Gravy

In “Apalachicola Oysters and the Battle for a Florida Bay,” Gravy producer Betsy Wallace takes listeners to Franklin County, Florida to find out if a new tourist development could be the biggest threat to a decades-long, $30 million investment in the Apalachicola Bay Oyster Fishery Restoration. Franklin County is tucked into Florida’s Forgotten Coast, a stretch of the panhandle known for white sand beaches, off-shore fishing, and the iconic Apalachicola Bay oyster. It is distinctly Old Florida; there are family-owned seafood restaurants next to mom-and-pop bait shops. You won’t see a high-rise hotel until the next county over. When the black bears get hot in the sticky heat of July, they lumber across Highway 98 to swim with the jellyfish in the salty Gulf Coast water. This area is home to one of the few remaining working shorelines in North Florida. For about a hundred years, up until a devastating fishery crash in 2013, the oyster industry powered Franklin County’s economy. At its peak in 2012, the industry brought in over $9 million and employed about 2,500 locals in the small Florida panhandle towns of Eastpoint, Apalachicola, Carrabelle, and Panacea. In 2013 the oyster industry crashed and took the local economy down with it. Now, more than a decade later, join Wallace as she digs into the restoration of the Apalachicola Bay oyster reefs and a newly proposed (and highly divisive) large-scale tourist resort. Will the Forgotten Coast stay forgotten long enough for the seafood industry to recover and provide stable, well-paying jobs for the next generation? Or will tourism and real estate development finally take over, as it has up and down the Florida coast? In this episode, Wallace talks to Josh Norman, who grew up in an oystering family and is a marine biologist turned VP of the locally owned Bayside Coffee; Charles Pennycutt, owner of Fisherman’s Choice Bait and Tackle; Paddy’s Raw Bar restaurateur Patrick Sparks; Florida State University scientist Dr. Sandra Brooke; and oyster farmer Xochitl Bevera. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

When we think of the industrialization of America and the rise of electricity, we’re printed to think about people in cities and factories, where machines and assembly lines abound. We think of Charlie Chaplin tangled up in conveyor belts and cogs in the movie Modern Times. We think of electric motors, coal mining, steam engines. But electricity transformed another area almost as much as it transformed the city or the factory… and that area is the house. And because of that there’s one really key demographic that’s impacted by electricity perhaps more than any other: women. Electrification prompted a redefinition of house work and those who did it, according to scholar Rachele Dini. She wrote a book called “All-Electric Narratives,” which focuses on how advertising and literature represent electricity and electric appliances in the home.  Rachele says that the change in expectations for women and housework can be charted through advertisements: for instance, General Electric sponsored “Gold Medallion” campaigns in women’s magazines that recognized homes with all-electric “automated” kitchens. These adverts always showed sparkling clean kitchens and promised less labor for the housewife… but, the truth is, in actuality, more women were doing more labor on average. This is because there were fewer adults in each household to share responsibilities as nuclear families became the norm: husbands were now generally expected to go to work to support the household through their wages and women were generally expected to shop, cook, clean, and manage the household. What had once been the work of multiple adults, perhaps including extended family members or hired cooks or maids, now, in most middle- and working-class nuclear families, became the job of one woman: the so-called housewife. In fact, a whole new discipline emerged during the period of industrialization: Home Economics. You’re probably most familiar with it as a middle school elective class where you learn how to care for an egg as a practice in parenting. But in the twentieth century, home economics was a serious science.  “No one really appreciates what a degree in home economics is, until you look at a college notebook,” says Hal Wallace. They did “laboratory experiments on how foods for example, caramelize, when they're heated, or how the proteins might rearrange in an egg as it's been heated…. There is a lot of science involved, real science involved with this.” At that time, home economists were concerned not just with how to teach others to cook, clean, and care for a household, but also with how to teach them to be smart consumers of new electric technologies, like electric stoves, toasters, and coffee-makers.  The U.S. government hired home economists to promote the formation of rural electrification when they kicked off the “Rural Electric Circus.” They toured shows in rural communities across the South and Midwest where they taught audiences how to skillfully place lightbulbs, or launder shirts in a new dryer, or cook scrambled eggs on an electric stove. The shows were both educational and promotional: teaching new technologies and encouraging these residents to form electrical cooperatives to access them.  Katie Jane Fernelius reported and produced this episode. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

