, in the second a beaten egg or two, in the third, breadcrumbs or cornmeal — I prefer panko breadcrumbs.  

Using a fork or tongs, dip the fish first into the flour, just enough to coat, then the egg and then finally the breadcrumbs. Set aside until you have four or five pieces. Don’t do more than that or else the temperature in the pan will decrease when you put them in.  

It’s going to sizzle … a lot. Don’t put a solid cover on the pan, the crust will get soggy. Cover it with one of those screen things from the kitchen supply section.  

Cook the fish on the first side until it’s a nice golden brown on the bottom. If the oil gets too hot it will burn, so watch it carefully and adjust the heat as necessary. It should take a few minutes. When it looks nice and brown on the down side, flip using a wire spatula. It won’t take as long to cook on the second side.  

When they’re done put them on a rack or paper towels to dry. Salt immediately. This is an important step and if you want to know why, ask the experts like Alton Brown or Kenji Lopez-Alt. Serve with whatever kind of sauce you want. I make tartar sauce using mayonnaise, sweet pickle relish and a dash of mustard. Serve fried fillets on a quality, toasted bun with a slice of cheese or on a plate with coleslaw on the side.  

Can’t go wrong.

Pan-roasting 

My second favorite is called pan roasting.  

Get a nice nonstick pan. Get it hot enough to melt butter and sizzle a little. Not rip-roaring hot, that’s too much. Once the butter is hot enough to sizzle, drop your fillets, preseasoned with whatever you like, into the pan and leave them alone.  

You want the fish to cook on one side until the fillets are opaque almost all the way through. As long as you keep the heat at a reasonable level, they won’t burn.  

Leave them.  

Don’t touch them.  

Don’t flip them.  

When the fish has turned white almost all the way, and maybe just a little bit of translucency left on the top, then quickly flip them using a plastic spatula.  

Add a quarter cup of white wine, some more butter, and the juice of a whole lemon. Use a plastic spoon to flip the lemon butter over the top of the fish for 30 seconds. Then quickly remove to a plate.  

Yeah, that’s good. It should have a nice brown crust on the side that was down first, and the lemon butter should permeate throughout. Pour whatever is left in the pan over the fish and watch it disappear. 

Fish cakes 

A good friend turned me onto some fish cakes that have become a favorite meal.  

Set your oven for 400. Place the fish on a baking sheet. Season the fillets anyway you like. I also put a half stick of butter on the pan. Bake for 10 minutes.  

When you pull the fish out, it’s going to smell amazing. Not time to eat yet though. The fish needs to cool for about 30 minutes.  

Place in a bowl or plate and into the refrigerator. When cooled, transfer everything that’s in the bowl to a big mixing bowl. Put in a half cup of mayo, a cup of breadcrumbs and a couple tablespoons of whatever seasoning you used before. Mix it all up using a silicone spatula. If it looks a little dry and it’s not holding together add a little bit more mayo, not too much.  

When it’s all holding together form 4-ounce patties. Yes, I use a scale! Put them on a plate and back into the refrigerator for another 30 minutes. Don’t worry it’s worth it.  

Now get your nonstick skillet. Set to medium heat. Put some butter in the pan. When it sizzles add the fish cakes. Cook slowly until golden brown.  

Try not to move them around too much. You only want to flip them once. Should take four minutes or so per side. Remove from the pan and put them on plates. Leave the pan on the heat. Add the juice of one lemon, a splash of white wine. A tablespoon of butter wouldn’t hurt either. Let it sizzle in there for a couple minutes.  

Any busted off pieces of fish cake, leave them. You could also add a few chopped shrimp. When the sauce is getting a thicker consistency, pour some out onto each fish cake, make sure everybody gets enough or they’ll get mad at you. 

If you have leftover fish cakes — it happens — there is one more thing to do: Melt some butter at the bottom of a saucepan. Put a crumbled fish cake in the melted butter and cook until the individual pieces are crunchy. Then pour a high-quality canned potato chowder over the crunchy fish cake pieces.  

The melted butter and crunchy fish pieces will fill the chowder and I’m pretty sure you might have a hard time finding a better soup at a lot of restaurants. 

There’s more, but that should get you started. Let me add that these are big favorites, and you need to make sure you have enough for everybody or there’s going to be trouble.

A farm-to-table program created to provide fresh, locally grown vegetables, fruits and produce to out-of-work food service employees during the pandemic shutdown will be expanding in North Carolina.

FarmsSHARE, a statewide food assistance program, has received a more than $7 million federal grant to boost efforts linking small farmers and businesses with underserved communities, including those in several coastal counties.

The U.S. Department of Agriculture awarded a little more than $7.6 million grant to the N.C. Department of Agriculture and Consumer Services, which then passed on $7.58 million to the Carolina Farm Stewardship Association, or CFSA.

CFSA runs FarmsSHARE, a program created in 2020 in response to the COVID-19 pandemic shutdown.

But, as Kana Miller, CFSA’s local food distribution coordinator, explained, the program that was meant to be temporary steadily grew into what is now a network of food hubs, farmers and community-based organizations “working together to increase access to fresh, healthy, locally-grown food in underserved communities across our state while investing in small North Carolina businesses to cultivate a stable, thriving local food system.”

In just a little more than a year and a half, FarmsSHARE raised $3.6 million in state and other funding, a majority of which was invested directly in local farmers and food hubs, Miller said in an email.

CFSA allocates funds to a network of food hubs, which use the money to buy food from local farmers and small businesses. The food the hubs buy then gets distributed by the hubs themselves or community-based organizations that partner with those hubs.

“Most of our food hubs partner with local food pantries, faith-based organizations, school groups, community centers, senior housing authorities, etc., to distribute the food directly to individuals in need, free of charge,” Miller said.

With the funds raised between May 2020 and December 2022, FarmsSHARE bought more than 460 tons of locally grown produce, meat, dairy, grain, honey, jam and eggs through 15 hubs and cooperatives sourcing from 250 small and midscale farmers in more than 55 counties, she said.

During that time, more than 85,000 boxes of food were distributed to more than 1,500 households each week.

Miller said the grant will allow FarmsSHARE to work with more food hub partners and community-based organizations to procure and distribute 133,000 boxes of local food from 450 local farmers.

“We’ll also be able to assist the participating food hubs and farms in entering new markets for local food and provide technical assistance to small farms on food safety,” she said. “With this funding, we have formed new partnerships in more counties in Western North Carolina, and we plan to fill in additional gaps in our state’s Piedmont Triad and Northeastern regions.”

Feast Down East, a Pender County-based FarmsSHARE food hub partner, will continue its reach into rural communities, said the program’s Executive Director Jordyn Appel-Hughes.

“A lot of our expansion efforts into rural communities came out of FarmsSHARE,” she said.

Feast Down East was formed as a grassroots initiative initially called the Southeastern North Carolina Food Systems Program in 2006 in response to job loss and poverty in the region.

Farmers impacted by the mid-2000s tobacco buyouts were brought to the table to talk about alternative crops to harvest.

As the program evolved, eventually becoming a food hub, it provided a path to get regionally based crops from small and midsize farms directly to everyone from restaurant chefs and residents who are seeking fresh, local food to people living in food deserts.

Feast Down East distributes food to people in need through dozens of partners in Pender, Brunswick, New Hanover, Carteret, Bladen, Columbus, Duplin, Onslow, Hoke, Robeson and Sampson counties.

Appel-Hughes, who took the helm at Feast Down East in 2015, explained that the program really began to expand in counties outside of New Hanover County as a result of Hurricane Florence. The September 2018 storm’s historic rainfall resulted in flooding that made it difficult to get into some rural communities.

It wasn’t until Appel-Hughes began to assist both farmers and people in those rural communities that she understood just how much of need there is in those areas.

So, as food service workers began returning to work as pandemic restrictions slowly lifted and FarmsSHARE pivoted to reach communities that struggle to access food, Appel-Hughes wanted to make sure Feast Down East focused on rural communities.

“FarmsSHARE has been really powerful for us,” she said. “It increased our farmers’ sales by about 33 percent last year.”

Morgan Milne, owner of Red Beard Farms in Willard, was just 24 and passionate about getting fresh, locally grown food to anyone who wanted it when he started his farm.

“It’s a passion of mine,” he said. “It’s important. You quickly learn no, you do actually have to make money and so you have to find some balance there. Working with Feast Down East has absolutely increased our footprint. It’s helped maintain a source of income. I was never one to rely on one particular source of sales.”

Milne grows more than 60 different types of vegetables, including more than 100 different varieties of cauliflower along with carrots, strawberries, kale, collards, cabbage and basil varieties, arugula, Okra, sweet potatoes and shitake mushrooms.

His farm distributes more than 70 food boxes a week to households in need.

A new North Carolina Department of Environmental Quality grant program to help reduce food waste in landfills has awarded its first round of funding to nearly a dozen projects, two of which on the coast.

DEQ’s Division of Environmental Assistance and Customer Service oversees the program that helps local governments, nonprofit organizations and businesses reduce the amount of food waste disposed at landfills.

Wilmington Compost Co. and Crystal Coast Compost in Hubert are among the 11 projects awarded a total of $393,264 through the Food Waste Reduction Grant. Collectively, grants are projected to divert 20,292 tons of food waste from landfills, officials said Thursday.

“The Food Waste Reduction grants are a key way to grow our state’s capacity to address the largest segment of our waste stream,” DEQ Secretary Elizabeth S. Biser said in a statement. “These investments fund sustainable projects that reduce the amount of food waste sent to landfills, which saves valuable landfill space, improves our soils and reduces greenhouse gas emissions.” 

Other projects are in the state include Brooks Contractor in Goldson, Buncombe County, city of Durham, CompostAVL in Asheville, CompostNow in Raleigh, CrownTown Compost in Charlotte, Henderson County, McGill Environmental in New Hill, and Davidson.

Recipients are required to provide a minimum cash match of 20% for a total investment of around $714,598 from 2023 funded projects.

Part of a series on pollinators.

Spring is the time of year when things start growing and blooming. It’s also when pollinators like bees come out and get to work.

An awareness campaign called “No Mow May” is urging people not to mow their lawns this month, or even this whole season, as a way to help make sure that these pollinators have enough to eat. Many of the small flowers that pop up in the spring can provide a critical food source for bees. Mowing these blooms robs the bees of this potential sustenance.

Bees are critical to the health of our ecosystems, but they are also in trouble.

Wild bee populations have experienced substantial declines due to factors including urbanization, pesticides and undiversified agriculture. Increased urbanization has led to the fragmentation of pollinator habitat — a widening in the space between areas where bees can find food or live. Without bees, our food system would never be the same.

“(When) we think of habitat loss, we think of forests being logged and things being plowed and built on,” said Matthew Shepherd, director of outreach and education for the Xerces Society of Invertebrate Conservation. “But then, every acre of featureless grass is just as much loss of habitat as anything else.”

History of the Green Lawn

The American attachment to the perfectly trimmed green lawn aesthetic has a history rooted in settler colonialism. Americans modeled their landscaping after wealthy European elites, who used a pure grass lawn as a way to signal their wealth.

This thing that originated as a status symbol is now a hallmark of the American backyard. Despite that it is an extremely common sight now, most green turf grasses are not native to the United States. Therefore, they can require a lot of upkeep — excessive water, pesticides — to keep them going.

Covering 40 million acres across the country, grass is now the biggest irrigated “crop” in the U.S. — surpassing even corn. And yet, it gives little to nothing back to native ecosystems.

No Mow May

Green grass lawns, in effect, extend the fragmentation of pollinator habitat. That’s why Plantlife in the United Kingdom started the awareness campaign, No Mow May. This movement has also taken hold in the U.S. The idea is that not mowing your lawn for even a month can allow for the growth of things like clover that bees can use for food.

Of course, not mowing your lawn can present issues, such as enforcement of local ordinances, or even just the local status quo. There are homeowner associations bylaws and legal prohibitions on any deferred lawn maintenance that could be characterized as overgrowth.

Related: Celebrate pollinators Saturday during World Bee Day

Facing ordinances like this, some U.S. residents have challenged the idea of what a yard should look like. In Maryland, one couple pushed back on an HOA requirement and it resulted in legislation that prohibits unreasonable restrictions on low-impact landscaping such as a pollinator-friendly yard.

Beyond May

Ultimately, said Shepherd, No Mow May should ideally serve as a springboard for a more comprehensive conversation about making spaces pollinator friendly all year round. Shepherd said there are three things you can focus on: creating nesting areas, flowers for food, and quitting pesticides.

If all you’re doing is not mowing your lawn for a few weeks, said Shepherd, you’re not achieving any long-term benefit. Because if you don’t have any blooming flowers in your lawn, you’re just growing long, green grass. And if you do, teaching bees that there’s a food source in your yard and then taking it away can be harmful. So ultimately, true support for pollinators has to go beyond the campaign.

“The real benefit from (No Mow May) is that people are talking about lawns — they’re talking about the bad things of lawns, how the lawns could be, what the changes can be,” Shepherd said. “And we’re seeing a much broader conversation about pollinator conservation in our neighborhoods, and what we really should be doing to support the bees.”

Advocates say focusing on native, flowering plants is also a good idea, as is spreading awareness to other people in your community and beyond. Critically important is eliminating things from your yard, like grass, that might require regular pesticide applications.

“Anything we can do to bring habitat back into our neighborhoods, our towns, our farmland and so on, is going to be beneficial,” Shepherd said.

After May wraps up, June is National Pollinators Month. Follow along for more in this series about pollinators.

WILMINGTON – It is not about turning a profit.

Showing people that food, yard and animal waste has value – that’s centric to New Hanover County’s composting program.

“It was never intended to be a revenue stream for us,” said New Hanover County Recycling and Solid Waste Director Joe Suleyman. “To keep that out of the landfill, that’s where we make our money. It’s about educating the customers. We want to make believers out of them.”

More than five years have passed since the county began operating its composting program, one built on a “kind of” shoestring budget, ingenuity and creating the just-right recipe of chemical balance, time and temperature.

Last fiscal year, the program made available to the public 273 tons of finished compost — nutrient-rich material for New Hanover County residents — for free.

Over the years, development in the county and billion-dollar damaging hurricanes have shaved off years from the landfill’s life expectancy.

When Suleyman took the helm of the county’s recycling and solid waste program in 2012, the landfill was taking in about 600 tons of waste a day.

Today, an average of about 700 trucks routinely unload about 2,000 tons of waste a day, he said.

Mixed in with the household trash, construction debris and other waste is tons and tons of discarded food.

Up to 40% of produced food goes uneaten in the United States, according to the U.S. Department of Agriculture. An overwhelming majority –  about 95% – of that food waste gets disposed of in landfills.

Those gut-punch statistics prompted the USDA and U.S. Environmental Protection Agency in June 2013 to launch the U.S. Food Waste Challenge.

The challenge calls on operators within the food chain, from farmers and food manufacturers to grocery stores, universities and local governments, to connect with hunger relief organizations to recover food waste, or food that is edible but discarded; reduce food waste through improving storage, shopping, marketing, labeling and cooking methods; and recycle food waste to feed animals or create compost, bioenergy and natural fertilizers.

The USDA and EPA in 2015 established a national goal to reduce by 50% food loss and waste by 2030 to improve food security and conserve natural resources.

The following year, officials with the University of North Carolina Wilmington’s dining services approached the county about partnering to divert pre-consumer food waste from the university’s Wagoner Dining Hall.

The idea took flight, but not without its challenges, Suleyman said on a recent April morning while standing amidst the composting area tucked among towering green grass-covered hills created by tons upon tons of trash at the county’s landfill off U.S. 421 North in Wilmington.

The footprint for a composting operation within the landfill required something very compact.

Enter Daritech Inc., a Lynden, Washington-based company that designs and manufactures components for cattle milking and manure management.

The county purchased a BeddingMaster in-vessel manure composter, an 8-foot-diameter, 40-foot-long machine designed to recycle manure into bedding for cows. 

It took about two months of trial and error to figure out they could feed a chemistry-derived recipe of food, yard and animal waste into the machine that would turn out a product safe for people to use as compost.

The in-vessel composter and its supporting equipment were installed at New Hanover County’s landfill in November 2017 and operations began the day before Thanksgiving of that year.

As the large, green, barrel-like cylinder slowly and squeakily turned, Suleyman explained the composting process, one he said is about balancing nitrogen and carbon.

Each morning, Sarah Morton, environmental technician, uses a small Bobcat loader to feed about 10 cubic yards of the right combination of food and yard waste and discarded animal bedding into the composter.

From there, the fully automated in-vessel system handles the remainder of the work. The machine is completely insulated so the temperature inside is consistently regulated. This allows billions of good bacteria to naturally generate heat, which is needed to kill off bad bacteria like salmonella and weed seeds.

“The magic goal is 130 degrees Fahrenheit for three consecutive days,” Suleyman said.

Excess moisture collected from fresh air fans pulled into the machine drips into a bucket. Liquid in the bucket goes into the recipe to supercharge the biological activity taking place inside the machine.

“We’re doing what Mother Nature does every day, but we speed up the process,” Suleyman said.

Once the mixture is turned into usable compost it is released from the machine and pushed by the Bobcat into a curing bunker where it must stay for a month.

The finished product is a black-colored, crumbly material.

It did wonders for Debby Riescher’s flower beds.

“It made a difference to my flowers,” she said. “They’re perky and bright and they’re coming up.”

Earlier this month, Riescher was back for a second round of compost with plans to tackle her lawn.

The compost “is a game changer because my soil is sand,” the Wilmington resident said.

Riescher and Morton filled with compost upwards of 20 large, black plastic yard waste-type bags. Each bag is filled to about a third of the way to make their weight manageable for Riescher to carry. Surprisingly, the smell emitted from the area is not putrid, but rather earthy.

She doesn’t have a pickup truck so she used the bags to transport the compost from the landfill in her small KIA SUV, its rear becoming noticeably closer to the ground as more bags were tossed inside.

Riescher said she learned about the county’s composting program during a 2019 master gardener class hosted at the New Hanover County Arboretum. Suleyman was one of the speakers during the class.

“It’s free,” Riescher said. “That’s the thing. I just know I couldn’t afford to buy enough compost to spread over my lawn.”

Spring is the busy season for the composting area, where people come to get compost in everything from truck beds to storage totes to bags.

A handful of people are on a waiting list for compost, Morton said.

Initial cost of the composting operation, including construction of buildings on the site, the composter and permitting was $680,000.

The electric bill for the operation – less than $200 a month.

“It’s such a simple design,” Suleyman said.

Since the program’s inception, other entities from local restaurants, Live Oak Bank, Tidal Creek Co-op and homeowners have diverted food waste to the county’s composting operation.

Suleyman said the program has taken about 250 tons of compostable waste annually for the past five and a half years. That figure is on the conservative side, he said. 

At least 2,500 tons of compost has been generated since the program’s inception.

The county operates a HazWagon, which parks in different parts of the county each week to accept waste that can be used at the composting facility.

More information about the HazWagon, compostable materials and scheduling times to pick up compost is available at https://nhcgov.com/354/Composting.

A study recently published in Nature Climate Change found that the global food sector alone, the way it is now, could add nearly 1 degree Celsius to global climate warming by the year 2100. But over half of this anticipated warming could be avoided if there were simultaneous changes made to production and food waste systems, the energy sector, as well as universal diet changes.

It is exceedingly hard to estimate warming associated with agriculture at the global level. One of the biggest reasons for this is that the agricultural sector emits multiple climate pollutants, things like carbon dioxide, methane and nitrous oxide. Often, to make it easier to estimate emissions, a strategy is used called “carbon dioxide equivalents.” This puts all emissions on the same comparable scale, making it easier to measure aggregate impact.

The downside of this method is that different pollutants spend varying amounts of time in the atmosphere and trap different amounts of heat. So when you only look at these emissions through the lens of carbon dioxide, you risk blurring the picture of what agricultural emissions actually look like, and what can be done to address them. This study aimed to paint a clearer image.

Previous research has shown that one of the biggest pollutants from the agriculture sector is methane, which stays in the atmosphere for a far shorter amount of time than carbon dioxide but has a stronger warming effect on the atmosphere per mass. So looking at a long-term timescale in carbon dioxide equivalents would really downplay the role of methane emissions in the agriculture industry.

In order to get a better idea of how different pollutants could impact warming by the year 2100, the researchers had to look at the emissions individually, not as an aggregate.

“It just made it very apparent that when people are doing lifecycle assessments and when they’re doing this kind of work, the need to report those emissions in the explicit gas emission rather than an aggregate it is really essential,” said Catherine Ivanovich, a doctoral candidate in the Department of Earth and Environmental Sciences at Columbia University and lead author on this study. “And the more that people can do this type of work can reduce future uncertainty.”

The researchers analyzed literature on the food sector including agriculture, fisheries, ranching and more. One of the findings of this study was that consumption of meat and dairy will be responsible for more than half of food-associated warming by the year 2030, and continuing through 2100.

The researchers explored four different possible arenas in which to mitigate anticipated warming: production, consumption, the energy sector and food loss/waste.

Optimizing agricultural production practices could contribute 25% of possible reductions by 2100. Decarbonizing the energy sector by 2050 would decrease the anticipated warming from the food sector by 17% by the end of the century.

A global diet shift based on health recommendations could decrease projected warming by 21%. Finally, if the world were able to cut consumer and retail food waste in half by the end of the century, it would decrease anticipated warming by 9%.

Changes to production, the energy sector and food loss/waste would all be largely structural or systemic changes, while changing the ways in which people consume food through diet is more of a behavioral shift. The limitation of this method is that making any kind of change on a global scale is very difficult and maybe unlikely. But the benefit is that taking a simplified approach allows people to see the full extent of what could be possible with these kinds of shifts.

“We can really just think of it as a very theoretical test of the rough magnitude these storyline scenarios might be expected to trigger,” Ivanovich said.

Regardless, Ivanovich says that both supply-side and consumer-side interventions, at multiple scales, are going to be critical to reduce anticipated warming in the food sector.

Questions about how to advance in the food sector are made even more complicated when moving beyond consideration of greenhouse gases. Other important factors to consider are how different food production techniques impact the environment and space use on the land and in the ocean.

“In order to make meaningful change in this sector, which is a really essential aspect of human life — supporting people, ensuring that we’re pursuing global food security and also sustaining economic livelihood for people who are producing our foods — we really need a multi-angle approach,” Ivanovich said. “We can really work towards increased food security, and providing people with nutritious diets, all the while working towards a more climate-safe future.”

According to the North Carolina Local Food Council, climate change poses a notable threat to the state’s food system. But a more resilient local food system focused on food waste recovery, local food infrastructure, better support for cultivators and addressing racial inequities in the food sector, among other things, would make the state less vulnerable in the face of pressures like climate change. There are resources on the Local Food Countil’s website toward that end.

There are also reasons to be optimistic, said Ivanovich. When you separate the different pollutants, you can see that nearly 60% of the warming by the end of the century is because of methane. And since methane is a short-lived emission, making rapid changes in that sector now could make a big difference in slowing down the rate of warming associated with the food sector.

It also underscores the urgency for action, according to Ivanovich.

“Everyone has to eat,” Ivanovich said. “We have to ensure that we can sustain our global population with nutritious food that supports people at a local scale. This is the problem that we can’t really shy away from.”

For Lisa Rose, author of the new book, “Urban Foraging,” her fascination with the often-overlooked plants that can be a part of a healthy diet began with family and has become a profession and a passion.

An anthropologist with an interest in ethnobotany and herbal medicine, Rose has written three books. Her first two, “Grand Rapids Food” and “Midwest Medicinal Plants,” were focused on her home state of Michigan. Her latest, though, “Urban Foraging,” released in October, takes a nationwide look.

“I’ve traveled a great deal between both coasts … so in considering this book, I really had to double click into generally what am I going to be able to find across most of my regions,” she said. “So in parts of North Carolina coastal regions, you might have 35 of those plants, whereas 15 might not be immediately at your fingertips. The criteria, first and foremost (was) geographic distribution.”

The foundation for her interest in botany, plants and how they can be a part of everyday life, began in Flint, Michigan, where she grew up. Her father was an engineer and mother an avid gardener, and both parents contributed to her fascination with plants.

“He was always asking questions, “she said, describing her father. “He was very engaged in the natural world. In fact, he taught me at a young age that the natural world is the best engineer, that the natural world has solutions to the problems of imbalance. There’s a natural rhythm, not always nice and frequently chaotic in the restoration of balance.”

It was her mother, though, who applied knowledge of the natural world to daily life.

“My mother was a gardener for a good chunk of my childhood, not because it was a hobby, but because it was a practical, economical way to feed her family,” Rose said. “We had a feral concord grape hedgerow when I was growing up and my mother would put up about 50 to 75 quart jars’ worth of juice. I mean that that really was a foundation of my childhood.”

Not every plant in the book grows in eastern North Carolina. Aspen, according to North Carolina Parks webpage “Vascular Plants of North Carolina,” only grows in the mountains of the state and even then, only rarely. Hyssop, described by the “Vascular Plants” page as “one of the tallest and most robust native herbs in the state,” has not been recorded in the Piedmont or coastal plain.

With 50 plants listed in her book, though, there are plenty to choose from. Some are well known as edible wild plants, particularly blackberries and grapes, although Rose features wild concord grapes of her native Michigan.

Some of her selections are surprising, although when reading about these plants, it becomes apparent why they were chosen.

The prickly pear is a case in point. Rose suggests numerous possible uses for the plant, ultimately settling on recommending a prickly pear simple syrup. When harvesting prickly pear, Rose makes clear the hazards involved, pointing out that the species has two types of sharp barbs awaiting the careless.

“Both the prickly pear pads and fruits are covered in large and tiny spines. While the large spies are somewhat avoidable, the glochids are pesky buggers that can get into the skin and feel like a fiberglass rash,” she writes. “The glochids will embed themselves into fabric, so do your gathering with leather gloves.”

She described for Coastal Review the lesson she learned the first time she harvested prickly pear.

I didn’t realize — It’s not the big thorns that are the worst problem. It’s the glochids. They’re horrible. I had harvested my first batch of prickly pear using a cloth bag and cloth gloves. That was the worst idea ever,” she said.

Her recommended recipe for prickly pear simple syrup is as a “delicious simple syrup for margaritas.”

A number of Rose’s recipes are for mixed drinks, which she noted is part of a long tradition.

“In past generations a lot of plants were preserved into a bitter as digestive aids and served as aperitifs. Monks were brewing them in the Middle Ages, 13th century France, Germany. So it’s really a long tradition, of maybe not for medicinal any longer but definitely today for a cocktail hour,” she said.

Many of the plants Rose writes about are often thought of as common weeds. Field garlic is a great example. Also known, according to the North Carolina State Cooperative Extension webpage as crow garlic, onion grass, stag’s garlic, wild garlic, and wild onion, the plant is common, especially along the edge of gardens. The plant has a distinct odor that is a cross between an onion and garlic and has the appearance of a spindly scallion.

Her recipe calls for a wild garlic flatbread, but she also notes the tops make an excellent garnish in place of scallion in a salad. She also writes that the bulb is exceedingly fibrous and quite difficult to use in a recipe.

Rose also takes readers into the forest. She noted that the needles, bark and resin of pine trees in general are edible. The needles in particular are emphasized for their culinary versatility.

“Chop the needles and use them as an herb to flavor salads, butters and vinegars for dressings,” she suggests in her book. She also notes that homebrewers can use pine needles to create ”a Belgian or wheat-styled ale without making the brew overly pine flavored.”

For Rose, “Urban Foraging” is a way to help readers understand the common plants in our lives that can be a part of our everyday diet — trees, flowers and many that are considered weeds. The book also reminds us of a largely forgotten history, a time when foraging for wild plants was a regular part of life. “In general, common knowledge we’ve forgotten about (wild plants),” she said.  “We’re about two generations now from that having been a really common practice.”

In an undergraduate classroom at the University of North Carolina Chapel Hill in 2017, a group of students sat in front of a plate of sushi from a local restaurant. But it wasn’t lunchtime — the students were attempting to quantify how common the mislabeling of red snapper was across North Carolina. 

By analyzing the DNA from 43 fish samples they’d collected from seafood markets, grocery stores and restaurants across 10 counties, they found that a whopping 90.7% were mislabeled as red snapper. Most often, the substitutions were tilapia or vermillion snapper. 

“It’s really hard to know where the mislabeling is happening, obviously, because a lot of seafood goes through a number of steps; it changes hands like five to seven times,” said Dr. John Bruno, instructor and creator of the class. “So it’s hard to know who’s doing it.”

Bruno was asked by the university to create an undergraduate course that gave first-year students real research experience. The idea was to engage students in science early on, and increase retention and diversity in STEM, or science, technology, engineering and math.

“They’re students that have never held a pipette. They’ve never asked a question, never developed a hypothesis,” Bruno said. “The idea was to develop a question that’s applied, that’s meaningful to them, that they can grasp, and then use that question to teach the basic research techniques.”

According to Bruno, mislabeling — essentially committing fraud — is rampant in the food industry. So diving into the mislabeling of local seafood was something Bruno felt the students could investigate.

Why is mislabeling so widespread? “I think there’s clearly a lack of enforcement and a lack of testing,” Bruno said.

Mislabeling rampant

Based on customer demand, certain fish can be sold for more than others. And this may tempt producers into mislabeling their fish when the desired product is out of season or low in availability.

“There’s obviously a big economic incentive to mislabel,” Bruno said.

Red snapper is a great example. It’s been overfished in the Gulf of Mexico and the southeastern Atlantic. 

“So there’s very little of it available … yet the public demands it year round just because it’s something we’re familiar with,” Bruno said. “It’s not necessarily spectacularly better than other fish. It’s just culturally in demand.”

There are some fishing operations that allow you to buy seafood straight from the fishers who caught it. But often, seafood found in restaurants and grocery stores has a much longer chain of production. It’s easy for information to get changed along the way, but harder to pin down exactly where the deception is occurring.

In Bruno’s course, students went out to restaurants and grocery stores and collected samples of seafood. The students then extracted the DNA and amplified it using PCR, or polymerase chain reaction, a testing method also used for COVID-19. A commercial lab then did the sequencing. Once the students had the genetic code back from the lab, they used online tools to determine what they were looking at.

This isn’t the only evidence of the mislabeling trend. Two other in-state examples include shrimp sold in North Carolina that were mislabeled as “local” when they weren’t, and a corporate officer with a Pamlico County-based company that sold crab meat marked as a “Product of USA” when it was, in fact, imported, who was convicted two years ago. 

In one of the published papers based on work in Bruno’s classes, the students found that in talking to people, many were not aware of the issue, but once it was brought to their attention, it concerned them.

“Once people realize that this mislabeling is there, I think they can pretty quickly get the sense for the impacts it might have on their health and their pocketbook, but also on the environment,” Bruno said. 

People trying to make informed decisions about what they’re eating, both for their health and the environment, may be getting foiled by the issue of mislabeling. Though sometimes, said Bruno, a more sustainable species is being substituted for an unsustainable one. An example is again red snapper. Sometimes fish marketed as red snapper in grocery stores is actually tilapia, which is lower in the food web and therefore has less of an impact on the environment when it is farmed. 

“I’d rather train people to just buy tilapia and be aware of what it is rather than paying red snapper prices for it,” Bruno said.

Choice experiment

By extension, creating more consumer demand for fish species that can be sustainably farmed or harvested has the power to direct the industry, and decrease the motivation for mislabeling.

Jane Harrison, coastal economics specialist for North Carolina Sea Grant, was one of the authors of a report detailing trends in consumer demand for North Carolina seafood.

The authors sought to find out how often respondents ate seafood at home and at restaurants, where they got it from, how interested consumers are in knowing where their seafood comes from, and how their perception of that seafood changes based on certain attributes such as product safety and environmental concerns.

Across 1,400 respondents, Harrison and her team conducted a “choice experiment,” wherein people are given several options for seafood from different countries and asked to make decisions.

The results indicated that North Carolina residents would prefer to buy state-sourced seafood over options from foreign countries and even over other states on the East Coast. 

“Most of the time, people aren’t thinking about just one thing when they’re in the grocery store (or) in the restaurant,” said Harrison. “But certainly that local sourcing does have a significant impact on willingness to pay.”

North Carolinians want the money they spend on seafood to support the livelihoods of local commercial fishermen. The respondents valued the flavorful, healthy options from the local market, the local variety and safe handling practices.

“You think about any product, there’s really a series of attributes that are going to affect the price and people’s willingness to pay,” Harrison said. Adding, look at a car, for example. People will pay based on the gas mileage, the color, the make and model. “There’s a variety of attributes that affect your choice, just like seafood.”

That said, the most common factor that would sway respondents from buying local seafood was cost. State-sourced seafood tends to cost more, and that’s a deciding factor for many people.

This makes sense, but starts to fall apart if the fish you are buying is inappropriately labeled from the start. Even if all labels were accurate, there is no one labeling certification that addresses all aspects of environmental sustainability and social responsibility. That’s why some organizations advocate buyers move away from a labels-based approach toward a values-based approach. There are resources online for helping people bypass mislabeling issues and buy direct from fishermen, such as the Local Catch Seafood Finder and Carteret Catch.

The future of food

In a future where the seafood industry is socially sustainable, more direct communication and exchange between consumers and fishermen would likely help a lot. But the industry also has to be viable for those doing the fishing or cultivation.

North Carolina has long been a hot spot for oysters, and various government actions and research have supported this industry. The state joined the National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration’s National Shellfish Initiative in 2018 with several goals, one being to create stable jobs. Scientists at all the major universities in the state contribute to research helping farmers grow oysters successfully. But making oyster cultivation an economically viable job is still a work in progress. This summer, changes made to the state’s Noninsured Crop Disaster Assistance Program, or NAP, can help oyster farmers in case of emergency. 

The changes increase the payout per oyster in the event of a crisis like a mass mortality or a hurricane to more accurately reflect market value of the oyster, and the size that is in demand. 

“It’s a step in the right direction,” said Chris Matteo, acting president of the North Carolina Shellfish Growers Association and owner of Chadwick Creek Oysters. “It underpins the industry more effectively.”

Matteo says that going forward, he’s hopeful that NAP payouts will more accurately reflect the market value, and could even be adjusted year to year. This would make the oyster cultivation industry more economically secure for farmers in the state.

The goal of USDA programs like NAP, and of these changes, said Matteo, is to make sure growers stay in business.

All of these things will be essential to creating a socially sustainable seafood industry for the future.

This semester, UNC’s John Bruno is co-teaching a new course entitled The Future of Food. There’s a lot, he said, that he wants to cover. No one is unaffected by food.

“It’s the basis of our family lives,” Bruno said. “It’s so important in our cultures, it defines so many cultures and religious practices, and our relationship with nature now is so much just defined by food.”

This is last in a series examining the role and sustainability of seafood in a healthy diet and is published in collaboration with North Carolina Health News.

A little past 7 p.m. on a mid-September evening in Beaufort, North Carolina, pink clouds stretch across the sky and reflect in the water, surrounding the Newport River Pier as the sun fades. Scattered along the pier in clusters, are nine people who intermittently cast baited fishing hooks into the water. 

It’s a beautiful night for fishing.

When asked why they fish, many people will say that fishing is a relaxing pastime and that they often throw back what they catch. 

Aside from those who engage in recreational, commercial and sport fishing, there is a, seemingly, more elusive type of fisher — one who engages in subsistence fishing, also known as fishing for food.  

In an effort to learn more about these subsistence fishers, a group of Duke University researchers developed a research study that examines subsistence fishing. The study defines people who engage in subsistence fishing as having the following characteristics: they rely on fish to survive, have limited income, live close to the source, use basic gear to fish, and eat or sell fish to meet their needs.

In 2020, there were more than 20,000 — the number includes inland and coastal waivers — North Carolinians who received a subsistence fishing waiver, which allowed them to fish for free in North Carolina waterways, according data supplied by the Department of Environmental Quality.

An annual coastal fishing license for an adult resident is $16, and a joint inland/coastal  fishing license is $41, according to data supplied by DEQ.

Fishing waivers can be an important resource for individuals who rely on fishing to put food on the table for their household, extended family or community members. This is also important because the Dietary Guidelines for Americans, 2020-2025, encourages people to consume fish regularly because it provides omega-3 fatty acids, which are an essential part of a healthy diet.

Currently, in North Carolina, and across the country, there is a push to highlight the links between food, nutrition and health. Given that fish is high in omega-3s, for instance, makes it an ideal food to promote in this way.

A two-rod setup

Roy and Benny, stationed near the end of the pier, are friends who fish together regularly. They work for the same company that makes doors for walk-in coolers, they said. Benny appears subdued, content with letting Roy answer the questions about fishing.

Panning the scene on the bridge, one thing immediately stands out: most people are fishing with two rods. 

One rod is for catching any number of fish that might be biting, such as red drum, croaker, puffer fish, or mackerel, to name a few, the men explain. The second rod, in most cases, is used to catch “cut bait,” such as lizard fish, Roy said.

When he’s not casting his rod from a pier, Roy said he and his wife like to get out on the water.

“(My wife and I) fish in our kayaks three times a week, and I usually fish with (Benny) on Fridays,” said Roy. He lives on the other side of the Newport River and fishes behind his house about two times a week. 

Roy started fishing when he was around 5 years old, and said that his family once “owned the only tackle shop in town.”

While Roy did not say that he and his family depend on what they catch to feed themselves, he did say that his weekly fishing allows him to stock the freezer, which provides the family with a constant source of fish throughout the winter.

“I’ll keep them if they’re worth keeping, but I’m not one of those ones who is actively looking to keep fish,” he said. “I can go catch all the fish I want, so for me, I want something that is worth catching … It gives you an adrenaline rush more than anything.”

Minimizing cost

Nine o’clock rolls around and there are three guys bank fishing along the river, a few miles from the pier. One of them, James, is perched on a 5-gallon bucket, patiently waiting for a tug on his line. He is hoping artificial bait will entice Spanish mackerel to bite.

The area where James and two other men are fishing is dimly lit by light coming from a bridge located a few hundred yards away.

He says that Spanish mackerel will hang around as long as the water temperature is somewhere between 75 and 80 degrees. But once the temperature drops below that sweet spot, they’ll be gone for the season. 

“If I can catch 15 Spanish (mackerel) that are over 12 inches, that’s an awesome day,” James said.

James travels regularly from his home in Guilford County to the Beaufort/Morehead City area to fish. During the coronavirus pandemic, he said he left his delivery job because someone threatened him with a gun. Now, he’s trying to earn a living selling the saltwater fish he catches to customers back home. While James fishes to earn a living, he can’t afford a commercial fishing license, a large boat and all the gear that comes with the job. 

He says that for a beginning fisher or someone with limited means, purchasing the essential gear to get started does not have to be expensive.

“You can take a $10 rod and come out here and catch more fish than anybody,” he said. “I got a 3-foot rod in the back of my truck, and that rod has almost caught as many fish as any rod that I have … I bought that rod from Walmart for about $15 or $16.”

One aspect of fishing that can be expensive is buying bait. For that reason, James often uses artificial bait that he said can prove to be less expensive in the long run. However, he said that you don’t need to buy bait of any kind to be successful.

“All you need to fish is to catch one fish and you cut it up and throw it back out there (as bait) and you’ll get another one.”

Healthy diet, cause for concern

Fish has long been considered an important part of a healthy diet, but seafood consumption only received the nod from the experts recently in the federal Dietary Guidelines for Americans. In 2005, the guidelines, produced every few years by the U.S. Department of Agriculture, recommended for the first time that people should eat 8 ounces of seafood per week, according to Jessica Soldavini, a UNC Gillings School of Global Public Health professor. 

Yet, there are warnings that come with fish consumption.  Mercury and other contaminants can be passed from fish to humans. The Food and Drug Administration, or FDA, has a resource guide titled “Advice About Eating Fish” that offers suggestions for how much and what type of fish pregnant women and children should consume.

Additionally, the North Carolina Department of Health and Human Services includes fish consumption advisories for North Carolina on their website.

“Individuals are encouraged to check this database to see if they should limit or avoid consuming fish caught in certain bodies of water,” Soldavini said.

Some fish that are considered safe to consume for pregnant women and children are Atlantic mackerel, tilapia, catfish and whiting, for instance.

Soldavini also said that there are other affordable proteins to consider such as beans, lentils and eggs.

“Individuals may choose not to consume fish for a variety of reasons,” she said. “Other sources of omega-3 fatty acids include plant oils such as canola, flaxseed, and soybean oil and nuts and seeds like walnuts, flaxseed, and chia seeds.”

It’s a spectrum

Around 8:30 a.m. after meeting Roy, Benny and James, Daryl Mouring is the only one fishing on the pier. Mouring lives in Raleigh where he says he fishes everyday in one of the area’s freshwater sources. But once a year for the past 30 years, Mouring has made the trip from Raleigh down to Beaufort to spend time throwing his hook into the salt water.

He said he’s accustomed to catching a variety of fish during his trips to Beaufort, such as “sheepshead, black drum, croakers and puffer fish.”

But in recent years, he says, he’s noticed a change when he travels down from Raleigh to fish on the pier. 

“Ten years ago you could fill your cooler in about an hour.” This is no longer the case, he said, and he blames the change on overfishing.

