--Aight, so I’ve given you a great deal to chew on this week. With respect to that, I’ll try and keep this one relatively lite. *fingers crossed--
Depending upon where you were raised, the name Hoppin’ John may or may not be familiar. Hell, the name may ring a bell, and you could still be lost. And that’s okay. It just isn’t one of those dishes you see around much any more. This could have a great deal to do with both the amount of starch involved in the dish, as well as the good little bit of time required to make it. I mean it calls for black-eyed peas -or, even better, field peas which cook without they notorious mushiness. Come on…how many of ya’ll are really still soaking black-eyed peas aside from me and your granny?
The first written recipe for Hoppin' John, originally a Low Country food before spreading to the entire population of the South, appeared in Sarah Rutledge’s The Carolina Housewife in 1847. The recipe involved nothing more than a pint of “red beans”, a pint of rice and a pound of bacon. Just. Plain. Simple. ☝🏽And quite southern. Not unfamiliar, though. Even to the folks who introduced the dish to Mrs. Rutledge.
The combination of rice and beans is common throughout the West African diaspora. This would make Hoppin’ John the South Carolina cousin to New Orleans’s red beans and rice, Jamaica’s peas and rice, Puerto Rico’s arroz con gandules, Cuba’s moros y cristianos, and the Senegalese dish thiebou niebe.
But how’d it get to us?
It’s been inaccurately written and falsely claimed that West Africans personally transplanted the black-eyed pea into the New World. food writer John Thorne helps us to understand differently in his essay the “Serious Pig” collection (North Point Press, 1996).
“The only thing Africans brought with them was their memories. If they were fortunate enough to have been taken along with other members of their own community and to stay with them (which rarely happened) — there was also the possibility of reestablishing out of these memories some truncated resemblance of former rituals and customs.”
In response to “lost property” during their travels (captured Africans suffering from malnutrition & less than habitable conditions) it was slave traders who began to import black-eyed peas to the United States partially as a backhanded charitable act of sorts to appease their unhappy charges, also to provide them a familiar food/food group to ensure their survival 😟.
Native to West Africa, the black eyed-pea was cultivated throughout the ancient world, from Greece and Rome to the Middle East and Asia. The durability of the dried African bean made it a prime provision aboard the transatlantic slave ship.
The cultivation of rice had already proven profitable in the Americas, and was abundantly easy to acquire. With this, natives of West Africa could prepare a dish that reminded them of home: an humble pairing of rice and beans that eventually became known as Hoppin’ John.
Tradition
This could be a discussion to last throughout the next year. There are numerous opinions regarding how to prepare Hoppin’ John, where the name hails from and what should go in it --though, everyone agrees that it is to be served with a warm piece of cornbread--
Tradition calls for a red or speckled bean, long grain white rice & fat chunks of bacon. Superstition -if ya buy into that sort of thing- says you wanna add a little green (usually collards or even okra) to make your money long. Whatever you feel works, though. The tastes we’re able to construct these days would astonish our ancestors (and probably upset their tummies). Simple ingredient is this dish’s calling card. But that ends tuh-day.
Finding balance between good taste and convenience, this’ll be my laziest recipe yet. This is one you can put together on a whim while your cornbread bakes and the kiddos vacuum before company arrives.
Method
Prep
1. Gather two medium-sized pots, and all ingredient
Work
2. In one pot, add black-eyed peas, drained stewed tomatoes and all dry ingredient (except chicken bouillon); stir over medium heat until bubbling. Reduce heat to medium-low, add frozen okra (we waited until now to avoid the sliminess as much as is possible); cover and reduce heat to medium-low; allow to simmer for nearly 15 minutes, or until okra is tender.
3. In the other pot, pour just enough olive oil into one pot to coat the bottom and place over medium heat. Once heated, add onions, thyme and bay leaf. When onions are nearly translucent, add minced garlic.
4. In this same pot, proceed to follow instructions for preparing Minute-Rice with the addition of your bouillon cube.
5. Once the rice has fluffed, uncover your black-eyed peas increase the heat to medium-high for just long enough to warm things up. Give it a few stirs, then pour directly into your pot of rice. Stir. Plate. Salt and pepper to taste. Enjoy!
Thassit, ya'll. That's all I've got for today. I hope you enjoy!
Until next time, I challenge you to live good, to do good and to eat good. But above all else, from deep in my soul, I wish you happy feelin's. See ya in the kitchen!
-Julian B.