In “Bala’s Bistro: Where Mali Meets Memphis,” Gravy producers Marie Cascione and Joshua Carlucci profile Malian chefs, cousins, and business partners Bala Tounkara and Mady Magassa. Their story takes us from West Africa to the casinos of Tunica, Mississippi, and finally to South Memphis, where their restaurant, Bala’s Bistro, has become an emblem of success and belonging for African immigrants in the South.   Today, 21% of Black Americans are either immigrants themselves or children of immigrants. The vast majority of Black immigrants in America live in the South, and Tennessee is one of the fastest growing states for this community.   Bala and Mady both immigrated to Memphis by way of New York City in the early 2000s. Looking for some semblance of community, they landed in Whitehaven, a Black neighborhood that, at the time, had only a small enclave of West Africans. They started cooking in restaurants with no initial plans beyond making money to make ends meet. Over the years spent around fire and knives, Bala and Mady decided to dive into a business venture of their own: making food from home, as they saw it. They opened Bala’s Bistro in 2019 to answer the question: Where’s all the African food in Memphis?   Though Bala and Mady are from Mali, they make and serve food from all over West Africa. Fufu, egusi, maafe, and saka saga—just to name a few—all make star-studded appearances in the glass display case from which Bala’s customers can pick and choose to make their plates. The case looks like a buffet for a reason: Bala and Mady want you to ask about the food.   Bala used to be self-conscious of what he ate back home, but today he embraces it and encourages others to give it a shot. When Memphians wonder about some of the soupy, bubbling concoctions, he explains and gives them samples. He’s big on education; he wants curious eaters to satisfy their wonder, but even more, he wants Memphis to know that the soul food they know and love, and the rich and spicy cuisine of West Africa, were cut from the same cloth.   In this episode, Cascione and Carlucci talk to Bala Tounkara and Mady Magassa all about their journey to Memphis and the story of their restaurants. Gravy listeners will also hear from guests, some who come to Bala’s for a taste of something new and leave with a sense of community. Having just opened a second restaurant—Mande Dibi—Bala and Mady double down on the idea they hatched long ago. The pair place their bets on African food finding a widely-adored home, just as they did, in Memphis. At the same time, their restaurants have become a place of refuge and community for all who come to eat at their table, whether from Memphis, Mali, or all that in between. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

In “Minnie Bell’s Feeds the Fillmore’s Soul,” Gravy producer Sarah Jessee takes listeners to the spring 2024 opening of Minnie Bell’s Soul Movement in San Francisco’s Fillmore District, where chef Fernay McPherson—and her food—have come home.   McPherson’s family came to the Fillmore from Texas in the 1960s, as part of the Second Great Migration that brought African Americans from the South to cities across the U.S. When those families migrated, their recipes did, too.   McPherson learned to cook from her great aunt and grandmother Minnie and Lillie Bell, the restaurant’s namesakes. In 2011, she joined La Cocina, a culinary incubator for women who want to open their own restaurants. Since then, fans of McPherson’s signature rosemary fried chicken and macaroni and cheese have followed her from her first food truck in 2013, to her pop-up in an East Bay food court, and now, to her new brick-and-mortar restaurant in the neighborhood she’s always called home.   Between 1935 and 1945, the Black population in San Francisco grew by 600%. The growth continued until urban renewal brought it to a halt, just as McPherson’s family was settling into the area. Beginning in the 1960s, the San Francisco Planning and Housing Association bulldozed entire sections of the Fillmore, taking parts of the neighborhood’s vibrant, close-knit community along with it.   In this episode, Jessee speaks to McPherson all about her culinary journey, family history, and how she learned to cook in a way that honors her roots. She also interviews Fernay’s father, Darnay McPherson, who tells how the Fillmore has changed over time, and how its Black culture has been erased. We also hear how friends and fans are welcoming her back home. With Minnie Bell’s return to the neighborhood, McPherson wants to see—finally—a long-promised renaissance in the Fillmore. And it’s already in motion: as of July 2024, Minnie Bell’s was added to the San Francisco Chronicle’s “Best of SF” list. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