That doesn’t seem to be a problem for Mouring today. This morning he’s been on the pier for about an hour and has already caught a few. Another tug on his line reveals a puffer fish, which offers little resistance as Mouring reels it in. 

As a child growing up in Washington, D.C., Mouring was taught to fish by his father –and the only fish he eats is what he catches.

“If you’re on a limited income you can’t pay (the high) price for a piece of fish,” he said. “It ain’t in your budget, it’s not worth it. I’ll look at the fish (in the store) and wish I was down here catching them.”

Aside from providing an affordable source of food, Mourning said he enjoys fishing because he likes spending time in nature and, occasionally, spending time chatting with fellow fishers.

Grant Murray is an associate professor of marine policy at Duke University and was an advisor for the “Fishing for Food” research program. When discussing the research the team did for the project, he agreed that the fishers they interviewed in the Beaufort area didn’t necessarily fit the narrow definition of a subsistence fisher, but represented a range.

“There were a few who were eating all the fish that they caught (and) depending on it daily, either for food or for income,” he said, “all the way down to people who were much more occasional in their fishing, but would give fish to family members, friends or relatives. That was a common story.”

He said he expected to hear more about subsistence fishing, but Murray said he was  surprised by some of the reasons given by people who participated in the study for why they fished that extended beyond filling the need for an affordable protein source.

“A lot of other things people talked about as benefits were camaraderie, the mental health, the social activity, the being outside, the exercise, the sense of giving to others when they’re able to share fish,” he said. “There are people out there that are out there for different reasons, different mixes of reason and (varying) dependencies on the protein.”

This is fourth in a series examining the role and sustainability of seafood in a healthy diet and is published in collaboration with North Carolina Health News.

For Debbie Callaway, life is inextricable from the seafood industry. Her grandfather was a clammer on the North River and a cook for a menhaden operation. But throughout her life, she’s watched the environment and landscape be altered by forces such as population changes, development and pollution. It feels as though access to fishable waters has become increasingly encroached upon.

“I’ve lived here in Beaufort my whole life,” Callaway said. “And the changes are just unbelievable.” 

Callaway is on the board of directors for Walking Fish, a wild-caught, community-supported fishery that distributes in Raleigh and Durham. This cooperative model is based on a common concept from land-based farming called “community supported agriculture.” The idea is that consumers buy shares of a seasonal harvest, which they pick up weekly or biweekly from a designated location. 

People who sign up get whatever is seasonally available that the fishermen catch that week — clams, oysters, flounder, shrimp, monkfish and more.

“We’re increasing the availability of seafood to people living in the Triangle, who have limited access to fresh, local seafood — delivering the seafood directly from the fishermen to the consumer,” Callaway said.

The idea behind Walking Fish is the “triple-bottom line” — that in order for something to be sustainable, it must recognize the interconnected nature of sociocultural, economic and ecological systems. The goal is to harvest only what is available seasonally, to protect the environment and use an economic model that makes the business viable for the fishermen and worthwhile for the consumer.

The environmental impact of the seafood industry is a complex issue. Overfishing has been recognized as a problem associated with large-scale commercial fishing. National Geographic reports that it emerged as an issue for the first time in the late 1800s, and through the mid-1900s affected regional fisheries poignantly. But by the end of the 20th century it was clear that the ocean, not the unlimited food resource some had thought, was approaching its breaking point. Many species, such as Atlantic cod and herring had been pushed to the edge of extinction. The pressure on biodiversity and ecosystem function grew and kept growing. 

Aquaculture — the practice of farming seafood in the ocean as an alternative to fishing — has been offered up as a partial solution to the problem. Aquaculture is not new, but has been practiced sustainably in various forms for thousands of years. But if not scaled correctly, aquaculture faces many of the same obstacles as does land-based agriculture — pollution, ecosystem disturbance, and landscape degradation — making it hardly a panacea solution.

Ryan Nebeker is a research and policy analyst at Foodprint. Foodprint is an organization dedicated to helping people learn where their food comes from and how it impacts both social and environmental systems. One of Nebeker’s recent reports for Foodprint was a comprehensive analysis of the environmental impact of aquaculture — particularly the large-scale enterprises that he calls “Big Aquaculture.”

Aquaculture has been around for a long time, Nebeker said, and comes in many forms. But when it comes to the idea that aquaculture is a blanket solution for feeding the world, Nebeker has serious doubts.

“When you peel back the hood on how aquaculture really runs, you really run into this idea that it faces a lot of limits,” Nebeker said. “The idea that the ocean is kind of this magical freebie where you can just grow fish doesn’t really work.”

A lot of this has to do with understanding that aquaculture is not a uniform practice — there are a lot of different ways to farm seafood, and it’s important to differentiate among them. According to Nebeker, many of the species that consumers demand are considered “high input” and therefore “high impact.”

These terms refer to where a fish is in the food web. For example, Atlantic salmon is a highly valued commercial fish. But it’s high up in the food chain, meaning that in order to farm it, you have to feed it other fish. The production of fish food is something that drastically increases the environmental impact of farming Atlantic salmon.

“As a result, you end up feeding them quite a bit more than you get back in terms of usable meat,” Nebeker said.

Consuming wild-caught fish that are lower on the food chain, like sardines and anchovies, can help reduce impact. As can farming other species that have positive environmental impacts, such as seaweed and bivalves. Oysters, with their natural capacity for water filtration, give something back to the environment they grow in.

“Just get friendlier with clams, mussels, oysters — they’re so easy to cook,” Nebeker said. “Most people don’t realize they have that really light impact on the environment. And they are delicious.”

Supporting local fishing operations is another good way to reduce impact, Nebeker said, but he also recognizes that for most of the country, there’s no such thing as “local” seafood. In lieu of this, traceability is of high importance.

“One thing that has become a lot easier in the last few years is direct sales from fishermen and fishing cooperatives. Not everybody can walk down to the fish market, per se, but it’s gotten a lot easier to buy direct from fishermen. There’s a verified supply chain, you know they caught it, you know where they caught it.”

Some, like North Carolina’s Walking Fish, serve inland communities in their state. But others flash-freeze their supply and ship it to other parts of the country.

Thanks to the internet, that option is available to more of the country than it used to be. The downside, said Nebeker, is often the cost. But when the cost is low, he said, it may mean someone is cutting corners. Therefore, that cost may not manifest economically, but environmentally or socially.

In his report, Nebeker underscores the importance of viewing the ocean as a shared resource. 

“This is a resource that everyone should be able to use and access,” Nebeker said. “But they should not be able to use it in a way that damages it for other people.”

For regional fishing operations like Walking Fish, the understanding that environmental health is bound up in economic and social welfare is the basis of their business. After running for about 13 years, Walking Fish has a consistent member base that also shares these values.

“We have persevered, and have maintained a member base that benefits from the availability of fresh seafood in Raleigh-Durham but also provides a market for commercial fishermen,” said Callaway. “And for this, I’m very thankful.”

This is third in a series examining the role and sustainability of seafood in a healthy diet and is published in collaboration with North Carolina Health News.

Next in the series: What’s the economic cost of seafood and who can pay it? 

North Carolina is “shellebrating” Oyster Week Monday through Sunday

Coinciding with the start of the wild-caught oyster season, the shellebration includes engaging with oyster growers and harvesters, seafood restaurants and retail markets, recreational outfitters, coastal conservation and education organizations, and seafood festivals.

North Carolina Sea Grant, the North Carolina Coastal Federation, and the North Carolina Department of Natural and Cultural Resources are partnering with the NC Oyster Trail on the week of activities.

North Carolina Oyster Week events include cultivated and wild-caught oysters alike from new and returning participating organizations and businesses.

A full list of events is posted on the websites of the NC Oyster Trail and NCDNCR.

Crucial to North Carolina’s marine and coastal environments, oysters provide food and shelter for a variety of other animals, reduce shoreline erosion by buffering waves, filter water, and bolster a thriving shellfish industry, according to Sea Grant. Additionally, the state’s shellfish industry provided in 2019 over $27 million in economic impact and 532 jobs in the state, supporting the livelihoods of those who work the waters and sustaining traditional working waterfront communities.

“Oysters benefit our state in myriad ways. North Carolina Oyster Week events will highlight the ecology, culture, economy, and history related to this vital resource,” ” Jane Harrison, Sea Grant’s coastal economist, said in a statement. “From N.C. oyster happy hours to volunteer events on the coast to maintain living shorelines, there is something for everyone during NC Oyster Week.”

While some activities have already taken place, there are plenty of ways to celebrate the oyster across the state this month.

Oyster specials all month long Coquina Fish Bar, Wilmington. The chef will create specials during NC Oyster Week to highlight the bivalve. Every Sunday this month, the restaurant will offer $1.50 select oysters by the half or full dozen.

Tackle Box Lures: Local N.C. oysters this month at Catch Restaurant, Wilmington. “Tackle Box Lures” are North Carolina oysters prepared specially by award-winning Chef Keith Rhodes. Oysters are $2 each Tuesday through Saturday during regular business hours.

Oysters Uncovered 2-3:30 p.m. Oct. 13, Oct. 20 and Oct. 27 with the North Carolina Coastal Federation’s Wanchese office and Blue Water Grill & Raw Bar in Manteo. Ticketholders will be able to tour the federation’s demonstration oyster farm, learning about oysters and how a typical farm works, then head to to Blue Water for a half-dozen North Carolina oysters and Blue Water’s signature oyster shooter. Additional food and beverages are available for purchase, but are not included in the $50 event ticket. Tickets are on Blue Water Grill’s website.

Oyster special at Locals Seafood 11 a.m. to 8 p.m. Oct. 14, Oct. 21 and Oct. 28 at Locals Seafood, Durham Food Hall. Locals Seafood will have $2 oysters on the half shell at its Durham restaurant every Wednesday of this month.

Oyster specials all week long at Wrightsville Beach Brewery. The brewery will offer a half-dozen oysters on the half shell from Middlesound Mariculture and N. Sea Oyster Co. for $15 all week long. There will be live music 6-9 p.m. Thursday with David Dixon and Mac & Juice Duo 3 to 6 p.m. Saturday.

Oyster happy hour at Seabird 5-6 p.m. Monday, Thursday and Sunday at Seabird in Wilmington. $1 shucked oysters from North Carolina.

Oyster happy hour 2-6 p.m. Monday through Friday at Sea Level NC, Charlotte. There will be $1.50 Sea Level Salts oysters from Morris Family Shellfish Farm in Sea Level, NC. No minimums, no limits, dine in only.

N.C. Buck-a-Shuck happy hour 4-6 p.m. Monday through Thursday at Blue Water Grill & Raw Bar, Manteo. A member of the North Carolina Oyster Trail, the restaurant is having $1 select N.C. oysters during happy hour.

Half-price oysters 5-9 p.m. Tuesday through Thursday at three10, downtown Wilmington. Half-price raw and broiled oysters. No limits, dine-in only.

Grits with NC oyster gravy at Saltbox 11 a.m. to 8 p.m. Tuesday – Saturday at Saltbox Seafood Joint, Durham. Chef Ricky Moore is offering his grits and oyster gravy during shellfish week.

New River Oyster Highway open house 1-5 p.m. Thursday at Sturgeon City Education Center, Sturgeon City. Visit Sturgeon City Education Center to go on a self-paced walking tour and check out the oyster reefs from the observation deck. Educational displays and oyster experts will be on hand as well as a food truck.

Outer Banks Seafood Festival 10:30 a.m. to 6 p.m. Saturday in Nags Head. The Outer Banks Seafood Festival provides a fun educational experience promoting, honoring, and celebrating coastal seafood heritage and community.

Locals Seafood pop-up 5-8 p.m. Oct. 21 in Raleigh Wine Shop. Locals Seafood is hosting a dinner pop-up at Raleigh Wine Shop.

Oysters on the Mountain noon-4 p.m. Oct. 23 Native Prime Provisions, Cashiers. Live jazz with Tyler Kittle and a parking lot party with fresh shucked and grilled oysters. Enjoy special paired oyster & wine tastings as well as local mountain craft beers.

Fourth annual oyster roast noon-5 p.m. Oct. 30, Blue Water Grill & Raw Bar, Manteo on the docks at Mimi’s Tiki Hut. All-you-can-eat event with North Carolina oysters served raw or fire-roasted, drink specials and full menu will be available. Tickets are $45 in advance and $50 at the door.

For more information on North Carolina Oyster Week and the NC Oyster Trail visit https://ncoystertrail.org/nc-oyster-week/ or read the current issue of North Carolina Sea Grant’s Coastwatch magazine.

The term “sustainable seafood” gets used a lot with regard to the fishing and aquaculture industries — it’s a phrase that varies in meaning and is used everywhere from policy directives to marketing strategies. But what does it really mean? 

Colloquially, the term “sustainable” is often in reference to environmental impact, with regard to overfishing and making sure that meeting human demands doesn’t destroy ocean ecosystems. Commercial fisheries in the United States are regulated against overfishing, but that doesn’t mean it is not a problem — a growing demand for seafood coupled with climate change related pressures put a lot of strain on the ocean’s capacity to keep producing fish for people to consume.

Meanwhile, the world’s population continues to grow. It is currently at 8 billion and estimated to be 11.2 billion by the end of the century. This growth puts additional pressure on the ocean. Paired with limitations faced by land-based farming, researchers have pointed to the ocean as a possible venue for growable food in light of this trend. In 2020, the United Nations released a report saying that aquaculture had already improved food security globally. Still, this conversation is not without an important caveat — farming seafood is not a panacea solution, and there are many forms of aquaculture that can harm both the environment and local communities instead of benefiting them. 

When it comes to the human diet, the ocean is a potential resource for “good” food. We have long known about the health benefits associated with incorporating fish into your weekly diet — they are abundant in healthy fats, amino acids and other things that help our bodies function well. In the U.S. Department of Agriculture and U.S. Department of Health and Human Services’ 2020 report of dietary recommendations, a document the agencies release every five years, there’s an emphasis on the importance of consuming high-quality seafood across age groups and demographic populations.

The trouble with that has long been that seafood remains one of the most difficult proteins to acquire at an affordable price point. Economically speaking, the wild-caught seafood industry provides North Carolina with 5,500 jobs and brings in $300 million in value to the state. But when we talk about this economic benefit, to the state and to the country beyond, which communities are being cut out of the picture due to economic or physical access? Who is inadvertently excluded from conversations about “sustainable seafood”?

One understanding of sustainability is that for something to be sustainable, it has to be supported by three pillars of economic, social and environmental strength. When we try to figure out if seafood has a place in a sustainable future, all three of those aspects must be evaluated. In this special series, which is a joint product of North Carolina Health News and Coastal Review, we will look at each of these pillars closely. 

Next, this series will examine the environmental impacts of both aquaculture and commercial fisheries, and how those industries may have to change or adapt in order to be practical in a changing world. We will also examine who can afford to eat seafood, and provides a mosaic look at North Carolina’s subsistence fishers. And finally, the series looks at the social mechanisms of supply and demand, education, labeling and representation. There will be overlap among these three stories, as the issues are impossible to truly extricate from each other. 

This series follows the White House Conference on Hunger, Nutrition, and Health, held Sept. 28. The conference sought to investigate how to end hunger, reduce diet-related diseases and disparities and improve nutrition for the country. The only other time that this conference has been held was in 1969, more than 50 years ago. The ways that hunger and nutrition play out in American society have changed dramatically in the last half century. Conversations around climate, conservation, social equity and business have all evolved. 

Seafood, and the important role it plays in our diets and our economies is no exception. The remainder of this series will examine the role the seafood industry plays in North Carolina’s food supply, how it has evolved to this point, and what it will look like in the future.

This is second in a series examining the role and sustainability of seafood in a healthy diet and is published in collaboration with North Carolina Health News. Next in the series: The seafood footprint.

President Joe Biden last week introduced a plan to end hunger in the United States and increase healthy eating and physical activity by 2030.

The 44-page National Strategy On Hunger, Nutrition, And Health identifies what White House officials called “ambitious and achievable actions” the administration will pursue across five pillars: improving food access and affordability, integrating nutrition and health, empowering all consumers to make and have access to healthy choices, supporting physical activity for all and enhancing nutrition and food security research.

The strategy document was released Sept. 27 in conjunction with the White House Conference on Hunger, Nutrition, and Health held Sept. 28, in Washington, D.C.

The conference was the first such event in five decades, as Biden noted in his remarks. Richard Nixon had convened the first White House nutrition conference that “led to a transformational change that has helped millions of Americans live healthier lives for generations,” Biden said.

“Since that time, advances in research and medicine have taught us so much more about nutrition and health,” the president said, adding that he had convened the conference because he believed the advances will make America a stronger and a healthier nation.

Republicans pointed to an ongoing external review of the Food and Drug Administration’s food safety inspection practices, which was requested earlier this year by the agency chief in response to criticism regarding its oversight, and said the conference should have been more bipartisan.

“At a time when food prices continue to soar under record-high inflation rates, and while an external investigation into FDA’s food safety centers—ordered by FDA Commissioner Califf himself—remains underway, it is critical this process involve all appropriate policymakers and stakeholders in any policy goals emerging from the Conference,” top Republicans said Sept. 21 in a letter to the White House.

Key principles focus on access

The White House strategy is based on three key principles: Helping Americans access the food that will keep their families nourished and healthy, providing options and information needed to make healthy dietary choices, and helping more Americans be physically active, Biden explained.

According to the plan, nearly 40 million Americans lack nearby grocery stores with affordable and healthy food options and have no access to transit to get there. Oftentimes, those with limited access to affordable, nutritious food tend to be lower-income and people of color.

In 2021, one in 10 households experienced food insecurity, meaning their access to food was limited by lack of money or other resources. Nearly 4% of households experienced very low food security, which means they were skipping meals regularly or cutting back on how much they ate because they could not afford more food. 

Diet-related diseases are some of the leading causes of death and disability in the U.S., according to the strategy. Findings show that 19 states and two territories have an obesity prevalence at or above 35%, more than double the number of states from 2018. One in 10 Americans have diabetes, one in three will have cancer in their lifetime, and more than four in 10 have high blood pressure, which is linked to heart disease and stroke.

Children in low-income families typically have fewer opportunities to be physically active because of lesser access to safe streets and playgrounds.

Hunger and diet-related diseases are not distributed equally. “These challenges disproportionately impact communities of color, people living in rural areas, people living in territories, people with disabilities, older adults, LGBTQI+ people, military families, and Veterans,” according to the plan.

Biden said the plan “recognizes the critical role that nutrition plays in our health and our healthcare system, and it acknowledges that we have to give families the tools to keep them healthy.” 

The proposed actions under the plan’s five pillars for combating hunger and diet-related illnesses include increasing access to free school meals and food during the summer for more children, updating nutritional labeling, expanding incentives for fruits and vegetables for Supplemental Nutrition Assistance Program, or SNAP, recipients, increasing access to outdoor spaces, and providing more funding to research nutrition and food security policy, mostly on equity and access issues.

To help Americans learn to make healthy food choices, the plan proposes funding public education campaigns, nutrition education and support for Medicare recipients, expanding nutrition education for children and for older adults, offering low-income housing grantees nutritional assistant programs, and supporting regular updates to the Dietary Guidelines for Americans.

Biden said that more than 100 different organizations and businesses have committed more than $8 billion to help reach the plan’s goals.

Commitments include $2.5 billion invested in start-up companies developing solutions to hunger and food insecurity, and more than $4 billion is to be dedicated toward philanthropy to improve access to nutritious food, promote healthy choices and increase physical activity, according to an administration handout.

Among the organizations to commit is the Seafood Nutrition Partnership. The nonprofit focused on building awareness of the health and nutritional benefits of seafood said it will invest a minimum of $280,000 over the next eight years to improve public knowledge of essential nutrition that has been shown to improve brain health. The partnership plans an “eating for brain health” program to educate pregnant individuals on the nutrients required to reduce preterm birth risk and foster healthy early brain development. The group is to conduct research to measure and map Omega-3 fatty acid deficiencies across the country to prioritize the roll-out of its education programs to the areas of greatest need.

The Blue Cross and Blue Shield of North Carolina Foundation has committed to launch a two-year, $3.5 million effort to increase access to healthy food and grow the “food is medicine” movement in the state. The foundation said it would fund and facilitate partnerships between health care providers and community-based organizations to provide a range of services from food vouchers to medically tailored meals.

Other organizations that have committed include AARP and AARP Foundation to expand research on older adults’ access to SNAP and use the research to improve SNAP enrollment rates for older adults, and the Wave Foundation for an equity and climate marketplace to connect underrepresented food producers – people of color and women – with large-scale food service and retail outlets nationwide.

Agriculture Secretary Tom Vilsack called the national strategy a defining moment.

“It sets us on a path to end hunger, enhance nutrition, and improve health outcomes in this country. This strategy compiles recommendations from dozens of listening sessions held over the summer,” he said in a statement.

Public Health Institute Senior Vice President of Programs, Public Policy and Government Relations Matthew Marsom called the plan sustainable and effective and said it was grounded in research, focused on equity, and addresses the systemic causes of hunger, poor nutrition and diet-related chronic disease.

“The White House agenda acknowledges the upstream issues that contribute to food security, especially accessibility and affordability. It calls for addressing poverty by increasing the minimum wage, fully funding the childcare tax credit and expanding the earned income tax credit,” Marsom said. “It also underscores the role of culturally rooted practices as a critical piece of accessibility, including investing in a nutrition workforce that looks like, and comes from the communities it serves.”

The Alliance to End Hunger also commended the plan.

“This strategy is a beacon lighting the road we must now take,” Eric Mitchell, executive director of the Alliance to End Hunger, said in a statement. “We look forward to discussing these ideas and recommendations with the White House and Congress to promote greater equity, improve access to nutritious foods, and ultimately ensure that every American has food on the table every day.”

Developing recommendations

The Task Force on Hunger, Nutrition, and Health, a nongovernment, nonpartisan group, had worked through the summer to develop recommendations for the plan. “Informing the White House Conference: Ambitious, Actionable Recommendations to End Hunger, Advance Nutrition, and Improve Health in the United States,” was released Aug. 23 and provided to the White House ahead of the conference.

The task force noted in a press release that its recommendations had not been formally requested nor endorsed by the White House, but organizers applauded Biden’s leadership and the national strategy.

“The work to fix these issues cannot happen in a day, but guided by this national strategy and the non-partisan spirit of the Conference — supported by Congressional leaders from both sides of the aisle — it can and will happen,” organizers said. “We stand ready to support policymakers, industry, academia, advocacy organizations, and the entire broad community of people who are deeply invested in solving these crises in bringing this vision to life; the next phase of work for all of us begins now to ensure continued energy and attention on these critical issues and implementation of this national strategy for systemic change.”

Appeal for bipartisanship

In announcing the plan, Biden stressed the importance of a bipartisan approach to reach its goals. Republicans said they will ensure the result is sound policy but criticized the process.

Top Republicans wrote Sept. 21 to Domestic Policy Council Director Susan Rice asserting that the conference that “began with a promise to engage stakeholders in a bipartisan process has deteriorated into a partisan gathering lacking the direction and clarity needed to drive significant, long-lasting change.”

For the conference policy recommendations to be considered bipartisan, Republicans wrote, the White House should have meaningfully engaged a variety of stakeholders, including congressional colleagues from both sides of the aisle at all stages.

The letter was signed by Rep. Glenn “G.T.” Thompson, R-Pa., who sits on the Agriculture Committee; Virginia Foxx, R-N.C., who sits on Education and Labor Committee; Rep. Cathy McMorris Rodgers, R-Wash., from the Energy and Commerce Committee; James Comer R-Ky., of the Oversight and Reform Committee; and Rep. Andy Harris, R-Md., from the Subcommittee on Agriculture Appropriation.

The Republicans promised “an active oversight role, given our seats on committees of jurisdiction over the recommendations likely to stem from the Conference as Congress and the administration deliberate how to move forward to ensure we are all supporting the goals of ending hunger and improving nutrition in ways that make sound policy sense for all Americans.”

This is the first in a series examining the role and sustainability of seafood in a healthy diet and is published in collaboration with North Carolina Health News. Next in the series: What does “sustainable seafood” mean?

“Local” qualifies as one of the most overused words of the early 2000s. So commonplace then on restaurant menus, in food markets and in food media, “local” became a dubious descriptor even co-opted by nonfood companies (local landscaping anyone?). All the hyperbole culminated in “Farm to Fable,” an investigative series that earned journalist Laura Reiley a Pulitzer Prize nomination for exposing misleading claims around local food. 

That’s too bad because eating local still matters at a deeper level than the cliché “local” leads us to believe.

“Eating is never as simple as we might imagine,” writes author and editor Marcie Cohen Ferris as she introduces 20 leading activists, chefs, farmers, entrepreneurs, scholars and others in the food realm who penned essays for her new book “Edible North Carolina: A Journey Across a State of Flavor.”

The writers Ferris unites demonstrate the complexity, reach and significant impacts of local food in North Carolina. They extend stereotypical farm-to-table’s narrow boundaries out to what Ferris calls “the story of the contemporary food landscape.”

“Edible North Carolina” presents a panorama that encompasses the state’s food history, heritage and Indigenous and regional tastes like the Lumbee Tribe’s collard sandwiches in Robeson County and Down East commercial fishers’ favorite wild-caught scallop fritters. New voices broaden local flavors and concentrate food activism on today’s issues of access, equality, sustainability, reconnection, diversity and inclusivity.

“When I arrived in Cary and became the first Latina food columnist for the local newspaper, the resistance to my voice was swift,” Sandra A. Gutierrez writes in her “Edible North Carolina” essay. She recalls a subscriber in the mid-1980s upset that “her beloved paper had chosen a ‘Mexican’ as the writer for its food section.”

“Had I capitulated to this racism, I would not have witnessed the birth of a new culinary movement in the region. I embraced the culinary traditions of my southern white and Black readers but at the same time found my passion to introduce them to a global world of flavor.”

Baby steps like pulled pork tacos and chipotle in barbecue sauce that Gutierrez and others helped guide over the years led to a 2022 James Beard best chef southeast award nomination for Indian-born Cheetie Kumar of Raleigh’s acclaimed Garland. The restaurant’s Indian and Asian flavors and techniques are “driven by in-season ingredients from our home in Raleigh,” Kumar writes in “Edible North Carolina.”

Population migration has shaped North Carolina’s food landscape since the beginning. Ferris, a southern-foodways-focused professor emerita of American studies at the University of North Carolina Chapel Hill, traces the state’s “edible history” from Indigenous people to African, English, Scottish, Irish, European and more influences. The mix is responsible for the state’s distinctive and nationally celebrated flavor — North Carolina took three James Beard Awards in 2022. That food scene nurtures understanding and acceptance of immigrant populations.

That’s good news, but behind the scenes, local food culture is ailing.

Lack of food access, poor pay for food industry workers, big agriculture consuming small farms and the fragility of centralized food supply chains are just some symptoms. The COVID pandemic, climate change, political divisions and the immigration crisis have magnified problems that are affecting the “economic livelihoods of thousands of North Carolinians in ways unimaginable in the past,” Ferris writes.

“Now more than ever we viscerally understand what it means to lose local farms, entrepreneurs, food markets, food banks, school cafeterias, beloved neighborhood restaurants and landmark food venues.”

“Edible North Carolina” contributors take readers through a range of unsettling emotions as they describe what is being lost but then lift them up with exciting changes driven by the many challenges.

Carla Norwood and Gabe Cummings offer a heartbreaking account of how Warren County’s once-thriving farm economy has declined over the past 50 years, including the farm that has been in Norwood’s family for generations. Residents who long had access to fresh, healthy, local food face decreasing numbers of supermarkets. Just two remain in the entire 444-square-mile county. Tiny downtown Warrenton alone hosted four bustling food markets 100 years ago.

As agriculture has waned, so have job opportunities. The poverty rate is high; a quarter of the population is food insecure.

“All the cues from the modern world seem to say: leave this place behind; go to a city with high-paying jobs where you can shop at upscale supermarkets and eat in trendsetting restaurants,” Norwood and Cummings write.

“Dislocation” of local food economies, as Norwood and Cummings term it, has impacted commercial fishers as much as farmers. In 2000, Carteret County watermen faced intense competition from cheaper, inferior and unsafe imported seafood, cultural preservationist Karen Willis Amspacher, executive director of the Core Sound Waterfowl Museum and Heritage Center on Harkers Island, writes in her piece about North Carolina’s local seafood movement. Fish houses faded as pricey waterfront development overtook communities and blocked entry to public waters.

Instead of giving up, Norwood, Cummings and Carteret County families did exactly what Ferris said she hopes “Edible North Carolina” inspires readers to do: support and help rebuild local food systems that will assure food sovereignty for everyone.

“I really hope that people think about two things maybe: joy and justice,” Ferris says.

“I want people to understand their power as eaters in the state of North Carolina, as people who buy and consume foods and impact the health of their community. I think when you read this book you can start feeling what are the small ways you can help rebuild your little landscape.”

Norwood and Cummings in 2010 founded a nonprofit that connects diverse farmers and food entrepreneurs with new markets. The organization also repurposes abandoned spaces for local food processing.

Commercial fishing families organized Carteret Catch to brand local seafood, show consumers why it was better, and prove to restaurant professionals that diners were willing to pay more for it. Seafood sales increased, and more Catch groups formed along the coast.

Without that local catch and traditional seafood preparations he grew up eating in New Bern’s African American community, chef Ricky Moore would not have won a 2022 best chef southeast James Beard award for his work at Saltbox Seafood Joint in Durham. The restaurant’s devotion to local foodways helped put North Carolina on the national culinary map.

“The backbone of my business – North Carolina fish and seafood – is sourced from local fishermen and women,” Moore writes in “Edible North Carolina.”

“As a son of this place, it is my mission to uplift the fisherfolk who tend its waters and share its seafood bounty.”

“Edible North Carolina” grew from Ferris’ classroom teachings on southern and North Carolina food culture. As students listened to guest lecturers like Amspacher and collected oral histories, the need for those voices to be collected in a serious tome emerged. Still, every “Edible North Carolina” essay ends on a light note, a recipe that reflects the writer or subject’s food journey.

Norwood and Cummings share a Warren County resident’s classic sweet potato pie. Anthropologist Courtney Lewis, concerned with the loss of Indigenous foodways, offers tuya gadu, a Cherokee bean bread. First-generation Southerner chef Oscar Diaz contributes BrunsMex Stew with black beans, cilantro and fresh tomato salsa.

Recipes were important to include, Ferris says, because they “speak to a moment. They speak to history …To many generations of family.” A recipe “communicates to us in another language,” she says.

That language is one that everyone understands because everyone must eat. Cooking leads to meals, and meals can stir conversation about what local food really means and the many lives it touches. Over dinner, we might consider numerous ways to help — shopping at the neighborhood seafood market, volunteering to pull weeds at an urban farm, checking supermarket produce sections for local vegetables, lobbying lawmakers, starting a movement.

“Edible North Carolina” makes us realize that we must never let “local food” be relegated to one more meaningless marketing campaign.

Reprinted from North Carolina Health News

Growing nutritious food almost seems like magic. You plant a seed in the soil, add water and sun and food with the potential to sustain life grows. 

But only if the soil has nutrients to support that life. Depleted soils lead to nutrient-deficient foods and yield less produce than healthy soils. 

This is an important point to consider as nearly 11% of U.S. households are food insecure, or lack consistent access to adequate quantities of nutritious food, according to a 2020 USDA report. Additionally, Feeding America estimates that one in five children in North Carolina face hunger. 

While many factors contribute to food insecurity such as affordability and access to nutritious food, degraded soils threaten to exacerbate the global food crisis. In 2020, between 720 to 811 million people went hungry, according to a report by the United Nations.  

Soil degradation happens when land is stripped of trees and other vegetation, leaving the soil exposed to the elements – heat, wind, rain. Over time, the soil will dry out, leach nutrients, and erode. This will also lead to a loss of carbon dioxide sequestration, which is the process by which trees remove CO2 from the air and store it in the soil through photosynthesis.

As summer and hurricane season start and experts forecast higher temperatures over the Southeast with more intense storms, maintaining the quality of soils will be a fundamental task for North Carolinians to keep their crops healthy and health-producing. 

That means paying attention to what’s in the state’s soils. 

Garbage in, garbage out

While increased amounts of atmospheric CO2 could be beneficial to certain plants such as sugar cane and Bermuda grass, it threatens to reduce the yields of many of the agricultural staples grown in North Carolina such as soybeans, corn and sweet potatoes, according to Bob Patterson, a crop sciences professor in N.C. State University’s Department of Crop and Soil Sciences.

“If (certain crops are) growing in an environment where the temperature is high at night, and some of the precious carbon that was fixed photosynthetically in the daytime is lost from the crop(s) at night (due to respiration), it is not available for yield and quality purposes,” Patterson said.

Degraded soils can occur due to unsustainable agricultural practices, even without the impact of climate change, but climate change can accelerate soil decline, according to a 2019 special report by the Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change (IPCC).

“The greater the amount of organic matter in the soil, the more likely that soil will be healthy in ways that increase or, maintain as fully as possible, that fraction of the total water in the soil that is plant available,” Patterson said. 

Nutrient-poor soils can be improved by adding organics, which promote an environment where microorganisms such as earthworms can thrive. Earthworms improve soil drainage by burrowing down in the subsoil, which creates pockets for moisture and air to flow. They also feed on organic material such as leaves and grass clippings, for instance, and produce nutrient-rich waste that is readily available to crops. 

Improving soil health is the one thing that is within a farmer’s control to mitigate the potential effects of climate change on food production.

The North Carolina Climate Risk and Resilience Plan, produced by the Department of Environmental Quality in 2020, also stresses the benefits of healthy soils on the environment.

“Healthy soils will also increase soil water holding capacity, reduce soil erosion, reduce stormwater runoff, reduce pollutant loading of waterways, sequester carbon, and reduce reliance on synthetic fertilizers and irrigation to establish and maintain constructed greenscapes.”

Farmer resources

While resources and technical support for farmers vary by country, U.S. farmers have access to experts and advice at the county, state and national levels. The USDA’s cooperative extension service is a federal, state and county-supported program to “improve the quality of people’s lives by providing research-based knowledge to strengthen the social, economic and environmental well-being of families, communities and agriculture.” In addition to county extension agents, there are nonprofit organizations that offer support services to North Carolina farmers.

Amanda Egdorf-Sand is the executive director of the North Carolina Foundation for Soil and Water Conservation, whose mission is to promote, protect and improve North Carolina soil and water resources. 

“North Carolina’s largest industry is agriculture and agribusiness, and so there is a significant amount of technical and financial assistance provided to farmers through public and private funding,” Egdorf-Sand said, “to support immediate and long-term on-farm goals that ultimately sustains this strong agricultural economy.”

The foundation supports farmers through a program called Agriculture Cost Share Program. Through this program, “farmers have access to cost-share funding to support on-farm natural resource conservation to improve water quality,” said Egdorf-Sand. 

One practice promoted to support the organization’s water conservation efforts is no-till or conservation tillage, which is “any tillage and planting system that covers 30 percent or more of the soil surface with crop residue, after planting, to reduce soil erosion by water.”

According to Egdorf-Sand, in fiscal year 2021, farmers who participated in ACSP saved nearly 60,000 tons of topsoil. She added, “Since ACSP’s inception in 1984, the practices implemented through the program have saved nearly 8 million tons of soil.”

To till or not to till

Another nonprofit organization that provides support to farmers in the Carolinas is the Carolina Farm Stewardship Association (CFSA), whose mission is to advocate, educate, and build connections to create sustainable food systems in the Carolinas centered on local and organic agriculture, according to its mission statement.

As the CFSA Farm Services Manager, Mark Dempsey’s job includes working with growers to develop conservation strategies designed to “improve soil management and prevent erosion,” he said. 

Dempsey, like the other exports, feels that, at least in the U.S., farming soils are in good shape, generally speaking. Nonetheless, he believes there are areas for improvement.

“The main thing that degrades soil organic matter is getting in there with the plow and the disk,” he said. 

No-till farming is an approach that minimizes soil erosion, promotes the accumulation of organic matter, and helps soil hold onto moisture longer because it is not directly exposed to the sun and wind, for instance. While beneficial in many ways, no-till farming can be an obstacle for organic farmers.

“The no tillers of the world use herbicides and, as an organization that tries to promote alternatives to that, (it’s a) conflict for us.” 

While acknowledging the dilemma that organic farmers face when weighing the pros and cons of no-till agriculture, Dempsey believes there is cause for optimism.

“But the cool and interesting thing … is that there’s been some recent research to show that, [yes], we degrade soil if we till it. But if we add back a ton of organic matter, it can bounce back pretty quickly.”

Dempsey stressed, however, that we need to produce a lot more organic matter than is currently available to improve soils on a global scale.

Cover cropping is another weapon in the fight against soil degradation. 

“We want a winter cover crop on the land to protect the soil from being damaged by bad weather,” Patterson said.

At the N.C. State College of Agriculture and Life Sciences Lake Wheeler Field Laboratory, which “offers nearly 1,500 acres for teaching, research and extension,” according to its website, extensive research is being done on how cover crops can improve soil health, Patterson said.

“If we protect our soil and try our best to maintain soil health … that’s the best way to address climate change issues. There is no question that climate change is affecting the health of our crops, both yield and quality.”

This article first appeared on North Carolina Health News and is republished here under a Creative Commons license. Coastal Review partners with North Carolina Health News to provide our readers with more news of the North Carolina coast.

Tater Day at Island Farm on Roanoke Island will celebrate all aspects of harvesting and cooking of the Irish potato

Festivities are from 10 a.m. to 2 p.m. Wednesday, June 15.

Visitors will join historic interpreters to dig potatoes from the farm’s gardens and check out the cookhouse and enjoy kettle-fried potato chips made with freshly harvested Island Farm potatoes.

“Tater Day” is part of Island Farm’s historic food series, which highlights local food traditions and culture year-round. Also part of this historic food series is the farm’s annual “Garden to Hearth” event, held the Wednesday before Thanksgiving.

Island Farm is a living history site that engages with locals and visitors alike to share Outer Banks history, through the lens of a working, mid-19th century farm when just over 500 people lived on Roanoke Island.

In 1850, Adam Etheridge raised 200 bushels of corn, 50 bushels of field peas, 100 bushels of sweet potatoes and 20 bushels of Irish potatoes, all on 15 acres of his then-420-acre farm, now the current-day site of Island Farm on Roanoke Island.

Admission to the event is the regular cost to visit Island Farm: $10 for 4 and older. There’s no charge for children younger than 3.

Island Farm is owned and operated by the nonprofit Outer Banks Conservationists, which was founded in 1980 to protect natural, cultural and historic resources through preservation and conservation, public education, interpretation and outreach. To learn more, visit www.obcinc.org

Janet Gillikin, 82, can’t help but tell the story again, laughing the whole way through. “I’ll never forget it my whole life.”  

She and Sonny Boy Stacy were children playing on a fish-house dock on their native Harkers Island when Gillikin suggested they race to shore. Running hard as he could, “Sonny Boy started swerving to the side,” Gillikin said. “And he fell right into the water.”

Judging by Stacy’s wailing, Gillikin was sure the boy had slammed into bags of hard clams fishermen stored under water, but when Gillikin asked if he was hurt, Stacy said no.

“Then why are you screaming?’” Gillikin asked, to which Stacy cried, “Because I got my chewing gum wet.”

With its glimpse of island life, Gillikin’s tale is more than a humorous anecdote, just like “Island Born and Bred,” the cookbook that records the story, is more than a recipe collection. Back on store shelves after a two-year hiatus, “Island Born and Bred” is not just Harkers Island’s community cookbook. It’s a definitive history told by the people.

“You can hear their voices in a very intimate, community kind of way,” said historian David Cecelski, who uses “Island Born and Bred” to teach history classes at Duke University and the University of North Carolina Chapel Hill.

“If I had to pick 10 books on the folklife on the North Carolina coast for any time period ever, that cookbook would be on it.”

Recipes were an excuse

“Island Born and Bred” was never intended to be a scholarly text. “It is our attempt to tell the people who come and look that there is more to this Island than a weekend retreat or a Sunday afternoon drive. This is our home,” the book’s editor Karen Amspacher read from the hand-typed, black-and-white pages.

In 1987, Amspacher suggested the Harkers Island United Methodist Women craft a cookbook to fund its ministry’s good deeds. Not long from college work as an oral history transcriber, the Harkers Island native was certain that if somebody didn’t record stories she and others had heard their whole lives, those firsthand accounts would be lost forever. Amspacher envisioned recipes as merely the hook drawing readers into narratives. Some of her fellow Methodist Women weren’t so sure.

“I thought it was outrageous,” said Gillikin, who was Harkers Island United Methodist Women president at the time. She believed, “There are too many cookbooks out there. Everybody has 10 or 12 cookbooks. What do we need with another cookbook?”  

The ladies eventually came around, and “Island Born and Bred” ended up a cookbook people did need. People everywhere. Plans in 1987 to print just 500 copies of a 200-page book turned into the sale of 10,000 copies of a nearly 400-pager by the end of 1988 and thousands more shipped far and wide over the next 33 years.

