Welcome to this week’s CulinaryWoman Newsletter! And a big thank you for making last week’s newsletter our best-read thus far. It’s purely by accident that we return to Iowa for our feature story this week. I happen to love Iowa and when we’re able to travel again, it’s high on my list for another visit. Let’s set off.
Providing Comfort And Support Through Pie
When author, blogger and baker Beth Howard saw the first news reports about the unrest in Minneapolis that followed the death of George Floyd, she knew she had to be there, and that she had to bake pie.
There was only one problem: she hadn’t left the house in two months because of the COVID pandemic.
“I was scared, yes, and I didn’t tell my mother I was going,” Beth says. “I decided it was more important to take a stand. I’m not going to just sit there. If I can make some pies, fine.”
Thanks to her vast pie baking network, she wound up using the Pie and Mighty Pie Shop as her base, realizing when she arrived that it was two blocks from where George Floyd was killed.
Moreover, her arrival followed a phase of looting and tagging on nearby buildings. Debris was strewn on streets and sidewalks - but not for long.
“What we saw was kindness,” she says. “People were carrying brooms and buckets.” And to her relief, they diligently wore masks.
Within two hours, Beth had given away the 600 slices from the 80 pies that she and her helpers had baked. “They just blew through that pie,” Beth says of the demonstrators and onlookers, attracted by her “Free Pie” sign. You can read the moving story of her experience on her blog.
While the comments afterward on The World Needs More Pie page were overwhelmingly supportive, several posters questioned whether a white woman should be playing a role in feeding the Black Lives Matter marchers. “It’s not about me being white, it’s about me wanting to do something for the world,” Beth says.
Bringing Pie To Newtown
Her trip to Minneapolis brought back memories of her first experience with supportive baking.
In 2012, she was horrified to hear of the shootings at Sandy Hook Elementary School in Newtown, CT. “I wanted to help people with their grief. It was so spontaneous.”
On Facebook, she wrote that if it would bring comfort to bake pie for Newtown residents, she would load up her RV and start driving. Soon, a classmate offered to help her drive. Others donated money for gas and supplies.
A friend in New Jersey opened her home while 60 other bakers volunteered their time. A manager at Sam’s Club met her RV with a cart filled with sugar, flour and butter.
When they were finished, Beth had 250 pies, in pie boxes, loaded into the RV for the trip to Newtown. At a recreation center, and later at a Sandy Hook memorial, she handed out slices and entire pies to the grief stricken towns people.
“They were so happy we came. They were so moved. It was pie. It’s a symbol of love.”
Beth says that was one of the few times in her life that she felt her physical form had been taken over for a higher purpose.
But, Beth says you needn’t wait for tragedy or drive hundreds of miles to be helpful. COVID has created many opportunities to lend others a hand.
“Maybe you cut somebody’s grass for them, or do a grocery run, or make masks. Be nice, be generous and we all can be a little more open and less fearful.”
The Joy Of Teaching Others
I’ll be honest: I have a fear of making pie. I actually cried when I took a pie class at Zingerman’s Bakehouse a few years ago. My hands don’t seem to have the touch for rolling out dough, and I constantly stretch it too much and wind up with holes.
Beth says I’m not alone. For four years, she rented the American Gothic House in Eldon, Iowa, made famous in the Grant Wood painting, and she taught pie classes.
Some people were making their first pie, and ran into the same problems I did. But Beth says she also loved seeing social media photos from people expressing pride in the pies they baked with her.
“They’re so excited that they accomplished something, and they can’t wait to take it home and share it,” she says.
That experience brought her a ton of media attention, and she wrote a cookbook, Ms. American Pie, Buttery Good Pie Recipes And Bold Tales From The American Gothic House.
Beth says she could have sold many more pies at the Pitchfork Pie Shop (pitchfork, get it?), and got offers to sell frozen pies with her name on them.
But after spending the first part of her life in the corporate world, most recently in Silicon Valley, she found that the commercial side of pie did not interest her. “I would rather teach pie than have my own brand of pie,” Beth says.
For now, her focus is on finally writing a book about another unique experience. In 2015, she left the American Gothic House and traveled the world, making pies as part of her World Piece campaign.
The trip took her to Australia, New Zealand, Thailand, India, Lebanon, Greece and Germany. She learned that while pie was embraced by some cultures, it was all but unknown to others.
COVID-19 has allowed her to sit in one place (except for the trip to Minneapolis) and finally sum up the journey, which was the topic of a short film.