In “Reel It In: Building Local Markets for Fresh Fish" Gravy producer Irina Zhorov looks for fresh fish in shops along the Gulf of Mexico, where it should be plentiful but can be surprisingly difficult to find. Between 80 to 90% of seafood in the U.S. is imported, despite the country’s generous coasts and well-managed fisheries. Even in seaside communities where the promise of a fresh catch draws tourists to eat out, many restaurants serve thawed imports.  In Fairhope, Alabama, Fairhope Fish House wanted something different. Owners Dustin Bedgood and Jake Pose go out for short fishing trips—usually just 24 hours—and fish primarily using rod and reel. They’re only open when they have a fresh catch to sell, and they let people know about their hours through an email listserv. They handle the fish with care, practicing ikejime, a Japanese method of instantly killing and draining blood from the animal. That extends the shelf life of the fish and gives it a cleaner taste.  Despite their various measures to deliver a fresher, more sustainable, and tastier product to customers, the flesh is nothing without the story they tell about it.  In addition to Fairhope Fish House, Zhorov talks to Chef David Ramey, of Red or White in Fairhope, about why he pays a premium for the House’s fish and why his customers appreciate it. Journalist Paul Greenberg explains that eating from one’s local waters used to be the norm, but now requires focused effort and knowledge. Local fish is not as available in stores and it can be difficult to figure out where seafood is coming from in the globalized market. Local Catch Network founder Joshua Stoll and researcher Sahir Advani provide context about other shops that are choosing to focus on local markets. Some 12% of fishers market directly to consumers in one way or another—more than producers in agriculture—and it’s a model they say creates sustainable, community-focused economies. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

If you know and love the Vidalia onion—an onion sweet enough, its fans say, to eat like an apple—you likely also know it as a product of Georgia, as proudly claimed as the peach. But the story of the Vidalia’s popularity is far more complex than just one of a local onion made good. In this episode of Gravy: an onion’s success story, born of clever marketing, government wrangling, technological innovation and global trade. This episode was co-produced by Tyler Pratt. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

If you're looking for a taste of something new (and Southern) in your podcast playlist, then you should really check out Sea Change, produced by our friends over at WWNO New Orleans Public Radio and distributed by PRX. Nominated for “Best Green” Podcast at the 2024 iHeart Podcast Awards, Sea Change brings you stories that illuminate, inspire, and sometimes enrage, but above all, remind us why we must work together to solve the issues facing our warming world… and across our region. We are thrilled to share a special episode of Sea Change that explores how the Vietnamese community is reimagining their relationship with water as Louisiana’s coastline changes. In this episode, hosts Carlyle Calhoun and Halle Parker explore nước, the Vietnamese word for water and homeland, and how nước is linked to the homeland. Traveling to a shrimp dock, a tropical garden, and a neighborhood surrounded by canals, they examine one central question: What does it mean to live with water in a place where everything about water is changing? We think you’re going to really like this episode, so make sure to follow Sea Change on your favorite podcast app.   Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