From the beginning

Harkers Island residents put their hearts into the endeavor, sharing 625 recipes from old-timey classics like Fried Clams with Gravy to contemporary Microwave Swiss Steak. Stories, facts, poems and folklore came handwritten on napkins, slips of paper and legal pads or told to the United Methodist Women, who tape recorded and transcribed exactly what they heard.

An entire dictionary devoted to “Island Talk” listed terms like “I shan’t” (I shall not) and “slick cam” (slick calm) written phonetically, giving voice to the distinctive Harkers Island brogue.

Time and again, contributors honored determined ancestors who relied on their wits to thrive on nearby ribbons of sand — Shackleford Banks, Core Banks, Diamond City, Cape Lookout — places that afforded inhabitants freedom, togetherness, a bounty of seafood and stunning landscapes akin to heaven on earth.  

The book’s simple sketches, done by local artists, depict long-gone island scenes like boatbuilders at work, nets hung near once-numerous fish houses and a bonnet-crowned grandmother sitting on the “pizer,” an island word for “porch.”

Illustrations based on actual photographs included a poignant moving-day scene. The original circa 1911 photograph measured only about an inch square but still captured Clem and Louise Hancock on Shackleford Banks driving a horse-drawn wagon full of their belongings to more stable ground. Relocating became common. The “Island Beginnings” chapter traces Harkers Islanders’ lineage from pre-1650 settlements on outlying barrier islands to late-1800s hurricanes that forced residents to begrudgingly float their homes on boats across the sounds to fresh starts on Harkers Island.

Day after day, the United Methodist Women gathered stories and recipes. Every written word was hand-typed by volunteer Ruth Paylor on an IBM Selectric typewriter. Each page had to be perfect, no Wite-Out allowed because it would show up as a blob on the stat camera that print shop workers used to transfer Paylor’s typing to printing plates.

Pages arrived at the church fellowship hall in random lots, pages 53-86 one day, 95-175 another. “We had a room full of fish boxes stacked with batches,” Amspacher said. For weeks, the women collated pages by spreading them out in numerical order on a maze of tables across the fellowship hall. Volunteers wound the labyrinth, picking up page after page until a full book was assembled at the end.

“And they started reading the pages,” Amspacher said.

As the women navigated, they saw friends’ recipes, familiar tales and names of places long gone.

The maze ended at a hand-operated, book-binding machine the women borrowed from the print shop. Stacks of pages had to be carefully placed so that the 15 perforations on each sheet aligned perfectly with the plastic ring binder.

“We put together the first book, and we cried,” Amspacher said, fighting back tears. “We cried because we knew in our hearts, even though we didn’t want to admit it to each other, that Harkers Island was gone.”

A promise to never forget

Harkers Island quickly changed from a remote coastal fishing village in the early and mid-1900s to a tourist haven by the time the book project started. “I think my generation was the last to know it as it was,” Amspacher said.

“Island Born and Bred” held local culture for the ages.

In 1989, the book won the North Carolina Society of Historians’ Award of Merit “for its contribution to the preservation of North Carolina history.” It spawned more Harkers Island historic journals written by residents and helped inspire Harkers Island’s popular Core Sound Waterfowl Museum and Heritage Center. ABC’s “Good Morning America,” Good Housekeeping magazine, local television shows, numerous newspaper articles and glowing reviews all featured the work.

The United Methodist Women shipped orders to England, Canada, Australia, the Caribbean and every state in the U.S.

“I got a call from somebody in Billings, Montana, one night,” Amspacher recalled. “She said she had never seen the ocean but that she really appreciated the community because it reminded her of home.”

Even Harkers Islanders were moved, way more than they expected. After the book’s release, initially skeptical residents realized “Island Born and Bred” was special.  

“I’ll be looking at it and I’ll stumble on a story and get to reading it and forget all about the recipe,” said Dean Johnson, whose grandmother Nannie Raye Poole’s recipes appear throughout the book.

Johnson regularly taps her stained and tattered copy. Most recently, he prepared Poole’s time-consuming Conch Stew, page 194, for a neighbor wishing she could taste it again.

The rubbery shellfish must be pounded for at least an hour to tenderize the meat. As he talked, Johnson craved his late grandmother’s Fried Clam Fritters, page 190, that required fresh clams be gutted and then washed three times to remove grit. He launched into a story about Poole spending all day Saturday preparing Stewed Hard Crabs, pages 198 and 199.

“She started by catching and cleaning the crabs,” Johnson said, and ended by adding the island’s signature cornmeal dumplings.

Reading and rereading has convinced Johnson to gather loved ones more regularly, as Poole always did, to share local favorites, including the true Harkers Island Oyster Roast, page 206, he planned for the weekend. Like his ancestors, Johnson would cook wild oysters over a wood fire and serve them with Fried Cornbread, page 78, sour pickles and cold Pepsi.

“The heritage of it just makes me feel proud to be from where I am,” Johnson said, “and of those people who paved the way.”  

Over the years, “Island Born and Bred” did more than inspire. Proceeds helped many people in need, including North Carolina families economically devastated by a 1987 toxic red tide that closed commercial fishing; South Carolina victims of 1989’s Hurricane Hugo; and a Morehead City family who suffered a kitchen fire days before Christmas.

Profits continue to sustain Harkers Island United Methodist Church and its ministry work, the Rev. Lee Pittard said. Church leaders plan another printing soon. Amspacher expected the several hundred books released this fall to sell out before Christmas.

“But how many have been sold and how much money has been made is immaterial,” Amspacher said. “I can go through the book and tell you every one of the people, what their story is, who they were, what they’d been though.”

“This cookbook was Harkers Island promise to never forget.”

Wanda Willis’ Hurricane Cake

Wanda Willis’ “‘Hurricane Cake Recipe’ was recognized by Good Housekeeping magazine in 1989 and helped make the ‘Harkers Island cookbook a best-seller nationwide, and her ‘stew-beef-and-rutabagas’ helped build the Core Sound Museum,” according to her obituary. “Her kitchen table welcomed many traveling preachers, MYF groups, ballplayers, family members, and friends from far and wide to enjoy her cooking and hospitality.” Willis was “Island Born and Bred” cookbook editor Karen Amspacher’s mother.

Hurricane Oatmeal Cake
1 cup oatmeal
1¼ cups boiling water
2 eggs
1 cup brown sugar
1 cup granulated sugar
1/2 cup vegetable oil
1½ cups flour
1 teaspoon baking soda
1 teaspoon salt
1 teaspoon cinnamon

Combine oatmeal and boiling water; set aside. Beat together eggs, sugars and oil until blended. Add sifted flour, baking soda, salt and cinnamon. Add oatmeal mixture.

Pour into a greased 9-by-13-inch baking pan. Bake at 350 degrees for 30-35 minutes.

Topping:
1 cup coconut
1 cup brown sugar
6 tablespoons melted margarine (see cook’s note)
1/2 cup chopped pecans
1/4 cup evaporated milk
Cook’s note: Butter works just as well in this recipe.

Mix together topping ingredients until moist. Spread over cake. Broil until topping is light brown and crunchy, about 2 minutes.

A new initiative to put Wilmington and southeastern North Carolina on the map as a leader in the blue economy – trades and industry dependent on marine resources — makes its public debut during All Blue Week, Nov. 2-6.

The Alliance for the Blue Economy, also called “All Blue,” based its mission on the World Bank’s definition of blue economy, “the sustainable use of ocean resources for economic growth, improved livelihoods and jobs, while preserving the health of the ocean ecosystem.”

The University of North Carolina Wilmington’s Center for Innovation and Entrepreneurship launched Sept. 28 All Blue, which is made up of an advisory board of science and business leaders who focus on attracting, advising and launching businesses in the blue economy, according to the website.

During All Blue Week, more than a dozen sessions, seminars, recreational opportunities and tours are planned around Wilmington and on UNCW’s main and marine science campuses, including the Nov. 6 Hack for a Blue Economy, or Hackathon, co-sponsored with Cape Fear Collective. There’s no charge to attend most events, but organizers recommend registering in advance.

All Blue Advisor Kim Nelson told Coastal Review that the All Blue team has worked for years to identify areas of the blue economy relevant to southeastern North Carolina. Those identified include coastal resilience, hospitality, recreation, tourism, sustainable aquaculture and fisheries, biotechnology, and engineering and robotics.

Related: UNCW Center kicks off ocean-focused economic initiative

 “We are hosting the All Blue Week and All Blue Hackathon to bring people together to learn more and think about how they might get involved,” she said.

Deborah Westphal, author of the new book, “Convergence: Technology, Business and the Human-Centric Future,” kicks off All Blue Week Nov. 2 with an opening address, and the week closes with the all-day Hackathon on Nov. 6. As its name implies, the Hackathon is geared toward techy types of all skillsets and covers how data can inform the sustainable use of ocean resources for economic growth while preserving the ocean ecosystem. Register online to attend the Hackathon in Wilmington or join virtually.

Nelson and fellow Hackathon organizer Nick Pylypiw, who is director of data science at Cape Fear Collective, explained in an email response to Coastal Review that the goal for the Hackathon is twofold.

First, they hope to educate the local technology and scientific community on some of the challenges and data sources around the blue economy. “By raising awareness of these local economic challenges, we hope to foster increased focus on data collection and analysis, as well as policy and recommendations,” they wrote.

Second, the output from the Hackathon, such as code, visualizations, recommendations and data can help to build a foundation of community resources for future work within the blue economy.

“This sort of event can be a catalyst for change, sparking the imagination of the community and creating momentum to build sustainable economic outcomes,” they wrote.

Nelson and Pylypiw said they want Hackathon attendees to leave with a better understanding of the blue economy and why it’s crucial for the region. They want it to spark interest for future events and collaborations.

The Hackathon team spent years working on a strategy and a consistent message about the blue economy.

“We have been looking for ways to engage a larger audience and to start to map currently available datasets specific to the blue economy,” Pylypiw and Nelson wrote in the email.

One member of the All Blue team brought up the idea after a hackathon held by the Cape Fear Collective in April that was specific to affordable housing. All Blue then reached out to Cape Fear Collective about collaborating.

“Fortunately for us, they had an interest in coastal resilience and the partnership was born,” Nelson said.

Cape Fear Collective, founded in 2019, brought together corporate, nonprofit and municipal entities in the aftermath of Hurricane Florence and two main themes emerged as gaps in the nonprofit world.

“The first need was data. Organizations needed it to be hyper local, timely, and easier to action to better distribute resources based on its insights. The second need in the nonprofit community was more funding,” they wrote, noting that revenues for the region’s nonprofits had historically lagged peer regions in the state on a per capita basis, “often amid a more dire need and frequent natural disasters.”

The collective created a localized nonprofit investment platform that allows for private capital to drive social causes from affordable housing to workforce development, small business and transportation sectors, they said.

All Blue Week Schedule

Inside Cape Fear Community College’s Marine Technology and Boat Building Programs: 4-5 p.m. Nov. 1, at 407 North Water St. Wilmington or by zoom. During this free event, learn about the college’s 57-year history of training students for employment in industries specific to scientific work on the water, current projects and ways students contribute to the blue economy after graduation. Parking is available at college’s visitor parking lots on Water Street or on the corner of Walnut and Second streets. Register online.

Opening session with keynote by Deborah Westphal: 8-11:30 a.m. Nov. 2, UNCW Lumina Theatre, 615 Hamilton Drive, Wilmington and via Zoom. Rear Adm. Laura M. Dickey, operational commander for U.S. Coast Guard missions from the North Carolina and South Carolina border to New Jersey, will speak before keynote speaker, Westphal. John Waterston with Defense Advanced Research Projects Agency, or DARPA, an agency of the U.S. Department of Defense also will present. Register online.

Blue Economy Workshop with Deborah Westphal: 2 p.m. Nov. 2, UNCW Marbionic Building, 5598 Marvin K. Moss Lane, Wilmington. This free workshop with Westphal will discuss what the blue economy is and what it means for southeastern North Carolina. The conference table is limited to 32 people, with additional seating for up to 18 observers. Register online.

Blue Tech/New Tech Panel Discussion: 3:45 p.m. Nov. 2, UNCW Marbionic Building, 5598 Marvin K. Moss Lane, Wilmington or online via Zoom. During this free panel discussion, attendees can learn what’s new in Blue technology. Registration is preferred, but not required. Register online.

Planet Ocean Seminar: 6:30 p.m. Nov. 2, via Zoom. The UNCW Center for Marine Science will host the free, virtual seminar with speaker Monica Jain, founder and executive director of Fish 2.0 and Manta Consulting Inc. Registration is required for the virtual event. For further information, please call the UNCW Center for Marine Science at 910-962-2301. Use this link to register for the virtual event: Zoom link. To attend in-person, email helmsc@uncw.edu or call CMS at 910-962-2301.

What’s Brewing in Science?: 6 p.m. Nov. 2, Waterline Brewery, 721 Surry St., Wilmington. Join Cape Fear Museum and All Blue for the interactive session to explore the social, economic, and environmental impacts of building a sustainable future for our ocean and river economy. Registration is optional, but recommended.

Sea Change – Sparking Sustainable Innovation in an Old-School Industry: 9 a.m. Nov. 3,CMS Auditorium, 5600 Marvin K. Moss Lane, Wilmington and via zoom. Monica Jain will speak during this free seminar. In 2013, she founded Fish 2.0 to drive investor interest in new innovations and technologies supporting aquaculture and sustainable seafood. Register online.

Panel Discussion: Follow the Money – Opportunities and Challenges of Investing in Food: 10 a.m. Nov. 3, CMS Auditorium, 5600 Marvin K. Moss Lane, Wilmington and via Zoom. Join Jain and investors in this free panel discussion about investing in food-based businesses facing challenges to find growth capital. Register online.

Living Shorelines 101: 9-11 a.m. Nov. 3, Fort Caswell, 100 Caswell Beach Road, Oak Island. Cost is $5 per person. Learn about the town’s living shoreline restoration project its 170-foot oyster reef. The presentation will begin indoors and then head outdoors for a site visit to the salt marsh and restoration area. Masks required when in close proximity to others and indoors. Contact bpace@fortcaswell.com or call 910-278-9501 to register.

NC Entrepreneurs Pitch Innovative Blue Economy Ventures: 3 p.m. Nov. 3, Blockade Runner Resort, 275 Waynick Blvd., Wrightsville Beach. Cost is $35 per person. Join Jain, Ben Redding and investors from VentureSouth, WALE, and Seahawk Innovation to look at state-based startups representing a broad range of blue economy sectors from marine robotics, marine biotechnology, sustainable seafood, water quality, and more. Register online.

A Blue Tourism Experience Aboard the Blockade Runner’s Carolina Runner: 5 p.m. Nov. 3, Blockade Runner Resort and Marina, 275 Waynick Blvd., Wrightsville Beach. Cost is $50, with a cash bar on board. The Blockade Runner’s sunset cruise on the Carolina Runner will depart from the dock across from the hotel’s property. There will be a presentation on the sustainability practices that has earned the Blockade Runner designations as an Ocean Friendly Establishment and recognition by the North Carolina GreenTravel Initiative. Register online.

The North Carolina Beach, Inlet and Waterway Association’s Annual Conference: 7:30 a.m.-5:45 p.m. Nov. 4 and 7:30 a.m.-3:30 p.m. Nov. 5, Aloft Wilmington at Coastline Center, 501 Nutt St., Wilmington. Cost is $200 for both days. There will be legislative and policy updates, offshore wind energy panel discussion, mapping the effects of sea level rise on coastal habitats, NC Resilient Coastal Communities Program update, Top 10 restoration plants for coastal and marsh restoration, and Olivine Sand: A Cost-Effective Carbon-Negative Alternative for Beach Renourishment. Register online.

Tracking Great Sharks in NC Waters Using Innovative and Data-Centric Technologies: 10 a.m. to noon Nov. 4, via zoom. Cost is $10.  A SEA and Coffee presentation by Dr. Bob Hueter, chief scientist with OCEARCH, a data-centric organization instituted to help scientists collect previously unobtainable data about great white sharks in their ocean environment. Register online.

UNCW Global Marine Science Mini-Summit — Virtual Symposia and Panel Discussion: 2-4 p.m. Nov. 4, Hybrid of prerecorded presentations and virtual panel discussion via Zoom. International experts from China, Colombia, Bangladesh, Malaysia and others will join UNCW marine science faculty in a panel discussion focused on research, trends and developments in marine biotech/pharmaceuticals, coastal resiliency, tourism and aquaculture. More information and registration details are online.

North Carolina Coastal Federation’s Oyster Blueprint Update with Ted Wilgis: 2-3:30 p.m. Nov. 4, via Zoom. Ted Wilgis, coastal scientist with the federation, will discuss during this free event the link between the economic and ecological benefits of using oysters for farming, wild harvest, ecosystem services and shoreline resiliency. Learn more at nccoast.org and register online.

CMS Saturday: 10:30 a.m. Nov. 6, UNCW Center for Marine Science, 5600 Marvin K. Moss Lane. Free, one-hour tours of UNCW’s College of Marine Science’s shellfish research hatcheries and portions of the CMS and Marbionic facilities. Tours begin at 10:30 a.m. and will be offered every half hour until the final tour at 1 p.m. Tour groups will be limited to 20 and must be 12 years old or older.  Registering online before the event is necessary.

No matter how you travel the new North Carolina Oyster Trail, whether you visit every single restaurant along the route or take an oyster farm tour, you’ll come away with one thing for certain: inspiration to cook your own oysters at home.

They’re best simply prepared with a delectable sauce, and these five recipes cover all the best ways to serve oysters.

If you like raw oysters on the half shell, go for the sweet Vidalia vinegar sauce with pink peppercorns and a hint of sweet sparkling wine. Oysters roasted in the oven or over a live fire are insanely good with garlic butter hot sauce or creamy jalapeno remoulade. Also start thinking about your own signature cocktail sauce. Consider the classic cocktail sauce recipe below a base for unbridled creativity.

No matter which sauce you choose, abide by one important rule: Never pile on so much sauce that it covers up the oyster’s flavor.

Sweet Vidalia Vinegar Sauce

A few drops of vinegar on oysters is standard in many communities along the North Carolina coast. A little acid balances the oyster’s rich texture and creamy flavor. In France, mignonette sauce — chopped shallots, crushed peppercorns and vinegar – is the classic condiment for raw oysters. However vinegar is served on an oyster, apply sparingly or vinegar’s tang will overwhelm the oyster’s natural flavors.

Blend 2 tablespoons minced Vidalia onion, 1 teaspoon crushed pink peppercorns, a pinch of crushed black peppercorns, ¼ cup white wine vinegar and ¼ cup sparkling pink sweet wine such as Moscato in a small bowl. Gently stir until combined. Refrigerate until ice cold. Spoon on to raw oysters or offer as a steamed oyster condiment.

Jalapeno Remoulade

When you’re piling fried oysters on a sandwich or giving oysters a smoky brininess by baking them in their shells in the oven, a creamy sauce with a bite is a decadent way to complement the shellfish’s flavor.

Whisk together ½ cup mayonnaise, 2 tablespoons chopped pickled jalapenos, 1 tablespoon hot or mild chow chow, 1 teaspoon chopped capers, 1 tablespoon Dijon mustard, 1 teaspoon lemon juice and 1 teaspoon paprika. Fold in 2 teaspoons chopped fresh parsley and 2 teaspoons chopped chives.

Garlic Butter Hot Sauce

No oyster roast is complete without cocktail sauce and little ramekins of hot, melted butter. As oyster roasts progress, those condiments get mixed together little by little as folks double dip in butter and then cocktail sauce or vice versa, creating one utterly delicious amalgamation. That mixing inspired this recipe. Dip steamed oysters into this sauce or drizzle it over fried oysters.

Peel and then finely chop four large cloves of garlic. Place garlic and 1 stick of unsalted butter in a small saucepan set over medium-low heat. Slowly cook the garlic in the butter for 5 minutes. Do not let garlic or butter brown. Continuously stir butter as you add ½ teaspoon paprika, ½ teaspoon chili powder, ½ teaspoon Cajun seasoning, 1 teaspoon Worcestershire sauce, 1 teaspoon horseradish, 1 scant tablespoon tomato paste and 2 tablespoons hot sauce to the pan. Makes ½ cup.

Classic Cocktail Sauce

Asking oyster roast lovers how they make their cocktail sauce is like asking Grandma for a recipe.

They’ll probably tell you they never measure anything and add a dab of this and a little of that depending on how the sauce tastes as they’re mixing it. Everyone seems to agree that ketchup, horseradish, hot sauce and Worcestershire are key ingredients. From there, it’s up to the cook.

Use this recipe as a starter to create your own blend. You might add grated garlic, lime juice, Old Bay seasoning blend, soy sauce, chipotle, wasabi instead of horseradish or other ingredients to make this sauce your own.

Whatever you choose, the end result should be a balance of sweet, salty and tangy with noticeable but not extreme heat. In North Carolina, classic cocktail sauce is a dip for steamed, fried and baked oysters as well as oysters roasted over a fire. It’s also a condiment for fried oysters served in a hamburger bun, a sandwich known as an oyster burger.

In a small bowl, blend together ½ cup ketchup, 1-3 tablespoons grated horseradish, 2 teaspoons Worcestershire sauce, 1-2 teaspoons hot sauce, 1 teaspoon lemon juice or a dash of vinegar. Cover and refrigerate sauce until ready to use.

Trust Me Sauce

This simplest of all recipes comes from my late Italian uncle who showed up at our house one night to tell us we had been eating steamed clams all wrong.

He suggested that we lay them out on the half shell, sprinkle each clam with a little oregano and garlic powder and then drizzle on top-quality extra-virgin olive oil.

“Trust me,” he said. “I know what I’m talking about.”

Turns out he was right, and his suggestion was equally delicious on oysters baked in their shells in the oven. Sometime, we sprinkled on a little flaked red pepper, too.

“What’s in that pot in the refrigerator,” I asked my Italian mother, hoping she’d say tomato sauce and meatballs.

“Boiled peanuts,” she answered.

“Boiled peanuts? Who brought you those?” I had to wonder. Mom was a great cook, until it came to Southern food. In dirt clod battles among the neighborhood kids, my brother and I could have armed ourselves with her biscuits.

“I boiled those peanuts,” Mom declared, steam rising as I rolled my eyes. “I know how to boil peanuts. Just ask Charles.”

Charles was Mom’s second husband, and his opinion on boiled peanuts mattered. He grew up in South Carolina, a state where boiled peanuts are the official state snack. For Charles, each salty, tender nugget represented a cherished memory of family and annual fall peanut boils where folks gathered to simmer and then eat freshly dug peanuts.

Charles was so enamored of boiled peanuts that my mother, who had long considered them inedible, not only learned to boil peanuts but grew to love them herself. So did I. Our experience is emblematic of how boiled peanuts got around to being one of the South’s most adored foods.

They were a taste of home and identity never forgotten.

The boiled peanut’s complicated journey

From baseball stadium snacks to PB&Js packed in school lunches, roasted peanuts are an iconic American food, but you’d be hard-pressed to find boiled peanuts outside the southeastern United States.

Makeshift signs advertising “boiled peanuts” in fall are so plentiful across the region, especially around the Carolinas, it seems like boiled peanuts were born there. Instead, they took a complicated journey to that part of the world.

Food historians trace the peanut plant’s roots to what is now eastern Bolivia. The Incas ate so many roasted peanuts that shells still littered their floors uncovered by archeologists centuries later. Peanuts spread all the way to the Aztec empire and Atlantic islands now known as the Caribbean.

The Portuguese especially loved peanuts, raw or roasted, and by the mid-1500s had carried them to West Africa, Andrew F. Smith writes in “Peanuts: The Illustrative History of the Goober Pea.” The book is a sweeping history of the peanut.

Africans were already growing the similar, indigenous Bambara nut, named for a tribe now living mainly in Mali. Bambara nuts were and still are eaten fresh, boiled and added to stews. Both Bambara nuts and peanuts are nutritional powerhouse legumes, complete foods packed with protein, carbohydrates and fat. Prolific, easy-to-grow peanuts overtook Bambara nuts in Africa, spreading so rapidly that some historians thought peanuts originated there.

“Nguba,” the word for peanut in the African Kongo and Kimbundu languages, led to “goober,” the South’s nickname for peanuts. When European traders enslaved tens of thousands of West Africans and took them far from their birthplaces, Africans held on to their cooking traditions and memories of home. Wherever they landed, they recreated the dishes they knew as best they could, including boiled peanuts.

This is who really made boiled peanuts famous

Historical accounts over time have claimed that no one knows who first boiled peanuts. Some credited Confederate soldiers with popularizing boiled peanuts in the South. Johnny Cash, the Kingston Trio and other artists performed the American Civil War-era folk song “Goober Peas.” The lyrics involve battle-weary servicemen eating a lot of “delicious goober peas” and looking forward to more when they got home.

Food writer Robert Moss in his deep research of boiled peanuts doubts soldiers boiled goobers. Most everyone at that time preferred roasted peanuts, leading Moss to believe Africans and their descendants were probably the only people boiling peanuts. And as Smith’s book notes, “In antebellum America, Southern aristocracy viewed peanuts as trash food consumed by poor or enslaved people. Up North, they (peanuts) were looked upon as ungenteel, ‘the very symbol of rowdyism.’”

Boiled peanuts didn’t gain wide acceptance until the early 1900s. In 1915, African American agricultural scientist George Washington Carver started his famous research on how peanut crops could fill cotton fields ravaged by boll weevils. His studies led to the United States becoming one of the world’s top peanut producers. A year later, Carver published a bulletin outlining 105 ways to prepare peanuts, including boiling them for soup

By then, Africans in America had been boiling peanuts for decades. With peanuts suddenly in the spotlight, Moss thinks whites took notice of boiled goober peas. Like recipes for yams, cornbreads, stewed collards and barbecue ribs, boiled peanuts were so delicious they became another celebrated Southern specialty traced to African American culture.

How to cook boiled peanuts

Convenience stores sell boiled peanuts year-round, but as a Tidewater Virginian once told me, and everyone else who came through his line as he spooned out boiled peanuts at a late-November oyster roast, “You should only eat these in the fall. It’s too late now.”

Peanut boils happen in fall because that’s when fresh peanuts are harvested in the South, and green peanuts make the best boiled peanuts. Fresh peanuts cook faster than dried peanuts. More importantly, they are silkier and have a subtler nutty flavor. Moist and highly perishable, fresh peanuts must be used within a few days of picking, hence the need to host a big peanut boil. Whoever comes to help dig and cook peanuts gets to eat their fill.

Always refrigerate boiled peanuts and eat them within a few days, otherwise they’ll spoil. In eastern North Carolina, find fresh peanuts to cook yourself from mid-September to mid-October at farmers markets, produce stands and smaller grocery stores like Piggly Wiggly. Boiled peanuts pop up around the same time at fresh markets and roadside stands.

Boil peanuts in water seasoned with plenty of salt. Consider adding bourbon, seasoning blends, soy sauce or even molasses to the brine. Creative preparations are fine. Pro chefs have been known to swirl boiled peanut purees around trendy, New America pork belly dishes.

I, myself, have swooned over a housemade sweet potato tot swiped across a tasty smear of boiled peanut hummus, but I prefer the pleasure of eating simple boiled peanuts. Squeezing boiled peanuts from their shells and savoring their uncomplicated flavor fills me up with nostalgia for times when food was truly seasonal, something to harvest and prepare together. It’s the kind of food you never forget.

Basic Boiled Peanuts

2 pounds raw, green peanuts or raw dried peanuts, in their shells

1/3 to 1/2 cup of salt (see note)

3 gallons of water

Note: If you are adding other seasonings such as hot peppers, spice mixes, vinegar or bourbon, add to the pot along with the salt. Add more salt if you like salty foods, less if you don’t.

Procedure: Rinse peanuts to remove any dirt clinging to their shells. Put salt, water and peanuts in a large pot and place on the stove over high heat. Cover the pot and bring the peanuts to a boil. Reduce the heat to a simmer and cook for 4 to 6 hours, or until the peanuts are very tender. Check green peanuts after two or three hours, as they cook faster than dried peanuts. To test, remove a peanut from the pot, let cook, open the shell and taste the peanut. It should be tender but not mushy. When peanuts are done cooking, turn off the heat, drain peanuts, reserving some of the liquid, and transfer them to a large baking sheet to cool. Serve peanuts immediately while they’re warm or transfer them, with a little bit of the cooking liquid, into a covered container and refrigerate no longer than 4 or 5 days.

Back in the spring, fast-food mega giants McDonald’s and Arby’s went at it over which chain produced the best fried fish sandwich. It was a fight that anyone who’s ever been on or near the North Carolina coast knew neither restaurant could win.

The battle boiled down to peelable breading on a square piece of whitefish atop American cheese at McDonald’s vs. a near-parallelogram-shaped fried whitefish filet on a lot of shredded iceberg lettuce at Arby’s. Plenty of tartar sauce garnished each stack, both of them built on soft, white burger buns.

No doubt, fans hemmed and hawed over one or the other, but in my mind, both sandwiches were disqualified for breaking every single rule about what constitutes the best fried fish sandwich.

Great fried fish sandwiches are made with fresh, identifiable fish filets, hand-breaded and fried to order. They’re towers of tender, tasty fish contrasted by crisp, refreshing slaw and smeared with a zingy tartar sauce that never bullies the fish.

You’ll find the real thing up and down the North Carolina coast, deep into the Piedmont and all the way to Asheville, too. Each place might put its own spin on the classic, but rest assured no matter the variation, all those sandwiches are likely to be better than whoever won the so-called “Fish Sandwich War of 2020.”

Five of the best fried fish sandwiches in North Carolina

Stop wishing you could have one of those fried fish sandwiches people keep posting on Instagram. Go get one. These restaurants serve fried fish sandwiches featuring fresh North Carolina seafood, and you can get these sandwiches to go.

O’Neal’s Sea Harvest

618 Harbor Road, Wanchese, 252-473-4535, onealsseaharvest.com

All seafood is locally caught and purchased daily at this Outer Banks market and restaurant on Roanoke Island. The lunch-only spot is known for lightly fried seafood and putting gourmet touches on fish sandwiches. Recently, grilled golden tilefish landed with fresh spinach, tomato and lemon remoulade on a potato roll. Don’t miss the fries seasoned with Old Bay.

Salt Box Seafood Joint

2637 Durham-Chapel Hill Blvd., Durham, 919-237-3499; 608 N Mangum St., Durham, 919-908-8970; saltboxseafoodjoint.com

Chef Ricky Moore’s tribute to fish camps and seafood shacks has been featured in just about every major food magazine since he opened his first location in 2012. This year, Moore is a semi-finalist in the James Beard Awards best chef southeast category. The New Bern native brings native North Carolina seafood to the inland masses via walk-up, take-out and online ordering services. Fresh catches, fried or griddled, are posted daily and land on the classic fish sandwich, topped with slaw.

Seaview Crab Co.

1515 Marstellar St., Wilmington, 910-769-1554, seaviewcrabcompany.com/midtown

Much respect if you can leave the parking lot before digging into your fish sandwich. Mine came with crispy fried flounder stacked two pieces high, tangy mojo aioli, greens and a tomato slice. Normally, I shun tomatoes on fried fish sandwiches, but the fish’s extra-crispy breading and the toasty grilled roll totally stood up to the juicy tomato.

Quality Seafood Market

309 E. Ehringhaus St., Elizabeth City, 252-335-7648, qualityseafoodco.com

Folks line up all the way to the five-lane street fronting the market for flounder sandwiches, no frills, just crispy fish on a bun for $5.99. Get a side of slaw if you want to dress it up. Do take-out, pick-up at the drive-thru window or dine-in. Family-owned and operated for 40 years, the market stocks a range of seafood from shucked oysters to whole steamed crabs and fish filets.

Southern Salt Seafood Co.

701 Evans St., Morehead City, 252-499-9528, southernsaltseafood.com

Fishing boats pull right up to the dock beside this building, which has been a seafood restaurant since 1941 and a seafood market before that. If you don’t see a fried fish sandwich on the menu, don’t be afraid to ask for one. Local fish is guaranteed, and the kitchen will fix your sandwich just about any way you like it.

Make your own

Fish sandwiches are not so hard to make at home. Follow these guidelines to create your own ultimate version.

Full-flavor fish

Skip mild flounder, especially now as state regulators work to restore overfished populations. Trout, mahi, sea bass, tilefish and triggerfish seasoned simply with salt and pepper are all flavorful and firm enough to shine in a fish sandwich. Be generous. Plan two filets per sandwich, using pieces of fish large enough so some of the meat hangs over the sides of the bread.

Breading

A combination of cracker meal and panko bread crumbs makes a crunchy crust while a simple dusting of cornmeal is lightly crispy and adds that true Southern flavor. The latter also lets you pan-fry fish in less oil, a big deal when facing the challenge of frying at home.

Deep-frying dates back more than 1,500 years to the Greeks, and the Portuguese and Spanish had fish frying down to an art by the 1200s and may have inspired the British fish and chips. After all those years, we still struggle with deep-frying in our own kitchens. If you need a refresher, revisit our story about how to fry fish. And always use a heavy skillet. Nothing works better than a cast-iron pan. And stick to oil that can take the heat, like grapeseed or avocado oil.

Don’t fuss with seasoning the bread crumbs. The sandwich’s toppings and spreads should be all the added flavor you need on that crispy piece of fish.

You must have slaw

Iceberg lettuce on a fish sandwich is, well, kind of a cop-out. Tender fish, hot from the fryer and laid on a soft bun begs coleslaw’s zesty crunch. Go with vinegar-dressed rather than creamy slaw. Shave cabbage, green or red, super thin. Use about ¼ to ½ cup of slaw per sandwich, but not so much that the fish is overwhelmed. Serve the slaw for the sandwiches cold but not ice-cold. You want a cool contrast that doesn’t reduce the fish’s temperature. Try the recipe below on your next fish sandwich.

Amp up the tartar sauce

It’s not a fish sandwich without homemade tartar sauce that touches the fish. If you smear it into the bread, the sauce’s flavor will get lost. Dollop and gently spread a couple spoonfuls on the bottom bun and/or on top of the fish. Store-bought tartar sauce just doesn’t have the same zip and freshness as sauce you make yourself. The recipe below includes jalapenos and Southern chow-chow relish.

Soft, humble bread

This is not the occasion to break out the brioche, sourdough boule, onion rolls, sweet Hawaiian bread, rustic whole-grain or those everything bagels. Stick to simple, white buns or hoagie rolls soft enough to bite through without mashing the delicate fish. Toast the buns insides up under the broiler until they are lightly browned. That will add a bit more crispiness to a fish sandwich and help ensure the bread doesn’t soak up tartar sauce. Rub the toasted sides with a half clove of garlic to add a little more spice.

Extra crispy things

Pickled onions, sliced bread-and-butter pickles, potato chips and crunchy fried bacon are fun, optional garnishes to set on the table so that guests may doctor their fish sandwiches. Put out lemon wedges and Texas Pete, too. Stay away from sliced tomatoes. They’ll water down the fish’s flavor and make the sandwich soggy.

Vinegar Coleslaw

¼ cup apple cider vinegar

2 tablespoons sugar

½ teaspoon celery seeds

1 tablespoon olive oil

¼ pound red cabbage, finely shredded

½ pound white cabbage, finely shredded

1 small carrot, scrubbed, trimmed and shredded

1-2 tablespoons pickled mustard seeds

Place apple cider vinegar, sugar and olive oil in a small sauce pan and gently heat until sugar has melted. Remove pan from heat and stir in celery seeds.

Place cabbages and carrot in a medium bowl. Pour warm dressing over vegetables and toss. Fold in pickled mustard seeds. Season with salt and pepper to taste. Refrigerate until ready to serve.

Makes about 3 cups.

Jalapeno Tartar Sauce

3/4 cup prepared mayonnaise

¼ cup chopped gherkins

3 tablespoons chopped capers

2 tablespoons chow-chow relish, drained

1 small, fresh jalapeno, finely diced

1 tablespoon minced parsley or dill

1 tablespoon lemon juice

Salt and black pepper to taste

Stir together all ingredients in a small bowl. Refrigerate for 30 minutes. Taste tartar sauce, adding more salt and pepper if needed. Makes 1 cup.

Source: Liz Biro

Clyde Phillips Seafood Market, like fish houses across North Carolina, is open during coronavirus, but, as the rest of them, it’s doing business a little differently.

Normally, people would hang around the wee pink house where Phillips’ shrimp trawlers dock between two bridges over White Oak River in Swansboro. As fishmongers prepped orders, locals and customers would chitchat or peruse wall photos of the place, in business since 1954.

These days, Phillips has strict rules: Call in orders before you arrive and wait your turn outside if customers are in the market when you get there.

“They’re having to find different methods to go to,” said John Aydlett, seafood marketing office manager for the state Department of Agriculture, of seafood retailers maneuvering change in the age of coronavirus.

Markets are deemed essential services and, therefore, open, but with sales down as much as 80%, thanks in a large part to pandemic-related restaurant closures, market owners are working to get more seafood into home kitchens, Aydlett said.

So are fishers like Ana Shellem. Based in New Hanover County, Shellem sold and delivered the clams, oysters, mussels and stone crab she harvested exclusively to restaurants. That ended March 17, when Gov. Roy Cooper issued an executive order shuttering dine-in service at eating and drinking establishments.

“If that continues into May, I’ll definitely be doing those home deliveries,” Shellem said in late April as governors and the White House debated when businesses could reopen.

While the pandemic has posed challenges to seafood retailers, fish are still running, shrimp are filling nets and seafood is available to purchase, whether you want to pick it up at the market, get curbside service or have it delivered to your door.

How to find seafood markets in North Carolina

Urban seafood markets are easy to find online. Most of them have websites and Facebook pages, as well as other social media sites. Rural fish houses may have no online presence. These organizations have rounded up the names, addresses and contact information for what appears to be every single seafood market in North Carolina.

N.C. Seafood Marketing: ncagr.gov/markets/seafood/index.htm

Hit the “seafood directory” tab at this agency’s webpage to run detailed searches for seafood markets in your area. This division of the state Department of Agriculture & Consumer Services also posts recipes, charts showing what’s in season and links to other seafood resources.

NC Catch: facebook.com/NCCatch

Get regular news reports from coastal North Carolina seafood markets by following NC Catch’s Facebook feed. Pin down what’s up in various regions by following the organization’s regional partners:

• Carteret Catch
• Brunswick Catch
• Ocracoke Fresh
• Outer Banks Catch

Seafood delivery and online orders

Don’t see your favorite market or one in your community on this list? Ask what’s in the works when you call those markets. As the coronavirus lockdown and social distancing continue, seafood markets are constantly adapting by adding online ordering, delivery and shipping, Aydlett said.

Seaview Crab Co.

1515 Marstellar St., Wilmington, and other locations in the Wilmington and Fayetteville areas, 910-777-1228, seaviewcrabcompany.com

Let fishmongers curate a box of mixed seafood (free shipping to some states, including North Carolina) or make a custom order. You may also shop multiple locations in the Wilmington and Fayetteville areas. Seaview owners are working on home delivery to Wilmington residents. In February, owners, who started as crabbers and still harvest some of the N.C. seafood they sell, added a take-out kitchen to Seaview’s Marstellar Street location in Wilmington. Recent menus have featured grilled or fried fish or shrimp in tacos or on fried grits with cheddar cheese sauce. Po’ boys, crab cake sandwiches, seafood salads and daily specials are also available.

Fresh Catch Seafood

57 Harbor Road, Wanchese, 252-473-7484, freshcatchobx.com

This fish processing and packaging operation, owned and operated by fishers, just started putting together family packs, one of which comes with a pound of grouper and a half-pound of plain or bacon-wrapped scallops, ready to cook. Shipping and curbside service is available for all kinds of fish and shellfish.

Carolina Meat & Fish Co.

16709 Orchard Stone Run, Charlotte, 704-458-1011, carolinafishmarket.com

Get bake-and-eat seafood bags shipped to your door. Build your own spicy fra diavolo bag or choose combinations like just shrimp and corn or crab, lobster and shrimp. Each bag comes with “secret sauce.” Eat right from the bag, toss with pasta or spoon over rice. Carolina also ships sea scallops. Order the monthly seafood subscription boxes, and the shipping is free. Each box contains five portions of seasonal seafood, most of it harvested in North Carolina.

R.E. Mayo Seafood

183 Mayo Road, Hobucken, 252-745-5331, remayoseafoodinc.com

The longtime hub for locally harvested seafood will ship small and large amounts of seafood, even 50 pounds of shrimp. Seasonal seafood is packed fresh and then frozen before it hits the road. Depending on the season, offerings include flounder, mullet, sea bass, croaker, spot, drum and trout, crabs, scallops, shrimp and oysters. Call to find out what’s available.

Washington Crab & Oyster Co.

321 N Pierce St., Washington, 252-946-5796, washingtoncrab.com/shop

Shop online for whatever is biting, shellfish, too, and then have it delivered to your door. Get raw seafood like shrimp and sea scallops and cooked seafood including picked crab meat and whole steamed blue crabs. Also find ready-to-cook crab cakes. Check the list online to see what fish are in season.

