Sarah Lohman

I received an advance copy via NetGalley.

Slow Foods International has complied a catalog of important regional foods and food-production procedures that are endangered around the world. Culinary historian Sarah Lohman explores select items from that list, traveling around America to find out the real history of the food and how it's being kept alive today.

The trip is absolutely fascinating. Her tone is personable, the subject matter immersive. She's frank about how things such as climate show more change, colonialism, and capitalism have impacted which foods are popular and which ones die off.

In California's Coachella Valley, she examines how dates came to the state, how it was advertised using Arabic fantasy and biblical motifs, and how the industry gets by today. In Hawaii, she visited modern farms that continue to grow sugar cane, and discusses how canes came to Hawaii and how the sugar industry has changed through white settlement to only recently cease, and how people are trying to perpetuate older varieties of sugar cane.

She roams Navajo lands to butcher Navajo-Churro sheep and meets the Dine who raise and respect the animals who mean much to their people. Among the Lummi in Puget Sound, she sees what traditional reef net fishing is like and how Indigenous people are continuing the fight, legally and culturally, to catch salmon. In the Upper Midwest, she joins tribal members as they harvest manoomin, often branded as wild rice, and shines a light on environmental shifts in the region.

Apple cider has waned in popularity and prevalence over the centuries as religious and cultural norms have shifted, and today people are making a concerted effort to rediscover "lost apples" across America. The Choctaw people introduced sassafras powder to the Creoles of Louisiana, and today very few people continue the old ways of creating file powder for use in dishes such as gumbo. Free Black women sold groundnut cakes on the streets of Charleston, South Carolina, in the 19th century and into the 20th, and now people are trying to bring back heirloom peanuts such as Carolina Runner.

This is a book that will make you think. Past and perpetuated injustices will make you angry--but the way that people are trying to preserve foods, preserve their history and culture, will also make you grateful. Also: this is a book that will make you HUNGRY. Ultimately, the tale is one that encourages conservation so that these foods and their methods can continue to be eaten, enjoyed, and respected. show less

Very interesting food history of many things I hadn't heard of before, and plants I never thought would have heirloom varieties. I really loved the attention given to the ways that colonization both contributes to the development of new foods and cultures, and how it directly causes the near or total eradication of traditional foods. I liked meeting the people working to preserve these rare foods, while the author also acknowledged that many of the indigenous and enslaved people who show more contributed to the food's cultivation don't have access to these preservation efforts. This is an inherent flaw in preserving rare foods by turning them into a commodity. The author's narration was upbeat and really captured her passion for the topic.  show less

The best food histories are just histories. Sarah Lohman captures a whole lot of history in narratives about eight flavors that she feels best define American cuisine: black pepper, vanilla, chili powder, curry powder, soy sauce, garlic, monosodium glutamate (MSG), and sriracha. I could feel my resistance when I read MSG, but it is worth quoting the book here:

"Today there’s a double standard when it comes to the perception of MSG. If it’s in Chinese takeout, it’s called MSG, and it’s show more like poison. But when MSG is utilized by high-end American chefs and brands, it referred to as “Umami" and it’s celebrated as revolutionary. Although [Kikunae] Ikeda named this taste umami in 1907, the designation wasn’t accepted officially by the scientific community until 2000, when taste receptors on the tongue were specifically identified for glutamate. Umami became the fifth official taste, alongside sweet, salty, bitter, and sour."(193)

That was a bit of a mic drop moment for me because I had honestly never really made the connection. Although I've not lived in fear of MSG, I certainly grew up hearing about its various pros and cons (mostly cons). But I'm beginning to appreciate more and more how we fear "chemicals" by virtue of that nomenclature alone, never really considering that nature and chemistry are bedfellows a good portion of the time.

But the book is also a story of people--like the Chili Queens of San Antonio and William Gebhardt who used their chili con carne as the inspiration for his chili powder. Or the mysterious Ranji Smile and his role in popularizing curries in the U.S. Or how anti-Italian sentiments in the late 1930s made garlic vile in spaghetti, but a charm in Provençal/French cuisine. The story of David Tran, inventor of sriracha (inspired by a Thai sauce called Sriraja Panich, invented in 1949 by a woman named Ms. Thanom Chakkapak), was one of the most riveting, as Lohman narrates Tran's journey from Vietnam aboard a Panamanian freighter to Hong Kong, then to Boston (briefly), finally to California, birthplace and home of that blend of chili mash, garlic, sugar, and xantham gum that has become beloved sriracha.

Lohman writes conversationally and weaves together anecdotes and research in the best of ways. This is a great read for anyone who likes to cook or likes to eat (or at least care about what they eat). Lohman illuminates the narratives in our food, and carefully extracts specific flavors that deserve recognition instead of being smothered with the falsehood of the American "melting pot." show less

An enjoyable and informative read, examining the eight flavours of the title and the history of their journeys to ubiquity in the US. It finds an odd but not unpleasant balance in tone, sometimes scholarly, sometimes unexpectedly dipping into pop culture references and the vernacular. The stories themselves are an interesting mix of food science, social history and cookery.
Eight Flavors gets a bit of narrative punch by writing up champions of each flavour: like Edmond Albius, the young show more slave who discovered the method of hand-pollinating vanilla, or Sadie Thornhill, chili queen.
It's a little disappointing, as a reader from outside of the US, to lack the connection to any of the many local eateries and many of the culinary trends depicted. Some of these flavours have a very different history and resonance elsewhere. Can't blame the author for any of that though.
I've tried a few of the recipes here and had no spectacular misfires, although the entire 250g stick of butter in the Country Captain Chicken was probably, on reflection, a bit extravagant. show less