In “Flambéed! The Art & Theater of Banana’s Foster” Gravy producer Eve Troeh takes listeners to Brennan’s, the iconic restaurant in New Orleans’ French Quarter, where skilled servers pull off one sensational culinary feat, table after table and day after day—Bananas Foster, flambéed tableside. Brennan’s opened its doors more than seventy years ago, and its early years coincided with a hot trend in fine dining at the time: tableside dishes. Many know this practice, when a server wheels over a small cart to your table and makes a dish right in front of you. One of the iconic recipes in this pantheon of the tableside tradition is Bananas Foster, a rum-laden flambéed dessert that was invented at Brennan’s in 1951. Today, the dish appears on menus worldwide, and Brennan’s serves the original day and night, dazzling diners with a fiery display. The ritual of tableside dining, once a hallmark of fine establishments, finds its roots in European opulence, where elaborate presentations conveyed status and sophistication. While the tradition waned in the 1960s and 70s, Brennan's steadfastly preserves it, offering not only Bananas Foster but a repertoire of tableside classics, each dish a testament to culinary craftsmanship. So what is it like to produce this “show” of Bananas Foster, day in and day out? For the staff at Brennan's, mastering the art of tableside service is a rite of passage. It takes a special kind of server to pull it off, as well as intensive training, special equipment, and a careful attention to safety as the dessert’s rum and liqueur sauce is lit. For Gravy, Troeh visits the Big Easy to speak with Christian Pendleton, general manager at Brennan’s, and Chalaine Celestain, a Brennan’s captain (or leading server) for whom tableside preparations are one part of a complex repertoire. From controlling the flames to engaging guests in the experience, she embodies the spirit of hospitality that defines Brennan's. Maureen Costura, professor of liberal arts and food studies at the Culinary Institute of America, offers historical context. Despite the occasional mishap, the allure of tableside dining endures, offering patrons a glimpse into a bygone era of elegance and charm. For Christian and his team, it's not just about serving a meal; it's about creating memories and fostering connections with each guest. In an ever-changing culinary landscape, Brennan's remains a bastion of tradition, where the art of tableside dining continues to captivate and delight. As long as there are flames to ignite and stories to tell, Bananas Foster will remain a cherished tradition, ensuring that the legacy of Brennan's lives on for generations to come. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

In 2017, San Antonio, Texas, was officially designated a UNESCO Creative City of Gastronomy. One of only two American cities to receive this distinction, its culinary history spans centuries. It claims a dining scene flush with James Beard nominated chefs, old-world German delicatessens, and farm-to-table restaurants that source game and beef from area ranches. Yet, for most, San Antonio is inextricably bound with the flavors of Texas-Mexican cooking. Few establishments can boast the fame and staying power of Mi Tierra. Founded over 80 years ago, it’s regularly listed in guidebooks and welcomes over 1 million patrons annually. For locals, it’s long provided an intersection for celebration and politics and a spiritual mooring for its surrounding neighborhood, Market Square. In this episode, “How Mi Tierra Shaped Modern San Antonio,” join Gravy producer Evan Stern on a visit to this famed institution. Sit down to breakfast with San Antonio native and esteemed culinary historian Dr. Ellen Riojas Clark. Born in 1941, the same year Mi Tierra was founded, Clark believes the restaurant’s food and design physically represent the Mexican-American experience in San Antonio. A conversation with Christine Ortega, VP of the Texas Indigenous Food Project, will touch on some of those aspects. Her heritage in Central Texas spans generations, and she explains how Market Square’s famed Chili Queens helped popularize Texas-Mexican cooking. She also describes the transitions the neighborhood has experienced over its roughly 125 years of existence. As Mi Tierra has remained a constant on Market Square, third-generation owner Pete Cortez provides a personal account of the restaurant’s history. He shares how his grandfather, an immigrant from Guadalajara, grew Mi Tierra from a three-table café into a storied institution. He also advocated for the Market’s redevelopment when it and his business were threatened with demolition. Mi Tierra not only reflects the culture of the community it serves but also shapes and maintains that culture. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

Ed Mitchell’s name has come to be synonymous with Eastern North Carolina wood-smoked whole-hog barbecue. From Wilson, North Carolina, he grew up smoking hogs and has tried to continue that tradition, using old techniques and traditionally farm-raised pigs.  But almost since the start, Ed Mitchell’s barbeque journey has not been a straight line—business relationships, racism, and smoke have all shaped his rollercoaster ride. Reporter Wilson Sayre is our guide in looking at those twists and turns. We thank Danyell Irby for editing, Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