Topsail Steamer

Surf City, 910-328-2645; Wrightsville Beach, 910-679-5004; topsailsteamer.com

Both locations are open for curbside pick-up — check the website for schedules – but Topsail Steamer also ships its delectable seafood boils nationwide via goldbelly.com/topsail-steamer, and shipping is free. The classic blends jumbo shrimp, andouille sausage, sweet corn, red bliss potatoes and Topsail Steamer’s own seasoning blend. Other pots include clams, scallops, kielbasa and snow crab. You just add beer or water.

Walking Fish

walking-fish.org

Run by a Carteret County-based fishermen’s cooperative, the community supported fishery, or CSF, supplies members in Raleigh and Durham a variety of seasonal N.C. seafood in spring, fall and winter. Sign up at the website for 2- or 4-pound packages delivered weekly or bi-weekly. Choose seafood dressed as close to ready-to-cook as possible, for instance fish filets, or minimally processed seafood like bone-in fish. Find prices and what’s in season at Walking Fish’s website.

Locals Seafood

Various locations in the Raleigh-Durham-Chapel Hill area, 919-675-2722, localsseafood.com

The company was founded by fishers who offer N.C. seafood all the time. Pre-order online and then pick up at the Raleigh State, Chapel Hill or Western Wake farmers markets. Weekly “seafood shares” — 2-pound boxes of what’s in season – are also available. Curbside pick-up and local delivery of prepared food like grilled striped bass sandwiches or meal kits like shrimp and grits, tuna lasagna and lemon-herb-stuffed sea bass, are available at Locals Oyster Bar 3 to 8 p.m. Wednesday-Sunday. Order online ahead of time. Credit and debit cards only for all purchases. No cash. Visit the website and Locals’ Facebook and Instagram for details

High Country Seafood Co.

215 Beaver Creek School Road, 336-977-1827, highcountryseafoodco.net

This shop is in the North Carolina mountains, but owners work with our state’s fishers to source high-quality seafood in season. Selections change weekly and have recently included red snapper, wild shrimp, wahoo, tilefish and swordfish. Order online, even N.C. favorites such as shrimp burgers, and pick up at the market. Also text or email preorders for family meal boxes that contain all the ingredients you need for dinners such as seafood tacos, shrimp gumbo and Low Country boils. Meals generally feed four people.

Shrimp, rockfish and more seafood recipes

Fried seafood platters are crave-worthy for sure, but seafood is versatile. Here’s where to find recipes galore.

Coastal Review: coastalreview.org/category/ourcoast/food

Sure, we’ll toot our own horn. Coastal Review’s food section serves lots of recipes. Find a story about how to fry shrimp, which puts you one step away from making shrimp burgers at home. Also, learn how to make crab cakes. There’s a recipe for stuffed shrimp and another for classic shrimp cocktail.

Mariner’s Menu: ncseagrant.ncsu.edu/mariners-menu

For years, cooks working with N.C. Sea Grant have been developing seafood recipes for this blog, part of which is assembled in a cookbook by the same title. Besides dishes like grouper in cilantro butter, find tips for selecting, handling and storing seafood.

Haag & Sons Seafood

7901 E. Oak Island Drive, Oak Island, 910-278-1234, haagandsonsseafood.com

Scan Haag’s Facebook page and website for irresistible recipes like seared scallops on white bean and spinach ragu with charred lemon and then call in your order before heading to the market. Don’t be afraid to ask questions or request fish cut to order. Owner Jon Haag has been on the fishing scene for 25 years and has been voted Brunswick County’s top fishmonger.

Jane Bell was a vivacious redhead who lived in a tiny house in Greenville back when tiny houses were places where most people didn’t want to live. The kitchen was one of her three immaculately clean rooms, all set in a row and each festooned in rainbow bric-a-brac, much of it collected on flea market runs with her boyfriend, my father.

All in all, the house could not have been more than 500 square feet, maybe less, most of it dedicated to a floral-heavy living room, vanilla pink boudoir and cramp bathroom surprisingly equipped with a clawfoot tub … or maybe not so surprisingly. Jane believed in reincarnation, and one fuzzy image of a past life put her as a young lady at a grand ball, circa 1800s. She recalled wearing a bright yellow gown decorated in brown ruffles and bows. Surely, her pre-occasion primping those many decades ago began in a similar tub.

Jane thought anything was possible. She was a sparkly eyed optimist whose nose crinkled like a sprite when she smiled. Therefore, we never doubted that from the wee stove in her little kitchen Jane could pull the best damn rum cake you ever tasted. That’s pretty much how Jane put it when she told us the dessert was among her specialties.

Dad was an admirable baker himself, and one who believed any cake was better moistened with brandy. I was a student at East Carolina University, which continually made national lists of America’s best party schools. My brother was not long out of N.C. State, where he constructed an elaborate dorm-room bar. Anything soaked with rum was fine with us three.

The Duncan Hines yellow cake Jane baked was extra moist, basically pound-cake-like, thanks to the addition of Jell-O instant pudding mix. It was covered in caramelly chopped pecans baked upside-down-style into the cake. The masterpiece glistened with rum glaze Jane carefully brushed all over the cake until every drop was absorbed.

The confection looked as innocent as Jane must have in her past-life ball gown, which meant my family and I were not prepared for the straight shots of rum that were our first bites of Jane’s cake. As my Dad remarked, “Woo!”

Jane planned to bring just such a cake to a holiday potluck at the boat plant where she worked. The fact that a couple slices might render machine operators too drunk to continue their shifts didn’t matter to her.

When it comes to rum cake, no setting seems off-limits down South. Since my first rum cake experience, I’ve heard stories of rum cakes at coastal North Carolina family gatherings where spirits were otherwise taboo. Sassy bakers, women or men, were usually behind the cakes.

Somehow, teetotalers tolerate this sinful addition to dessert sideboards. Maybe it’s because of the science that says alcohol added to the cake batter burns off during baking. Perhaps, some cooks use rum extract, which, as American food company McCormick says, has all “the complex yet sweet rum flavoring minus all the alcohol.” It could be those are just the things relatives and friends tell themselves as they reach for another slice. After all, what’s a family get-together without secret giggles?

In its timeline of “The Most Popular Cakes in Southern History,” Southern Living magazine gives the year 1977 to rum cake. Bacardi gets credit for making Jane’s version popular across America. In the 1970s, the company published the recipe in its “Bacardi Party Book.” The formula continued to show up for years in magazine ads, sometimes under the headline “How to make the famous Bacardi rum cake.”

In a 1976 St. Cloud Times (Minnesota) article about the cake, the reporter wrote, “If you’re looking for a dessert that combines all of the best new ideas in cake baking and easy preparation, with fool-proof results, try a Bacardi Rum Cake.” The “real star,” the writer said, was the half-cup of dark rum that went into the batter.

Of course, it was noted that the rum cooked away, but then another half-cup was stirred into glaze brushed on the finished cake.

I doubt Jane used only a half cup.

Rum cake often shows up on coastal North Carolina Christmas tables, which makes sense considering it’s a distant cousin of steamed Christmas puddings that date to at least 17^th century England. Old pudding recipes called for 13 ingredients, representing Jesus and his 12 apostles. Typical components included suet, molasses, lots of spices and plenty of raisins and currants. Moistened with brandy, rum or other spirits, the puddings had such high alcohol content they could be aged for months, important in times before refrigeration.

British colonists carried pudding recipes to the New World. In the Caribbean, the formulas were tweaked to create “black cake,” a heavy molasses spice cake full of rum-soaked fruit.

Rum’s profitability was more important than its preservation qualities. The drink was the colonies’ most valuable industry and favorite beverage. Everyone drank rum, even kids. So did pirates who frequented North Carolina’s shores. Domestic, imported or smuggled, rum was considered potent enough to nix toxins and, thus, healthier than water.

Over time, rum consumption dropped and more delicate, although still strong, rum cakes emerged. They may have been inspired by European yeast rum babas sometimes filled with pastry cream. Italian-Americans like to celebrate birthdays with Italian rum cake. Liquor-soaked vanilla layers sit between chocolate and vanilla pastry cream, the whole thing frosted in sweetened whipped cream.

An unusual Kentucky recipe can be found in Southern Living magazine’s 1983 “The Southern Heritage Cakes Cookbook.” Rum butter cream fills the angel food layer cake and more rum spikes the meringue frosting.

Despite the documented history, Jane will always be the source of my devotion to rum cake. I envision her ball gown being rum-cake yellow and trimmed in pecan-brown ruffles and bows. Surrounded by suitors near a Christmas tree, she demurely sips rum punch with a gleam in her eye that one fellow mistakes for a wink in his direction. She’s really coveting the pound cake behind him, a treat to dip into her cup. His confusion is fortunate for Jane, as the man, who resembles my father, is there to catch her just as she is overtaken by a lightheaded feeling of déjà vu.

Bacardi Rum Cake

Cake:

1 cup chopped pecans or walnuts

1 18½-ounce box yellow cake mix

1 3¾-ounce package vanilla pudding mix

4 eggs

½ cup cold water

½ cup Wesson oil

½ cup Bacardi dark rum (80 proof)

Glaze:

¼ pound butter

¼ cup water

1 cup granulated sugar

½ cup Bacardi dark rum (80 proof)

Preheat oven to 325 degrees. Grease and flour a 10-inch tube or 12-cup Bundt pan.

Sprinkle nuts over bottom of pan. Mix all cake ingredients together. Pour batter over nuts.

Bake 1 hour.

Cool. Invert on serving plate.

Prepare glaze: Melt butter in saucepan. Stir in water and sugar. Boil 5 minutes, stirring constantly. Remove from heat. Stir in rum.

Prick top of cake.  Spoon and brush glaze evenly over top and sides. Allow cake to absorb glaze. Repeat until glaze is used up.

Source: Bacardi

HARKERS ISLAND — After nearly a year of being displaced from its building while undergoing repairs, the Core Sound Waterfowl Museum and Heritage Center is “back home again” for its summer Taste of Core Sound, featuring chef Bill Smith of Crook’s Corner in Chapel Hill.

Set for Friday, Aug. 23, the Taste of Core Sound’s five-course meal will be the first dinner prepared in the museum kitchen since the September 2018 Hurricane Florence caused extensive and costly damages to the museum’s roof, which leaked throughout the building, ruining the sheetrock, wood floors, carpets and all subfloor electrical systems.

Smith, born and raised in New Bern, retired this year after nearly three decades as the chef at Crook’s Corner. Known for his take on southern comfort food and writing about it. His writing and recipes have been included in the New York Times, Southern Living and on NPR. Read more about Smith on the Crook’s Corner website.

There will be a family style, five-course meal served featuring oysters on the half shell, shrimp and grits, hot fried fish, cold fried chicken, stewed hard crabs, summer succotash, collards and Atlantic Beach versus Harkers Island lemon pies.

The fundraiser for the museum starts at 6 p.m. in the museum, 1785 Island Road. Tickets are $65 for members and $75 for nonmembers. Call the museum at 252-728-1500 for tickets or reserve your spot online.

While the museum is being repaired, the staff is operating a Museum Store at 806 Arendell St. in Morehead City.

When it comes to burgers, forget lettuce, tomato, pickles and onion. “All the way” is code for something completely different in eastern North Carolina.

Ask for a burger all the way around this part of the state and you’re bound to get the beef loaded down with chili, onions, coleslaw and yellow mustard. Cheese is optional.

What the rest of the country calls a “Carolina burger” is what North Carolinians east of Interstate 95 know as a burger all the way. You can get them west of I-95, too, but, like barbecue, they just don’t seem to taste as good in that direction. Maybe it’s just me.

How the All The Way came to be is rooted in the first chili burger served in the 1920s at Ptomaine Tommy’s, a Los Angles restaurant in business from 1919 to 1958. As for the coleslaw, it’s been on the menu at North Carolina barbecue restaurants from the beginning. Understandably, someone figured it would work on spicy chili burgers, too. Onions and mustard added the perfect zing.

The best All The Ways come wrapped in white paper. They’re a little squashed, wonderfully messy and normally leave a tasty smear of beef-fat gloss on your lips. Look for them at old grills and drive-ins in small towns and along country roads. Soak up the nostalgia while you wait and have cash in hand. Cards usually aren’t accepted, as the burgers mostly cost less than $5. Arrive early, too. Many places close by 3 p.m.

Melvins’

133 W Broad St., Elizabethtown, 910-862-2763

Bring cash and take your place in the usually long but always fast-moving line before closing time at 5:30 p.m. Everyone goes to Melvins’. It’s often the first stop vacationers make on their way to the beach or White Lake. The same chili recipe used since opening day in 1938 goes on griddle-pressed burgers made with beef ground in-house daily. You could add cheese to the chili, slaw, mustard and onions, but that wouldn’t be a Melvins’ classic.

Wards Grill

706 S. Madison St., Whiteville, 910-642-2004

Opened in 1947, Ward’s is a Whiteville institution so popular that service starts at 7 a.m., and folks line up even though there’s no place to sit. You might have to wait outside the door until it’s your turn to fit inside. Don’t dally when you’re up. The clerk and cook maintain a speedy rhythm you don’t want to upset. The burgers are always thick, always juicy, and you may ask for extra-chili. Just be quick about it. The shop closes when burgers sell out.

Cain’s Grill

10120 N.C. Highway 53 West, White Oak, 910-866-4185

Hand-pattied burgers aren’t cooked until you place your order, which means you may have to wait, which is OK at this friendly, off-the-grid spot open since 1964. Fans have been known to drive from as far away as Fayetteville for a Cain’s All The Way. Plenty of chili and plenty of slaw go on top. Some folks like to add a splash of Texas Pete hot sauce. Closing time is 3 p.m.

Dixie Drive-In Restaurant

1930 E. 5th St., Lumberton, 910-738-8118

Although carhops come to vehicles, you’re welcome to sit inside. Choose the counter and watch cooks work the griddle and fryers. The misshapen burgers are supposed to look that way. Hand-pattied, they’re deliciously imperfect but flawlessly charred right down to some slightly crispy edges. Battered fries cut in-house are as good as the burgers. Sweet tea or a Pepsi is what eastern North Carolinians normally pair with their Carolina burgers, but at this spot, open since 1963, many people go for an old-fashioned cherry Mountain Dew. Closing time is 2 p.m. Wednesday and 4 p.m. Saturday, otherwise Dixie is open until 8 or 9 p.m.

Lane’s Ferry Food Truck

lanesferry.com

For six years, Lane’s Ferry restaurant was housed in a 1930s-era general store on Cape Fear River in Rocky Point until Hurricane Florence floods in 2018. Owners continue to serve burgers, dogs and sandwiches from a truck that make stops in Rocky Point and Hampstead. The double cheeseburger Carolina-style is smothered in cheese. Chili and finely chopped slaw are both housemade.

George’s Grille

2394 U.S. 13 North, Goldsboro

Since 1972, this super-friendly, true mom-and-pop shop has been a favorite of locals and truck drivers. Order at the window and happily head down the road with your All The Way. Always check the hours at the grill’s Facebook page. Lately, George’s is only open until 2:30 p.m. Wednesday-Saturday.

The Kitchen Palate

1007 N. Fourth St., Wilmington, on Instagram @thekitchenpalate

When the chef can get his hands on top-quality local beef, a Carolina burger is on the menu at this food truck completely hidden behind Palate Bottle Shop & Reserve wine bar in downtown’s Brooklyn Arts District. The thick patty is six-napkins-needed juicy, completely cloaked in American cheese, smothered with chili and loaded with slaw.

El’s Drive-In

3706 Arendell St., Morehead City, 252-726-3002, elsdrivein.com

Locals are so loyal to this drive-in opened in 1959 that they crave The Famous SuperBurger and The Famous SuperBurger with Cheese. That’s what El’s calls its Carolina-style burgers. Each version gets a dose of noticeably sweet, housemade slaw. Servers still come to cars to take orders until 10 p.m., 11 on Friday and Saturday. The wait can be long. Consider it a chance to remember when the delay meant more time to hang with your friends and make eyes across the parking lot at the girl or guy of your teen-age dreams.

Art’s Place Bar & Grille

4624 N. Virginia Dare Trail, Kitty Hawk, 252-261-3233, artsplaceobx.com

Beef is ground fresh on-site at this joint opened in 1978. The place changed hands in 2008, but the new owner was a regular and friend of the founder, who guided a smooth transition. Homemade chili goes on the half-pound, hand-pattied Carolina burger with American cheese. As the burger menu says, “Please, no substitutions.” Closing time is 9 p.m.

I woke up craving sweet potato biscuits, delicious enough on their own, but the vision this morning was focused on molasses. I imagined, thick ribbons of dark, smoky sweetness flowing over still-steaming butterscotch-colored biscuits.

A hundred and fifty years ago, when sugar was expensive and butter was available only if the family cow birthed a calf, assuming the family even owned a cow, coastal North Carolinians slathered molasses on biscuits.

Today, we buy molasses, so dark brown that it’s nearly black, in small jars for special recipes like Christmas gingerbread cookies. Afterwards, molasses gets pushed to the back of the cabinet, forgotten until the holidays return.

In the 1800s, however, molasses was North Carolina’s sweetener of choice. It took the bitter edge off collards, made grits, cornbread and popcorn taste better, and molasses was mandatory for pie, especially molasses pie, the ancestor of pecan pie.

Into the early 1900s, ships unloaded tons of molasses at the busy port of Wilmington. One 1920s photograph shows a tanker delivering a million gallons of molasses to a refinery that once existed in the area beneath what is now Cape Fear Memorial Bridge. The American Molasses Terminal accepted freighters at the foot of Queen and Wooster streets.

Early on, molasses arrived in casks. During summer’s extreme heat, the barrels had to be opened as soon as they were unloaded otherwise they would burst. The cautionary measure meant a boon for people hanging around the docks. They gathered the precious molasses drippings to take home.

Sweet as it is, molasses has a grim history.

From the 1600s to the early 1800s, traders sold African slaves to Caribbean sugar plantations in exchange for barrels of molasses. Ships then carried the molasses to New England, where it was turned into rum. The traders carried that rum to West Africa, where they used the liquor to barter for slaves.

The exceedingly profitable Triangular Trade made some New Englanders wealthy and convinced the British Parliament in 1733 to tax molasses imported to the colonies from the French West Indies. The tax plan helped spark the American Revolution.

Slavery continued nonetheless, and southern plantations kept great stores of molasses. In an account of her Wayne County family’s experiences during the Civil War, Harriet Cobb Lane wrote that Union troops arriving at the Cobb plantation house “rolled all the barrels filled with the year’s supply of molasses into the front hall, burst in the heads, and let the molasses run on the floor, after which they brought quantities of rice, oats, peas, meal, etc, and poured all of this on the molasses; then went up stairs, cut the featherbeds and shook the feathers down on it, and then ran horses over it, through the house.”

North Carolina knows two products referred to as molasses: blackstrap, which is the residue left from processing sugar cane into sugar, and sorghum syrup made from a cereal plant.

Sorghum, native to Africa, arrived in the New World in the 1600s and spread into the American South because the plant withstood hot summers and could be used as animal feed. Sorghum growing for syrup started in the 1800s as a cheap alternative to costly sugar.

Presses squeezed liquid from sorghum stalks, which resemble corn stalks. Boiled down, the juice became a dark brown syrup slightly thinner than molasses and possessing a sour edge as opposed to molasses’ bitterness.

As sugar became more available and affordable, especially after World War II, sorghum growers abandoned the labor-intensive syrup-making process. Home cooks traded the molasses they once said “makes everything taste better” for tiny sugar crystals that added no flavor other than sweetness and no color, thereby producing delicate cakes and cookies.

Despite the change, farmers in western North Carolina still grow sorghum and make the syrup that is often mistaken for molasses.

Molasses still shows up, albeit these days more often in fancy presentations.

Morgan’s Tavern & Grill in New Bern is known for its Molasses Chops, two 8-ounce, boneless, grilled pork chops drizzled with molasses bourbon glaze. The Peppered Cupcake in Wilmington sometimes features pork cracklings sprinkled on a sweet potato and molasses cupcake. Black garlic molasses goes with yellowfin tuna crudo at Margaux’s restaurant in Raleigh. Hole Doughnuts in Asheville serves a molasses bourbon doughnut that Bon Appetit magazine called the “best dessert” of 2016.

It all sounds delicious but not nearly as meaningful as “real biscuits” the State Farmers Market Restaurant in Raleigh serves every day with molasses.

Molasses Pie

¾ cup sugar

1 tablespoon butter, softened

3 eggs

1 cup milk

¾ cup dark molasses

1 tablespoon plain flour

1 unbaked, 9-inch pie shell

Preheat oven to 425 degrees. Combine sugar, butter, eggs, milk, molasses and flour in a large mixing bowl. Mix well. Pour into the pie shell. Bake pie for 10 minutes at 425 degrees and then lower the oven heat to 400 degrees and continue baking pie until filling is set.

Source: “Coastal Carolina Cooking” (University of North Carolina Press, 1986)

MOREHEAD CITY – Though the Core Sound Waterfowl Museum and Heritage Center on Harkers Island is still undergoing much-needed repairs to the facility Hurricane Florence damaged in September, its staff and volunteers won’t let that setback get in the way of a good meal and fellowship.

The annual winter edition of Taste of Core Sound will be hosted this year at Southern Salt, owned by Sammy Boyd, on the Morehead City waterfront. Set for Feb. 22, traditional winter seafood and wild game dishes will be served at the special event hosted by The Redhead Society, Core Sound’s educational programming fund.

In addition to a spread that represents Down East cuisine, there will be a program featuring a presentation by Robbie Smith of the Carolina Decoy Collectors Association discussing Shorebird Hunting on Core Sound.

“Antique shorebird decoys are the epitome of great Southern folk art. They are an unintentional art form which were made and used to attract and kill shorebirds for food. The story of shorebird hunting in North Carolina is a part of our heritage which needs to be told and the decoys are an art form which needs to be celebrated and enjoyed,” Robbie Smith said in a statement.

Tickets are $50 per person for museum members and $65 per person for new members. Tickets are available at Core Sound’s Museum Store, 806 Arendell St., Morehead City; by calling 252-728-1500; or visit at online www.coresound.com. All proceeds to the Core Sound Waterfowl Museum and Heritage Center Redhead Society for Education Programs.

“We couldn’t do this event now after the storm damaged our building without Sammy’s willingness to share his restaurant, cooks, kitchen and energy with Core Sound to keep this winter event on our calendar,” said Karen Amspacher, Core Sound Museum Director in a statement. “Sammy has agreed to close his business that evening to help us. This fundraiser for our educational programming is much needed this year as we make plans for school groups this spring and our summer camps this summer.”

There will be time to check out the silent auction and visit the cash bar starting at 6 p.m., while hot crab dip will be served alongside Down East egg rolls, one of Southern Salt’s signature recipes.

The buffet, to be served at 7 p.m., will feature conch stew, fried oysters, baked scallops, stewed ducks and rutabagas, fried shrimp, chicken and pastry, winter collards, sweet potatoes, homemade slaw, light rolls and Albert’s famous lemon pie.

The silent auction will feature decoys donated by Core Sound Decoy Carvers Guild members, along with hunting gear and other outdoor equipment for outdoorsmen. Bidding will take place online at www.coresound.com starting Feb 12 and wrap up when Taste of Core Sound comes to a close.

The night will close with a live auction of redhead decoys, including a contemporary decoy by Kelly Nelson, a contemporary working decoy carved by Patrick Eubanks and donated by Dr. Stan Rule and a hard-to-find heritage decoy by the late David A. Lawrence.  A special auction item will be a “Carving Day with Brother Gaskill,” one of Core Sound’s award-winning carvers and a teacher-mentor for new carvers.

“We are especially thankful for these contributions of time and talent from these carvers and contributors. These funds will be help bring back the strong educational programs Core Sound offers,” said Dr. Ike Southerland, Chairman of the Redhead Society.

Florence caused major damage to the museum’s roof, leading to leaks throughout the building that caused major sheetrock damage along with the wood floors, carpets and all subfloor electrical systems.

While staff took precautions to protect artifacts and art, none of which were damaged, the museum still has a long path head. As of mid-February, the museum faces a yearlong setback to operations, visitation and museum programming. Museum staff have been working from home and alternate locations to maintain contributions.

In the meantime, Core Sound’s Museum Store is operating at 806 Arendell St. in Morehead City.

What’s the best food for New Year’s Day? The food that brings you good luck, of course.

Lucky foods for New Year’s might mean a fish fry to ensure long life or a big pot of collards guaranteeing plenty of cash. Fried oysters, grilled oysters or oyster stew could help in the, um, romance department – if you believe.

We dug through Coastal Review Online’s recipe files to find our favorite New Year’s lucky foods. The big bonus is they all go well together, which means you can guarantee yourself good fortune, prosperity, longevity and true love all in one meal.

Black-eyed peas

Some people believe black-eyed peas bring straight-up good luck. Others think they symbolize all the coins destined for your pocket in the coming year. Why? No one knows for sure. Black-eyed peas came to the New World on slave ships from Africa. After the Civil War, slaves were officially freed on Emancipation Day Jan. 1. Another theory pins the idea to good luck foods that Jewish communities served in the South. One of the most delicious recipes is Low Country hoppin’ john, a dish of black-eyed peas and rice seasoned with spices, onions and bacon, or other pork cuts like ham hocks, salt pork or fatback.

Get the recipe: Hoppin’ John

Collards

If you’ve lived in eastern North Carolina for any length of time, you know that you must eat collard greens on New Year’s Day if you plan to have plenty of money in the coming year. The vegetable’s color and thin leaves’ resemblance to greenbacks give the sense of banking cash, even if it is just in your belly.

Get the recipe: Classic Stewed Collards

Seafood

“Eat fish, live longer. Eat oysters, love longer” are words often seen on bumper stickers along the North Carolina coast. In parts of the world, fish with shiny scales are considered a lucky New Year’s food because the scales resemble silver. The Japanese eat shrimp to assure long life. In China, it’s whole fish for the same reason. Fish’s promised effects are not all legends. Doctors agree that omega 3 fatty acids in oily fins like mullet, mackerel and bluefish are good for you. Oysters? That’s still a matter of opinion. No scientific studies prove they kindle the urge, but it’s always lucky to get an invitation to a New Year’s Day oyster roast.

Get the recipe: Fish Fry

Get the recipe: Mable Smith’s Baked Flounder with Potatoes

Get the recipe: Charcoal Mullet

Get the recipe: Oyster Stew

Get the recipe: Crab-stuffed Shrimp

Cornbread

As the saying goes, “Peas for pennies, greens for dollars and cornbread for gold.” Whether you believe it or not, you’re truly blessed when this trio lands on the dinner table. Whether it’s baked in corn-shaped molds, steamed as dumplings atop a pot full of collards or fried in a cast iron skillet, cornbread is tasty and filling. Don’t forget hushpuppies with fish. That’s cornbread, too.

Get the recipes: Traditional Southern-style Cornbread, Deep-fried Cornbread and Jalapeno Cornbread

Get the recipe: Sanitary Restaurant Hush Puppies from Morehead City

We were so proud of the cheese ball we made that Christmas Eve afternoon. I blended gorgonzola, cheddar and cream cheese, folded in spiced-rum-soaked raisins, added dashes of nutmeg, ground cloves, too, and then rolled the whole thing in chopped pecans my boyfriend had toasted on the wood stove.

Full of patting each other on the back as we slathered cracker after cracker with what was surely the most envious cheese ball in all of eastern North Carolina, the two of us decided we should text a photo to the finest cook among our best kayaking buddies.

Beaming at the ding of his reply, certain it was a lip-smacking emoji, we grabbed the phone only to be deflated. A photo and its caption clearly indicated our defeat.

“Sausage balls ?”

When it comes to holiday nibbles in North Carolina, nothing beats these mini-meatball morsels of pork and cheddar cheese. Experiencing a Christmas without sausage balls is like waking up to no presents under the tree.

Throughout December, sausage balls show up on just about every coastal Carolina party table. Hundreds of them stacked on a regal silver tray or packed tightly in plastic containers send the message: “Eat your fill.”

Most people do.

Proper Preparation

Each sausage ball is everything – salty, spicy, savory, succulent. That is, if you prepare sausage balls correctly, which only sounds easy. The basic sausage ball recipe calls for three ingredients: sausage, cheddar cheese and Bisquick baking mix. Perfect sausage balls, however, require practice and finesse.

Achieving bold, irresistible flavor and spot-on crisp-to-tender ratio means choosing a zesty but not overly spiced sausage and sharp but not too dry cheddar. As for Bisquick, add a measure that merely binds the sausage and cheese.

Why Bisquick? Sometime after Minnesota-based General Mills introduced the baking mix in 1931, the company created a sausage balls recipe as one of many ways to use the convenience product. Sausage balls went on to become one of the most requested recipes, General Mills reported at its Betty Crocker website.

You could, of course, forgo the partially-hydrogenated-oil-laced baking mix in favor of a homemade mix of flour, leavening, salt and fat. Sausage balls appear to have started closer to that method back in medieval Winchester, where monks in the late 1400s ate morterells. Cinnamon and chopped onions seasoned a half-and-half combination of sausage and bread crumbs that was shaped into small balls, simmered gently and then fried in lard until golden brown.

Although more elaborate than today’s sausage balls, morterells were considered humble, daily fare, likely a way to stretch meat supplies.

Cinnamon sounds like an interesting twist on the Bisquick recipe. Some people add chopped pecans or chopped jalapenos to sausage balls. Better Crocker continually updates the recipe according to changing tastes. The latest version calls for minced rosemary. Another suggests shredded apples. Milk is recommended to help keep sausage balls moist.

I once made sausage balls with Italian sausage and provolone cheese, and although they were yummy, I don’t recommend the recipe. Nor do I advise homemade biscuit mix. North Carolinians don’t like sausage balls to stray from the simple original.

Tar Heels may tinker with the amount of Bisquick and cheese they use. Some like a moister texture and add less Bisquick. Cheese lovers add more cheddar. That’s about as far as they’ll wander. Fiddle too much with the three-ingredient formula and you might as well put Santa Claus in a purple suit.

When rolling sausage balls, “the most important thing is to make it the perfect size. It has to fit in your mouth in one bite,” Fayetteville Technical Community College chef and culinary instructor Nadia Minniti said.

Minniti suggests each sausage ball be 1½ inches in diameter, about the size of a walnut. Try using a spring-loaded mini scoop to insure each sausage ball rolls out to the same size.

Sausage balls must bake exactly long enough that their bottoms become barely crunchy while the inside remains moist and tender. Temperature recommendations vary from 350 to 400 degrees. The hotter the oven, the higher risk of dry sausage balls, which aren’t so bad. Sausage balls are sort of like pizza in my opinion. I’ve never eaten one I didn’t like.

Betty Crocker recipe developers suggest adding ½ cup of milk to this recipe to ensure moist sausage balls. Choose sausage with a little bite. Many North Carolinians prefer the Greensboro-based Neese’s brand, which sells its original country sausage recipe, spicy “hot” sausage and one with extra sage. Sausage balls may be rolled, frozen and baked straight from the freezer. You may also bake, freeze and then reheat. They’re delicious served warm or at room temperature. Some people load cooked sausage balls in a crock pot, cover them in barbecue sauce and serve them warm straight from the pot, Minniti said.

Sausage Balls

3 cups Original Bisquick mix

1 pound uncooked bulk pork sausage

4 cups shredded cheddar cheese (16 ounces)

Heat oven to 350 degrees. Lightly grease bottom and sides of jelly roll pan, 15½-by-10½ inches in size.

In large bowl, stir together Bisquick, sausage and cheese using your hands or a heavy spoon. A stand mixer works well, too, but mix lightly to avoid a dense texture. Shape mixture into 1-inch balls. Place in pan.

Bake 20 to 25 minutes or until brown. Immediately remove from pan. Serve warm or at room temperature.

Makes about 100 sausage balls.

Cheddar Apple Sausage Balls

1 pound bulk pork sausage with sage

2½ cups shredded sharp cheddar cheese (10 ounces)

2 cups Original Bisquick baking mix

1 Braeburn apple, peeled and shredded (about 2 cups of shredded apple) 

Paprika, if desired

Heat oven to 400 degrees. Line cookie sheets with cooking parchment paper.

In large bowl, mix sausage, cheese, baking mix and apple with hands until well blended. Shape mixture into 1½-inch balls; place 1 inch apart on cookie sheets.

Bake 12 to 14 minutes or until golden brown and no longer pink. Sprinkle lightly with paprika. Serve warm.

Makes about 40 sausage balls.

Source: All recipes from bettycrocker.com

In the holiday rush to make everyone happy, macaroni and cheese is the great unifier.

Just about everyone loves mac and cheese. It’s among America’s top 10 comfort foods. Kraft sells upwards of a million boxes a day. Crayola even has a crayon hue called “macaroni and cheese.”

And who could stay angry over political and religious debates at the table when a hot, bubbly casserole of creamy, cheesy pasta gets passed around?

Baking dishes full of macaroni and cheese bless many eastern North Carolina Thanksgiving and Christmas tables, but does it belong between traditional roasted turkey, glazed ham and collard greens?

Thirty-five percent of Southeastern households serve mac and cheese as a Thanksgiving side dish, 15 percent more than the rest of the country, opinion poll analysis website FiveThirtyEight found in 2015. That same year, half of the 1,000 people who responded to a Country Crock survey said they wanted to add macaroni and cheese to the holiday lineup.

Thomas Jefferson put macaroni and cheese on the South’s radar. While traveling in Italy, he and his chef and slave James Hemmings encountered pasta mixed with grated parmesan cheese. Jefferson recorded copious notes on pasta making and brought the recipe back to Virginia.

Soon after, Jefferson purchased a mold for making tube-shaped pasta. He also imported macaroni and parmesan cheese. In 1802, Congressman Manasseh Cutler of Massachusetts wrote of “a pie called macaroni” that he ate at one of then-President Jefferson’s White House state dinners.

Jefferson and his fancy guests weren’t the only people eating mac and cheese.

When Charlotte Observer food writer Kathleen Purvis noticed that more blacks than whites considered macaroni and cheese a necessary Thanksgiving dish, she decided to find out why.

Macaroni and cheese long predates its American history. Around the 1300s, something called “de lasanis” in Italy meant pasta squares tossed with grated cheese, likely parmesan.

A printed recipe calling for cheddar, béchamel sauce and macaroni showed up in the late 1700s in Britain. In 1824, America’s then-most-influential cookbook, “The Virginia Housewife” by Mary Randolph, included a macaroni and cheese recipe that instructed cooks to layer macaroni, cheese and butter in a pan and bake the combination in a hot oven.

The recipe spread across the U.S. through the rest of the 19th century and into the 20th. Because macaroni and cheese is so decadently rich, fans forget that it has always been a cheap way to fill up on protein and carbohydrates, hence its wide appeal.

Kraft sealed mac ‘n’ cheese’s fate as a low-dollar comfort food when the company introduced a convenient boxed macaroni and cheese kit in 1937. Suddenly, everybody was eating macaroni and cheese.

Americans love boxed mac and cheese, but it can never match homemade versions. The best smothers sauce-grabbing elbow- or shell-shaped pasta in Mornay sauce made with sharp cheddar. The macaroni then gets layered with more shredded cheddar and crowned with a bread crumb crust that gets crispy brown during baking. That’s my opinion, anyway. I’ve met cooks who add egg yolks, swear by processed Velveeta “cheese” or doll up the dish with shrimp, crab or pulled pork. One chef I know likes to slide a sunny-side-up egg on top of brisket-enriched mac and cheese.

The only bad mac and cheese is a dry mac and cheese. In that case, just say “Pass the gravy, please.”

Baked Macaroni and Cheese

For the Mornay sauce:

3 tablespoons butter

4 tablespoons flour

2 cups whole milk, warmed

1 small bay leaf

1 whole clove

½ garlic bulb, peeled

1 tablespoon Dijon mustard

½ teaspoon salt

¼ teaspoon pepper

½ cup grated sharp cheddar cheese

To finish:

1 pound pasta, cooked (elbows or shells)

2 cups grated sharp cheddar cheese

½ cup bread crumbs

For the Mornay sauce: Place a medium, heavy saucepan over medium-high heat. When the pan has heated, add butter. When butter has melted, remove pan from heat and add flour, stirring until well blended. Return pan to heat and cook flour, stirring constantly, for 30 seconds. Remove pan from heat again and whisk in half of the milk. Return pan to the heat and whisk in remaining milk. Drop bay leaf, clove and garlic to the mixture. Bring sauce to a boil, stirring constantly. Reduce heat and simmer until sauce has thickened, stirring often. Whisk in mustard, salt and pepper. Remove pan from heat. Stir ½ cup of sharp cheddar into sauce until melted. Taste sauce for seasoning, adding more salt, mustard or cheese to taste.

Preheat oven to 400 degrees.

Mix cooked pasta with Mornay sauce. Pour half of the pasta into a large casserole dish. Top with 1 cup of grated sharp cheddar cheese. Place remaining pasta in the baking dish. Top with remaining 1 cup sharp cheddar cheese. Sprinkle bread crumbs over casserole. Bake for 15 minutes or until casserole is bubbly.

Serves 6.

Source: Liz Biro

]]> https://coastalreview.org/2018/11/our-coasts-thanksgiving-recipe-roundup/ Mon, 19 Nov 2018 05:00:32 +0000 https://www.coastalreview.org/?p=33683 The best Thanksgiving recipes also tell North Carolina’s food story, says food columnist Liz Biro.]]>

When it comes to finding the best Thanksgiving (and Friendsgiving) recipes ever, we like to dig into the Coastal Review archives.

The people along North Carolina’s shore have their own way with Thanksgiving. Sure, they serve turkey, stuffing, gravy and pie, but they like to sub in seafood here and there, play around with sweet potatoes that grow so well in the region and add a couple unexpected ultra-rich desserts.

These aren’t just our favorite Thanksgiving recipes. Each one has a story to tell about our coast’s food culture, and that makes for delicious conversation at the Thanksgiving table.

Collards

Some cooks start by simmering a few ham hocks for a couple hours and then add “a mess of greens” to the pot. Others fry strips of fatback bacon in a big stock pot before adding collards and water. Either way, the monster leaves must be simmered for a couple hours to achieve the tender, dark green, just-bitter greens and an intensely savory broth known down South as “potlikker.” In Carteret County’s Down East communities, folks like to add cornmeal dumplings on top.

Get the recipe: Classic Stewed Collards

Get the recipe: Cornmeal Dumplings

Sweet potato casserole

When we dug into the history of candied yams, we discovered lots of contemporary sweet potato casserole ideas. Chefs might top candied sweet potatoes with nuts, herbs, granola, cornbread, parmesan cheese or bread crumbs. Some recipes suggest adding roasted chestnuts, crumbled bacon, chipotle chilies, lemon juice, orange zest, garlic, mushrooms, cranberries or dried apricots to the sweet potatoes. Our version calls for a honey bourbon glaze and cranberry streusel dotted with marshmallows.

Get the recipe: Contemporary Candied Yams

Oyster stuffing

Hardly a cook on the North Carolina coast gets through the Thanksgiving season without thinking about oyster stuffing.  The name itself evokes visions of plump oysters hidden in a fluffy blend of herbs, breadcrumbs and rich stock, a dish so luxurious it begs a silver dish rather than a place inside the holiday turkey.

Get the recipe: Oyster Stuffing

Lightning rolls

Some folks along the N.C. coast call them “lightning rolls” or “light bread.” Others say “hot rolls” or “yeast rolls.” No matter the name, these buttery, golden brown yeast rolls baked with a dash of sugar are always a hit, especially for leftover turkey sandwiches.

Get the recipe: Lightning Rolls

Pig Pickin’ Cake

North Carolina gets credit for the pig pickin’ cake because of the treat’s name and how it perfectly cools the palate after a tangy pulled pork dinner. The sweet mountain is so loved across the state that it has expanded beyond pig pickin’s. When the New York Times in 2014 asked Google to find out which dishes residents of each state searched most often for Thanksgiving, pig pickin’ cake was North Carolina’s No. 1. Cool Whip frosting full of pecans, canned crushed pineapple and instant vanilla pudding covers three vanilla orange cake layers prepared from a boxed mix.

Get the recipe: Pig Pickin’ Cake

Sweet potato pie

Ten years after Sir Walter Raleigh attempted to establish a settlement at Roanoke Island, England’s John Gerard wrote about the sweet potato in his 1597 “Great Herball,” or “Generall Historie of Plantes,” in which he suggested “that the sweet potato “comforts, strengthens, and nourishes the body.”The perfect sweet potato pie is a balance of creaminess, sweetness and spices against a sturdy, savory crust. The filling is so smooth and flavorful, no ice cream or whipped cream garnish is required.

Get the recipe: Sweet Potato Pie

Mrs. Geneva Todd laid out a spread so succulent I wasn’t sure where to look first. Dishes and bowls crowded cloth-covered tables pushed together on the lumpy green lawn carpeting her back yard. As adults shooed flies and fretted over where to fit more food, my 8-year-old eyes scanned delights of which I never saw in the New Jersey home my parents had just left for life on the North Carolina coast.

There were skillet-fried disks folks called “cornbread,” green beans stewed so soft with little potatoes, pole beans simmered with bacon and tiny, black-pepper-flecked butter beans, pale green and nothing like the giant, white limas my brother and I despised choking down.

