Good African cooking takes root

This story about food classes that focus on African cooking originally appeared in Model D, a e-newsletter about Detroit, on March 13 2017, and is reprinted by permission of the author. Guest writer Sarah Rose Sharp is a Detroit-based writer, activist, photographer, and multimedia artist whose articles have appeared in Art in America, Hyperallergic, Flash Art, ArtSlant, and others. All photos by the author.

By day, the cafeteria and kitchen of Christ the King Catholic Church is busy preparing lunch in the service of its adjoining K-8 school. Most nights, it’s pretty quiet—sometimes the facilities are used to host fundraisers or other church-related events. But on a Monday in February, a small gathering coalesced for a different purpose: the intersection of healthy eating practices and African heritage.

This is the mid-term installment of a six-class series on the “A Taste of African Heritage” diet—a nutritional education effort offered in a partnership between the Detroit Food Policy Council (DFPC) and the nonprofit Metropolitan Organization Strategy Enabling Strength (MOSES). “A Taste of African Heritage” is just one of many approaches taken by the DFPC to address inequities in Detroit’s food systems, and retool some of the ways Detroiters deal with their health and wellness through eating.

Studies have shown that African-American populations suffer disproportionately from food-related health conditions, such as obesity, hypertension, and Type II diabetes. The reasons for these disparities are myriad. There’s cultural and social factors, such as an affinity for traditional home cooking that may include lots of salt, animal fats, or sugar. Also the cheapest foods are almost always less healthy than fresh or organic options, and low-income families often have less access to healthier eating alternatives.

Organizations like the DFPC and MOSES seek to address these inequities through policy reform, the creation and support of localized and sustainable food systems, and educational efforts, like the one taking place over six wintery Mondays in Christ the King’s kitchen. While previous DFPC educational series were aimed directly at community members, this particular series has the ambition of training participants to disseminate the learnings through their own classes, often in the context of auxiliary congregational activities or health ministries.

Addressing food justice

One such participant is Nefer-Ra, who teaches urban farming classes at Earthworks—an urban farming campus connected with the long-running Capuchin Soup Kitchen on Detroit’s east side. Nefer Ra is a powerful presence in the urban farm community, and a tireless advocate for food justice in Detroit. But despite the seriousness of her mission and the determination with which she tackles the obstacles that face Detroiters seeking food sovereignty, Nefer Ra’s demeanor is playful. One participant suggests that being a good cook is a way to get a man.

“Oh no, I don’t want him to know I can cook,” Nefer-Ra says. “Then he’ll expect it!” The kitchen explodes in laughter.

Classes like these are more than just recipe-sharing and community-building—although a great deal of both take place in the kitchen. The primary aim is to intervene with eating habits on an individual and community level, to centralize healthy and informed decision-making among Detroiters about the foods they consume, and critically, those they serve to their children.

The informational session that kicks off each of the lessons serves not just to receive information from the instructor, licensed nutritionist, and DFPC executive director Winona Bynum, but also as an opportunity to swap anecdotal wisdom between participants.

“When you’re raising kids, you have to remember you’re helping form their tastes,” says DFPC program director Kibibi Blount-Dorn. “It can take up to sixteen times for a child to adjust to a new taste, especially something bitter or with strong flavors, so you have to keep presenting it to them. It can even take as many as twenty-one times if your child is especially picky.

“I have one of those 21-times children,” she adds with a laugh.

Good, tasty food

Tonight’s lesson focuses on beans and rice, which is a full-protein, vegetarian, lactose-free means of adding calcium to a diet. The six sections of the class cover: spices, greens, whole grains, beans and rice, tubers and mashes, and fruits, veggies, and healthy lifestyle.

The recipes and formulations in the Taste of Africa diet rely on replacing some of the dangerous staples of “soul food”—often high in sodium—with an array of traditional spices from the African diaspora, such as allspice, curry, and cilantro, that might feature flavors that children find strong. But the course doesn’t propose radical or unsustainable lifestyle alterations, instead seeking to incorporate substitutions and gradual changes in habits.

“I came to this work while I was changing my own diet, says Bynum. “It’s a gradual process.”

