Who knew? A lot of people might have. Just not me. But now, after over 40 years of working in the food world, I know—a bowl of hot farina, made from freshly milled wheat, makes for a seriously marvelous, world-class meal. It’s a delicious artisan return to what a well-made wheat porridge would have been like back when Malinda Russell was writing in Paw Paw in the second half of the 19th century. When we first came out with Cream of the Crop freshly milled whole wheat porridge at the Bakehouse a few years ago, I was excited for our Cream of Wheat-loving customers. It was obviously an enormous quality improvement over the standard commercial offerings! Topped with butter and maple syrup, honey, or fresh fruit, it’s pretty fantastic.

This month, the Roadhouse has it on the breakfast menu as well, topped with a bit of that terrific Vermont Creamery cultured butter. If you come by in the morning during the week, you can have your farina sweetened, of course, with real maple syrup. Alternatively, you could ask for it the way I would eat it: I skip the syrup and enjoy it with just that amazingly flavorful cultured butter and then a bunch of that fantastic farm-to-table Tellicherry black pepper added after the bowl is brought to the table. Or, instead of the butter, you could opt for some of the terrific Séka Hills olive oil we get from northern California on top. Mind-blowing! Tasting it this way the other day, it was so good that I went back and added more oil and pepper. Essentially, I realized, it’s a bit like a “bruschetta in a bowl!” So good! Alternatively again, add a fried egg on top!

For historical context, the commercially packaged Cream of Wheat debuted at the 1893 World’s Columbian Exposition in Chicago which opened on the 1st of May. On May 5th of that year, a stock market crash started what came to be called the Panic of 1893 and a serious depression followed. Part of the response locally came from Detroit Mayor Hazen Pingree, who created what came to be called his “Potato Patch Plan” which called for community gardening on vacant land in the city to help folks feed themselves. So little is new!

You can also buy bags of the Cream of the Crop (uncooked) at the Bakehouse to make at home too. Thanks to everyone at the Bakehouse for making it possible to add a wonderful dish to our weekly cooking routines! And to the Roadhouse for getting on the menu so we can all just walk it and order it up ready-cooked!!

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A big bowl of Southern comfort
in this wonderful seafood stew

Without a doubt, one of my favorite foods from the Roadhouse—and I get to eat a lot of good food—is the Creole Potlikker Fish Stew. We’ve been serving it for nearly a decade now, and with each passing week, I think it accumulates even more loyal fans. In the spirit of Natural Law #10, since no one else (to my knowledge) makes this dish anywhere in the country, Potlikker Fish Stew is wholly unfamiliar to most new customers. Its strength? It’s well on its way to becoming a signature dish, worthy, I believe, of national attention.

While hardly any of us up here in the north have ever heard of it, down South, potlikker is pretty much an iconic culinary staple. For those who are just now learning of it, potlikker is the broth from the long-cooked, loaded up with bacon, and collard greens we make every day at the Roadhouse. It’s basically a bacon-spiked, slightly spicy, vegetable broth. In the South, potlikker is powerful stuff—the Southern equivalent of chicken soup, the way I see it.

Aside from its socio-culinary context, potlikker has an important role to play in American history. Culinary historian, accomplished author, and friend, John T. Edge explains its significance in American political history:

The Potlikker and Cornpone Debate of 1931 began when Julian Harris, an editor of the Atlanta Constitution, verbally assailed Huey Long, governor of Louisiana and United States senator-elect, over the question of whether cornbread should be dunked or crumbled into potlikker. The debate quickly escalated, and, for approximately twenty-three days, between February 13 and March 8 of 1931, engaged most of the South and much of the nation. Extensive newspaper accounts and correspondence from the time illuminate the primary themes of gender, race, class, and regional chauvinism that inform this debate.

To make this special Creole Fish Stew, we use the potlikker to poach some seafood—selections vary daily, and you’re welcome to ask. Usually, it’s three or four fish, and often some of those amazing day boat scallops we get in from the East Coast. The whole dish comes together beautifully, all poured and bubbling hot over the amazing traditionally-grown and stone-ground grits we get from Anson Mills. Dishes like this have West African roots—a fish stew served over a starch; lots of fish, lots of leafy greens. Swing by the Roadhouse, order a bowl, breathe in the restorative aromas, and enjoy a moment of quiet, comfort, and calm while you eat.

P.S. If you come late afternoon, the Roadhouse Happy Hour runs from 2 to 6 pm, Monday through Friday. A host of drink deals, special Texas tacos, fried pickles, and more!

P.P.S. Here’s a longer piece I wrote about potlikker about 15 years ago.