Many of the preparations that summer day were foreign to me, but I recognized most ingredients, except one: long green pods limp in a bowl of clear liquid that rose like sticky goo each time someone spooned up a heaping helping.

When I asked, “What’s that green stuff?” my mother rolled her eyes. “I have no idea.” Mrs. Todd gave me a gentle, “Oh honey, you won’t like those.”

That was my family’s first encounter with okra, a vegetable that initially drew our winces and later won our love.

Okra doesn’t make friends easily. People don’t mind when it’s hidden in the Creole gumbos that the vegetable’s slime famously thickens. On its own, though, okra is an old-timer’s favorite that has never charmed the masses.

Yet, there’s much to love about okra, especially on the Carolina coast where hot, humid summers squash so many garden dreams. As tomato plants wither and worms eat their way through struggling cucumber vines, okra stalks spring tall, up to 6 feet, in even the driest soil on the hottest days. Drive down country roads and the plants’ abundant, butter-yellow flowers, deep magenta centers, catch your eye even at a distance. Each blossom produces the pods whose mild flavor is usually compared to eggplant.

Likely an African native, okra landed in America via the slave trade, and it’s been African cooks who have served okra’s tastiest preparations throughout the South. The Bantu word for okra is “ki ngombo,” which may be the origin of the word gumbo. Gullah cooks of South Carolina’s Lowcountry created Limping Susan, a well-known, bacon-seasoned okra and rice dish akin to Hoppin’ John.

Choosing small, tender pods and taming the goo is key to okra’s acceptance at the dinner table. Southern cooks boil, fry, sauté or grill whole okra, the stem barely trimmed, to keep the mucilage contained.

That’s not to say cooks down South are averse to cut okra. One of the few widely popular okra dishes involves slices fried in a skilled with cornmeal or completely breaded with cornmeal and deep-fried. The meal grabs the slime and adds sandy crispness to okra’s tender texture.

My mother fried sliced okra, sans cornmeal, in a heavy skillet, adding fresh, chopped hot pepper and plenty of salt. The slime browned the okra, making it almost crunchy. I still crave the flavor and recreate the dish as soon as okra season arrives, late summer in eastern North Carolina.

Okra made its way around the world, landing in Asian, Indian, Mediterranean and Middle Eastern recipes. Some cultures even eat the leaves, and seeds may be roasted for coffee.

These days, I also like to slowly pan roast whole okra over low heat in a cast-iron skillet to which I add a little grapeseed oil. I turn the okra now and then to brown all sides and sometimes pour a small amount of water into pan to help steam-soften the pods as they brown. During the last few minutes of cooking, I sprinkle on Indian spices like turmeric, cumin and whole black mustard seeds. Prepared this way, okra has a nice chew and welcomes a cool yogurt dipping sauce.

Of course, stewing sliced okra is the sure-fire way the vegetable wins favor. That’s how my family fell for okra. Within a couple summers of our arrival in Onslow County, my mother was paling around with Mrs. Todd and other neighbors. The ladies had a knack for finding small farms and prolific vegetable gardens whose tenders allowed the women to pick and pay.

Back home, after the morning harvests, they cut sweet corn fresh off the cob and chopped their own homegrown tomatoes. They stewed the two together with okra and salty bacon fat to produce a dish they simply called “corn and okra.”

By lunchtime, Mrs. Todd’s table would be laden with the bright, slightly thick stew, still in its pan, alongside biscuits or fried cornbread, more stewed tomatoes on rice, sliced fresh tomatoes, sometimes butter beans, sometimes cucumber salad and always crunchy fatback slice that they had rendered to season the cooked vegetables.

The menu was duplicated many July and August days, and we kids all ate heartily. I don’t remember any of us asking, “What’s that green stuff.”

Corn and Okra

4 quarter-inch slices of fatback

1 small onion, finely chopped

1 pint whole okra, stems trimmed and pods cut into ½-inch slices

3 or 4 large tomatoes, diced

4 large ears of sweet corn, scrapped

Sugar to taste

Salt and pepper to taste

Dash of Texas Pete, if desired

Place a deep, heavy skillet over medium heat. When skillet is hot, add fatback and cook slowly until fat is rendered and slices are hard and crunchy. Remove fatback from pan and set aside. Add onions and okra to the skillet and cook for 10 minutes, stirring constantly. Add corn and tomatoes. Taste and season with salt if needed. Cover and simmer until okra is tender, about 25 minutes. Stir occasionally. Remove lid, taste stew and adjust seasonings, adding salt and pepper if needed. If the stew tastes acidic, add pinches of sugar, tasting after each addition until stew’s flavor is balanced. Makes 4 to 6 servings.

A wax-paper-lined, red plastic basket full of hush puppies and soft butter for dipping is the amuse bouche at proper fried seafood restaurants along the North Carolina coast. Seeing hush puppies on menus far from the state’s shores can shock Tar Heels, which is why my mouth fell agape in the landlocked city of Indianapolis.

There, in an urban center foreign to the “one, two or three” seafood combination platter, I saw the deep-fried cornbread lumps called “hush puppies” at fancy places to eat.

The hush puppies I discovered nowhere near the stacked wire crab pots and docked shrimp boats of my Onslow County home were nonetheless stuffed with crab or shrimp. They were plump, cakey morsels, fried crusty bronze outside and full of sweet corn flavor. Hot pepper honey or citrus aioli dips were served on the side.

Turns out, hush puppies are finally getting their 15 minutes on new American menus that have taken over the United States.

Deemed the “ultimate comfort food appetizer” by delish.com in late 2017, hush puppies star in America’s 2018 regional comfort food trend. We crave Kentucky Hot Browns, New Mexico’s green chili stew and North Carolina’s hush puppies.

Alas, North Carolina doesn’t own hush puppies.

Current hush puppy mania at hip restaurants may date to landlocked central Texas. Chef Sean Frye served jumbo shrimp and lump crab hush puppies at Shuck-N-Jive Restaurant near Dallas. His recipe won wholesaler US Foods’ 2012 Next Top Product contest. As a result, Frye’s hush puppies became a nationally distributed US Foods product.

Hush puppies have been around way longer than their recent glory, nearly 300 years, according to some accounts.

Florida Gulf Coast hunters and camp cooks of the 1920s usually get credit as the first to toss cornmeal fritters to their baying hounds. As soon as the dogs finished the treat they were no doubt howling for more. Plain hush puppies taste that good.

Folks in St. Marks, Florida, have claimed that the late City Cafe, established in 1929 and later renamed Posey’s, was the hush puppy’s native home. “Important deals were made over baskets of fried fish and (co-owner) Birdie (Coggins’) famous, secret-recipe hush puppies,” Bruce Hunt wrote in “Visiting Small-Town Florida” (Pineapple Press, 2013).

Meantime, up in North Carolina, Harkers Island fishers said they were the first to spare a little fish-frying batter for dog treats.

Another story points to Confederate soldiers who supposedly silenced their canines with fried bread as Union troops approached. Yet one more tale recognizes French Ursuline nuns who in the early 1700s settled in what would become New Orleans. The nuns called their fried corn cakes “croquettes de maise.”

Calming hunger appears the most likely hush puppy pedigree. Native Americans were cooking with cornmeal when settlers arrived in the future United States. Later, Africans captured into U.S. slavery continued their homeland’s deep-fried cooking methods.

After the Civil War, Romeo Govan, born into slavery in 1845, was known in South Carolina for preparing fish feasts that included “red horse bread.” Govan fried spoonfuls of cornmeal batter in lard, South Carolina culinary historian Robert F. Moss writes in “The Real History of Hushpuppies” at seriouseats.com. The fish species redhorse populates South Carolina rivers.

Govan died in 1915, but serving red horse bread at fish fries spread throughout South Carolina.

Moss argues that hush puppies were considered too tasty to toss to the dogs. Rather, the name probably referred to muting a growling stomach, as the term “hush-puppy” previously meant gravy or pot liquor.

Today, the hush puppy as deep-fried cornbread is recognized across the country, even as chefs try to elevate the humble food with enriched batter and creative dipping sauces. No matter if inventive cooks mound caviar onto hush puppies, fill them with pulled pork or serve them alongside cilantro green goddess dressing, a hush puppy still looks and tastes like a lump or finger of fried cornbread.

Oftentimes, so many deliciously addictive, old-fashioned hush puppies are eaten at seafood restaurants that everyone’s full by the time the fried fish, shrimp and oyster platters arrive.

Understandably, nary a bit of criticism is barked.

The inspiration for the famous American dish Oysters Rockefeller had nothing to do with oysters or billionaire oil tycoon John D. Rockefeller and certainly not with North Carolina foodways, except that the dish is so enduring many chefs along the state’s shore serve a version of their own.

Oysters on the half shell crowned with a buttery roux full of chopped, fresh herbs and then broiled until the topping becomes just crusty was invented at the legendary New Orleans restaurant Antoine’s.

The year was 1899.  Rockefeller controlled the nation’s oil industry while Antoine’s chef Jules Alciatore faced a shortage of French snails. He needed an escargot substitute.

Trained in Paris, Alciatore took the idea of France’s classic escargots à la Bourguignonne recipe, which relies on butter and herbs, and applied it to oysters. He added some twists and named his new, ultra-rich dish after the richest man in America.

Rockefeller apparently never tried the creation. It was a hit, nonetheless, and remains on menus nationwide to this day, even though the recipe is top-secret.

“Jules Alciatore on his deathbed reportedly demanded eternal secrecy from all who knew just exactly what went into that shell,” according to the book “New Orleans Cuisine: Fourteen Signature Dishes and Their Histories” (University Press of Mississippi, 2009).

Antoine’s owners still honor Alciatore’s order, but longtime New Orleans food writer Tom Fitzmorris is certain the recipe he published in his 2006 book “Tom Fitzmorris’ New Orleans Food: More Than 250 of the City’s Best Recipes” is as close as any cook can hope to get to the original formula.

Recipe analysts generally agree Oysters Rockefeller at Antoine’s contain butter, parsley and bread crumbs. Fitzmorris expands the list to celery, green onion, watercress, fennel and other seasonings including ketchup and New Orleans’ own Peychaud’s Bitters, created in 1830.

Fitzmorris reported that Bernard Guste, the fifth-generation proprietor of Antoine’s, declared the recipe “embarrassingly close to the real thing.”

Back in 1912, Winnipeg Free Press writer Jane Eddington claimed to have been handed the recipe by Alciatore himself, according to research at foodtimeline.org.

“Jules is extremely reluctant about giving away the secrets of his kitchen, but after some coaxing he was induced to part with the following while slowly sipping his cognac after luncheon,” Eddington wrote in the March 27, 1912, edition of the Canadian newspaper.

“Huitres en Coquille a la Rockefeller–Raw oysters with a dressing made as follows, the quantity of the ingredients to depend upon the size of the order. One bunch of shallots, one bunch of parsley, two pounds of butter, one bottle of Spanish walnuts, half a bunch of tarragon leaves, two stale loaves of French bread, salt and pepper, and a liberal sprinkling of tabasco sauce. All of these things are pounded into a pulp in a mortar, and then ground in a sausage machine, the mass being finally passed through a needle sifter. The oysters on the half shell are covered with the sauce and then placed in a hot oven to bake just three minutes. The oysters must be served at once.”

Was Alciatore pulling Eddington’s leg? Was Guste trying to keep Fitzmorris off track. Who knows?

What’s certain is that Oysters Rockefeller is not what most restaurants today pass off as the real thing: oysters baked under a blanket of creamed spinach, bacon and parmesan cheese. It seems Alciatore’s secret recipe inspired a baked oysters craze that takes on many forms.

Along the North Carolina coast, Oysters Rockefeller has lots of cousins.

The versions that feel most like a taste of the Carolina coast feature local, salty oysters and collards that grow so well in the region’s sandy soil. Creamed collards and onion bacon jam top baked oysters at City Kitchen in Beaufort. The Boiler Room menu in Kinston lists Oyster Boilerfeller wearing collards, bacon, spicy tomato and shaved Parmesan.

Visitors to the Outer Banks food festival Taste of the Beach 2018 will be treated to Oysters Rockefeller made with arugula, gouda cheese and tasso ham March 22 at Outer Banks Brewing Station.

Brie and roasted garlic go on Oysters Mon Louis at Ocracoke Oyster Co. on Ocracoke Island. Fresh spinach, peppered bacon, gorgonzola and white wine cream sauce is the combination at Provisions in Southern Shores.

At Pinpoint in Wilmington, baked oysters are served three ways: Rockefeller, with wilted greens, Benton’s bacon and Pernod; Piperade, with chilis and cornbread; and Hollandaise, with blue crab and whey hot sauce.

Chargrilled oysters at The Pilot House, also in Wilmington, mean smoky morsels beneath butter, parmesan, garlic, panko crumbs, lemon, hot sauce, cayenne, and chives. Years ago, the restaurant served a different riff on Oysters Rockefeller. Chefs spooned tender, chopped collards into the half shells and then laid the oysters on the greens. Country ham, blue cheese and chopped pecans were the finishing touches, a masterpiece that surely would have inspired Alciatore himself.

Front page featured photo: larryjh1234/flickr

If you listed the definitive pies of North Carolina, you would surely start with sweet potato. Pecan might be next, or take top billing, depending on your personal taste. Scuppernong grape, maybe even grape hull pie, deserves a place, as do blueberry and fresh strawberry.

Along the state’s shore, you’d add one more pie, as Jessie Lee Babb Dominique made clear to me years ago when we sat down to talk about her Christmas memories growing up on Portsmouth Island.

Born in the late 1920s and living on Portsmouth until the early 1940s, Dominique remembered what she called “cream pies” playing a huge role on the holiday table. She didn’t mean coconut cream pie or the famous Down East lemon cream pie in a Ritz cracker crust.

Dominique described a custard pie filling in which the baker could fruit if desired. Cream pies were prized among the many desserts Dominique’s single Aunt Elma “Addie” Dixon baked in a kerosene stove for Christmas.

“Mama would say, ‘Addie, why are you making all those pies and cakes? There’s nobody but you.’ And Addie would say, ‘Well, I want to make sure if somebody comes in that I’ll have it so I can give ’em a piece of it,” Dominique said.

“And this is why they made so many. Because people did visit.”

Dominique has since passed away. Every year, at Christmastime, I envision the cream pies she so lovingly spoke about.

North Carolina’s bygone barrier island communities didn’t invent cream pies. The desserts started with coastal natives’ British ancestors. The Brits had a penchant for puddings that cooks eventually began baking in pastry-lined pans. That happened occasionally in 1600s and more frequently by the 1700s.

Canned evaporated milk set the stage for American cream pies in the first half of the 20^th century. Old-fashioned custard pies remain cherished recipes throughout the southern United States.

Dating to the mid-1800s, canned milk fueled Union soldiers during the Civil War. By the late 1800s, the public could buy it, too. The well-known Carnation brand of evaporated milk brand debuted in 1899, but evaporated milk was not widely available until the 1920s.

Shelf-stable and far richer-tasting than milk, canned milk was a dream come true for early 20^th century households without refrigeration.

In 1931, the popular Borden Co. offered homemakers $25 for their original recipes using Eagle Brand sweetened condensed milk, which is evaporated milk thickened with sugar. More than 80,000 recipes were submitted, the company reports.

Canned milk could be transported by boat to the North Carolina barrier islands and stored for long periods. Evaporated milk lands in quite a few popular coastal Carolina creamy pie recipes, including raisin pie and that Down East lemon pie. Canned milk is also in pineapple pie, another Portsmouth Island holiday favorite that Dominique pointed out. The filling contains canned crushed pineapple stirred into egg yolks, sugar, butter and evaporated milk.

A basic cream filling like the one that goes into pineapple pie is offered by cook Pat Lane in “Island Born and Bred,” a community cookbook collection of Harkers Island recipes, lore and history compiled in the late 1980s by the Harkers Island United Methodist Women. Lane suggests adding either grated lemon zest, coconut or crushed pineapple to the filling.

Core Sound Waterfowl Museum and Heritage Center executive director Karen Willis Amspacher’s old-fashioned egg custard pie recipe requires a similar list of ingredients, minus the fruit.

Cream pies weren’t just for holiday time. Another recipe in the book is akin to a peach version of Dominique’s family’s cream pies. Flour and evaporated milk are heated together and then mixed with fresh peaches, sugar, eggs, butter and vanilla.

Dominique clearly recalled the desserts in screened cool houses. Island residents used the little house-shape structures to cool or keep foods cool. How anyone walking by resisted nabbing a slice pie could well be one of the greatest mysteries of Portsmouth Island.

Basic Cream Pie Filling

2 cups sugar

½ cup all-purpose flour

3 egg yolks, beaten

3 cups evaporated milk

1 tablespoon vanilla extract

½ stick margarine

In the top of a double boiler, stir together sugar and flour well blended. Add egg yolks. Pour in milk and mix well. At this point, you may add the zest of 2 lemons, a 20-ounce can of crushed pineapple drained or 3 cups of sliced fresh peaches. Add vanilla and margarine. Place on top of double boiler and cook over low heat until thickened. Divide filling between two 9-inch baked pie crusts. Cool in the refrigerator for several hours before serving. Makes 16 servings.

Source: Based on a recipe in “Island Born and Bred” (Harkers Island United Methodist Women, 1987)

HARKERS ISLAND – For the past 25 years, the Core Sound Waterfowl Museum and Heritage Center has made its focus those who call Down East home.

Those long-remembered names that have been woven into local lore as well as the volunteers and staff who have spent tireless hours doing any and everything from spending the day frying seafood in a hot kitchen to chasing down memorabilia for an exhibit have been commemorated with the museum’s 25^th anniversary documentary, “Core Sound’s Place,” that will be shown in its entirety for the first time during the annual Taste of Core Sound summer edition. The museum also hosts a Taste of Core Sound each winter.

Set for Friday, Aug. 25, the Taste of Core Sound summer edition will feature a spread of scallop fritters, baked flounder, seafood casserole, chicken and pastry, fresh wahoo salad, shrimp salad, collards, sweet potatoes, squash casserole, fresh tomatoes and cucumbers, light rolls and fig cake that will be served at 7 p.m., before the documentary is shown at 8 p.m. Doors will open at 6 p.m., when wine and cheese will be available.

Tickets are $50 per person for museum members and $65 for non-members. There will also be a raffle that night, giving ticketholders a chance to win a golf cart, 100 pounds of fresh shrimp, a Yeti Hopper 30 cooler or gift certificates to restaurants and shops across Carteret County. Tickets are $20 each or six for $100.

Karen Willis Amspacher, museum director, explained that the documentary is more of a scrapbook of all the people who have been part of the 25-year journey.

“The goal of the documentary was to bring together the voices of those who have been leaders in this work,” she said.

“Our question to them was ‘Why?’ What brought you to this project and what has caused you to invest so much of yourself in this effort for Down East?,” she said. “There were lots more questions of course, but essentially, Why? This museum is a story of people … People who care about their community – past, present and future … and that is relayed in these conversations.”

Filmmakers Ryan Stancil and Baxter Miller were tasked with condensing the past 25 years of museum history into a 25-minute film. They spent months interviewing folks who have had an impact on the museum, filtering through archives and listening to oral histories collected over the decades.

“It is an impossible task but they have captured the spirit of this museum and the heritage it preserves, documents and shares,” Amspacher added.

“Yes, it is an incredible building with an impressive collection and excellent programming but at the end of the day, it is the people and their shared dedication to their heritage and history that has made the museum a success and such an important resource for the region and North Carolina. It’s their voices that tell the story,” Miller said.

There are a range of voices that have contributed to the success of the museum that were recorded for the documentary, including that of Carteret County storyteller Connie Mason; Core Sound Decoy Carvers Guild founding president Wayne Davis; volunteer membership secretary Margaret Goodwin; decoy carver Lionel Gilgo; North Carolina Arts Council director Wayne Martin; Kathryn Chadwick, the granddaughter of founding chair, the late Billy Smith; historian and author David Cecelski; and county historian Rodney Kemp.

Echoing throughout the film is the sentiment that it’s the people who make the museum.

“I’ve always said that Down East is not so much the place, it’s the people. And to me the people are the hidden treasure of Down East, North Carolina, and the Core Sound waterfowl Museum highlights the people and what they are and who they are, so I think it plays a vital mission to understanding who we are,” Mason said in the film.

Cecelski is quoted in the film as saying that the museum is one of the handful of most important museums in the country.

“And yes, the museum does very professional exhibits and they’re a first-class museum, but what’s really extraordinary about them is a way that they’re redefining what a museum is … So, it’s a museum, but half the time it’s more like church and it’s a space for homecoming and reunion and for connecting the generations. You know you couldn’t have a museum any closer to the people and the place.”

Martin of the state’s Arts Council said the office of folklife programs began collaborating with the waterfowl museum.

“I was just struck. I was struck by the fact that of all the groups I was working with, there were two groups that felt so strongly about place – the connection of place to culture. One was the eastern band of Cherokee. The other was Core Sound and Harkers Island and those communities Down East,” he said.

Martin continued by explaining that they realize that the dirt and the water and the trees and the flora and the fauna shape who they are as people and that they, in turn, have shaped those resources and utilized those resources and to some extent changed them. Adding that the fact that everything grew out of that philosophy of being connected to the land and place today’s world is so rare.

“To find communities that understand how important it is to honor that concept and, in a sense, stay true to it so that your identity remains connected to that very spot on the earth or in North Carolina.”

Kemp has a long history with the museum and spends many hours a year there leading programs, including one he created, Community Nights. One night a month, a community is highlighted  following a potluck dinner.

“You’re talking love now. You’re talking love of saltwater. You’re talking love of water everywhere. You’re talking about the breezes, the ones that freezes us in winter, and cools us in the summer. And the people,” Kemp said about the museum. “The people are unbelievable. And I don’t just mean Down East, all of Carteret County, those that are native Carteret County that were raised here are loving people that will give you what you need in a time, good friends, very good friends.”

The granddaughter of founding chairman the late Billy Smith, Chadwick has many generations tied to the museum. She said that she thinks that the museum is an anchor to what they want the future generations to be able to see.

“We were excited that there was going to be a museum. …  I think everybody was proud to see it break ground and I know my grandmother was very happy to see the gallery completed … that was probably the highlight of the museum for her, was to actually know that the building was complete and everything was how she you know if everyone had envisioned it. The dream had become true.”

Learn More

• Core Sound Waterfowl Museum and Heritage Center

Any list of essential Southern layer cakes should include carrot, coconut and red velvet. Some people would argue chocolate, too, but in North Carolina, I’d add the pig pickin’ cake instead.

Hardly a hog roast happens without this tower of deliciousness appearing. Cool Whip frosting full of pecans, canned crushed pineapple and instant vanilla pudding covers three vanilla orange cake layers prepared from a boxed mix.

Pig pickin’ cakes are always served chilled. They’re among those deceptively light desserts that get you into trouble. Despite the cake’s lack of wholesome ingredients, you can’t stop at one slice, and the fluffy texture lulls you into believing that’s OK.

North Carolina gets credit for the pig pickin’ cake because of the treat’s name and how it perfectly cools the palate after a tangy pulled pork dinner. The sweet mountain is so loved across the state that it has expanded beyond pig pickin’s. When the New York Times in 2014 asked Google to find out which dishes residents of each state searched most often for Thanksgiving, pig pickin’ cake was North Carolina’s No. 1.

How Carolinians came to love the pig pickin’ cake is probably rooted in the mid-20^th century age of convenience foods. The cake is a cinch to make and comes out tasty every time thanks to its processed ingredients.

As a child, I baked pig pickin’ cakes so often, without adult supervision, that I still know the formula by heart. I never worried about the cake turning out dry. The recipe includes a built-in remedy: Soak the layers with juice drained from the canned crushed pineapple that goes into the frosting. Uneven cake layers don’t matter either. They’re always perfect under all that whipped cream chunky with fruit and nuts.

Some recipe writers suggest two tall cake layers, a thin smear of frosting in between. They advise that pecans in the frosting are optional. Icing should be spread perfectly smoothly. Garnish with a few of the canned mandarin orange segments that go into the batter. Those people are probably of that ilk who don’t understand Southern accents and think the pig pickin’ cake is also called “pea pickin’ cake.”

Tar Heels know that the cake and frosting layers should be about equal height, each barely an inch tall. My mother liked to bake two layers, and then spilt each one to make a four-layer cake, making it moister and a sure-fire means of getting plenty of frosting in each forkful. Pecans help give the cake its distinctive North Carolina character. Gobbed on frosting, the best part of any layer cake, is decoration enough.

I like to make more frosting than the recipe calls for. So did my mother. So did the grandmother who shared the recipe with her. Just about everyone I know has a recipe that was handed down to them. That’s how I think the pig pickin’ cake became a classic, and why hardly anyone says “No thank you” when it makes the rounds.

Pig Pickin’ Cake

1 box yellow cake mix

4 eggs

¾ cup vegetable oil

1 small can mandarin oranges in light syrup

1 20-ounce can of crushed pineapple

1 16-ounce container Cool Whip or other whipped topping

1 small box instant vanilla pudding

1 cup chopped pecans

Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Grease the inside sides and bottom of three 8-inch cake pans and flour lightly.

Using a mixer set at low speed, blend cake mix, eggs, oil and oranges with their juices for 30 seconds. Increase mixer speed to medium and beat batter for 2 minutes. Pour batter in pans and bake about 25 minutes or until a toothpick inserted in the center of each cake comes out clean of batter. Cool cakes in pans on a wire rack for 15 minutes. Remove cakes from pans, set cakes on wire rack and cool them completely.

Drain and press juice from pineapple and set juice aside. Place drained pineapple, whipped topping, vanilla pudding and chopped pecans in a large bowl. Stir until a mixing spoon until well combined. Refrigerate frosting until ready to use.

Place one cake layer on a serving platter. Use a toothpick to poke holes all over the cake. Brush 1/3 of the pineapple juice over the cake. Spread a few heaping spoonfuls of frosting on the cake. Repeat with remaining cake layers. Frost sides of cake. Cover and refrigerate several hours or overnight before serving.

Makes 12 servings.

Among the sacred foods you never, ever mess with down South, tomato sandwiches rank at the top. Mention any adulteration to the simple formula of mayonnaise, salt, black pepper, supermarket white bread and red, homegrown tomatoes sliced not a second before they’re ripe and you’re bound to be looked at like you just shouted “YOU all.”

No one will touch your carefully crafted carrot cake at the neighborhood social. Somehow, you’ll be bypassed when the ribs and tenderloin come off the cooker at the next pig pickin’. Friends may even act like they didn’t see you when you wave “hi” in the Piggly Wiggly parking lot.

Everyone has an opinion about tomato sandwiches, right down to the brand of mayonnaise that should be used. If you say Duke’s, someone else will say Hellmann’s, although no one will say Miracle Whip. That’s the one generally agreed upon ultimate blasphemy. When Charlotte Observer food writer Kathleen Purvis wrote about tomato sandwiches in 2009, a firestorm followed, the most “online comments, e-mails and phone calls than almost any food story I’ve written,” Purvis said in her follow-up column.

Tomato sandwiches are so popular during summer in North Carolina that they could be the official state food of July and August. Tar Heels’ annual anticipation for tomato sandwich season moved the North Carolina Department of Agriculture to give away free tomato sandwiches at two of its Greenhouse Vegetable Days in April, two months before the correct field tomatoes would ripen.

Some communities build entire meals around the tomato sandwich. In her book “Dallas, North Carolina: A Brief History,” author Kitty Thornburg Heller notes that “Even the North Carolina state legislature and some churches serve ‘tomato sandwich suppers’ during summer.” The Garden of Concord in Graham hosts one. Charlotte real estate brokers throw a tomato sandwich party that has grown into a must-do event, if you can score an invitation. Merritt’s Store & Grill, operating since 1929 in Chapel Hill, still serves a classic tomato sandwich, just $3.15.

As fiercely loyal as Carolinians are to the tomato sandwich, you would think it was invented here, or at least down South, but no one knows for sure if it was a New Jersey, North Carolina or some other state’s tomato that first landed between mayonnaise-smeared white bread.

Some Carolina plantations were growing tomatoes in mid-1700s, but the plants were likely test runs of the tiny things explorers found Aztecs eating in what is now Mexico. A viable, tasty field tomato did not appear in America, Ohio to be exact, until the late 1800s.

Commercial jarred mayonnaise emerged in Philadelphia in 1907. Mass-produced white bread hit its stride not long after. Tomato sandwich recipes were in print by the early 20^th century, too, not that you need much instruction, although a 2014 CNN story did devote nearly 800 words to how to make a proper tomato sandwich.

I’ve made a lot of tomato sandwiches “the right way.” I’m craving one right now, but, as is the case many times when the tomato sandwich urge hits, I don’t have exactly what I need to prepare the stack. Rather than dismiss my yearning, I’ll use whatever I have on hand to get some sort of tomato sandwich flavor in my mouth. Oftentimes, I’m eating in the garden, my tomato sandwich balanced so that it’s juices run down my arm and onto the ground instead of my lap. It’s those times that a nearby basil plant broadcasts its aroma and I think, “Hmm. Maybe I’ll just keep that carrot cake for myself.”

1. Lay large, fresh basil leaves on a tomato sandwich. If you grow lettuce leaf basil even better.
2. Marinate sliced tomatoes in balsamic vinaigrette for 30 minutes before putting them in the sandwich.
3. Try flaky sea salt or seasoned salts instead of plain table salt. Consider smoked sea salt, French Fleur de Sel, rosemary salt or garlic salt.
4. Sprinkle on red pepper flakes, chili powder or chipotle powder instead of or in addition to freshly cracked black pepper.
5. Sprinkle 2 tablespoons of parmesan cheese over the tomatoes on the sandwich, lay the open-faced sandwich half on a baking sheet and broil until the cheese is bubbly. Remove from oven and lay the other piece of bread on top.
6. Make a mayonnaise-heavy pimento cheese and use it instead of mayonnaise.
7. Build a tomato sandwich on a biscuit the same circumference of your tomato slices. Cheddar biscuits are even better.
8. Use sturdy sourdough or whole-wheat bread and stack the tomatoes high, Dagwood style, with pesto or avocado mayonnaise in between each slice. Serve with a fork and a knife, just in case.
9. Sprinkle fresh, sweet corn kernels just cut from the cob onto the sandwich.
10. Make or purchase a huge focaccia bread. Toast each cut side on the grill and then spread on mayonnaise. Place the bottom half of the focaccia, crust side down, on a large, wooden cutting board. Lay a variety of different-colored, thickly sliced tomatoes on the focaccia to completely cover. Drizzle with homemade ranch or green goddess dressing, salt and freshly cracked pepper. Sprinkle with chopped herbs (basil, chives, parsley). Lay the top half of the grilled focaccia over the tomatoes. Press bread lightly. Let sandwich sit for 10-15 minutes. Use a long serrated knife to cut into squares for guests at the table.

HARKERS ISLAND — What better way to spend a February evening than enjoying a plateful of the rich hunting and fishing traditions of Down East Carteret County? Add the opportunity to learn about coastal customs and you have the recipe for the winter edition of the Taste of Core Sound.

The annual event is set for Friday at Core Sound Waterfowl Museum and Heritage Center on Harkers Island.

While Core Sound’s waterfowl heritage is always the theme, the focus this year will be on the history of the Core Sound Decoy Carvers Guild and how that organization and the Core Sound Decoy Festival held annually the first weekend of December set the course for the past 25 years. The program will also focus on the future of Core Sound decoy carving, which is today at the forefront of the Down East economy, and mixing old traditions with new collectors, carving competitions and events that together provide a year-round cottage industry for the region.

The evening program will feature the three surviving members of the “Original Seven” founding board members of the Carvers Guild: Wayne Davis, Carl Huff and James Salter. Each of them will share memories of those first years when a decoy festival and museum on Harkers Island were just a dream.

Before the program, you’ll get a taste of stewed oysters; scallop fritters; stewed duck and rutabaga; seafood casserole; stewed beef with potatoes and carrots; collards; sweet potatoes; light rolls; and fig cake.

Wine and cheese will be served at 6 p.m., along with a chance to view the silent auction items. Food is served at 7 p.m., and the program will begin at 8 p.m. Tickets are $100 per couple for members or $125 per couple for non-members, and the price includes museum membership for a year.

Corey Lawrence – son of David Lawrence, who co-founded the Core Sound Decoy Carvers Guild, Core Sound Decoy Festival and Core Sound Waterfowl Museum – will serve as moderator for the program. Lawrence said that he’s looking forward to this year’s “winter taste” more than any before.

“There’s a great group of decoys from well-known area carvers, and you’d have to look far and wide to find a better meal than we’ll have that night. What I think most people will enjoy the most, though, is the chance to hear stories from Wayne, James and Carl,” Lawrence said.

Lawrence said there’s no better way to kick off a 25^th anniversary than by celebrating the reason for the Waterfowl Museum’s existence.

“I believe this night is long overdue and will mean a whole lot to many that attend,” Lawrence added. “So many love the Carvers Guild for what it is now, but know very little about how wonderful it was to be a part of that small group in the very beginning. This night will help many love it for what it was. For me, it’ll be a fun walk down memory lane.”

The program will also include a preview of the museum’s 25^th anniversary exhibition, “Core Sound: Building a Place for the People.” The exhibit is still a work in process, with the goal to document 25 years of programs, events and community work that led to the creation of the Harkers Island destination and its mission of spreading the Core Sound story across the state and beyond. Past outreach programs include the Smithsonian Folklife Festival in Washington, D.C.

Pam Morris, exhibition curator, described it as, “ … just a glimpse of all the people and places that have been part of this museum’s history, but it will capture the spirit of community that has guided all that we have accomplished and all that we envision for the future.”

“The 25-year mark for the Core Sound Waterfowl Museum and Heritage Center is more than a timeline of events, dollars and buildings, numbers of people and miles traveled,” explained Karen Amspacher, museum director. “This anniversary is the recognition of a revival of heritage, traditions and community that have resulted in the wonderful facility we have at the end of the road on Harkers Island.”

The silent auction of decoys guild members created and donated in honor of the anniversary. Each are signed, dated and branded as part of the anniversary celebration.

Collectors recognize the talent and traditions Core Sound decoy carvings represent.  Corey Lawrence; Brother Gaskill; Ken Humphries; Monty Willis; Lionel Gilgo; Jerry Talton; Jack Gardner; Joe Burney; Robbie Roberson; John Hodge; and Casey Arthur are among the carvers whose work will be represented.

Preserving Art, Heritage 

Decoy carving, as with other everyday activities that become obsolete with a changing lifestyle, was long taken for granted as an art form.

The Core Sound Carvers Guild was established to encourage support and interest in migratory waterfowl preservation, and to share ideas and perpetuate carving, painting and taxidermy of waterfowl and related items.

What began as a group of seven carvers on Harkers Island is now an organization of 300 carvers, collectors,breeders, photographers and wildlife enthusiasts from across the country.

Learn More

• Tickets are available by calling 252-728-1500 or emailing museum@coresound.com.
• Core Sound Waterfowl Museum and Heritage Center

On New Year’s Day 1802, President Thomas Jefferson, just 10 months in office, received a grand gift of support from the town of Cheshire, Mass. It was a cheese that weighed 1,235 pounds.

Stories of its 13-foot circumference and how it was rolled across the White House lawn to Jefferson’s waiting arms has caused some interpreters of history to bill that “Cheshire Mammoth Cheese” America’s first cheese ball.

The declaration is one Southerners know to be absolutely wrong.

It’s not just that the big cheese was likely a wheel of something like cheddar painted red rather than the ball of spreadable cheese coated in chopped pecans that Southerners claim to be all their own. The cheese ball’s fabled Southern pedigree is not by virtue of true history or special recipes but by the kindness and generosity with which the globes are shared.

Cheese balls became a Biro family favorite when the kindly lady who lived next door gave us one in the early 1970s. Hers was a store-bought, port wine cheddar number rolled in chopped pecans, a perennial favorite across North Carolina’s coastal plain. My European parents, not long on the North Carolina coast by way of New Jersey, had never seen anything like the neon-orange round streaked raspberry red.

From that first bite on a Ritz cracker forward, a Christmas cheese ball was part of our holiday tradition. As a teenager, I became the family cheese ball maker. Even now, when gourmets and top chefs ridicule the cheese ball as a Velveeta generation relic, I brave bringing one to even the most foodie-centric parties. Invariably, at least one person shares a happy memory about their own holiday cheese ball experiences, and a few people request the recipe. No matter their disco-era reputation, cheese balls taste good.

Cheeses soft enough to spread date back at least 5,000 years, but the cheese balls we know down South started, I think, with British potted cheeses and the German’s love of soft white cheeses. In the late 1800s, tavern owners in America’s Midwest and upper South mashed together one or more cheeses into paste with cream, seasonings, beer or wine, vegetables and nuts. They laid out these so-called “crock cheeses” on the bar for patrons to enjoy.

Mass-produced cream cheese arrived around 1873. By 1918, Florence Kreisler Greenbaum’s “Jewish Cook Book” (Bloch Publishing, New York) included a cheese ball recipe calling for one cake of Neufchatel cheese, an equal portion of butter, a tablespoon of cream, a dash of salt and six dashes of Tabasco sauce. New York-based Greenbaum suggested forming one large ball or several small ones and rolling them in chopped pecans.

Cheese ball recipes are easy compared to fussier holiday favorites like cookies. Still, they are extravagant enough that they qualified as once-a-year indulgences in days past down South. Before household refrigeration arrived, soft cheeses would not hold for long. Nuts were either expensive to buy or time-consuming to pick from their shells. To share such special ingredients spiked with a fine port amounted to an exceptional symbol of love, friendship and good will.

My cheese ball recipes vary year to year, but the one I fall back on most often honors the cheese ball that hooked my family all those years ago. Port wine cheese spreads available at the supermarket don’t compare to the dried cherries I soak in good-quality port wine and then fold into a little cream cheese and lots of extra-sharp cheddar. Should anyone imply that my recipe is neither authentic nor Southern, I’ll pass him or her a generous portion of that cheese ball on a Ritz cracker and suggest they hush their mouth.

Port Cherry Cheese Ball

1 cup whole dried cherries or cranberries

¼ cup good quality port wine

12 ounces cream cheese, softened

5 cups shredded extra-sharp orange cheddar

1 teaspoon chili powder

1 teaspoon Cajun seasoning blend

¼ teaspoon salt

2 tablespoons good quality port wine

4 cups coarsely chopped toasted pecans

Place cherries or cranberries in a small bowl. Pour port over cherries or cranberries. Soak, stirring occasionally for several hours or overnight until the cherries have absorbed the port. The cherries should be sticky. Coarsely chop cherries and set aside.

Place cream cheese and cheddar cheese in a large, heavy bowl or the bowl of a stand-up mixer. Use a sturdy wooden spoon or the mixer’s paddle attachment, with mixer set on medium speed, to blend cheeses until well combined. When the mixture is smooth and pale orange, add chili powder and Cajun seasoning and blend well again. Gently fold in cherries and their juices plus 2 tablespoons of port wine using a sturdy wooden spoon. Do not use the mixer for this step. Cover the bowl and place cheese mixture in the refrigerator for about an hour.

Spread pecans on a large board. Using a large serving spoon, scoop one-third of the cheese mixture onto the pecans. Using your hands, roll the cheese in the nuts, forming a ball, until cheese is coated. Shape the cheese into a ball and place in a covered container or wrap in plastic. Place on a flat surface in the refrigerator for several hours or overnight. Repeat with remaining cheese mixture.

Makes three 5-inch cheese balls, each providing 8 to 10 servings.

Source: Liz Biro

I can see Mr. A.C. Todd sitting by his kitchen table for dinner as clearly as if I was standing before him right now. He and his wife, Geneva, lived in the house next door to the one where I grew up in Onslow County. My mother had sent me over to borrow a cup of something. While Mrs. Todd rummaged through the cabinets to find it, Mr. Todd finished the last couple bites of his meal and then considered a plate of cornbread.

I envied Mr. Todd getting to have his wife’s cornbread anytime he wanted it. Her breads were legendary in our neighborhood. If Mrs. Todd popped over to share a bowl of stewed collards she had just taken from the pot, you crossed your fingers that she brought cornbread, too.

What happened next made me to question if Mr. Todd deserved full access to that cornbread.

“Do you have any buttermilk?” he asked his wife.

Mrs. Todd nodded toward the refrigerator behind her husband’s chair. He retrieved the carton, crumbled cornbread into a drinking glass, poured buttermilk nearly to the rim and then ate the mixture with a spoon.

Coastal North Carolina likes some weird food combinations. Cornbread and buttermilk is just one of them. The sources of these mash-ups vary. Cornbread crumbled into buttermilk probably originates with the African-American slaves and poor farmers of America’s early days. Corn grew well in the South. Eating it at nearly every meal led cooks to imagine different ways to serve it. Rather than discard the liquid left from churning fresh or soured milk into butter, they soaked stale cornbread in it, thereby creating a cheap, nutritious meal.