“I gave up pop a couple years ago,” another participant puts in. “The other day, at a church gathering, they had a pitcher of what I thought was water, and it turned out to be Sprite. I took a sip by accident and was horrified by how sweet it was. I lost the taste for it.”

Even small changes to diet and lifestyle can have massive long-term benefits, especially when they are imparted to younger generations. In the kitchen, and under careful supervision, the youngest class member, eight-years old, helps measure out the ingredients for a flavorful rice dish, a chickpea salad, and a Caribbean Coconut Red Beans dish. The kitchen buzzes with energy, women swapping stories, cooking tips, and flavorful aromas.

Ben Washburn, MOSES treasurer and representative of Christ the King Catholic Church, helped facilitate the class. “We see education and experiences like this as a foundational way of building a strong congregation,” Washburn says. “Just look at this place. Who wouldn’t want to be a part of something like this?”

It’s true that collective food preparation and sharing meals falls increasingly by the wayside in the name of convenience, round-the-clock working hours, and fractured communities. So perhaps it’s not only a culinary heritage that classes like this are hoping to reclaim, but one of togetherness, mutual support, and mealtimes as a positive and inter-generational experience.

For more information about the series and other future nutrition education series, visit the Detroit Food Policy Council online.

This article is part of Michigan Nightlight, a series of stories about the programs and people that positively impact the lives of Michigan kids. It is made possible with funding from the W.K. Kellogg Foundation. Read more in the series here.

[Editor’s note: Today’s recipe is one I made a few months ago when I went to a dinner for Dining for Women, an organization I wrote about in this space in 2016. The country of focus was Mali, and I made this easy tofu recipe for the potluck.]

Mindfulness with Geri Larkin in cooking and in eating


When people ask me why I keep kosher, which greatly limits what I eat, I answer that one of the reasons is that it helps me be mindful about food. I can’t put just anything into my mouth. First I have to be sure that the food itself is kosher. Then I have to be sure I’m not mixing meat or poultry with anything made from a dairy product. For me, this elevates eating into a holy act that connects me with the Jewish community and with more than 5,000 years of Jewish history.

Interested in reading more? I do plan to devote some future Feed the Spirit columns to the meaning of keeping kosher.

But, today, I’m turning farther East—to tell you a little about Buddhist mindfulness and food. When I read one chapter of Geri Larkin’s latest book, Close to the Ground, recently, I got a new appreciation for the idea of mindfulness. You can meet Geri today in a new in-depth author interview.

A factor in enlightenment

Geri is a well-known Buddhist writer after nearly two decades writing books for various publishers. In this, her 11th book, she turns to the nuts and bolts of enlightened living. She draws on a 2,000-year-old portion of Buddhist teaching that lists seven factors that can contribute to enlightenment, including mindfulness, energetic activity and joy.

Geri doesn’t give readers long sections of Buddhist analysis. Instead, she tells delightful stories of experiences that made her, and the people around her, vividly aware of these seven factors in their own lives.

In an interview, Geri said she was determined not to get “too Buddhist-y” in the book.

“Many Buddhist teachings and practices take years to appreciate and develop. It takes a long time in life to approach what might be called mature spirituality, but we have to start somewhere. And we all can start, every day, with small things we experience and choose to do,” she said.

Mindfulness in meal preparation

Carefully preparing meals can be an experience of mindfulness. Geri’s first experience in real cooking was at a Buddhist retreat, when she was asked to chop a box full of onions. She didn’t even know enough to peel the onions first, and hacked away at them with a dull knife, onion pieces flying everywhere.

Geri says since then she’s prepared countless meals, she’s eaten food at many retreats and she’s been served many meals as a guest. “And I can always tell when things were prepared mindfully, when the cooking itself was a spiritual practice,” she said.

She adds, “Whenever I want to know how I’m doing, vis a vis mindfulness, including today, all I have to do is look at an onion I’ve chopped up. The same is true for all fruits and vegetables. When the pieces are even and neat and piled somewhere carefully, mindfulness is in the air.”

Along the way, Geri became an accomplished cook. Her latest book includes this recipe, which will serve 4 to 6, depending on how hungry everyone is. (And many thanks to loyal reader and Read the Spirit contributor Debra Darvick for taking the time to make the recipe and photograph the result.)