Slaves in the kitchen: ‘Africa was on that table’

Before she was an African-American studies scholar, a history professor or a Ph.D. in African diaspora studies, Kelley Deetz was a cook, so it makes sense that she still gravitates toward the kitchen. It always ends up being the most interesting room in the house - even when the house is 250-some years old, hasn't seen an active ladle in a lifetime and is better equipped for an archaeological dig than a fancy dinner party.

A Northern California native now relocated to the southern side of the Mason-Dixon, Dr. Deetz chronicles the legacy of slavery on-campus at the University of Virginia, where she is the research associate for the President's Commission on Slavery and the University. But Deetz, who cooked professionally from her middle-school years through undergrad at William & Mary and graduate studies at UC-Berkeley, has always seen her pre-academic line of work as historically porous - a sponge soaking up details that tend to get missed.

Deetz brings the fruits of her research to Philadelphia this Friday for a sold-out event at Germantown's Cliveden estate. The historic site has developed its own progressive approach to discussing its slaving past. Cliveden will host "Cookin' for the Big House: Slavery, Race, Gender & the Kitchen Axis," Deetz's talk on the immense influence West African enslaved cooks had on American cuisine.

Deetz's job involves her "trying to people the places" - supplementing history with first-person accounts that help retell stories with greater clarity and veracity. And she's uncovered some of her most fascinating evidence when studying the enslaved cooks of Antebellum plantations down south.

When people think about cooks who prepared food for the so-called "big house" - slang for the complex where slave-owning planters and their families lived - "they have an instant image in their head: submissive, culturally whitewashed," said Deetz. But her analysis of archival materials, from historic cookbooks to correspondence between the wives of plantation owners, suggests this take is shortsighted.

The ability to execute opulent meals was a skill highly valued by mistresses, granting cooks more cachet than enslaved workers assigned to other duties on the plantation. While records indicate that enslaved cooks worked brutal hours, often more than their counterparts in the fields, many were able to parlay their talents into a heightened quality of life for themselves and their families.

"Since the mistress did not cook the food, she was sometimes met with controlling demands from her cook," writes Deetz in Bound to the Fire: Virginia's Enslaved Cooks and their Kitchens, her book set to be published next month. "There are records of cooks telling their mistress to get out of the kitchen, a practice only functional in a negotiated relationship."

Plantation cooks wielded more influence than our typical understanding affords them. "They were more subversive than people realize," said Deetz. "They had dignity, control, and a fair amount of power within the relationships they had in the big house."

One prominent area in which this power manifested itself was the contents of menus.

In the 18th century, meals prepared for big-house diners at Virginia plantations were largely British or French in influence. As time passed, however, Deetz noted a prominent increase in the frequency of West African dishes, ingredients and techniques, like deep-frying and barbecue. "By the 19th century, you'd see gumbo, okra stew, jambalaya," said Deetz. "Africa was on that table."

K&J Caribbean American Diner, in Germantown, will cater Deetz's lecture, in a nod to the Afro-Caribbean culinary influences enslaved workers brought with them to the Colonies.

Built in 1767 as the summer home of Colonial attorney Benjamin Chew, Cliveden has belonged to the National Trust for Historic Preservation since 1972. The site of 1777's Battle of Germantown, it's a prominent attraction for American history buffs. (Note: The estate name is pronounced with a short "i" sound, as in "if"; nearby Cliveden Street is pronounced with a long "i" as in "eye.")

Since multiple generations of Chews owned slaves, it became important for Cliveden not to downplay this difficult but significant portion of the estate's history. In 2012, the site began developing programming focused on African-American contributions at Cliveden, shifting focus away from the opulent Georgian mansion and toward lesser-understood zones of labor. This includes the central external kitchen, built the same year as the big house, and an additional midcentury-modern kitchen added in 1959.

At this time, we don't know much about the everyday lives of Cliveden's enslaved workers, but archivists are analyzing Chew family records to develop these narratives. In the meantime, "Living Kitchens at Cliveden," the Pew-supported series of which Deetz's lecture is a part, is an opportunity to harness momentum. The initiative will feature regular events designed to explore history, both local and national, through the prism of food.

"I felt like their agenda was completely in line with mine," said Deetz of the initiative, which will continue through 2016. "These are the kinds of things that white supremacy and slavery erase. My work is a way to recredit things."

Friday's program with Dr. Kelley Deetz is sold out. For information about future "Kitchen Conversations" and other programs at Cliveden (6401 Germantown Ave.) at 215-848-1777 or cliveden.org.

Drew Lazor has been writing about the local food scene since 2005. His twice-monthly column focuses on unexpected people doing unexpected things in Philadelphia food. If you come across a chef, restaurant, dish or food-related topic that bears investigation, contact him at andrewlazor@gmail.com or on Twitter @drewlazor.