Peanuts and Pepsi

There was a time when you almost couldn’t go into a country store and not see someone sipping a bottle of Pepsi with handful of salted, roasted peanuts floating in the soda. How this happened is anyone’s guess. Maybe it was just easier to eat and drink out of the bottle rather than try to juggle a pack of peanuts and a soda, especially when you were driving the pickup truck down a bumpy road. The only sure thing is that sweet and salty flavors are mighty pleasing together.

Spots and grits

When the small, saltwater fish named spot runs in fall, the words “fried spot” light up country cooking restaurants’ signs along the coast. The most old-school of places serve cornmeal-dusted fried spots on grits. The fish are headed and gutted but never filleted. African-American slaves ate fish with grits. Fishermen did, too. Grits are cheap and they keep you full for a long while. Spots are plentiful and easy to catch. Their mild flavor is delicious, but because spots usually weigh no more than a pound, they’re not a commercially viable catch, so most of the harvest ended up being eaten at home.

Vinegar on Fish, Oysters, Greens and Pulled Pork

Ocracoke Island native Maude Balance’s father was a commercial fisherman. In 2004, she told the News & Observer about his boiled fish breakfasts. He and other watermen sprinkled hot vinegar on the fish. Down East residents like a dash of vinegar on their oysters. Every table in a true North Carolina country cooking restaurant will host a bottle of Texas Pete green tabasco peppers packed in vinegar. Everyone knows it’s for splashing onto stewed greens. The use of vinegar as a condiment came from the Old World to the colonies. Think malted vinegar on British fish and chips. Hot vinegar is also a traditional soul food condiment. Vinegar-and-pepper sauces used on pulled pork may have originated in the West Indies, where islanders mopped a lemon juice and chile pepper sauce on pork.

Mullet and Sweet Potatoes

Mullet and sweet potatoes are both plentiful in fall. Sweet potatoes make a nice change from the white potatoes so common in coastal North Carolina’s old-fashioned seafood recipes. Rich, oily mullet have enough flavor to stand up to the sweet potatoes. This is an uncommon stew even among fishing families, but worth recreating. Render some pork fat in a pot. Layer mullet and onions on top, add enough water to cover halfway, bring to a boil, lay some sliced sweet potatoes on top of the fish and simmer until the fish and potatoes are cooked through. Alternately, bake the fish and vegetables together in the oven.

Ritz Crackers and Lemon Pie

Lemon pie made with a Ritz cracker crust is a Down East classic. A little salty, a little sweet and plenty tart, it hits all the South’s favorite flavors. Thank modern convenience foods for this meringue-topped creation. Sweetened condensed milk landed in the mid-1800s and required no refrigeration. Packaged Ritz crackers arrived in 1934. Lining a pie tin with the crackers was easier than mixing pastry. This pie was made famous by Capt. Bill’s Waterfront Restaurant in Morehead City.

Barbecue and Slaw

Germans and the Dutch who settled in the Piedmont brought coleslaw to North Carolina. They were already eating the cabbage salad with pork. Their descendants put it on barbecue restaurant menus, according to “Holy Smoke: The Big Book of North Carolina Barbecue” (University of North Carolina Press, 2008). Before mayonnaise was mass marketed in 1912, cooks who wanted creamy slaw prepared boiled dressing, a tangy-sweet flour-thickened custard containing egg yolks, milk and vinegar.

Chili, Slaw, Onions and Mustard

How do you know you’re from North Carolina? If these four words instantly mean something to you. You order hamburgers with these four embellishments. You put them on your hot dogs, too. When someone says Carolina burger or Carolina dog, you know what they’re talking about. The dogs are said to have showed up around the 1950s in eastern North Carolina. Why the slaw? See previous barbecue entry.

The beauty of coastal N.C. seafood cookery is the simplicity threaded through every preparation, fancy or casual. Stuffed shrimp ranks as a special-occasion dish, and, certainly, the summer’s waning days are worth homage.

This time of year, brown shrimp skimming the Atlantic peak in size, up to 9 inches long. Blue crabs are their biggest and fattest, too.

Large enough to butterfly, these late-season brown shrimp make the ideal package for fresh blue crab meat. Brown shrimp have the richest flavor of all North Carolina shrimp species. Their buttery goodness contrasting sweet crab means hardly any seasoning is required, an instruction always delivered by coastal natives. They don’t like anything sullying seafood’s flavor, even if it’s a five-star worthy recipe, for which stuff shrimp qualifies.

I like crab-stuffed shrimp the minute they emerge from the oven wearing bits of crispy brown trim. Their lusty aroma is more savory than all the smoke at a pulled pork cook-off. Carefully placed on a hot grill, stuffed shrimps turn out equally regal.

Kudos to the unknown person who first decided to put what basically amounts to a crab cake inside a jumbo shrimp. My guess is the cook was somewhere in Louisiana.

Crabs were too much trouble for the ancients. Romans preferred shrimp roasted, fried or boiled, maybe with a honey glaze, although cooks did prepare shrimp cakes.

British colonists brought portion-stretching crab cakes to the American colonies. The cakes were especially popular along Chesapeake Bay, where crabs were so plentiful fishers considered the crustaceans a nuisance clogging seines.

America’s shrimping industry took off in Louisiana in the mid-18th century. A hundred and fifty years later, blue crabbing became a thing in the Gulf of Mexico. Ultimately, Louisiana would host the world’s largest blue crab fishery, and New Orleans became known as one of best places to eat on the planet.

The list of ingredients is short for any worthy stuffed shrimp recipe. The devil is in the time it takes to butterfly the shrimp and pick stray shells from crab meat.

“Backwards butterfly” is the term I use to describe how I prep the shrimp. I’m finicky about how stuffed shrimp look. I like the shrimp to stand tall, with their tails curled over the crab cake mound. That requires carefully pulling out each shrimp’s vein without slicing open the back along the curve. Grabbing the vein is a slippery operation, but the good news is you’re dealing with jumbo shrimp, just eight or 10 to the pound. Four or five stuffed shrimps per person is an ample serving.

Once the vein is out, I butterfly along the inside curve, starting with a shallow cut at the tail end and sliding a paring knife in a little deeper as I move toward the head.  I fan out each shrimp, and then plop on a generous spoonful of crab filling.

I blend the crab meat with lemon zest, fresh parsley, a dash of Worcestershire sauce and/or horseradish and a smidgen of oh-so-finely minced red pepper for color. I prefer Duke’s mayonnaise and an egg white to bind the mixture rather than cracker meal or fine dry bread crumbs, but I may add a filler to help hold the mixture together if necessary. I never add salt or black pepper.

If you have a crab cake recipe you like, use it.

All this can happen several hours before cooking the shrimp. Once arranged on a baking sheet or in a covered container, the stuffed shrimps may be refrigerated or frozen until it’s time to put them into the oven or on the grill.

Yes, you could wrap stuffed shrimp in bacon or spoon a creamy sauce like béarnaise over the cooked stuffed shrimps, but you’d mask summer’s essence, a crime during these fleeting days.

Stuffed Shrimp

2 pounds jumbo shrimp (8- to 10-count)

1 pound unpasteurized blue crab meat, lump, claw or a combination of both

2 tablespoon minced parsley

1 tablespoon minced red bell pepper

2 teaspoons lemon zest

1 teaspoon Worcestershire sauce or horseradish

1 teaspoon Dijon mustard

Dash of hot sauce

2 tablespoons mayonnaise

1 egg white

Butter or vegetable oil

Lemon wedges.

Peel the shrimp, leaving the tails intact. Devein, butterfly and refrigerate the shrimps.

Pick stray shells from crab meat. Lightly toss in parsley, red bell pepper and lemon zest. In a small bowl, blend together Worcestershire sauce or horseradish, Dijon mustard, hot sauce, mayonnaise and egg white. Stir lightly into crab meat.

Grease a large baking sheet with butter or vegetable oil. Shape a tablespoonful of the crab mixture into a small ball and place on a single shrimp. Curl the shrimp’s tail over the crab filling. Stand the shrimp, tail up, on the baking sheet. Continue with remaining shrimp. At this point, the stuffed shrimps may be covered and refrigerated for several hours.

Preheat oven to 375 degrees. Bake the stuffed shrimp uncovered in the preheated oven for about 15 minutes, until the shrimp are pink and the crab meat is heated through. Alternately, cook the stuffed shrimp on a fine-mesh or foil-lined grate on a hot, covered grill.

Serve stuffed shrimp with lemon wedges.

Serves 6 to 8 people.

Source: Liz Biro

To Learn More

• N.C. shrimp species
• Crab cake recipe

SOUTHPORT — Recipe for a perfect crab cake: Lots of blue crab and no fillers.

That’s the formula I hear recited most often when conversation turns to crab cakes. Seems everyone I talk to up and down the North Carolina coast agrees that no amount of blue crab meat molded into a disk and sautéed until golden deserves even the slightest hint of breading, or anything else for that matter.

Yet, crab cake after crab cake wadded with soggy bread crumbs or cracker meal, flecked with red bell pepper and asserting too much Old Bay, Worcestershire and lemon pepper keeps coming from restaurant kitchens. The ultimate insult? A side of tropical fruit salsa.

Down in Brunswick County, Pelican Seafood husband-and-wife owners Tony and Jeanne-d’arc Wehbe start their crab cakes by hand-picking every tiny bit of shell from fresh, unpasteurized North Carolina blue crab meat. They shape that meat and only that meat into an inch-thick, burger-size cake. Panko bread crumbs coat each patty that Tony Wehbe gently lowers into a deep-fryer.

The crab cakes’ light, crisp crust is like the delicate entryway into the sweetest depths of juicy, tender euphoria. As Jeanne-d’arc Wehbe likes to say, “Every bite is a delight.”

Lots of people who visit or live along North Carolina’s southeast coast ask me “Where is your favorite seafood restaurant?” I always point them to Pelican Seafood Market & Restaurant on Oak Island’s mainland. The place is tiny and no-frills enough to qualify as a seafood dive, but excellent seafood and friendly service rank it several notches up.

Décor is basic. A seafood market and small grocery that stock the restaurant anchor one side of the azure, white-trimmed building that used to be a house. The restaurant flanking the other side resembles a tidy home cleared of furniture to make room for Pelican’s handful of tables, chairs and a simple order counter.

An open kitchen between the two spaces is where the Wehbes lightly bread and fry not just crab cakes but fish, shrimp and shellfish, sometimes with a distinctive Pelican signature. I once had bone-in flounder cut horizontally into strips, cornmeal-coated and fried. I picked up each length as I would fried chicken.

The Pelican grill, sauté and steamer stations get as much of a work-out as the fryer. Tony Wehbe’s secret, minced-garlic sauce recipe goes on fire-roasted oysters served on the half-shell. He tosses wahoo into noodle stir-fry. Skewered grilled scallops come alongside grilled fresh lemon and avocado tomato salad.

My favorite dishes here hail from or are inspired by the Wehbes’ homeland, Beirut, Lebanon. I crave the CCC Shrimp. Curry, cumin and coriander – “and other spices,” Tony Wehbe adds with a wink – season sautéed, jumbo, heads-on shrimp. Fried wahoo or grilled black sea bass land on or with a bed of Jeanne-d’arc Wehbe’s tabbouleh. She also prepares hummus, hand-rolled stuffed grape leaves and labor-intensive Middle Eastern sweets like walnut-filled cookies named maamoul.

The couple have asked me many times to come for their version of the Lebanese specialty, tahini-coated fish. I’m not sure why I haven’t taken them up on the offer.

Call ahead if you’re looking for a particular dish or Middle Eastern items. The menu changes with what’s in season and what the Wehbes feel like cooking – and eating. Trust their appetite.

Tony Wehbe has been cooking since he was a kid. As a boy, he fished the Mediterranean regularly with his father. That’s when Tony Wehbe learned to grill. During Lebanon’s mid-1970s civil war, he operated a vegetable cart. Wehbe stocked enough produce each day to earn a profit and take some home for his family to eat.

“In the war, it was tough times,” he recalled. “You had to do whatever it took to make a living.”

Tony Wehbe’s parents sent him away from war-torn Lebanon when was 18.  He ran restaurants in Los Angles, waited tables in famous New Orleans restaurants and opened his own bar. After obtaining a nursing degree, he continued to cook at home those dishes he had watched chefs prepare.

Jeanne-d’arc Wehbe grew up on her mother’s traditional Lebanese cooking. She was a dentist when she met Tony at a wedding that he had returned to Lebanon to attend. The pair felt an instant connection. Three months later, in 1996, they were married.

Required years of dental school in America to get her license to practice in the United States convinced Jeanne-d’arc to give up her dental practice and start a family. The couple has a daughter and three sons. Tony Wehbe’s job brought the clan to Fayetteville. The mild climate convinced them not only to stay but also operate a seafood market and grocery in their spare time.

Vacations on Oak Island led to a job for Tony Wehbe at the former Brunswick Community Hospital, near Supply. The work was less exciting than his previous surgical nursing gigs. Seeking a challenge, the Wehbes in 2006 launched Pelican Seafood market in that old home that they themselves revamped. They added the restaurant in 2009.

A decade later, the Wehbes remain as giddy as newlywed business owners. In 2011, they opened Pelican Seafood II, in a red barn-shaped building on Oak Island. They post photos daily on Pelican’s Facebook pages. One shows Jeanne-d’arc grinning as she prepares to dress a 50-pound grouper. Smiling Tony shows off a whole cobia. Of course, live and steamed local crabs make it into shots as do those incomparable crab cakes.

“This is a small place, nothing fancy,” Tony Wehbe said, “but I can’t tell you how many times I have heard people say, ‘This is the best seafood I’ve ever have had in my life,’ and that to me, that’s very rewarding.”

Pelican Seafood

• On the mainland: 4332 Long Beach Road, Southport, 910-454-8477
• On the beach: 6235 Oak Island Drive, Oak Island, 910-933-4564                                                  

I probably should own a Kindle, but I don’t. I’m too enamored with cookbooks in my hands. More than 100 volumes line above-cabinet shelves encircling my kitchen. Each time I write a Coastal Review food story, I get to dive into the pages of my absolute favorites. They’re the books about North Carolina and Southern cuisine. They bring me home and, oftentimes, to tears of joy and nostalgia. Sometimes, I keep one on the pillow next to me when I turn out the lights.

Each of these books helps tell the story of Eastern North Carolina cooking. They are essential reading for anyone who loves our coast.

Coastal Carolina Cooking

This list is in no particular order, except for this book. Each time I read it, which is often, I can clearly visualize North Carolina home cooks stew-frying a mess of spots and sweet potatoes. I can hear their brogues and dialects, see the sunlight brightening their happy kitchen curtains.

In the 1980s, authors Nancy Davis and Kathy Hart traveled from Currituck County south to Brunswick County to document traditional cooks and their recipes. Coon stew, baked shad roe and molasses popcorn are the kinds of old-fashioned recipes they gathered. The slim tome contains no photographs. Pencil sketches depict each cook. A map delineates their locations. You won’t find contemporary restaurant dishes, just down-home family food. “They can hardly believe you are asking about their recipes,” Davis and Hart write, “ones that were passed along from a relative or neighbor and are as much a part of coastal tradition as boat building and net making… They told us about their families, their traditions, their way of life – all in the context of food.”

University of North Carolina Press, 1986. $19.99

Mariner’s Menu: 30 Years of Fresh Seafood Ideas

Back in the early 1970s, North Carolina Sea Grant tapped Carteret County cooks to develop seafood recipes that would help fishers and seafood processors market the catch. In Morehead City kitchens, author Joyce Taylor directed the mostly women. The crew had a lifetime of knowledge about traditional North Carolina seafood cookery, but they also developed and tested new ideas. Sea Grant published their efforts in this seafood bible in 2003. It’s not just full of recipes. How to select, handle, clean and store seafood as well as various cooking methods such as poaching, broiling, clarifying butter and flaking fish are included. Recipes range from classic crab cakes and shrimp bisque to contemporary orange-marinated snapper. The work of these cooks continues and is documented regularly at the Mariner’s Menu blog, marinersmenu.org

University of North Carolina Press, 2003. $29.95

Island Born and Bred

Harkers Island has changed rapidly over the past decade or so. Development has placed new residents between longtime family homes. Island traditions are preserved in this part cookbook, part history of Harkers Island. Each chapter starts with a different aspect of island life: early settlements, churches, schools, legends, traditions, change. Find recipes old and new, some illustrated with simple sketches: a shoreline baptism, men building wooden boats, Nettie Lewis Brooks in a bonnet sitting on the “pizer,” the name islanders gave their porches. The book contains a dictionary of island expressions. Recipes speak to family meals built on the local bounty and eventually modern conveniences. Chicken and pastry, baked bluefish with onions and potatoes and raisin pie share space with cheese balls, three-minute barbecue sauce and no-bake banana pudding.

Harkers Island United Methodist Women, 1987. $1995

Holy Smoke

North Carolina’s coastal plain is not all about seafood. “One friend from down east has gone so far as to claim that barbecue is the great sacrament of our people,’” authors John Shelton Reed, Dale Volberg and William McKinney write. They trace barbecuing all the way back to the Old Testament and then through to Native Americans grilling fish in the 1500s on the Carolina coast and finally to the pulled pork eastern and western North Carolinians argue over today. Vintage menus, photographs and interesting quotes – “All differences are made as nothing by the benign influence of the barbecue” – pepper the text along with recipes for real-deal sauces, side dishes and desserts.

University of North Carolina Press, 2008. $30

Outer Banks Cookbook: Recipes & Traditions From North Carolina’s Barrier Islands

While everyone else rushes to the Outer Banks for sun, fun and fishing, author Elizabeth Wiegand is drawn to its food. No matter if she shares a recipe from home or one from a restaurant, Wiegand promotes local ingredients, namely seafood fresh from North Carolina waters. The opening chapter tracks Outer Banks culinary history, starting with Native Americans who dried oysters near Buxton before explorers arrived and continuing to modern-day tourists craving grilled mahi tacos. Find recipes for the Humble Hatteras clam chowder that has sustained so many generations of fishers right up to new American grilled wahoo with charred tomato, chipotle and guajillo sauce. The key lime pie visitors crave at popular Basnight’s Lone Cedar Café in Nags Head is in there, too.

Globe Pequot, 2008. $20.

Southern Food

John Egerton chronicles the South’s food ways in what may be the best book on the subject. When I’m researching recipes, say Muscatine jam or hushpuppies, I find them paired with history, factoids and commentaries that put the dishes into perspective. The opening chapter, Pass and Repast: A Gastronomical View of the South, roves through time and various places, helping readers discover how their local food traditions took hold. I most relish the short selections in the margins. Black-and-white photographs and quotations from books, articles, poets, journalists, authors and ordinary people humanize the text and echo the emotions you feel while reading.

University of North Carolina Press, 1987. $32.95

The Southern Heritage Cakes Cookbook

American revolutionists rejected the royals, and Southerners made the layer cake their crown. That’s how it seems to me. Coconut cake, carrot cake, red velvet cake, pig pickin’ cake, no Eastern North Carolina groaning board is complete without layer cakes weighing down one end of the table. The mile-high frosting delivery systems sweeten many of this book’s pages. My copy dates to the original 1983 printing. Its age enhances old photos and the vintage advertisements for eggs, cocoa and other baking essentials slipped between recipes. The narrative and anecdotes tell the history of cakes. In times long past, layer cakes were one of the few creative outlets for many Southern women. Hence the reason we enjoy so many delightful varieties.

Oxmoor House, 1983. Prices vary at Amazon.com

I’m looking at the remnants of a long-ago garden plot on Portsmouth Island. Under the weight of summer heat and humidity, the sand is dry, white dust. Surely it is too thin to grow anything nourishing.

“What would they have raised here,” I ask my guide. Collards for sure, he says. Figs, corn, beans, Irish potatoes.

My imagination stops at “Irish potatoes.” It flickers, struggling to make the connection to the rich potato salad I see at every summer fish fry, pig pickin’ and church supper I attend on the N.C. coast. Those potatoes that wrestled harsh barrier island conditions 100 years ago? Cooks stewed them with game, seafood, vegetables or cornmeal dumplings. The potatoes were key to keeping stomachs full.

Today, we like to boil those Irish potatoes and then fold them with chopped hard-boiled eggs into heaps of silky store-bought mayonnaise. We eat so much that we chastise ourselves for consuming all the carbs, calories and cholesterol that come with potato salad.

But it tastes so good, especially when the potatoes and eggs are still a little warm just after you’ve folded in the mayonnaise and maybe a heaping spoonful of sweet pickle relish. The side dish is the perfect mild and creamy counterpoint to a salty, crispy fried fish or a spicy, vinegary pulled pork.

The potato salad I’m talking about is a fairly new recipe in the New World. Spanish explorers brought potatoes from South America to Europe in the 16th century. By the end of the 1500s, French and German cooks were serving cold potatoes dressed with oil, vinegar and salt.

Potatoes were introduced to American farmers in the early 1800s. North Carolina potato farming began later in the century, according to the N.C. Department of Agriculture and Consumer Services. Sandy, coastal soils suited the same potatoes grown in Ireland, white potatoes with brownish skins. Coastal Carolina natives still refer to them as “Irish potatoes.” To this day, most of North Carolina’s potatoes are grown in coastal counties, mainly Beaufort, Camden, Carteret, Currituck, Hyde, Pamlico, Pasquotank, Tyrrell, and Washington.

Picnic-style potato salad we recognize took hold in the second half of the 1800s. Cooks could have made their own mayonnaise with oil and egg yolks. Down South, perhaps they substituted boiled dressing, a tangy-sweet flour-thickened custard containing egg yolks, milk and vinegar that was often used to prepare coleslaw.

Whichever sauce cooks chose didn’t matter much by the start of the 20th century. In 1907, Amelia Schlorer of Philadelphia began selling her own mayonnaise in her family’s grocery store. Around the same time, Richard Hellmann featured his wife’s homemade mayonnaise in salads at his New York City deli. It was so popular that by 1912, Mrs. Hellmann’s mayonnaise was mass marketed.

Commercial mayonnaise got around, as did easy potato salad recipes that came with it. You don’t see mayonnaise-based potato salad recipes mentioned in connection with Portsmouth Island. The place had no electric refrigeration to store jars of mayonnaise once they were opened. We relish what the islanders missed and with every forkful of potato salad thank them for taming those poor, sandy soils.

Potato Salad

6 medium Irish potatoes, peeled and diced

Water

2 teaspoons salt

1 small onion, diced

2 hard-boiled eggs, chopped

1 stalk celery, chopped, or 1 teaspoon celery seed

1 bell pepper, finely diced (optional)

¾ cup mayonnaise

2 tablespoons prepared mustard

¼ cup sweet pickle relish

¼ teaspoon sugar

In a large pot, cover potatoes with water. Add salt. Boil potatoes until tender and drain. In a large mixing bowl, combine hot potatoes, onion, eggs, celery and bell pepper. Add mayonnaise, mustard and relish. Combine. Season with pepper and sugar. Serves 6 to 8.

Source: Evelyn Styron of Hatteras for “Coastal Carolina Cooking” (University of North Carolina Press, 1986). Styron worked for more than 30 years as a restaurant cook, according to the book.

Old-fashioned Southern Boiled Dressing

1½ tablespoon all-purpose flour

2 tablespoons granulated sugar

1 teaspoon dry mustard (see cook’s note)

2 egg yolks

Dash of hot sauce

2 tablespoons of butter, melted

¾ cup milk (see cook’s note)

¼ cup lemon juice or apple cider vinegar (see cook’s note)

Pinch of Cajun seasoning or cayenne

Pinch of salt

Cook’s note: Mary Foreman, the author of this recipe, says, “I used Colman’s spicy dry mustard. Can use pretty much any vinegar to your liking — red wine, champagne, apple cider or regular white vinegar, and adjust to taste, using more or less. Use 1¼ or more cups of milk to thin for use as a salad dressing. Whisk in until it reaches desired consistency. Depending on the use, fresh herbs or other seasonings can also be added, such as celery seed for coleslaw, or parsley for potatoes.”

Procedure: In a small saucepan, whisk together the flour, sugar and dry mustard until there are no lumps. Add the egg yolks, hot sauce, butter, milk, and lemon juice or vinegar; whisk in well. Place over a medium to medium high heat, and whisking constantly, until mixture is smooth and thick like a custard. Do not allow mixture to actually boil. Remove from heat, whisk in a pinch of Cajun seasoning or cayenne and salt, and set aside to cool, then store in refrigerator. Makes about 1¼ cups. Excellent for coleslaw, vegetable and potato salads.

Source: Mary Foreman at deepsouthdish.com. Former is the author of Deep South Dish: Homestyle Southern Recipes (Quail Ridge Press, 2015). Follow her on Twitter @DeepSouthDish or SouthernRecipes on Facebook.

Strawberry shortcake means different things to different people. A tender, split biscuit layered with sugar-macerated berries and fluffy whipped cream is recognized as the traditional version. Growing up on the N.C. coast, I never once encountered such a shortcake at restaurants or homespun gatherings.

My father’s shortcake was three, sponge-cake layers high. Fanciful swirls of fresh whipped cream frosted it in the regal style of rococo coffee shops in his native Hungary. Divine as it was, his creation in my childhood mind could never be true strawberry shortcake.

There’s probably no such thing as a traditional strawberry shortcake. This is the version many in the South know since childhood: berries in a biscuit. Photo: Fine Cooking

Here’s a version using cake instead of a biscuit. Photo: Taste of Home.com

A glazed donut cut in half and filled with berries and cream is a decadent substitute.Photo: SteakandPotatoKindofGurl.com

The real thing required a trip to the IGA or Piggly Wiggly for packages of little, yellow, bowl-shaped vanilla sponge cakes. All the moms, aunts and grandmas I knew spooned syrupy, sugar-soaked, fresh berries into the cakes’ wells and then plopped on a big dollop of that glorious, white chemical amalgamation known as Cool Whip.

Supermarkets still sell those cakes and tubs of Cool Whip, but my strawberry shortcake preferences lately lean pound cake. I like two buttery, orange-scented, slices – at least an inch thick, please — practically hidden under fresh, sliced berries so sweet they need no sugar. Stratus clouds of cream whipped until just frothy should nearly cover the whole thing.

I don’t believe a “proper” strawberry shortcake exists. The dessert seems more a matter of personal taste. Each version is authenticated by the nostalgia to which it is linked.

King Henry VIII’s chef, Cardinal Thomas Wolsey, was the first to serve strawberries and cream. The combination appeared at a 1509 banquet. Food historians identify the original strawberry shortcake as being a sweet cake or biscuit leavened with baking soda or baking powder. The recipe’s English predecessor, dating to the late 1500s, involved an unleavened base, meaning I may rearrange my personal tastes with pie crust rounds cut the size of sugar cookies if I’d like.

The classic biscuit-style recipe was widespread by the mid-1800s, spurring strawberry shortcake parties at berry harvest time. That’s when Tar Heel cooks parade out their various strawberry shortcakes. When it comes to strawberry production, North Carolina ranks third in the United States. Nearly all of the 20-plus million pounds of fruit is sold fresh, directly to consumers at pick-your-own farms and local markets and grocery stores where, more often than not, those little yellow cakes, pound cakes or angle food cakes are stocked nearby.

That North Carolina lacks a single, identifiable, authentic strawberry shortcake makes it reasonable to assume strawberry farming is new to North Carolina. Conversely, farmers here have been cultivating strawberries on the coastal plain since at least the mid-19th century. Production did not spread across the state until much later. In the early 1900s, the Chadbourn area of Columbus County in the southern coastal plain, was a major strawberry-growing area. During a single day in 1907, the region sent forth 180 boxcars full of berries.

The Lady Thompson strawberry bred in North Carolina in the late 1800s caused a stir when it arrived on the scene. It was believed to be the largest strawberry in cultivation, with reports of one growing to 7 inches in circumference, reported the April 1895 issue of Meehan’s Monthly: A Magazine of Horticulture, Botany and Kindred Subjects. The berry fetched 30 to 40 cents a quart, more than double the price of other varieties.

“The fortunate man who got it first grew 10,000 quarts an acre, and cleared $13,000 on it in one season,” Meehan’s Monthly quoted O.W. Black, a N.C. strawberry plant tester, as saying.

“Of 100 or more varieties on my place, it is the most independent of drought and the quickest and fastest grower of all.”

Lady Thompson didn’t hold court for long. As evidenced by Black’s diverse test fields, strawberry plant development progressed rapidly from new variety to new variety, each descendent outdoing its parents in one way or another. Researchers today continue to create new breeds, providing so many strawberries for so many different strawberry shortcakes.

No matter the modern domesticated strawberry, its lineage traces to North America’s native Fragaria virginiana. That wild berry’s range touches nearly every U.S. state. A cross between Fragaria virginiana and Chile’s native Fragaria chiloensis birthed the first garden strawberry in the 1750s in Brittany, France. Previously, Europe’s own woodland strawberries were transferred to gardens.

Tiny but tasty, Fragaria virginiana was the strawberry Native Americans were gathering when colonists arrived in the New World. The June moon was known among Algonquin tribes, which inhabited eastern North Carolina, as the Strawberry Moon because the month was the time for gathering wild strawberries, according to the Old Farmer’s Almanac.

Many different tribes used strawberries for food and medicine. They ate strawberries fresh in season. Sometimes, they blended crushed berries with cornmeal for baking into strawberry bread. Or would that more accurately be called “shortcake?”

Corn Muffin “Strawberry Shortcake”

3 quarts hulled and quartered strawberries

½ cup sugar

2 teaspoons lemon juice

1 3/4 cups unbleached all-purpose flour

1 cup yellow cornmeal

2 teaspoons baking powder

1/2 teaspoon baking soda

1/2 teaspoon salt

1 cup milk

1/4 cup honey

1 large egg

1/2 cup (8 tablespoons) unsalted butter, melted and cooled

1 cup heavy whipping cream

¼ cup confectioner’s sugar

1 teaspoon vanilla extract

Prepare strawberries: In a medium bowl, blend together 2 quarts of the strawberries and sugar. Set aside. Reserve the remaining quart of berries in a separate bowl.

Prepare muffins: Preheat the oven to 400 degrees. Lightly grease the 12 wells of a standard muffin pan.

In a medium-sized bowl, whisk together the flour, cornmeal, baking powder, baking soda, and salt.

In another bowl or large measuring cup, whisk together the milk, honey and egg.

Pour the liquid all at once into the flour mixture, stirring quickly and gently until just combined. Once everything is barely combined, stir in the melted butter; there’s no need to beat it, just stirring is fine.

Scoop the batter into the prepared pan, filling the muffin cups about 2/3 full.

Bake the muffins for 15 to 18 minutes, until one of the center muffins tests done: the top should spring back lightly, and a toothpick inserted into the center should come out clean, or with just a few moist crumbs clinging to it.

Remove the muffins from the oven, and as soon as you can safely handle them, transfer them to a rack. Serve warm, or at room temperature. Store tightly wrapped at room temperature for several days; freeze for longer storage.

Prepare whipped cream: Blend together whipped cream, sugar and vanilla. Whip by hand with a wire whisk or use an electric beater set at medium speed to whip cream until soft peaks form.

To serve: Spilt one muffin. Place bottom half on a dessert plate. Spoon about ¼ cup of berries and ¼ cup whipped cream over muffin. Balance top half of muffin over berries and cream. Spoon on more berries and their juices and more whipped cream. Garnish with the fresh berries that were not blended with sugar.

Continue with remaining muffins.

Makes 8-10 servings.

Source: Muffin recipe based on a recipe from King Arthur Flour

A cast-iron frying pan as big around as a hug sits in a dark storage room where I keep seldom-used kitchen things. Dust covers its broad basin, too big for any stove. Rust reveals neglect. I have no plans to give it away.

Like many cast-iron pans that lay forgotten in cabinet corners or that remain Southern cooks’ favorite workhorses, this one has a story.

In the mighty tome titled The Oxford Companion to Food (Oxford University Press, 1999), author Alan Davidson writes that in medieval kitchen scenes, “many a cauldron bubbles in exotic settings: devils tend their pots over the fire of hell in a Last Judgement (sic), cooks stir their dinner on the back of a whale at the bottom of a page. A stew pot perched on the head of a rakish monster in a manuscript border, a stumpy little man carved on a bench end, clutching a ladle as long as himself …”

No doubt the cauldrons are cast iron. Animal skin soup pots that 14th century Scottish and Irish cooks fashioned on three posts above fire could never have taken the devil’s heat.

Cast-iron cooking vessels date at least to China’s Han Dynasty (25 B.C.E. to 220 C.E.). Exactly when cast-iron cookware first appeared is “impossible to say,” Theodore A. Wertime argues in The Coming of the Ages of Steel (University of Chicago Press, 1962). The ancient Chinese narrative history Zuo zhuan contains a 512 B.C.E. account of the casting of iron cauldrons. Bronze casting of pottery apparently led to casting in iron, Wertime concludes.

While wild medieval depictions of cauldrons “suggest that cooks were exceedingly cross and their kitchens in perpetual uproar,” by Davidson’s account, writer Maguelonne Toussaint-Samat in her History of Food (Bordas, 1987) also finds that “The pot-bellied cauldron full of delicious things simmering away has a prominent place in folk memory.” Despite “sinister concoctions” (“Medea boiled old King Pelian himself”) Toussaint-Samat surmises that “the image of the steaming pot on the table has remained the symbol of tranquil family pleasures in the Paradise Lost of childhood.”

That’s where my cast-iron frying pan’s story resides.

Summer weekends when I was growing up were reserved for fishing Onslow County’s New River in and around Sneads Ferry. My family didn’t grab poles and picnic away the day. Dad was outside usually by sunrise hitching up the boat trailer. It carried a small, green, fiberglass skiff we jammed with coolers, nets, clamming bags, snacks, drinks, a bottle of cooking oil, a bag of cornmeal and a small cast-iron frying pan.

Once on the water, Dad maneuvered the boat to a small island. We unloaded quickly, allowing my father time enough to set off and drop a gill net in his favorite fishing area during early morning hours. While he was gone, we gathered wood and spread a blanket under a low-hanging, live oak.

As nets filled with fish, we dug clams. Dad might head to the beach for some surf casting or drag the shrimp trawl. Close to lunchtime, he and one of us kids would pull up the gill net. Back on the island, Mom steadied a makeshift grill over a small fire. The minute Dad returned, we were dressing spots and croakers that Mom would dust in cornmeal and then fry in that cast-iron skillet set over the flames.

You never forget the flavor of fish so fresh. It ruins you for any other fins, no matter how reputable or expensive the restaurant. The flake, the juiciness, the essence of a life spent swimming in the mild salt of brackish waters infuses each bite. My brother and I called it “fresh meat.” The cast-iron skillet in which the fish fried wasn’t even an afterthought for us. A giant cast-iron frying pan back home got all the glory — although sometimes the cast-iron kettle Dad hung over a fire for simmering the stews of his native Hungary snatched the big dog’s celebrity.

Because cast iron retains heat and withstands open-flame cooking, it has outfitted kitchens across many cultures. Settlers and pioneers brought their cast-iron pots and pans to the New World. Inexpensive and durable cast-iron cookware dominated American kitchens until the early 20th century, when lighter, cheaper aluminum was introduced. Non-stick skillets and chef-endorsed stainless steel pots and pans further eroded cast iron’s place in U.S. homes.

Down South, however, many cooks clung to their cast-iron skillets, precious pans passed down through generations. Along the N.C. coast, they are the optimum vessels for frying and “stew-frying,” the latter referring to browning vegetables or flour-dusted seafood or game birds in pork fat and then simmering them until tender. The heavy pans keep cooking oil evenly hot without burning it. Oil absorbed into the iron creates a non-stick surface that rivals Teflon. Black cast iron shows no soot marks from a fire.

Cast iron gives thin cornmeal griddle cakes the perfect brown. A cast-iron skillet full of biscuits or cornbread hot from the oven at one time warmed family tables nearly every day.

By late afternoon on New River, my family’s coolers were loaded with fish and shrimp, and the boat was weighed down with at least 1,000 clams. We sold some to wholesalers, but we carried a good bit home to stock our chest freezer to share with neighbors.

Everyone who lived nearby knew to look for the little green skiff on its trailer rolling into the Biro driveway just before sundown. As soon as we unloaded our catch onto the concrete patio out back, the neighbor from two doors away was by to purchase bluefish no one else wanted, not even the seafood markets. Strangers who heard they might find fresh clams on our street showed up in hopes that Mom and Dad might have a hundred or so to spare for a good price. Neighborhood wives came to help gut fish. Curious kids unlatched coolers to marvel at the two eyes flounders wore on just one side of their heads.

Once the boat was washed, the coolers stowed and a whole bunch of fish dressed, Dad sparked the day’s second wood fire, this one in the huge brick grill he had built in the back yard. Then he pulled out his grand cast-iron frying pan, the one that whispers today from my storage room. It was a point of pride almost greater than the two-foot long flounder Dad once caught. I have no idea where he acquired the pan. We marveled at its circumference. Your perception of size changes from the time you’re a child to adulthood, but the frying pan appears as huge today as it did when I was a 8 years old.

Wearing a grin I recall as pure sparkle, Dad fried dozens of cornmeal-dusted fish, or sometimes his specialty beer-battered filets. Eight or 10 of them at one time bubbled in hot oil. Meantime, my mother and her friends pulled together potato salad, steamed corn, sliced fresh tomatoes, cucumber salad, fried okra, or whatever they picked at local farms. Miss Todd, the matriarch among them, contributed cornmeal griddle cakes cooked in her favorite cast-iron skillet.

We gorged ourselves, all 15 or so of us, nearly every summer weekend. At the kids’ table, my brother, the seven Melson kids who lived next door and I pulled what seemed to us like giant chunks of meat from the bones of small spots and croakers. “Fresh meat,” one of us would cry each time we boasted a hunk of fish at the end of our white plastic forks.

When the eating was done and us kids were chasing fireflies while grown-ups pontificated in lawn chairs encircling lemon yellow mosquito candles, the cast-iron frying pan slowly cooled to the touch. Before the night ended, Dad poured the leftover oil into an empty coffee can for use during the week. We didn’t mind the fishy flavor on our fried potatoes. Finally, holding a soft cloth or paper towel and with the gentlest hand, Dad wiped the pan clean and put it away until the next fish fry.

People ask me all the time how to season a cast-iron pan. “You rub it with oil and put it in the oven right?” “Should I use olive oil?” “Do I need to season it over and over again?” “Is a pre-seasoned pan better?”

And they want to know how to care for cast iron. Many fear they’ll ruin a skillet or that it will absorb deadly bacteria if they don’t wash it in soapy water. “Couldn’t I just rinse it with bleach?”

Their questions are endless. Books thick and thin have been written on the subject – with appropriate cast-iron recipes. Line after line of advice is available online. My answer to queries is much briefer and always the same: Buy whichever kind of cast-iron pan you like. Steel wool away the rust in any old pan you inherit. Wipe clean with plain water. Immediately fry a mess of fish. Invite a bunch of people to come eat. Repeat the process over and over again, weekly if possible.

Never give your cast-iron pan away.

Learn More

• How to season a cast-iron pan
• How to remove rust from a cast-iron skillet
• Seven myths about cast-iron pots

We get so caught up in the big picture of eastern North Carolina food that we sometimes forget the important, little things.

What would our famous pulled pork be without that splash of red pepper vinegar, our biscuits without molasses, our steamed oysters without a few drops of Texas Pete?

I was reminded of the little things we take for granted recently when I interviewed celebrity chef Carla Hall. The co-host of the afternoon ABC show “The Chew” hails from Nashville, Tenn., so it wasn’t long before we were deep into our Southern drawls talking home cooking.

When I asked Hall if she knew about cornmeal dumplings, she went speechless and stared at me with her mouth agape. “If you do cornmeal dumplings on a pot of collards, that’s very old-school North Carolina where I come from,” I told Hall.

In an instant, she grabbed both my hands as if I had just saved her soul. “I’m totally going to do that. When you see it on ‘The Chew’ I’ll give you credit,” Hall said, serious as she could be.

I, of course, don’t deserve the credit. Historians believe cornmeal dumplings date to the boiled cornbread of Native Americans. Corn was their single most important food crop. When colonists arrived in the New World, Native Americans taught them how to grow and use corn.

Cornmeal dumplings are gut fillers, surely a way to extend humble rations in lean times of days past and present. Along the N.C. coast, cooks have long dropped the dumplings into game and seafood soups, stews and chowders. Nowadays, they taste good even when you’re not pinching pennies.

Like Hall, I was surprised the first time I encountered a pot of stewed collards dotted with cornmeal dumplings. I was at a meeting of state-level marine fisheries managers. They were gathered for a potluck dinner at a tiny eastern Carteret County volunteer fire department.

I’d lived on the N.C. coast, in Onslow County, most of my life, but had never seen cornmeal dumplings. In North Carolina, they show up more often right along the coast. One of the women in attendance, a local who worked in the state marine fisheries office, looked at me like I was nuts when I asked “Are those potatoes?” She couldn’t imagine anyone never before having seen cornmeal dumplings on a pot of collards. They are that common in central and northern N.C. fishing villages.

“If you want to stir up a controversy in coastal North Carolina, just ask a group of cooks how to make the ‘best’ cornmeal dumplings,” wrote authors Nancy Davis and Kathy Hart in the book “Coastal Carolina Cooking” (The University of North Carolina Press, 1986).

