Once I had settled into the dorms, it became apparent that I was sharing a single kitchen with 12 other hungry and active students.
Luckily, nine of them appeared not to use the kitchen to store, cook or eat food, preferring instead to support the local takeaways and university dining facilities. I quickly bonded with a roommate who I shall hereby refer to as "Southern Princess."
Unlike our other housemates, Southern Princess did like to cook, and was truly horrified to learn that I had never eaten, or even heard of, the culinary wonder that is cornbread. Follow-up questions further exposed my ignorance. No, I did not even know what cornmeal was, I never have boiled bacon in with my greens and I had never heard of nor envisaged a "fried pie."
The way her southern vowels lounged over the words "friiiiedpiiie" sent my male roommate — a laid-back New Zealander we shall refer to as "Banana Slug" — into a state of arousal. Ironic when you consider that any girl who eats fried pies on a regular basis is sure to be 300 pounds by the time she is 30. Anyway, it was agreed that I would be educated the following Saturday, in a celebration of all things "soul food."
The final menu consisted of: cornbread (of course), mac and cheese, collard greens boiled with bacon, fried chicken and mashed potatoes — oh, and mojitos, to lend a party atmosphere. Preparing the food was great fun, and it all smelled delicious. Nearly everything was ready — we just had to wait for Banana Slug to return with the two vital ingredients: rum for the mojitos and fried chicken from a store down the road.
We waited … and waited … and waited … I had never tasted cornbread, but by now, the smell was driving me crazy, and the limes and sugar syrup were just begging for a splash of rum to get the party started. I knew Banana Slug was relaxed — a virtue of living in both New Zealand and Santa Cruz, Calif. — but this was ridiculous. I had resorted to stealing scraps of mashed potato from the table.
Eventually, Banana Slug returned with stories of chicken shop queues that would put Soviet Russia in a food shortage to shame. Anyway, mojitos mixed and food served, we sat down to eat.
The soul food was truly a visual feast — a mishmash of brown chicken, yellow mac and cheese, yellow cornbread and whitish potatoes. The meal gave an overall aesthetic impression of, well, beige, although the neutral colors were slightly offset by the collard greens.
Lack of visual variety aside, it all tasted delicious. The cornbread was a particular hit, and some authentic apple pie — well, from a box — rounded off the meal nicely. Yummy.
Southern Princess even presented me with a recipe for cornbread. Along with the list of ingredients, the instructions — in their entirety said, "Mix wet and dry, and then mix together. Bake at 400 degrees Fahrenheit." I still have not deciphered this simple but cryptic message.
All in all, this was a good introduction to Southern Princess' cuisine. I look forward to barbeque nights and fried pies in the future, although not too often — I fear my plane would not take off when I return to England.
Verdict: 4/5, very tasty for a plate of beige food. Watch the calories, though.
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Tai Frater is pursuing a post-graduate degree in occupational therapy. She can be reached at Tai.Frater@tufts.edu.