It’s a contrast to the busy times of the past, but Beth says, “I have to be okay with being, rather than striving or being known or expecting some great new opportunities.”
In the meantime, you can enjoy her books and follow her on Facebook and on her blog.
CulinaryWoman Of The Week
I’m a member of Les Dames d’Escoffier, the organization for women in the culinary world. In 2016, a group of American dames made a trip to London, where they met up with the London chapter for a phenomenal food tour.
I was in London for some other events and happily was able to join the dames for their Sunday activities.
We went to Divertimenti, a fantastic cookery shop that specializes in interesting equipment and classes, where we heard a talk by Bee Wilson, who is one of England’s most respected food writers.
Bee is the writer that I wish I could be. She specializes in overviews of the food world, spotting trends, illustrating cultural shifts, and telling us how our attitudes toward food are evolving.
She’s won numerous awards, such as the BBC Radio’s food writer of the year, and is a three-time winner as the Guild of Food Writers food journalist of the year. She’s also a simply lovely person who you can follow @kitchenbee on Twitter.
I highly recommend two of Bee’s most recent books — First Bite: How We Learn To Eat and The Way We Eat Now: How The Food Revolution Has Transformed Our Lives, Our Bodies and Our World.
I was particularly taken by an essay in The Way We Eat Now in which Bee explained how quickly food trends have become globalized, from bubble tea and quinoa, to meal kits and plant-based meat, and how delivery apps have sped up our access to all manner of food.
In some cases, we’re healthier, but in others, we are awash in junk food. The pandemic has only made things more confusing, as people try to stay healthy but crave comfort, as we mentioned up above.
Bee’s writing avoids the drama that permeates so much modern food journalism, and explains food trends in a well-researched and thoughtful way. I look forward to everything she writes. I’m delighted to name her as our CulinaryWoman of the Week.
Leah Chase Lives On In Her Cookbook
The Dooky Chase Cookbook
Leah Chase
This past week, I was missing New Orleans, and I decided to browse the Coutelier website. It has two beautiful stores in New Orleans and Nashville, where it specializes in knives and other fascinating kitchen accessories. (You’ll hear more about them in a future newsletter).
In the book section, I was delighted to see The Dooky Chase Cookbook, by the legendary New Orleans chef Leah Chase. Mrs. Chase died in June, 2019, and if it hadn’t been for the COVID-19 epidemic, I’m sure her death anniversary would have been marked with a little more fanfare.
My copy of her cookbook is pretty beat up, which tells you how much I’ve used it. The cookbook has all the classic New Orleans recipes — red beans and rice, which I first ate at Dooky Chase’s, fried chicken, Creole Jambalaya and peach cobbler — as well as the story of how her restaurant came about.
I was lucky enough to meet her, and her joyful voice was so distinctive that I hear it on every page.
I’ve been thinking about Mrs. Chase a lot in the wake of John Lewis’ passing. Dooky Chase’s was a centerpiece for the civil rights movement, and organizers held meetings upstairs. She fed everybody from Martin Luther King Jr. to Barack Obama, who she admonished for attempting to put hot sauce in his gumbo.
I thought the cookbook might be out of print, but Coutelier has some in stock and would be glad to send you one (and you might want to pick out some other things, too). The Dooky Chase Cookbook may be vintage, but it belongs in your modern kitchen, especially if you love New Orleans.
What I’m Up To
A summer kick from fizzy coffee. Some people love iced lattes, others are into blended drinks. My favorite hot weather beverage is fizzy coffee, a mix of espresso and sparkling water (the fizzier, the better). You can read how I make it in my story for The Takeout and the next time you’re looking for something cool, give it a try.
A restaurant reboot. A few years ago, Ann Arbor watched with interest as The Standard Bistro and Larder took shape. It was the dream French restaurant for Alex Young, a James Beard Award winner who previously cooked at Zingerman’s Roadhouse. But Young left a year in, and the Standard recently closed. However, it is living on as a pop up called Lala’s, run by chef Allie Lyttle, with a changeable menu and lots of socially distant space. I wrote about the transition for the Ann Arbor Observer.
Send me feedback and ideas!
Are there some culinary people you’d like me to talk with, or are you spotting trends I should know about? I’d love to hear directly from you. Email me at mamayn@aol.com.
Follow CulinaryWoman on Twitter @culinarywoman. I’m also @michelinemaynard on Instagram. If you let me know you’re a newsletter subscriber, I’ll be happy to follow you back. Thanks to those who have!
Feel free to share this newsletter. Stay healthy, wear a mask, and see you next Sunday.