Recipes call for all cornmeal; one half cornmeal, one half all-purpose flour; or two parts cornmeal and one part flour, about one cup in all. To that, cooks add a touch of salt and about a cup of liquid, usually water or cooking liquid from whatever soup or stew is on the stove. Sometimes, a little fat is added, maybe butter or shortening, but leaveners such as baking powder or baking soda are never included.

The disk-shaped dumplings, often about 2 inches in diameter and ½ to 2 inches thick, may be shaped individually by hand. Alternately, some cooks form the dough into a log and slice off dumplings. They most often drop the dumplings along the edge of the pot or rim a pot of collards with cornmeal dumplings, where they steam without stirring in the last minutes of cooking.

When are the cornmeal dumplings done? You can almost hear a family matriarch reply, “Well now that depends?” If they’re small and thin and dropped in conch stew, maybe five minutes. If they’re thicker and topping collards or simmering in squirrel stew, maybe 20 minutes. All depends on what you’re cooking and how you like your dumplings. The best way to find out, of course, is by testing and tasting.

Cornmeal Dumplings

2 cups of cornmeal

1 teaspoons salt

½ to 1 cup of water

In a mixing bowl, combine cornmeal and salt. Add just enough water to hold the mixture together. Shape into small patties or cake. Drop around the edge of chowder 15 minutes before serving.

Source: Eloise Pigott of Gloucester, N.C., for “Coastal Carolina Cooking” (The University of North Carolina Press, 1986).

NEWPORT – Never in her wildest imagination did Kim Nead think the little piece of land she and her Marine husband, Russell, bought would turn into such a bountiful blessing for them and countless others.

Back in 2006, she and Russell took ownership of six acres outside this Carteret County town.  For starters, a small shelter was erected, and they were given a goat. Then came gifts of chickens. Fast forward 10 years … to where The Barnyard is now home to more goats, chickens, ducks, pigs, sheep, cows, rabbits, a donkey and turkeys.  And it’s a place where all sorts of memories are being made.

In 2010, Kim enrolled in an entrepreneur class at Carteret Community College. She pitched her small farm idea and vision to the class, got lots of encouragement to forge ahead and soon afterwards did just that, becoming a member of the ever-growing N.C. Agritourism Networking Association and the rest became the genesis of the farm’s history.

As I set out on my quest to simply find a local source for a farm-raised turkey to serve during the holidays, I came across this little farm, tucked down a short path, with a story that became much bigger than just a turkey for the table.

It was late afternoon, second feeding time of the day, on a dreary rainy day when Nead graciously welcomed me. Sitting at one of the colorful picnic tables, we chatted underneath the event pavilion while Russ busied about us, feeding up all their critters. Birds gobbled and clucked around us, while Abraham the donkey brayed behind the shelter. Mallard and Pekin ducks waddled about, cows mooed and pigs squealed. The goats were most amusing, several climbing high on their surroundings, “crying” like babies as if saying, “Hey, over here, look at us!”

But my heart melted when I met Esau. This little red Angus calf nudged me when I first walked up, purely by accident. Because, you see, Esau is both blind and deaf. He was adopted by the Neads and is a darling of the farm. While Nead and I talked, Esau had the entirety of one of her hands in his mouth, slobbering profusely, as if suckling from his mama.

Having been raised on and around farms, I’ve always had a special love for cows. I love to hear them, watch, smell and pet them. I’ve even ridden a cow or two in my youth. So it didn’t take much for Esau to quickly capture my attention.

I asked if he was a “pet,” but Nead said their animals are raised for food as was to become plight of little, but soon-to-be-big, Esau.

“We haven’t had to buy meat or eggs in 10 years,” she said. “Our farm feeds us and continues to grow into a food source for others around our community too.”

As our conversation continued, I found so much more at The Barnyard than just turkeys. What I found is a couple with such a kind spirit of giving. Now retired, Russell served in the Marines for 22 years as an air wing mechanic. His time was mostly spent at nearby Marine Corps Air Station Cherry Point, but he also completed a few tours in Japan. Meanwhile, Kim held down the home front, raising their three children, all grown and now flown the coop, so to speak.

Russ grew up on a dairy farm in Florida, but Kim’s experience in farming was nonexistent, with exception to the few pet horses and rabbits they had over the years. Amber, their daughter and now a Havelock resident, is now the farm’s social media manager but she enjoyed showing animals in her youth. These days, The Barnyard has a horse, Traveler, who entertains there and travels about to events and birthday parties.

The farm also offers horseback riding lessons. As the afternoon turned into a dark and dreary wet evening, a warm glow came about Kim as she started sharing tales of some of their riding students and something near and dear to her heart. She and Russ donate time to the Carteret County Autism Society and hold events where portions of the ticket sales benefit the society.

“I am just so amazed when I see a child come here, and somehow, the animals change their lives,” she said. “I have seen children start speaking while on the back of a horse. One child went from not speaking, to showing goats. They just seem to blossom physically as they ride the horses and play with the chicks.”

She went on to tell me about their volunteer work with the Newport Road Runner 4-H Club and had, just the week before my visit, taken the kids to Raleigh to set up their exhibit at the N.C. State Fair.  The club also participates in Cookies for The Troops, works with Veteran’s Affairs and participates in the Veterans Day parade, the Newport Christmas parade and many agricultural events. They have “Ag Days” at their farm, which are open to the public as fun, educational experiences for families.

The Barnyard is also mobile. In addition to holding birthday parties and year-round seasonal events on the farm, the Neads love taking some of the animals out and about to teach new generations to appreciate where their food comes from and how it gets to the table. Recently, they again were at the Old Beaufort Farmers’ Market with their petting zoo. More family fun can be had during summertime at Friday movie nights and day camps. More than 600 friends of the farm recently enjoyed their annual Fall Festival, and their Winter Wonderland Tours are now underway, with Russ as Santa.

Thanksgiving and Christmas, though, are turkey time. Turkey poults, or chicks, come to The Barnyard at just two or three days old from here in North Carolina.

“Our chicks have been here with us since late spring and are ready,” explained Kim. “We have turkeys in a variety of sizes.”

Their birds are fed a nutritious grain diet while assisting with pest management by grazing on all sorts of insects and bugs there on the farm.

The Neads raise a couple of different breeds of turkeys.  They taste the same, but grow to different sizes. Their Broad Breasted Bronze birds dress out to about 15-25 pounds, while the Domestic Black and Golds dress out somewhat smaller, around eight pounds.

“We take orders in advance until our annual supply is sold out,” Kim said. “The weekend before Thanksgiving, we process the birds. We allow volunteers to come help if they would like to be a part of that.”

As with most turkeys, brining the bird before cooking is recommended. This is a process that tenderizes while making for a really juicy turkey. Many store-bought birds have been injected but you won’t find that with a bird from The Barnyard.

“For those who want something besides turkey, we can have a duck dressed for them with 48-hour notice, and our freezers are stocked with lamb (limited availability), goat meat (mostly in spring), beef and pork coming soon,” Kim added.

Not all the farm animals are raised for eating. “Our chickens provide us and customers with farm fresh eggs, and they too, help with pest management by eating bugs but are not processed for meat,” Jim said. “Our rabbits are considered domestic and although we do not raise them for consumption, we do sell their babies.”

Other products the farm produces are wool from their lambs, manure, some compost and one group comes to harvest gumballs for crafting.

A few turkeys were still available at this posting. How fun it will be to let your guests know their juicy brined turkey came from just down the road this year, while you can feel great knowing you are supporting a local, N.C. coastal, family farm.

Visit with Santa at The Barnyard today and Saturday. Enjoy the barnyard animals and have some warm hot chocolate too.  Find all the details on their website and Facebook page.

Round out your holiday meal with fresh produce from the family-owned and operated Garner Farm also in Newport. Cabbage, collards, cabbage collards, sweet potatoes and more are available depending on the weather.

And also in Newport, pick up fresh pecans for your pies and cakes at the Willis Farm, owned and operated by Alan and Rodney Willis.

 Learn More

• The Barnyard website and Facebook page
• Garner Farms
• Willis Farm
• Olde Beaufort Farmers’ Market
• Newport Road Runners 4-H Club
• N.C. Agritourism Networking Association

Mix the fragrance of pine and cedar with that of sweet ’taters, light rolls and cakes baking in the oven of a big ‘ole’ woodstove, topped with a big enamel coffee pot perking on top…you’ve got the “fragrance of Christmas.”

Madge Guthrie, “‘Christmas Was’…John’s Creek, 1930s, from “Remembering Christmas Past” (Seasonal Keepsakes from The Mailboat, 1991)

Christmas is five weeks away, but I can already smell the light rolls in the oven. Some folks along the N.C. coast call them “lightning rolls” or “light bread.” Others say “hot rolls” or “yeast rolls.” I like the name lightning rolls best. My mind plays the words in the melodious brogue of the High Tiders. For generations, they have lived along the state’s central and northern coasts, where this bread is ubiquitous at holiday time. In the chatter of long-ago Christmas morning kitchens, I hear their “i’s” pronounced “oi” as in “Hoi Toider.”

Loitin’ Rolls

I’m neither a High Tider nor a native North Carolinian. I was born in New Jersey. Although I spent most of my life on North Carolina’s southeast coast, my parents were European. Lightening rolls have never been part of my holiday celebration.

My education about these buttery, golden brown yeast rolls baked with a dash of sugar comes from years of reporting about the state’s commercial fishing industry. The many High Tiders with whom I crossed paths readily shared their food traditions. I smell the rolls each year in the weeks before Christmas thanks to vivid memories written in a series of “Seasonal Keepsakes” booklets published by The Mailboat. It’s a journal documenting N.C. coastal life in the words of people who live or have roots along the shore.

Lightening rolls always fascinated me. In the South, a region better known for biscuits and cornbread, how did this yeast bread rise to such prominence, especially in North Carolina’s remote barrier island communities?

(Christmas) Dinner was served as soon as everyone got there and the rolls came out of the oven. Mammy waited last to put them in so they would be nice and hot.

Harriett Whitehurst Kirk, “Christmas at Mammy’s” in Bettie from “Core Sound Memories: The People and Places that Make Christmas Special” (Seasonal Keepsakes from The Mailboat, 1996)

The Romans were the first to make breads comparable to those we know today. They also enriched breads with milk, eggs, spices and sweeteners, producing expensive loaves for the wealthy.

Bakeries abounded in the Middle Ages. Most people couldn’t afford store-bought bread, so they baked at home. Dark or whole-wheat breads were common. Folks preferred white-flour breads for their lightness, flavor and appearance, but the expense of milling white flour made those loaves too costly for the average person.

“White bread was considered as much a luxury as fine handmade cake is today,” William G. Panschar wrote in Baking in America (Northwestern University Press, 1956).

Yeast came from the fermenting barm of wine and beer, not little packages at the supermarket.

Europeans brought their bread baking traditions to the New World. Within a few decades of Jamestown’s founding, commercial bakeries sprang up around city centers. Most settlers, however, lived in rural areas and baked at home. They relied on oven chambers built into fireplaces or Dutch ovens set directly on the coals. Some used “roasting kitchens,” raised boxes with openings placed close to the fire.

“The Colonial housewife was no less a baker then the craftsmen of the bake shops. Indeed, it was generally accepted that the homemade loaf was superior to anything that the baker could turn out,” Panschar wrote.

Well into the 1800s, homemakers apologized to guests to whom they served commercially baked bread.

White loaves were baked throughout the colonies. Southerners preferred biscuits, cornbread and breads hot from the oven.

Roots in Cornwall

Everyone ate in Mammy’s kitchen, taking turns by the menfolks, to women, and the children. As we children would wait for the men to eat, Mammy would sneak some of her huge, crusted light rolls out from the kitchen to us hidden under her apron. They would have a big hunk of butter melting inside where she had cracked the rolls open – a feast for starving young ’uns.

Harriett Whitehurst Kirk, “Christmas at Mammy’s” in Bettie from “Core Sound Memories: The People and Places that Make Christmas Special” (Seasonal Keepsakes from The Mailboat, 1996)

Lightning rolls seem most closely related to Cornish splits from Cornwall, a county on England’s southwestern tip. Similar buns, known as Devonshire splits, come from Devon, immediately north of Cornwall. Early settlers along North Carolina’s Outer Banks were English, Scottish, Irish and Scot-Irish, hence the High Tider population’s lingering English dialect traced to the Elizabethan period.

Splits recipes call for butter, milk and sugar. Cornish splits served with golden syrup and clotted cream are said to come with “thunder and lightning.”

As agriculture flourished in America, wheat was grown and flour mills popped up along the coasts. Soft wheats grew best in Southern climates, as they did in Ireland and England. Those wheats produce low-protein flour that insures the tender crumb mandatory for perfect biscuits. Low-protein flour also makes softer yeast breads. By the early 1900s, Wilmington had at least three companies selling their own brands of specialty flour.

Lighting rolls likely took strong hold along the Carolina coast in the 1900s. Previously, bakers, whether professional or home cooks, had to prepare their yeast starters from scratch. Flours required more sifting to filter out foreign matter. Uncontrollable temperature and humidity could ruin the rise.

In the 1860s, The Fleischmann Co. introduced standardized cakes of compressed yeast to the American market. Dry yeast followed during World War II. It did not require refrigeration, had a long shelf-life and produced more consistent results. Improved milling technology reduced the price of white flour, and shelf-stable shortening replaced butter.

Even with all the advances, making lightning rolls required effort in yesteryear’s remote Outer Banks communities, where everything was delivered by boat and kitchens lacked modern conveniences into the 1900s. Biscuits and cornbread could be prepared in a relative flash. Lightning rolls mandated time. Old recipes call for double and triple rises, making the preparation an all-day affair. Extra ingredients – lard or shortening and sugar – were needed to make the rolls lusher than everyday bread.

Holiday time is when cooks go all out. Perhaps that’s why lightning rolls are so often mentioned in association with Christmas along the banks. The aroma of lightning rolls ready to be pulled from the oven and their steamy softness warming cold hands by the fire on Christmas Day remains a precious memory, even if, as in my case, it is imagined.

Christmas Day at Mammy’s was many delightful things, all of which to make a child happy. Looking back now, I realize it was ‘a time’ that was a gift. We were given the gift of belonging – knowing that we were a part of everything; of feeling cherished – knowing that others had done a lot of extra work to make us happy, and we knew that we were loved.

Harriett Whitehurst Kirk, “Christmas at Mammy’s” in Bettie from “Core Sound Memories: The People and Places that Make Christmas Special” (Seasonal Keepsakes from The Mailboat, 1996)

Lightning Rolls

• 1 yeast cake
• 3 tablespoons warm water
• 5 cups all-purpose flour
• 2 tablespoons sugar
• 1 teaspoon salt
• 1/3 to ½ cup lard or shortening
• Warm water

In a small mixing bowl, dissolve yeast cake in 3 tablespoons of warm water. In a large bowl, combine dry ingredients and add yeast mixture. Cut in lard or shortening. Using hand, work more warm water into the mixture until the dough forms a ball. Let dough rise in a warm place for 2 hours. Knead again until dough no longer sticks to hands. Pinch of small pieces of dough and use your hands to roll them into the shape of a biscuit. Place on an ungreased baking sheet in a warm spot. Cover with a light, soft cloth and let rise until double in size. Bake rolls in a 425- to 450-dgree oven until brown.

“There is an idea prevalent that anybody can cook sweet potatoes, this is a very great mistake, and the many, many dishes of illy cooked potatoes that are placed before me as I travel over the South, prompt me to believe that these recipes will be of value.”

George Washington Carver made this observation during the 45 years he studied sweet potatoes. Some four dozen reports resulted. Many contained those recipes of value, including Thanksgiving’s ubiquitous candied “yams.”

If you’ve ever sat down to a holiday meal in eastern North Carolina, you’ve seen your share of marshmallow-topped candied yams. Cloying, mushy, canned sweet potatoes often bob in rusty, sugar syrup.

Did Carver’s cooking lessons even matter?

Those unappetizing casseroles are especially a shame in North Carolina, America’s No. 1 producer of sweet potatoes — 1.1 billion pounds on 54,000 acres in 2013, a Carolina Demography report at UNC-Chapel Hill’s Carolina Population Center found. Most of those sweet potatoes grow in the coastal plain, which provides sandy soils and warm temperatures the tropical plants need to thrive.

Certainly, candied yams should be tender and sweet, a delicious contrast to savory roast turkey and sharp, stewed collard greens on many N.C. Thanksgiving tables east of I-95. Over time, however, candied yams seem to have lost some dignity. It’s hard to imagine dark, soupy, marshmallow-coated candied yams are in any way related to the version British Revolutionary War Gen. Charles Cornwallis adored so much that old church and junior league cookbooks list recipes for Cornwallis Yams.

First, a clarification. Candied yams are not really yams. In America, the term “yam” is used to denote a softer variety of sweet potato. A true yam is a drier, starchier root native to Africa and Asia. The sweet potato we see on holiday buffets originated in South America.

Tubers from the wild plant that spawned today’s sweet potatoes were found in a Peruvian cave inhabited before 8,000 before the common era, according to the Oxford Companion to Food (Oxford University Press, 1999). Cultivation began during the last centuries B.C.E., spreading the sweet potato to Mexico, the Caribbean and by the 13^th and 14^th centuries across the ocean to Hawaii, Easter Island and New Zealand.

Columbus in 1492 found natives eating sweet potatoes when he landed in what is now Haiti. Spanish explorer Hernando de Soto in 1540 saw Native Americans growing sweet potatoes in present-day Louisiana and Georgia.

Europeans took the sweetest varieties home. Sweet potatoes grew well in temperate southern Europe, especially Spain. From there, explorers carried sweet potatoes to the Philippines, where the Portuguese spread the root vegetable to India and the East Indies. By the 16^th century, sweet potatoes were in China. Two hundred years later, they were in Japan. Slave traders brought sweet potatoes to Africa, where they started replacing the yam as a major carbohydrate-rich food source.

Virginia colonists were cultivating sweet potatoes by the mid-1600s. The crop was especially important during the Revolutionary and Civil wars. It grew quickly underground, hidden from marauders.

Discerning historical sweet potato recipes from old white potato recipes is difficult. Europeans called them both “potatoes” until the 1740s, a Library of Congress article titled “A Sweet Potato History” said. Candied sweet potato dishes may have originated in 16^th century Europe, but candied yams as we know them down South are mostly American, as evidenced by Carver’s and many other candied sweet potato recipes published in the late 1800s and early 1900s, “A Sweet Potato History” determined.

How did we get from fresh, baked sweet potato slices Carver recommended layering with butter and sugar in a casserole to the gooey, marshmallow-crowned candied yams served today? The transition seems to have started with late 18^th and early 19^th century sweet potato pudding recipes. Mashed sweet potatoes blended with milk and spices were baked under an egg white topping.

By the 1850s, France was selling marshmallow candy, www.foodtimeline.org found. Marshmallow mass production arriving in the late 1800s turned the treats into penny candy for kids in early 20^th century America. Marketing and improved manufacturing moved marshmallows into home kitchens.

“In 1917, the marketers of Angelus Marshmallows hired Janet McKenzie Hill, founder of the Boston Cooking School Magazine, to develop recipes for a booklet designed to encourage home cooks to embrace the candy as an everyday ingredient,” Saveur magazine reported in 2011. The booklet contained “the first documented appearance of mashed sweet potatoes baked with a marshmallow topping.”

A year later, a candied yam recipe, billed as especially adapted to the South, appeared in The Barrett Co.’s “Sweet Potatoes and Yams,”  a guide to growing, selling and using sweet potatoes. The booklet advised that a sweet potato “that has a candied appearance after baking, as though it has been dipped in cane syrup, is ideal for the Southern market.”

However you choose to candy and cap your sweet potatoes this holiday season, select fresh, N.C. sweet potatoes and treat them with care. Look for firm, smooth, unbruised sweet potatoes. Small and medium-size sweet potatoes tend to be less starchy. Store them in a cool, dark place, but never the refrigerator (cold temperatures may cause sweet potatoes to become bitter), for no more than two weeks.

“And just so you know, sweet potatoes and marshmallows are not married,” the N.C. Sweet Potato Commission has noted at its website. Chefs agree. They might top candied sweet potatoes with nuts, herbs, granola, cornbread, parmesan cheese, bread crumbs or, heaven forbid, nothing at all. Some recipes suggest adding roasted chestnuts, crumbled bacon, chipotle chilies, lemon juice, orange zest, garlic, mushrooms, cranberries or dried apricots to the sweet potatoes.

Tabor City chef and former restaurateur Jim Smith, a regular winner in his hometown’s N.C. Yam Festival Cookoff, likes a streusel rather than marshmallow topping. He might add nuts, cayenne or tart apples to his sweet potatoes to temper their saccharinity. Smith is just as likely to stir in Marshmallow Fluff. Tinkering with “candied yams” is fine, he said, as long as the casserole stays somewhat sugary.

“It’s something sweet you can eat,” Smith said, “but you can eat it during a meal, so it’s a treat.”

Contemporary Candied Yams

Three pounds of sweet potatoes.

Glaze:
⅓ cup firmly packed light brown sugar
⅓ cup honey
2 tablespoons bourbon
½ teaspoon ground cinnamon
1 teaspoon freshly ground ginger
½ of a single chipotle chili in adobo sauce, mashed to a paste

Streusel topping:
½ cup light brown sugar
½ cup all-purpose flour
4 tablespoons cold unsalted butter, cut into small pieces
1/8 teaspoon ground cinnamon
1/8 teaspoon salt
¾ cup toasted pecan pieces

To finish:
½ cup fresh or dried cranberries
¼ to ½ cup miniature marshmallows

Prepare the sweet potatoes: Peel then cut sweet potatoes into ½-inch thick slices. Put potatoes in a large pot of lightly salted water. Bring to a boil. Boil 5 minutes. Drain potatoes and cool.

Prepare the glaze: Combine brown sugar, honey, whiskey, cinnamon, ginger and chipotle chili in a small, heavy saucepan over moderate heat. Stir mixture until sugar is dissolved.

Prepare the streusel topping: In a large bowl, whisk together brown sugar and flour. Cut in butter until mixture is crumbly. Stir in cinnamon, salt and pecans.

Prepare the casserole: Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Butter a 1½- or 2-quart shallow baking dish. Lay rows of slightly overlapping potato slices in baking dish, starting at one end of the dish. Spoon glaze evenly over potatoes. Sprinkle potatoes with streusel topping and fresh cranberries. Bake dish in oven for 50 minutes, or until potatoes are tender and topping has browned.

If using marshmallows, remove casserole from oven after baking dish for 40 minutes.

Sprinkle with marshmallows, return casserole to oven and bake another 10 minutes, until marshmallows are lightly browned. Allow finished casserole to sit 5 minutes before serving.

Makes 6 servings.

Source: Liz Biro

Cornwallis Yams

6 medium sweet potatoes
½ teaspoon ground cinnamon
½ teaspoon ground nutmeg
½ cup butter
3 eggs
½ cup crushed pineapple
1 cup sugar
½ cup grated coconut
1½ cups milk
More grated coconut for garnish
Boil sweet potatoes until softened. Peel and mash. Season with cinnamon, nutmeg, and butter. Beat eggs and add to potatoes. Combine with remaining ingredients. Pour into a greased 9-by-13-inch pan or a 3-quart casserole.

Bake in a 350-degree oven until light brown, about 1 hour. Top with a sprinkle of grated coconut. Serves 10.

Source: This recipe from the former Hillsborough Colonial Inn was provided by N.C. Sweet Potato Commission.

Johnny cakes, hush puppies, corn pone, corn muffins. Fluffy and yellow. Thin, crispy and almost white. Baked in a pan, steamed as dumplings atop a pot full of collards, poured into corn-shaped molds or fried in a cast iron skillet. Cornbread has seen it all.

Cornbread started changing not long after Native Americans introduced their version to New World colonists. Algonquins used the word “apan,” meaning “baked,” when they prepared their simple combination of ground corn, water and salt. The blend was boiled, cooked on hot rocks or wrapped in leaves and baked.

Apan led to the term “corn pone.” From there, the original Native American cornbread that sustained early New World settlers went in various directions.

Seeking something richer, the British added milk and eggs. Flour and eventually leaveners were mixed in to produce a lighter texture.

Despite the South’s famous reputation as having the country’s most insatiable sweet tooth, it was Northerners who preferred sweetened cornbread. Southerners liked their cornbread seasoned with salt, bacon fat and pork cracklings.

Flint yellow cornmeal blended with flour was common up North, white cornmeal stirred with little or no flour down South. Northerners wanted cakey cornbread. Southerners liked it on the crispy side – and oftentimes crumbled into a glass of buttermilk.

How the batter was cooked added to the array of styles. Cornbread baked by a fire might be spread on a propped-up hoe, plank, or stone, Mary Randolph wrote in the 1824 tome “The Virginia Housewife.”

“Each colony, each community, had its own versions and names, a tradition that faded as the iron kitchen range made all hearth cakes virtually obsolete…”

That didn’t stop cornbread’s evolution. Today, fresh jalapenos, cheddar cheese, hot dogs, blueberries, broccoli, pumpkin, fresh basil, roasted peppers, sausage, bacon, zucchini and cottage cheese have all landed in cornbread.

Chef Karen Taylor felt nary a tinge of guilt when she went to tinker with  her grandmother’s cornbread recipe. Taylor adored the family recipe made with buttermilk and baked in a well-greased cast-iron skillet. But something was missing.

“I like the sweet cornbread,” Taylor admitted. “It’s almost like having dessert and having a meal, too.”

At her Taylor Cuisine Café and Catering in Southport, Taylor cubes and toasts that slightly sweet cornbread to make croutons. She lays them on a salad of pecans, fried chicken and mixed greens. Sometimes, Taylor tops cornbread batter with salsa or drizzles it with cilantro oil before baking. She might stir in jalapeno peppers and cheese and then serve the bread with black bean soup.

One of her favorite versions of cornbread comes from a friend who operates a Jamaican restaurant in the Bronx. The fried, sweet, light bread is more like the Italian doughnut called “zeppole,” Ms. Taylor says. She likes to serve it with jerk pork or chicken. “I think the sweetness of it helps you really enjoy a spicy dish.”

Ms. Taylor doesn’t think her grandmother would mind all the cornbread recipe tweaks. Perhaps tolerance of changes is what caused cornbread to endure.

“I see it outlasting all of us,” Ms. Taylor said.

Traditional Southern-Style Cornbread

2 tablespoons Crisco vegetable oil

2 cups coarse yellow cornmeal

1 ½ cups flour

2 teaspoons kosher salt

2 teaspoons baking powder

1 teaspoon baking soda

2 tablespoons sugar, optional

3 large eggs, beaten

2 cups buttermilk

1/4 cup melted unsalted butter

Preheat oven to 425 degrees.

Put oil in a 10-inch cast iron skillet and place into oven.

In a mixing bowl, combine cornmeal, flour, salt, baking powder, baking soda, and sugar if using. In another bowl, whisk together the eggs, buttermilk and butter. Combine the dry ingredients and stir just until all ingredients are moist.

Remove skillet from oven sprinkle the bottom of skillet with dry cornmeal. Pour in batter and bake for about 20 to 25 minutes, until golden brown. Serves 8 to 10.

Vernon’s Jamaican Festival

3 cups self-rising flour

1 cup yellow coarse cornmeal

1/4 cup sugar

½ teaspoon kosher salt

1/4 teaspoon vanilla extract

1 egg

½ cup evaporated milk

1 stick unsalted butter

1/4 teaspoon grated nutmeg

A pinch of cinnamon

Ice cold water

3 cups of vegetable oil

Mix dry ingredients together in a mixing bowl. In a separate bowl, beat egg lightly, then stir in dry ingredients. Add milk and water enough to form a dough. Tear off golf-ball-sized pieces of dough and roll them in your hand.

Heat oil in a saucepan to about 250 degrees. Gently drop dough balls into oil. Fry until golden brown. Drain on paper towels. Makes about 20 pieces

Jalapeno Corn Bread

2 cups yellow coarse cornmeal

1 cup all-purpose flour

1 ½ teaspoon kosher salt

1 ½ tablespoon baking powder

2 tablespoons sugar

2 large eggs

2 egg whites

1 1/3 cups buttermilk

1/3 cup melted unsalted butter

1 cup corn kernels (can or fresh or frozen (thawed))

1/4 cup grated sharp cheddar cheese

1/4 cup finely chopped jalapeno peppers (remove seeds if you do not want too spicy)

Preheat oven to 400 degrees.

Grease 10-inch cast iron skillet and place in oven.

In a bowl, mix together dry ingredients. In another bowl whisk eggs, egg whites, buttermilk and melted butter.    Add the dry ingredients to the wet mixtures. Stir until just combined. Gently fold in corn, cheese, and jalapeno pepper.

Pour batter into hot skillet. Bake for about 30 to 35 minutes, until golden brown. Serves 8 to 10.

Source: All recipes provided by Karen Taylor.

WILMINGTON — Was it the Cape Fear region’s Brunswick County? Brunswick, Ga.? Brunswick County, Va.? All of them lay claim to the original recipe for Brunswick stew, that steaming mélange of corn, tomatoes, lima beans, potatoes and so much tender, shredded chicken.

Or should that be beef? Or pork? Or a combination of beef, pork and chicken? This is where self-proclaimed Brunswick stew purists roll their eyes. Squirrel is the choice for true Brunswick stew, they say — unless you’ve trapped a raccoon or opossum.

Wait. The debate isn’t over yet.

Some people consider black pepper vs. cayenne pepper. Others like Brunswick stew more sugar-sweet than spicy. Discussions center on soupy or thick. Georgians like Brunswick stew in a bowl; North Carolinians prefer it as a side dish to pulled pork and fried chicken, possibly because Brunswick stew is a way for barbecue houses to use up leftover pork and fried chicken.

Food arguments over regional variations on a single dish usually boil down to, as chef Larry Casey put it, growing up “dirt poor” and making do.

“When I was a kid, we normally put whatever in it,” Casey said of Brunswick stew.

The version Casey serves at his Casey’s Buffet Southern cooking restaurant in Wilmington is hardly the one he grew up loving in New Bern, where he and his cousin, as kids, trapped and sold raccoons to earn money.

“In a (Brunswick) stew, it’s (raccoon) absolutely perfect,” Casey said.

His memories sum up cause for the Brunswick stew debate. Like Casey, many Southerners recall Brunswick stews containing foods their families raised and hunted.

“My mom and my aunts always had tomatoes that had been cooked and canned in the pantry,” Casey said, “as well as corn and green beans, etc., canned in the pantry, freezer. And making Brunswick stew was definitely a means of stretching the protein.”

Turns out, Brunswick stew has always been a humble mishmash of whatever was available.

Historians say Brunswick stew started in Brunswick County, Va. They credit early 1800s slave and hunting camp cook James Matthews. Legend claims he was known for a fine squirrel stew. Matthews slow-cooked the meat on the bone with bacon, onions, butter and a crumbled loaf of stale bread, creating a rich, dense stew.

Matthews’ employer, Dr. Creed Haskins, and Haskins’ relatives living in and around Mount Donum, Va., deemed Matthews’ stew the original Brunswick stew in letters. The correspondences were printed in the 1906 booklet Brunswick County, Virginia: Information for the Homeseeker and Investor, published by the Brunswick County, Va., Board of Supervisors.

Vegetables in Brunswick stew showed up later. No one knows exactly when. Perhaps, it was the batch Haskins is said to have made famous at an 1828 rally for Andrew Jackson. Corn and limas hark to Native American succotash. “It seems safe to say that Indians were making stews with wild game long before any Europeans arrived, and in that sense, there was Brunswick stew before there was a Brunswick,” the late Southern cuisine authority John Edgerton wrote in Southern Food (Alfred A. Knopf, 1987).

Sacred as “authentic” Brunswick stew is to its fans, recipe tinkering continues.

“Indeed, it would appear that there is not just one secret but even tens of thousands of secrets, at least one for every Southerner who makes the stuff,” author Wilber W. Caldwell wrote of Brunswick stew in Searching for the Dixie Barbecue: Journeys Into the Southern Psyche (Pineapple Press, 2005).

Champion Brunswick stew maker Oren Knicely’s various recipes respect most opinions of what constitutes true Brunswick stew.

The Shallotte resident a few times has won the December Brunswick County Brunswick stew cook-off, usually held in conjuction with the town’s Christmas parade. He also competes in the Brunswick, Ga., Brunswick stew cook-off, but he alters his secret recipe to suit Georgia tastes.

For North Carolinians, Knicely adds smoked pork, brisket and chicken breast in a stew of onions, tomatoes, okra, potatoes, carrots, lima beans and creamed corn.

“When you’re eating it, it’s got just a little bit of sweet then the heat kicks in right behind the heat,” Knicely said.

In Georgia, cooks prefer pulled pork and pulled chicken in a more vinegary, ultra-thick stew.

No matter the recipe, one characteristic is key across state lines. “The paddle you’re stirring with should stand up (in the finished stew) without a problem – freestand,” Knicely said.

Rules and tradition don’t stop N.C. chefs from doctoring Brunswick stew. They may begin with a classic mirepoix  — chopped onion, carrot and celery sautéed together. To that, they might add garlic, herbs, smoky chilies, homemade barbecue sauce and grilled meats.

“Maybe a deconstructed thing, where you have the butter beans and corn with a pork chop, and the Brunswick stew flavors in the background.” Wilmington chef James Doss brainstormed.

The owner of the Port City’s Rx and Pembroke’s restaurants grew up eating Brunswick stew alongside barbecue in the eastern N.C. pulled-pork capital of Goldsboro.

How about a cornbread bowl filled with Brunswick stew, Doss said. “Or maybe with grilled chicken or a grilled pork chop or braised and pressed pork belly, stewed butter beans and fresh heirloom tomato sauce.”

The original Brunswick stew formula may never emerge. Two things are for sure: Different recipes will always stir a fuss, and wondering who is right is a mystery best served with big helpings of Brunswick stew.

“When I was a kid,” Casey said, “I didn’t know anything about it — except we cooked it and we loved it.”

Sometimes even before sunrise on Saturdays when I was a child, my family of part-time fishers were on Onslow County’s New River headed to our favorite clamming hole. While one of us kids dug clams with my mother, another of us rode with Dad on a small skiff pulling a shrimp trawl, setting nets or looking for oysters. Once, we lucked up on shallows teeming with bay scallops.

No matter how tired we were at the end of the work day, enough energy always remained to fry up a batch of seafood fritters.

A mountain of the fluffy, fried pillows, golden brown and jammed full of chopped shrimp, scallops or clams, sometimes a combination, teetered on the same platter each weekend. What looked like enough to feed a crowd was quickly consumed by my family of just four.

My Italian mother, who knew little of cooking seafood until we moved from central New Jersey to the N.C. coast, based our fritter recipe on one she acquired from a Harkers Island friend named Roma Nelson Chadwick. Our neighbors were related to Roma, and sometimes we were invited to accompany them to “dinner,” meaning lunch, at Roma’s tidy Harkers Island home. Her small table, covered in the cleanest white cloth I’d ever seen, was a groaning board holding the weight of bread, collards, seafood, sweet corn, fresh tomatoes and, one day, clam fritters.

“What are those?” my mother said, zooming in on fritters that likely reminded her of the delicious things that come out of fry shops known as “friggitorie” in Naples, Italy, not far from her hometown.

Roma described a simple recipe: Stir together water, seasonings and self-rising flour in a bowl. Add chopped clams. Drop spoonfuls of the batter into hot oil. Fry until browned. Serve hot, cold or at room temperature.

And we did, by the dozens, as coastal N.C. families have done for generations.

I found a recipe almost just like Roma’s in Island Born and Bred, a community cookbook collection of Harkers Island recipes, lore and history. It contained scallops. Another recipe relied on the clams’ own juices rather than water to moisten the batter.

That Harkers Island “high tiders,” the name islanders give to folks born and raised “on the water,” regularly fry seafood fritters is no surprise. Nearly every culture has fritter-type foods, which date to the ancient Romans. The name fritter stems from the Latin frigere, which means “fry.” Some historians think fritters may have been introduced from the Middle East, by Crusaders returning to Western Europe, according to An A-Z of Food & Drink by John Ayto (Oxford University Press, 2002).

Besides being familiar, fritters are a delicious way to stretch food portions during lean times. No one complains about too little meat in a tasty morsel of deep-fried dough.

Roma showed my mother clam fritters. Back home, Mom decided to use the fritter recipe for shrimp and scallops, too. It became my job to make the batter. Even as a kid, I was never required to measure ingredients for this dish. The only instructions that mattered were: 1) Season well (Mom liked plenty of garlic, basil, paprika, salt, black pepper and a touch of cayenne or crushed red pepper in the batter), 2) Make the batter runny, just a tad thinner than pancake batter and 3) Use lots of seafood

I coarsely chopped the seafood, usually raw shrimp unless we had leftover steamed shrimp in the refrigerator.

I have since found various versions of coastal Carolina seafood fritters. Some call for milk, eggs or both. Recipes may contain a little onion or bell pepper, but mostly seasonings are salt and black pepper. It was Mom’s idea to bump up the spice.

Anytime someone in my mother’s neighborhood clique made a new recipe, they shared samples with everyone in the circle. Mom was no different. Before long, we had lots of neighbors stopping by for fritters once they saw our boat back on its trailer in the driveway after a day a fishing.

Eventually, Mom’s friends crafted their own recipe. We called ours “shrimp patties,” as if we had invented something completely different from a fritter. Of course, we hadn’t. When the hot fritters came from the frying pan, someone always mentioned Roma.

Scallop Fritters

2 cups chopped scallops

¾ cup self-rising flour

Salt and pepper to taste

1/3 cup water

Mix ingredients. Using 2 tablespoons of mixture for each fritter, fry in hot oil. Yield 14-16 fritters.

Note: Mix should be the consistency of thick pancake batter mix.

Source: Jan Gillikin for Island Born and Bred: A Collection of Harkers Island Food, Fun, Fact and Fiction, compiled by the Harkers Island United Methodist Women and available at Core Sound Waterfowl Museum and Heritage Center in Harkers Island.

The following recipes require cooks to use their intuition. Exact proportions are not given for some ingredients.

Fried Clam Fritters

1 quart shucked clams

1 medium onion, diced

Salt and pepper to taste

Flour

Gut clams; wash three times, chop fine. Add onions, flour, salt and pepper. Spoon out fritter and fry in heated oil in iron frying pan, until golden brown. Yield 12-15 servings.

Source: Nannie Raye Poole for Island Born and Bred: A Collection of Harkers Island Food, Fun, Fact and Fiction, compiled by the Harkers Island United Methodist Women and available at Core Sound Waterfowl Museum and Heritage Center in Harkers Island.

Conch Fritters

1 quart prepared conchs, ground in food processor

Flour

1 medium onion

1 small bell pepper

1 egg

Salt and pepper to taste

Cooking oil

Mix all ingredients, except conchs, to make batter – dicing onion and bell pepper. Add conchs and fry in heated oil until golden brown.

Source: Carmen Koonce for Island Born and Bred: A Collection of Harkers Island Food, Fun, Fact and Fiction, compiled by the Harkers Island United Methodist Women and available at Core Sound Waterfowl Museum and Heritage Center in Harkers Island.

Living on the N.C. coast taught me to love layer cake.

Back in New Jersey, where I was born to an Italian mother and Hungarian father, cake meant fancy European coffee-house style slices. Neatly trimmed, slim layers alternated with barely there butter cream. Frosting was for design, a sophisticated curl of dark chocolate ganache, scallops of hardly sweetened whipped cream.

Down South, our neighbors brought us ultra-tall, jumbo wedges of carrot cake, red velvet cake and a mound of pudding-soft orange cake and Cool Whip frosting they called “pig pickin’ cake.”

The flavors varied. One thing was always the same. Lots of frosting. Lots and lots and lots of frosting. When writer Misti Lee of Jacksonville and I decided to pen a book about Southern layer cakes, Misti, who grew up in Duplin County, put it this way: “The cake is just a vehicle to get the frosting into your mouth.”

Layer cake is my favorite dessert, and anytime I think about a slice, Linda Johnson comes to mind. “Miss Johnson,” as her culinary students respectfully called her (although she talked about her husband often), for years headed Lenoir Community College’s culinary program in Kinston, where I received much of my culinary training.

Miss Johnson was a born-and-bred Southern cook. She made biscuits every day and insisted eggs topped a true eastern North Carolina fish stew.

Her talk of layer cakes most mesmerized me. Once when I interviewed her for a story about Southern layer cakes, Miss Johnson sat at her kitchen table ticking off recipes and cake-baking tips as if she was reading them from a cookbook.

“Pans must not only be greased, but lined with wax paper, then greased again and dusted with flour,” she preached that day, as she had done so many times in class. “Layers should cool in their pans for 10 minutes before being turned onto a rack. When it’s time to frost, the first layer goes topside down on a plate and the next layer, topside up.”

“If it’s a pineapple cake,” Miss Johnson said, “then it’s got to have seven-minute frosting,” named for the time it takes to whip warm sugar syrup into egg whites, thus creating a meringue frosting as soft as the insides of toasted marshmallows.

