Eats for the Ages
Photography by Greg Powers (2)
Did you know that Thomas Jefferson smuggled rice out of Italy in his coat pockets— a crime punishable by death at the time? Or that from the mid-1800s to the 1930s, the U.S. Department of Agriculture dispatched “plant hunters” to the far reaches of the planet to bring back seeds for persimmons, pomegranates and pistachios? Or that, thanks to the Margarine Act of 1886, citizens served hard time for “crimes against butter”?
All these tasty tidbits and more are there for the taking at “What’s Cooking, Uncle Sam?” an exhibit at the National Archives that explores the government’s effect on the American diet. In the early days, it seems the government acted as the Great Supplier, distributing seeds to farmers for free in an age before seeds were commercially available. Then the government became the Great Protector, employing a “poison squad” to rout out foreign substances in manufactured food, and eventually passed the Pure Food and Drug acts.
Then— and this is where the exhibit really shines— the government shape-shifted into the Great Propagandist, creating vintage posters that implored citizens to “Save the sugar and wheat for soldiers,” “Eat More Cottage Cheese,” “Use Leftovers”— and, most bizarrely, “Eat the Carp.” That poster features a list of 10 (not particularly convincing) reasons to sup on carp, including, “It can be cooked in such a way to remove the muddy taste.”
Alas, walking through the exhibit, you learn that in the 1890s, word was already out, thanks to renowned nutrition scientist W.O. Atwater, that Americans “eat too much fat and sweets and don’t get enough exercise.” (We can thank Atwater for introducing the word “calorie” to our vocabulary.) One wonders what he’d have thought of the 1945 USDA pie chart— a forerunner of the food pyramid— that gave butter its own food group, or of the depictions of doughnuts as a nutritious power food (because they were fortified with vitamin B1).
I got so immersed— looking at posters and letters and studying the recipes for Lyndon Johnson’s chili, JFK’s chowder and Eisenhower’s vegetable soup— that it came as a jolt when, right after a display about school lunches, the exhibit cut off abruptly. I was so surprised, in fact, that I retraced my steps to make sure I hadn’t skipped a room. No such luck. The exhibit ends before discussing the government’s role in the fascinating food issues of our current day, such as the ban on trans fats, the new spate of urban farmers or any of the food safety issues raised by books like “Fast Food Nation” and documentaries like “Food, Inc.”
What was there was great. But I was definitely hungry for more.
Luckily, just a few blocks away is America Eats Tavern, a “pop-up” restaurant that is the creation of José Andrés, a James Beard “Outstanding Chef” for 2011 and the chef/owner of ThinkFoodGroup, which owns five of D.C.’s most acclaimed restaurants. America Eats, as the menu states, is “a place where you can travel through time to find the moment when our American identity was forged in a pot, skillet and bowl.” It’s meant to be a companion to the National Archives exhibit (some of its nifty vintage posters hang on the restaurant’s walls and profits at the restaurant will be donated to the Foundation for the National Archives) and it’s a great one.
I started by sipping a few colonial beverages at the bar under the tutelage of Owen Thomson, ThinkFoodGroup’s lead bartender and the researcher/ creator of the bar’s historical cocktail menu, which includes everything from switchel (a field worker’s drink from New England) to Ben Franklin’s milk punch (light and fizzy) to grog (puts hair on your chest). Thomson and his fellow bartenders eagerly shared their knowledge, and by the time my table was ready, I’d learned a key lesson: colonial mixology was driven by a need to preserve things in an age before refrigeration.
Once at my table, I decided to indulge in the 10-course tasting menu. At $95, it’s steep, but worth every penny for the quality and beauty of the dishes— and for the uniqueness of the experience. Where else can you find abalone on the same menu as burgoo and a peanut butter and jelly sandwich? Thanks to the menu, which is a history and food buff’s dream, I can report that the practice of eating abalone dates to 1945, burgoo was originally made with blackbirds and squirrels in Kentucky in the 1860s and the invention of the PBJ is credited to Helen Louise Johnson, the author of a 1896 cookbook published by a manufacturer of nut grinders.
I started with grilled butter oysters, which had a smoky flavor and hint of something… well… unusual. “What was on those?” I asked my very knowledgeable server as she took away my plate. “Mace,” she said. Aha, not a spice I encounter regularly.
The abalone came to the table under a glass dome, and with its pearlescent shell, bed of delicate seaweed and puff of foam, it looked like an exquisite glass terrarium— tasted exquisite, too. Next came a round of dishes that were very tasty— she crab soup, shrimp and grits, lobster Newburg and short ribs— but didn’t taste new and different (or old and different, to be more exact), as the oysters and abalone had.
Then came the ketchup.
I had learned at the National Archives exhibit that during the early days of ketchup production the bottles often exploded in the factory, causing great harm to life and limb— and yet, despite the risk, our forefathers loved the stuff. I dipped a bite of fried chicken into each of the three ketchups brought to my table, one made from yellow tomato, one from mushrooms and one from cherries. None tasted like Heinz’s, a good thing in the case of the yellow tomato ketchup but not so much in the case of the mushroom (which tasted like dirt) or cherry ketchup (just plain odd).
Out of loyalty to my hometown, I couldn’t leave before trying the crab cake, made from a recipe published by our own Lord Baltimore Hotel, circa 1932.
What can I say? It represents us well. And it’s one for the history books.
“What’s Cooking, Uncle Sam?” is at the National Archives until Jan. 3, 2012. Open daily 10 a.m. to 5:30 p.m., http://www.archives.gov.
America Eats Tavern is open daily for lunch and dinner, and brunch on weekends, until January 2012. 405 8th St., N.W., Washington, D.C. 202-393-0812, http://www.americaeatstavern.com.
The lovely Hotel Monaco is walkable to both, http://www.monaco-dc.ocm.