In “Wherefore art thou, ROMEO? At Jack’s!" Gravy producer Irina Zhorov takes listeners to a busy fast food restaurant in Jasper, Alabama, to sit at a round table with a group of friends who meet there daily. The group, who call themselves ROMEO—Retired Old Men Eating Out—are a fixture at this restaurant. Over coffee and biscuits they share stories, reminisce, discuss the day's news and, when it's necessary, offer up prayers for each other. They gather to fellowship, to joke, to relieve loneliness. Other groups like them meet at similar locations around the county. Fast food restaurants have long been demonized for both the lack of nutrition in the food they tend to serve, as well as their potential to replace locally owned community spots. But at this Jack's, the ROMEOs have adapted the place to their needs, transforming a corporate space into a community one, where they are able to socialize on their own terms, bring in their own food, and build relationships with the staff. More than a third of older Americans are socially isolated, which leads to poor health outcomes, including increased risk of dementia, depression, and heart disease. In many places, particularly rural areas, so-called "third spaces," where people can meet outside of the home or work with friends and strangers alike, can be hard to find. Some researchers see fast food restaurants—with their affordable meals, accessible seating and restrooms, and ubiquity—as one potential outlet for older adults to meet their social needs.   In this episode, Zhorov talks to the ROMEOs, including John Miller, a retired health inspector, and Dorman Grace, a farmer. Jessica Finlay, assistant professor at the University of Colorado Boulder, in the Department of Geography and the Institute of Behavioral Science, researches how older adults use fast food restaurants and talks about why they're appealing as meeting spaces. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

In “How Pineywoods Cattle Bucks Big Beef,” Gravy producer Stephanie Burt takes listeners out to the rolling pastures of the South to meet Pineywoods cattle, a breed that’s been grazing in the Southern region of the United States since the 1500s. The cow that some see as old fashioned is being considered in new ways when it comes to farming in the twenty-first century. Beef is big business in the U.S. In 2022, the country’s beef consumption was the highest it's been since 2010, and the industry prizes big cows for efficient processing and big bottom lines. And this is despite the rise in what overall is termed “plant-based meat alternatives,” a response to the argument that raising cattle the way most American ranchers do, with mass production methods that don’t take into account the health of the land, is a contributor to climate change. But not all cows are built the same, and one rare breed is gaining attention for its adaptability to the Southern environment. Pineywoods is well suited to the growing use of regenerative farming methods that are aiming to address beef-raising climate questions. It can positively impact a farm’s ecosystem instead of harming it. Plus, it has an ability to withstand hot summers. And it tastes delicious.  In this episode, Burt talks to D. Phillip Sponenberg, professor of Pathology and Genetics in the Virginia-Maryland College of Veterinary Medicine at Virginia Tech, to find out what makes Pineywoods perfectly suited to the American South. She also introduces listeners to three cattle ranchers experienced with the breed: Cristiaan Steenkamp of BDA Farms in Uniontown, Alabama; Will Harris of White Oak Pastures in Bluffton, Georgia; and Mike Hansen of Ozark Akerz, a small farm in Coleridge, North Carolina. Together, they explain how Pineywoods contributes to the larger ecosystem of the South and how industry norms present barriers to its growth. Finally, chef Scott Peacock of Marion, Alabama, describes the distinctive flavor of Pineywoods beef on the plate. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

In “Unshelled: George Washington Carver's Real Legacy," producers Ishan Thakore and Katie Jane Fernelius explore a lesser-known aspect of Dr. George Washington Carver’s legacy: his role as a conservationist and a practitioner of sustainable agriculture. Carver’s life defies easy explanation. He was born enslaved and rose to the heights of American academia. Long a painter before he became a botanist, Carver’s art was even accepted into the 1893 World’s Fair in Chicago. After his death, evangelicals, the LGBTQ community, and the NAACP all heralded him as a pioneer. The military even named a ship after him during World War II. But today, most listeners might only vaguely recall him as “the peanut guy,” who makes a recurring, albeit one-dimensional appearance during Black History Month. Mark Hersey, an environmental historian and author of My Work is that of Conservation: An Environmental Biography of George Washington Carver, argues that most people have considered Carver in the wrong light for years. Carver advocated for seeing connections between animals and the land, and articulated tenets of organic and sustainable agriculture well before they entered the mainstream. Carver’s deep Christian convictions informed his conservationist thinking. He saw the world as something to be revered, studied, and protected from degradation. And ultimately, he thought his life’s work was to uplift the lot of Black farmers in the South. But, it was his peanut work which ultimately catapulted him to fame. For years, Carver worked at Tuskegee Institute (now University), under the direction of Booker T. Washington. At Tuskegee, Carver headed up an experimental agriculture station, where he wrote research bulletins and brought demonstrations to the countryside to help impoverished Black sharecroppers and tenant farmers in Macon County, Alabama. In an effort to find a low-cost, high-calorie plant which could be grown for food by sharecroppers, Carver began to promote peanuts. He collated recipes and uses, and enthusiastically espoused the hardy legume. And in Carver, the peanut lobby found a perfect spokesperson to testify in front of the House Ways and Means Committee in 1921, to push for a protective tariff. Carver’s role as an expert witness brought fame and stardom, but distorted his impact for generations. Hersey argues that Carver’s other work, as a conservationist, should be at the forefront of his legacy. In examining Carver’s legacy today in practice, farmers like Nick Speed are reacquainting people with Carver’s relationship with the land. Speed runs the nonprofit Ujima and its related entity, the George Washington Carver Farms in St. Louis, Missouri. GWC Farms aims to honor Carver’s legacy as a farmer who thought holistically about the land he tended. In understanding Carver as a pioneering Black conservationist, listeners might finally be able to move beyond Carver and the peanut. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