Miss Johnson was a blend of food science and Southern flair. The science came from the home economics degree she earned at Meredith College and the 30 years she worked as a dietician. The rest she knew by heart. Her mother, aunts and grandmothers taught her how to cook.

“That’s where I acquired my skills in culinary arts,” Miss Johnson said.

At Grandma Smith’s house on the same nearly 300-year-old farmstead in Contentnea where Mrs. Johnson lived with her husband, daughter, two sons and grandson, a homemade sweet was served with every dinner. Aunt Mary Edna’s signature was spiced layer cake with cooked caramel icing. The most enviable treat of them all was Aunt Sudie’s Japanese fruitcake.

“Oh the fruit filling between the layers, between the light sponge layers, was absolutely heavenly,” Mrs. Johnson recalled.

Miss Johnson baked her first cake when she was in third grade. The boxed mix came with its own pan. By the time she was a teenager, everyone knew Mrs. Johnson for her chocolate layer cake with plenty of chocolate frosting and pecans sprinkled on top.

When she landed at Lenoir Community College in 1984, Miss Johnson established baking classes, often drawing on the expertise of her family and telling stories about their kitchens, where fresh milk, churned butter and home-rendered lard were pantry staples.

“There was always dessert at my grandmother’s house,” Miss Johnson said, “She kept cake in the freezer. You’d be able to go in and get a hunk, then you’d keep fanning it, hoping it would soon thaw.”

Grandmother Hart’s crowning glory, in Miss Johnson’s opinion, was angle cake with lemon filling. The white layers, Miss Johnson said, would “disintegrate on the tongue.” The masterpiece was always slathered with seven-minute frosting.

Miss Johnson died in 2009, and I miss her terribly. She was my best teacher of all time. Always encouraging, always smiling, always happy to talk food. Her stories and recipes continue to inspire my articles on Southern dishes. Her layer cake recipes are my go-to formulas. Even when I devise my own recipes, I always keep her definition of a true Southern layer cake in mind.

“A layer cake with a filling and a luscious icing – that’s a Southern layer cake,” she told me. “And it has to be sweet. It has to be ultra-sweet.”

Just like Miss Johnson.

Carrot Cake

2 cups sifted all-purpose flour

2 cups sugar

1½ teaspoons baking soda

1 teaspoon salt

1 teaspoon cinnamon

2 teaspoons baking powder

4 eggs, slightly beaten

3 cups finely grated carrots

1½ cups chopped pecans or walnuts

1½ cups oil

2 teaspoons vanilla

Cream Cheese Frosting (recipe follows)

Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Grease and flour two 9-inch round cake pans.

Combine flour, sugar, baking soda, salt, cinnamon and baking powder. Set aside.

In a large mixing bowl, combine eggs, carrots, nuts, oil and vanilla. Beat until well combined. Gradually add flour mixture and beat just until flour is incorporated.

Pour batter into prepared pans. Bake 40 minutes or until a toothpick inserted in center of cakes comes out clean. Let cakes cool in pans on wire racks for 5 minutes. Remove cakes from pans and cool on wire racks.

Arrange one cake layer on a serving platter. Frost top with Cream Cheese Frosting. Cover with second layer. Frost sides and top of cake. Keep cake covered and refrigerated. Serves 12 to 14.

Cream Cheese Frosting

1 8-ounce package cream cheese

1 stick of margarine

1 16-ounce box powdered sugar

1 tablespoon lemon juice

1 cup chopped walnuts or pecans

Bring cream cheese and margarine to room temperature. Place cream cheese and margarine in a mixing bowl. With electric mixer on medium speed, cream together cheese and margarine. Gradually add powdered sugar and lemon juice. Mix well. Stir in nuts. Spread frosting on cooled cake.

Cherished Christmas Cake

When Linda Johnson’s son Louie celebrated his eighth birthday, he flipped through an old cookbook and selected a recipe for vanilla layer cake with fruit filling and white frosting. His mother convinced him the cake should be four layers instead of two and slathered with extra frosting. Louie is an adult now, and his selection has become one of the Johnson family’s favorite holiday desserts.

For the cake:

1 cup butter

2 cups of sugar

1 tablespoon vanilla

1 cup milk

3½ cups self-rising flour, sifted (see cook’s note)

8 egg whites

For the filling:

1½ cups golden raisins

1½ cup chopped red candied cherries

1½ cups chopped pecans or walnuts

1½ cup unsweetened, frozen shredded coconut

½ cup sherry

12 egg yolks, slightly beaten

1¾ cups sugar

¾ cup butter

½ teaspoon salt

For the frosting:

1½ cups sugar

1 teaspoon cream of tartar

½ cup water

4 egg whites

1 teaspoon vanilla

Cook’s note: Mrs. Johnson liked to save a little time by using self-rising flour “whenever possible” for cakes, but she sifted the flour three times to achieve the light texture of cake flour.

Prepare the cake: Grease four 8-inch cake pans, line bottoms with wax paper, then grease and flour pans. Preheat oven to 350 degrees.

Place butter in mixing bowl and cream using mixer set at medium speed. Add sugar and continue beating until mixture is light and fluffy. Add vanilla to milk in measuring cup. Alternately add flour and milk mixture to creamed butter, beginning and ending with flour.

In a separate bowl, beat egg whites until stiff peaks form. Gently fold egg whites into batter.

Spoon batter into prepared pans. Bake at 350 degrees for 20 to 25 minutes. Cool cakes in pans for 10 minutes on wire racks. Remove cakes from pans onto racks. Remove wax paper from cakes and cool cakes completely.

Prepare filling: Combine raisins, cherries, nuts and coconut in large bowl and drizzle with sherry. Set aside.

Combine egg yolks, sugar, butter and salt in a heavy saucepan. Cook on medium heat, stirring constantly until mixture thickens to coat the back of a spoon. Pour over fruit and nut mixture. Stir well. Cool completely.

Prepare frosting: Combine sugar, cream of tartar and water in a heavy saucepan. Cook over medium-high heat until syrup reaches 240 degrees (soft-ball stage). Meanwhile, beat egg whites until soft peaks form.

When syrup reaches the correct temperature, add it in a slow, steady stream to beaten eggs whites with the mixer running. Continue beating until stiff peaks form and icing is thick enough to spread. Add vanilla toward the end of mixing.

Assemble cake: Place one layer, topside down, on cake plate. Spread one-third of filling over cake. Place next layer topside up. Spread one-third of filling over cake. Place third layer, topside down, over filling. Spread remaining filling over the layer. Place last layer topside up. Frost sides then top of cake with icing.

Makes 12 to 14 servings.

Source: All recipes by Linda Johnson

You won’t find an entry for “collards” inside The Oxford Companion to Food. The alphabetical order where the vegetable would fit into the granddaddy of food encyclopedias asks you to “See kale.”

“Humph,” coastal North Carolinians would say. Kale and collards may be in the same cabbage family, but Tar Heels will tell you collards are not the same as kale. They might say collards should be “the new kale,” since collards taste better than wildly popular kale, especially how Southerners cook collards.

Some of them start by simmering a few ham hocks for a couple hours and then add “a mess of greens” to the pot. Others fry strips of fatback bacon in a big stock pot before adding collards and water. Either way, the monster leaves must be simmered for a couple hours to achieve the tender, dark green, just-bitter morsels and their intensely savory broth known down South as “potlikker.”

Ancient Greeks believed cabbages sprang from the sweat of a nervous Zeus as he was trying to explain conflicting prophecies. Despite collards’ link to the greatest of Greek gods, Greeks didn’t like cabbage. But the Romans did. Collards grew wild along the Mediterranean, and Romans probably spread them around Europe. By the early 1600s, British colonists were growing collards in what became the American South.

The vegetables took well to eastern North Carolina’s sandy soils, growing in fall, winter and spring. Collards don’t mind the cold. Southerners say collards taste best after the first frost. A bit of freeze tempers the vegetable’s distinctive bitterness.

African slaves working in the South created the collard greens stewed with pork that modern diners know and love. Cooks simmered the greens, among the few vegetables they were allowed to grow, with whatever bits of meat they were given, oftentimes pigs feet, ham hocks or chitterlings.

Today, collards are a definitive Southern food, but for the past few years, they’ve been showing up on menus at both casual and fancy restaurants across America. They might be braised with chipotle chilies or cut into thin ribbons and stir-fried with Asian seasonings. I think raw collard leaves make fine wrappers for sliced roast chicken and julienned carrots, cucumbers, jicama and sweet bell peppers, something akin to lettuce wraps.

One of the most popular salads at Lovey’s Market in Wilmington blends tofu and chopped, raw, organic collards and other greens in tamari vinaigrette. Near Wrightsville Beach, Port Land Grille chef Shawn Wellersdick uses words like “jazz” and “adaptable” to describe collards. His famous Redneck Eggrolls are filled with pulled pork barbecue and local collards. Wellersdick serves them alongside mango mint dipping sauce.

When collards are stewing, they send out a powerful aroma. Some people call it a “stench,” perhaps a remnant of anxious Zeus himself. Wellersdick, a Connecticut native, doesn’t mind the odor.

“To me it’s a smell that there’s a meal going on,” he said. “You know you’re gonna’ get supper.”

Collards here in North Carolina are sorta like ACC basketball. Every cook has an opinion about how best to cook them. This video shows a fairly standard Southern method, though we would quibble about adding sugar. Start with fresh collards, especially if picked after a frost, and there should be no need to artificially sweeten them.

Stewed Collards

2 pounds of collards, washed and thick stems trimmed

1/4 pound salt pork, cut into 1/4-inch thick slices (see cook’s note)

½ cup water or chicken stock

1 to 2 tablespoons rendered bacon fat

Sea salt

Crushed red pepper

Pinch of sugar (see cook’s note)

Cook’s note: Salt pork is salt-cured pork cut from the pig’s belly and sides. It is similar to bacon, but fattier and unsmoked. The leaner cuts are called here in the South “steak o’ lean.” Fatback is different from salt pork in that it is unsalted. Salt pork is available at most supermarkets.

Southern cooks might add a pinch of sugar to the collards while their cooking or near the end of cooking to help temper the vegetable’s bitter flavor. You don’t want to taste the sugar, so add pinch and taste to determine if more sugar is needed.

Procedure: Stack collard leaves, roll and slice into 1/2-inch-wide strips. Set aside. Place a stockpot over medium-low heat. Place salt pork in the pot and slowly cook until fat has been rendered and pork is crisp. Remove the meat or leave it in the pot. Add chicken stock to the pan and then the collards. When collards are just wilted, add the bacon grease. Season greens with salt and crushed red pepper to taste. Simmer collards, covered, until tender, about 2 hours.

Serves 4.

Lovey’s Tofu and Greens Salad

1/4 pound extra firm tofu

2 tablespoons tamari

½ pound raw collards, washed and torn into bite-sized pieces

½ pound raw greens, such as kale or turnips, torn into bite-sized pieces

2 tablespoons rice wine vinegar

1/3 cup tamari

1/3 cup olive oil

Fresh ground black pepper, to taste

1 cup thinly sliced red cabbage

Cut tofu into 1/2-inch thick slices. Cover with 2 tablespoons of tamari and marinate in the refrigerator for two hours. Press liquid from tofu. Place tofu on a baking sheet. Bake tofu in convection oven, preheated to 250 degrees, for 1 hour. Set aside to cool.

Place greens in a large mixing bowl. Combine rice wine vinegar and tamari in a medium mixing bowl. Slowly whisk in olive oil. Pour dressing over greens and toss. Carefully mix in tofu. Season with pepper. Refrigerate salad for at least 1 hour. Sprinkle red cabbage over salad and serve.

Serves 4

Years ago, I found myself standing in a Piggly Wiggly check-out line behind the owner of a popular country cooking restaurant in Jacksonville. She purchased just two ingredients: a mound of well-ripened bananas and boxes of Nilla Wafers, leaving no doubt as to what was on the dessert menu that day: ’nana puddin’.

Attend a family reunion, church supper, holiday gathering or funeral wake in eastern North Carolina you’re bound to see a big pan of banana pudding. The soft, sweet custard full of banana flavor melts its typical Nilla Wafer crust as quickly as it does Southerners’ hearts.

Try to forget instant pudding layered with store-bought vanilla wafers and frozen whipped topping. Yes, it tastes good, and it is an approved substitute among many Southern cooks, but it’s not real banana pudding.

Many eastern North Carolinians remember their grandmothers’ banana puddings as homemade baked custards wearing meringue crowns. The dessert is kin to British milk puddings of the 1800s.

Early in America’s history, importing bananas from the faraway tropics to American shores was an expensive undertaking. Around the 1870s, two American entrepreneurs focused on shipping bananas from the Caribbean to Boston, New York and New Orleans. A decade later, banana recipes showed up in American cookbooks. By the early 1900s, many listed banana pudding, a dessert that satisfied Southern sweet-tooths.

Around the 1950s, quick recipes using convenience products replaced meringue-topped, homemade banana puddings. After all, lots could go wrong with the old recipes. The custard might be soupy, the meringue spongy. Cooks embraced instant banana pudding in packages that required simply adding milk and stirring before pouring the mixture over packaged vanilla cookies lining a pan. The garnish? Cool Whip, of course.

Nowadays, easy banana pudding recipes rule, but every now and then, it’s nice to compromise with a past-meets-present version. Top it with fresh whipped cream instead of meringue if you’d like.

Old-fashioned Banana Pudding With Custard and Meringue

For pudding:

3/4 cup sugar

1/3 cup all-purpose flour

Dash of salt

3 egg yolks

1 3/4 cups milk

1 teaspoon vanilla extract

6 ripe bananas, sliced

About 18 vanilla wafers

For the meringue:

4 egg whites

1/4 teaspoon cream of tartar

6 tablespoons sugar

½ teaspoon vanilla extract

Prepare pudding: In a double-boiler over simmering water, mix sugar, flour and salt. Beat egg yolks and combine with milk. Add yolks and milk to sugar mixture, stirring constantly to blend well. Cook uncovered, stirring frequently, for 10 to 15 minutes, until mixture thickens. Remove from heat and stir in vanilla.

In a Pyrex loaf pan, spread one-third of the cooked custard. Top with one-third of bananas, then one-third of vanilla wafers. Repeat for two additional layers or more, if ingredients permit.

Prepare meringue: Preheat the oven to 350 degrees.

In a mixing bowl, beat egg whites until frothy with an electric mixer. Add cream of tartar. Continue beating until the whites stand in soft peaks that fall over when the beater is removed. Then beat in the sugar a tablespoon at a time. After all sugar is used, beat in the vanilla.

Assemble pudding: Spread meringue over the pudding, covering the entire surface and the edges of the pan. Bake for about 15 minutes or until meringue is slightly browned. Refrigerate until ready to serve. Serves 4 to 6.

This is part a monthly series about the food of the N.C. coast. Our Coast’s Food is about the culinary traditions and history of N.C. coast. The series covers the history of the region’s food, profiles the people who grow it and cook it, offers cooking tips — how hot should the oil be to fry fish? — and passes along some of our favorite recipes. Send along any ideas for stories you would like us to do or regional recipes you’d like to share. If there’s a story behind the recipe, we’d love to hear it.

If someone on the North Carolina coast asks you if you want a “pamena” cheese sandwich, you’ve hit gold.

“Carolina caviar” and “southern pate” are other names for the preparation you are about to receive, assuming you are in your right mind and said yes to the offer.

“Pamena,” is southern for “pimento” as in “pimento cheese.” The recipe has gotten downright uppity at restaurants, supermarket cheese counters and the home kitchens of foodies who can’t let classics rest. In my mind, no version matches the South’s simple blend of mayonnaise, Cheddar or hoop cheese and sweet red peppers named pimento. Old-timers still call the combination “pamena” cheese.

I’ve seen pimento cheese containing fresh garlic, Jarlsberg cheese, Chinese hot mustard, ground ancho chili and wasabi. One recipe I found suggested a mix of Velveeta and Miracle Whip on tortilla chips instead of the old-fashioned pimento cheese sandwich on white bread.

Well, bless their hearts (translation: they have no idea what they’re doing).

Many a mama has made pimento cheese in eastern North Carolina. Tubs of old-fashioned pimento cheese are sold in country convenience stores and old-school grocers like Piggly Wiggly. A pimento cheese sandwich remains a quick, tasty, nourishing lunch for farmers, fishermen and road workers.

A lot of pimento cheese is found east of North Carolina’s I-95 and west, too, but it’s probably not a North Carolina invention.

A German man served beer and cheese spread at his Frankfort, Ky., saloon in the early 1900s. The South’s British ancestors are famous for potted cheeses. Some research claims that the first pimento cheese was like the stuff you buy in those little Kraft jars, all cream cheese and sweet red peppers prepared and packed in a factory.

Well, bless their hearts.

Southerners may have been inspired by all the marketing that surrounded early commercial pimento cheese in jars. If they were, I think they made pimento cheese better. They grated some of that big round of hoop cheese you still see in N.C. country stores and mixed it with sweet red peppers that grew so well in the South. Homemade dressing or the South’s famous Duke’s mayonnaise held it all together.

However it came about, pimento cheese is ubiquitous in the South and now more famous that those early commercial versions. At 95-year-old Robert’s Market in Wrightsville Beach, hundreds of pounds of true pimento are sold each week. You’ll find Robert’s pimento cheese at supermarkets like Harris Teeter, too.

Years ago, when the Robert’s spread was made by the loving hands of Mary Shepard, I talked with her about the recipe.

“You can’t have it,” Shepard said.

The secret formula is former market owner Eva Cross’ old-fashioned recipe, Shepard said. All Shepard would tell me about Robert’s pimento cheese was “it’s the real thing,” a mix of “the right mayonnaise,” good cheese, pimentos and “maybe a little something else.”

Shepard was well familiar with “the real thing.” The Brunswick County native grew up on a farm, where she learned to make pimento cheese from her mother, who she figured learned it from her mother.

Shepard wouldn’t give me that recipe either. She said she would pass it on to her children, although she didn’t have the recipe written down.

“I just know it by heart,” she said.

Old-fashioned Pimento Cheese

Based on my chat with Mary Shepard, I developed this recipe. The trick to pimento cheese is getting the correct ratio of cheese to peppers to mayonnaise. The mixture should be soft enough to spread but not so soft that it runs out the sides of your white bread sandwich, untoasted, of course. You may serve it on crackers, preferably Ritz. Bless my heart, I’ve even spread it on fried pork skins.

1 pound hoop cheese or sharp Cheddar cheese, orange not white

1 7-ounce jar chopped pimentos

Tabasco sauce, cayenne pepper or ground black pepper, to taste

1⁄2 to 2/3 cup Duke’s mayonnaise

Finely grate cheese and place in a large bowl. Gently stir in pimentos and Tabasco sauce or pepper of choice. Fold in mayonnaise. Stir until smooth, but do not mash. Mixture should have noticeable bits of pimento. Refrigerate three hours or overnight. Makes about 3 cups.

Source: Liz Biro

This is part a monthly series about the food of the N.C. coast. Our Coast’s Food is about the culinary traditions and history of N.C. coast. The series covers the history of the region’s food, profiles the people who grow it and cook it, offers cooking tips — how hot should the oil be to fry fish? — and passes along some of our favorite recipes. Send along any ideas for stories you would like us to do or regional recipes you’d like to share. If there’s a story behind the recipe, we’d love to hear it.

Onslow County native Clennie Davis told me a story back in 2007, when he was 95 years old, about how his family in the early 1900s took a mule cart down a dirt road now known as U.S. 17 enroute to Wilmington, where they sold homegrown produce at the downtown curb market.

Davis and I were talking about muscadine grapes at his son’s vineyard in Jacksonville. I asked if anyone back then sold muscadines at the market. Not really, Davis answered, because most people grew their own grapes to eat and use for wine.

Some of them had wine houses, places where they prepared, stored and sometimes served homemade wine mostly to hardworking men who needed a break at the end of the day.

Muscadine winemaking was a simple affair, Davis said. The grapes were crushed, sometimes by hand, placed in a container or barrel with sugar and left to ferment for about a week, less during hot weather.

Occasionally, unstrained wine was served directly from the barrel.

His tales of wine-making and his family camping at Hampstead because they couldn’t make the mule cart trip to Wilmington grew my appreciation for the ruddy, thick-skinned grapes named muscadine.

Oenophiles abhor the “musky,” sugary wine the grapes yield. Wine shop clerks have hung up on me when I’ve called to ask if they carry muscadine wine.

To eat the grape is another chore. With your thumb and index finger you must squeeze the pulp from its thick skin. What comes out may remind you of allergy season, and hidden within are seeds as big as BBs.

But muscadines are worth the effort. They have a significant history beyond North Carolina, and it dates back much farther than U.S. 17.

The Muscadine Story

“The history of the muscadine is older than the state of North Carolina; it’s older than the history of this country,” Randy Drew said.

Like Davis and many other Eastern North Carolinians, Drew grew up with muscadine grapes. Raised in Duplin County, he picked wild grapes that still grow in coastal woodlands, watched his uncle make muscadine wine and often passed by vines growing at Rose Hill’s Duplin Winery, billed the world’s largest muscadine winery.

Drew, a Wilmington photographer and videographer, loves history. While researching the Civil War, he kept running into mentions and pictures of muscadine grapes. The more he saw, the more the grapes popped his cork. He ended up compiling a timeline tracking muscadines.

Drew has found reports of documents discovered in modern-day Morocco that mention 8th century boat trips from that country along what may have been the Gulf Steam to a place where travelers found grapes on the edge of waterways.

In 1524, explorer Giovanni de Verrazano wrote of wild vines along the Cape Fear Valley that would “without doubt” make good wine. A year later, explorer Ralph Lane reported to Sir Walter Raleigh that grapes along the Carolina shore were “of such greatness, yet wild, as France, Spain, nor Italy hath no greater.”

The scuppernong, native only to North Carolina, became America’s first cultivated grape. It was, of course, grown in North Carolina.

Drew’s research has taken him to Manteo’s legendary Mother Vine, a gigantic, centuries-old scuppernong vine that the N.C. Wine and Grape Council says is the nation’s oldest known grapevine and that some people believe is the source of all cultivated scuppernong vines in America.

“There is a reverence that you feel when you are not looking at the mother vine but standing under it,” Drew says. “It’s almost like being in a natural cathedral.”

By the early 1800s, Washington County had a successful grape-growing and wine-making operation. Scuppernong wine, Drew says, was among Thomas Jefferson’s three favorite wines, the other two being European. In 1840, North Carolina was the new nation’s top wine producer.

In a letter to a friend, Jefferson wrote that North Carolina’s scuppernong wine “would be distinguished on the best tables in Europe, for its fine aroma, and chrystalline transparence.”

And so it was. In 1900, North Carolina commercial winemaker Paul Garrett’s scuppernong wine, made at Garrett and Co. near Weldon, won ribbons at the Paris Exposition. Four years later, his scuppernong champagne won the grand prize at the Louisiana Purchase Exhibition in St. Louis, despite international competition.

“The North Carolina wine industry is 100 years older than the California wine industry,” Drew noted.

Rise and Fall

While scuppernongs are native to North Carolina, muscadine grapes grow throughout the South. The range aided the wine’s advance. Even during Prohibition, Drew says, muscadine wine thrived among home winemakers, and Garrett sold wine-making supplies and kits.

Sweet wine was the preference of Americans, but as demand grew, muscadine wine quality declined. The wine was often blended or watered down, Drew said. Meantime, travel and overseas wars exposed Americans to European wines. As Americans become more affluent after World War II, they wanted dry, subtle French wines not the cheap jug wine that muscadine had become.

Muscadine wine may have fallen out of favor nationally, but local affection for the wine never wavered. It seems everyone has a muscadine story to tell.

When I told a friend in Warrenton that I was working on a muscadine article, he described an old recipe that calls for filling a glass wine jug two-thirds of the way up with whole grapes and then sugar to fill, he said. Cap the bottle, bury it under about a foot of dirt and leave it there for some months to ferment.

Even my Italian uncle took a stab at making muscadine wine. As we sipped his potent, syrupy brew after one of our regular, Sunday family pasta dinners, his sister-in-law, Dot Vanover, now in her 90s, told us how she and her siblings made wine when they were growing up on an Onslow County farm.

“We would take us a bucket of those grapes out to the woods and leave them there by a tree, and when we went back a week or two later we’d have us some wine,” she said. “And if my daddy found that bucket in the woods, he sure would give us a whipping.”

Comeback Trail

Muscadines made a comeback after studies found that they are high in an organic compound that lowers cholesterol.

Add fresh muscadine juice to any vinaigrette at the same time that you add the vinegar. The juice will lend sweetness and flavor. This heirloom tomato, muscadine  and pickled okra salad incorporated muscadines, pomegranate and molasses. It showed up at a past Culinary Adventures with Liz Biro cooking class with chef Tyson Amick at Aubriana’s restaurant in Wilmington. Photos: Liz Biro

Prohibition, competition, taxes and changing tastes decimated North Carolina’s thriving wine industry by 1968. A few years later, when state legislature cut winery licensing fees and the tax on native table wine, grape growers united and vineyards starting popping up in the now-famous Yadkin Valley. Viticulture and wine-making expanded again, albeit wines made from European grapes.

Muscadines eventually made a comeback, too, especially after researchers in the 1990s reported that red muscadine grapes contain a high concentration of an organic chemical compound named resveratrol. Studies show that resveratrol, found in the skin of red grapes and in red wine, helps lower cholesterol and may have anti-aging and anti-inflammatory effects.

The news gave layperson wine drinkers license to admit they preferred sweet wines, and muscadine vineyards started popping up along I-40 between Raleigh and Wilmington. The wines themselves became better too, ranging from super sweet to mid-sweet and semi-dry.

I told all of these facts and stories on food tours I used to lead in downtown Wilmington. Our final stop was always a cupcake shop, where I poured everyone a sample of muscadine wine. So many noses twisted. Some people couldn’t stand the wine’s distinctive aroma. But as I shared the drink’s history, faces softened.

I suggested that because muscadine wine is often so sweet, that it might be considered a dessert wine or used in a wine cooler with sparkling water and a squeeze of lemon, served on the rocks.

Use sweet red muscadine wine to cook your holiday ham, I advised. For generations, North Carolinians have put muscadine grape hulls in jam and pie filling. I see top chefs tapping muscadines more often, too, whether in fancy sauces or sophisticated desserts.

This fall, at acclaimed The Chef and The Farmer restaurant in Kinston, celebrity chef Vivian Howard offers wood-roasted trout with muscadine vinaigrette on the dinner menu. On her Public Television show, “A Chef’s Life,” she devoted an entire episode to muscadines.

“Too many times, muscadine growers have apologized too much. We apologize for the bitterness, our grape has big seeds or tough skin,” Drew said. “Don’t apologize for the healthiest grape in the world.”

A glimpse into the style of dress at the Lumina Pavillion at Wrightsville Beach in the early 20th century. Elegant attire suited fussy crabs minced Mayonnaire, creamed sweetbreads in casserole, soft-shelled crab au canape and roast Long Island duckling with kumquat marmalade. Photo: Wrightsville Beach Museum of History

This is part a monthly series about the food of the N.C. coast. Our Coast’s Food is about the culinary traditions and history of N.C. coast. The series covers the history of the region’s food, profiles the people who grow it and cook it, offers cooking tips — how hot should the oil be to fry fish? — and passes along some of our favorite recipes. Send along any ideas for stories you would like us to do or regional recipes you’d like to share. If there’s a story behind the recipe, we’d love to hear it.

WRIGHTSVILLE BEACH — Seafood platters mounded with fried shrimp and fish, Tower 7 restaurant’s fish tacos and Roberts Market’s grab-and-go snacks seem forever woven into Wrightsville Beach’s dining culture, but forget tartar sauce, salsa fresca and tubs of pimento cheese 100 years ago.

Victorian ladies showed up to fancy dinners in lacy, white, cotton dresses. Their escorts wore tall, neck-binding collars, tailored jackets and shiny pocket watches in their fitted vest compartments.

The Wilmington Seacoast Railroad Co. began running its “Beach Car” in 1888.

Elegant attire suited fussy crabs minced Mayonnaire, creamed sweetbreads in casserole, soft-shelled crab au canape and roast Long Island duckling with kumquat marmalade.

Over the past two years, Wilmington historian Elaine Henson has felt among the diners. She researched the history of Wrightsville Beach restaurants for a July program that was titled “A Century of Dining at Wrightsville: 1880s to 1980s.” She gave the presentation at the Wrightsville Beach Museum of History, next door to the N.C. Coastal Federation’s new satellite office and coastal education center.

“It wasn’t like it is today,” Henson said of yesteryear dining. “Not at all.”

For starters, diners didn’t walk from their beach houses or drive their cars to restaurants. Before there was public transportation to the beach, visitors, in their snazzy clothes, rode little skiffs for their “excursions” to the shore.

The first restaurants debuted in 1884 at Seaside Park and Pine Grove hotels, on Wrightsville Sound. When Wilmington Seacoast Railroad Co. in 1888 ran its “Beach Car” from downtown Wilmington’s Front Street to what’s now Harbor Island, and tracks were extended across Banks Channel to the beach a year later, eating places emerged quickly to serve a mushrooming market.

Wrightsville Beach was incorporated 1899. By then, at least four hotels sat seaside. The circa 1892 Hinton’s Café, inside Ocean View Hotel, came first, Henson said. A September 1892 Wilmington Messenger article congratulated owners E.L. and J.H. Hinton, who Henson noted also ran accommodations in Wilmington and Carolina Beach, for “the unrivaled manner in which soft-shell crabs, deviled crabs, picked crabs, shrimps, pigfish, clam chowder, etc., has been served to the delegation of epicurean visitors to the seashore.”

Hotels were hotspots for guests and day visitors alike.

The Seashore Hotel prized itself for serving fresh seafood caught daily. After the Great Fire of 1934, the Seashore Hotel was renamed the Ocean Terrace Hotel. After more damage from Hurricane Hazel and another fire, it was replaced by the Blockade Runner in 1964. Photo: Wrightsville Beach Museum of History

Two hundred people attended the 1897 Seashore debut dinner featuring 32 selections including broiled summer trout with parsley sauce, pommes Parisienne, lemon pie and macaroons. An American history-themed 1916 Independence Day menu offered Plymouth rockfish with Lexington sauce, calf brains à la George IV and “revolutionary” crackers with young American cheese.

For $5, Hotel Tarrymore guests sampled “cuisine unsurpassed,” according to a 1905 advertisement. A humble-looking Tarrymore opened that year. By 1911, it grew grand peaks lit by long strings of electric lights. The kitchen served elegant French cuisine and local favorites like broiled Spanish mackerel, clam fritters, candied sweet potatoes and corn on the cob.

Running restaurant kitchens was not easy. Sans electric refrigeration, chefs required frequent train deliveries of ice and provisions. Cattle that supplied milk and meat grazed near the shore. A news report about one hotel fire mentioned yard chickens cooked by the blaze.

Sanitation was a challenge. The trolley line that opened in 1902 included a garbage car, Henson said. Flies, smelly ice boxes and water that tasted of decayed wood were among problems health inspectors found at one restaurant. On a 1919 night, a health inspector dining out was served spoiled fish and a fly floating in his iced tea.

Despite behind-the-scenes shockers, restaurants flourished and those in hotels inspired modern accommodations such as Blockade Runner. Built in 1964, the resort is about where the Seashore Hotel stood, Henson said. Blockade Runner’s early Ocean Terrace Room, which hosted dinner and dancing, served a 1965 Thanksgiving Day meal including a whole turkey “carved at your table, leftovers to take home,” for $2.95 per person.

The dining room’s Ocean Terrace name harked back to Seashore, which was renamed Ocean Terrace after it survived a 1934 fire. Fire hit again, destroying the renamed Ocean Terrace hotel in 1955.

Blockade Runner continues to honor its predecessor with its Ocean Terrace seafront rooms.

When authorities allowed cars on Wrightsville Beach in 1935, restaurant development surged and the quintessential fried seafood platter, so common today, made its lasting mark.

The Oceanic Hotel, built in 1905, was the most upscale hotel at Wrightsville Beach. It was the first stop at the beach for the trolley. The Oceanic had a restaurant with its own orchestra for the summer months. What you see in the photo is the hotel from the sound side with its romantic turret and spiral staircase. On the ocean side, there was an octagonal tea room right at the ocean’s edge. Photo: Wrightsville Beach Museum of History

The Neptune, now named King Neptune, on downtown Wrightsville Beach’s Lumina Avenue and, at age 67, regarded as New Hanover County’s oldest restaurant, featured seafood and steaks “cooked to a king’s taste.”

Marina Grill, opened in 1946 in abandoned World War II Marine Corps barracks on the Wrightsville Beach Causeway, won a seal of approval from restaurant reviewer Duncan Hines, then “the American authority on good eating” rather than the cake mix king. In 1947, a Marina “deluxe” two-course seafood dinner, with a choice of one entrée – shrimp Newburg, fried frog legs and shad roe with bacon among them – and fries, clam fritters and coleslaw on the side, cost $1.50.

“Oyster roasts,” places that served steamed and fried seafood in ultra-casual settings were popular too, as were guest houses where lodgers slept upstairs and dined downstairs. Even as far back as the late 1800s, women managed some of the largest and most popular establishments.

Here is one of the original boarding houses where people slept upstairs and dined downstairs. Photo: Wrightsville Beach Museum of History.

“It was one of the things a woman could do with a family if their husbands passed away,” said Madeline Flagler, Wrightsville Beach Museum’s executive director. “It was something you could do and do well and still have a real life.”

As beach life moved toward flip flops and ice-cold white wine, Wrightsville Beach restaurateurs went with the more casual flow.

The famous Lumina Pavilion (1905-1973) that early on staged formal ballroom dances hosted a grill and picnic tables. Nearby soda shops were favorite hangouts for teenagers.

Henson’s research and a lifetime of Wrightsville Beach memories uncovered a surprising number of food and drink places, including markets, “easily 100” over the century, she said.

Henson referenced residents and friends, old phone books, vintage post cards, newspaper reports and the collections of Wrightsville Beach Museum of History, the New Hanover County Public Library and historians Bill Creasy and Bill Reaves.

She and Flagler found no shortage of information – or interest.

“Different eating establishments are so much part of the culture here,” Flagler said. “You go to the beach, and you’re there all day, and somehow the food tastes better when you’re sunburned.”

This is part a monthly series about the food of the N.C. coast. Our Coast’s Food is about the culinary traditions and history of N.C. coast. The series covers the history of the region’s food, profiles the people who grow it and cook it, offers cooking tips — how hot should the oil be to fry fish? — and passes along some of our favorite recipes. Send along any ideas for stories you would like us to do or regional recipes you’d like to share. If there’s a story behind the recipe, we’d love to hear it.

MOREHEAD CITY — Morning, noon, night or snack, a day in the Old South hardly passed without at least one biscuit.

Today, North Carolinians sit down at New South tables where biscuits no longer land at every meal, but a warm biscuit, golden buttery around a soft center, shaped by a loving cook’s hand, remains a much-desired serving of tenderhearted Southern hospitality.

“It’s how we define supper in the South,” professional baker and native coastal North Carolinian Mindy Ballou Fitzpatrick said. “When you have biscuits at supper, it gets people to come to the table and to sit down, and it gets them into conversations.”

Fitzpatrick hails from a long line of cooks who inspired her to launch Mindy’s Baked Goods, part of The Friendly Market local food, art and plant emporium her and husband, Matt, operate in Morehead City.

Fitzpatrick’s grandfather, William “Bill” Ballou, was a charismatic charter boat captain who in 1941 converted a downtown Morehead City fish house into Capt. Bill’s Waterfront Restaurant, still in operation, under different owners, and still famous for its “Down East Lemon Pie.”

Biscuits were the purview of Fitzpatrick’s mother, Betty Ballou, whose recipes inspire much of the cooking at Mindy’s Baked Goods and The Friendly Market.

“They were part of everything I did growing up just about,” Fitzpatrick said of biscuits. “They define a lot of who we (Southerners) are.”

The word “biscuit” traces to Latin words “bis” (twice) and “coctus” (cooked). In Europe, the word usually refers to cookies. As American breads developed, the word biscuit took on a different meaning in the South.

Historians say the idea for biscuits came with early European settlers to the New World. Dishes that could be made with ground wheat, water and some sort of savory gravy were simple sustenance pilgrims lacking established kitchens needed.

Mindy Ballou Fitzpatrick says there’s nothing like biscuits to get people to the dinner table and into conversations. Photo: Liz Biro

Also, soft wheat grew best in the South. Low-protein flour made from soft wheat produces the tender crumb mandatory for perfect biscuits. Biscuit recipes often call for bleached, all-purpose flour, cold fats, cold liquids and light mixing, all instructions suggested to keep proteins from banding together. Those bound proteins create gluten strands that make French breads and pizza crusts deliciously chewy but cause tough biscuits.

Risen biscuits showed up as early as the late 1700s, when pearl ash from fires was used as a leavener, Southern food historian John Edgerton wrote in Southern Food: At Home, On the Road, In History (Alfred A. Knopf, 1987).

The American definition of “biscuit” was first noted in John Palmer’s 1818 Journal of Travels in the United States of North America, and in Lower Canada, according to The Food Timeline. By 1828, Webster defined biscuits as “a composition of flour and butter, made and baked in private families,” The Food Timeline reported.

Commercial baking soda and baking powder arrived in the mid-1800s, Edgerton found, but Southern cooks prepared more than risen biscuits. Beaten biscuits sans leavener appear true American creations connected with the mid-Atlantic and southern Appalachian regions.

“Long before soda and baking powder and yeast transformed the American biscuit into a soft and puffy bread, these queer, little, unleavened, hard biscuits had somehow found their way from parts unknown to the kitchens of the colonial South,” Edgerton wrote.

“Now just as mysteriously, beaten biscuits have all but disappeared.”

Edgerton noted their demise might have been due to the considerable time cooks spent beating or kneading air into the dough to make those biscuits light and fluffy. One old recipe calls for beating the biscuits at least 100 times, unless company was coming. Then, the biscuits would have been beaten many more times to ensure guests dined on the very best.

A dough-kneading machine patented in 1877 in New Jersey saved beaten biscuits from extinction, and they remained popular, especially for the upper South’s ham biscuits, which still show up in Virginia and North Carolina, Edgerton found.

For the most part, whether biscuits are beaten or risen, biscuit-making has almost become a lost art that many restaurant and home cooks seem happy to leave to processed food companies supplying frozen biscuits or pre-blended biscuit mix — just add liquid and stir.

The Friendly Market in Morehead City features Mindy Fitzpatrick’s baked goods. Photo: Liz Biro.

Conduct a side-by-side tasting of a from-scratch biscuit and a prefabricated one, and you’ll likely find that favorite, supposedly “homemade” fast food sausage biscuit is lacking.

“To me, the perfect biscuit is very, very light, fluffy, not too tall,” Fitzpatrick said. “I like when you open a biscuit and it has the little crevices where you can spread butter, and it kind of goes down and becomes part of the biscuit.”

Biscuits are not difficult to prepare. They’re worth the effort, especially in spring when North Carolina’s fresh berry season begins with strawberries and moves into blackberries and blueberries, perfect for classic shortcake. As summer arrives, fresh peaches replace berries.

No matter if biscuits are savory to serve alongside fried chicken or a little sweet to layer with fresh fruit and whipped cream for shortcake, the recipe is simple.

An easy biscuit formula starts with 2 cups of self-rising, unbleached, all-purpose flour and ¼ to ½ cup of lard or butter. Blend about 1 to 2 tablespoons of sugar into the flour if you’re making a sweet biscuit for shortbread.

Using a pastry cutter, cut the fat into the flour until the mixture resembles cornmeal. Lightly stir in about a cup of cold milk or buttermilk.

Flour a board and gently roll out the dough, using an ultra-light touch so as not incorporate much more flour. Maintain a light dusting and touch to prevent sticky dough. As an alternate to rolling, flour your hands, pick up pieces of the dough and form them into disks about ¾-inch thick.

Either way, always handle gently. Overworking the dough leads to hard biscuits. If the dough seems too sticky, and you don’t want to risk rolling or handling, make what are called “drop biscuits,” which Fitzpatrick said was her mother’s preference for shortcake. Drop heaping tablespoonfuls of dough onto a pan.

Bake biscuits in a hot oven, 400 to 450 degrees, for 10-15 minutes.

Biscuit recipes are usually not exact. Humidity, the type of baking pan used (sheet or cast-iron skillet), the fat chosen, whether cooks prefer milk, buttermilk or high-fat cream and the brand of flour selected all affect the process and results. Those are not reasons to be intimated but rather to test what works best for individual cooks’ tastes, Fitzpatrick said.

“The first thing to do is not worry about the outcome,” she said.

“To me that the best part of being in the kitchen is falling into recipes you never expected and just discovering,” Fitzpatrick added. “Biscuits are fun.”

If biscuits come out hard or ugly, no worries. Put them on a plate and smother them with sausage gravy, a fSouthern specialty loved at breakfast and fine for dinner.

“The one thing about biscuits is they’re good at every meal,” Fitzpatrick said. “Everybody will come and eat biscuits.”