In "Yock Is for Lovers: Chinese Soul Food in Tidewater Virginia," Gravy producer Nicole Hutcheson delves into the history of Yock-a-Mein, tracing its origins to the Tidewater region of Virginia and delving into its significant role in shaping the distinctive culinary tradition known as Chinese soul food. Originally created by a novice noodle maker and budding entrepreneur, Yock-a-Mein has evolved into an unofficial regional delicacy, gracing the tables of baby showers, rent parties, office potlucks, and funeral repasses. Rooted in humble ingredients born of necessity, it carries a legacy of resilience often overlooked in the world of gastronomy. Yock has not only sustained communities for generations, but also served as a unifying force among them. While the narrative of Southern cuisine commonly reflects on the nation’s colonial past and the fusion of enslaved Africans, Native Americans, and Europeans, there exists another narrative—the convergence of urban and immigrant communities in the early 20th century, forging new culinary traditions in the South.  Today, with many original establishments serving Yock and other Chinese soul food specialties now facing closure, the rich history of these dishes is in question.  In this episode of Gravy, Hutcheson speaks with Frank Duenas, owner of Mama Chan’s Chinese Takeout in Portsmouth, Virginia, now in its third decade of business. She meets Jenny Wong, whose father Park F. Wong once owned the Norfolk Noodle Factory in Norfolk and created Yock-a-Mein noodles, as well as Greg Shia, who purchased the factory in 2003 and operates it today. Finally, Andreka Gibson—known locally as the “Yock Queen”—describes her journey from Yock pop-up to flourishing, Instagram-worthy business, charting the future of this regional tradition. For Hutcheson and her audience, recognizing the history and origins of this dish stands as a testament to its enduring presence. By spotlighting those who continue the tradition, the hope is to preserve its legacy for generations to come. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

Have you ever been to a wedding and wondered how hundreds of plates of food arrive at the right destinations at the right time? Often without an on-site kitchen. This is high-concept cooking, done without a net. Cookbook authors Matt Lee and Ted Lee spent four years immersed in the catering industry and wrote a book about their experiences and revelations called Hotbox. In this episode, we step behind the scenes with the Lee Brothers as our guides. Sara Brooke Curtis is an award-winning radio producer. Her work has aired on The Splendid Table, KCRW’s UnFictional, KCRW’s Good Food, CBC’s Love Me, and BBC’s Short Cuts, among others. She lives in western Massachusetts and loves recording sounds of everyday life and producing sonic worlds for listeners to surrender to and delight in. Special thanks to Steven Satterfield, Virginia Willis, Matt Bolus, Shuai and Corey Wang, Cheetie Kumar, Vishwesh Bhatt, and Eddie Hernandez for their delicious food and interviews. Hotbox: Inside Catering, the Food World's Riskiest Business, published by MacMillan, may be purchased from your favorite local bookstore. Gravy is proud to be a part of the APT Podcast Studios. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices