AN OPEN TABLE

A Taste of Local Culture

Among the foothills of Appalachia, here in Southeast Ohio, a deep culinary tradition pulls from many nationalities and eras of history. Scotch-Irish, German, African and Native American cultures melded to develop the region’s eclectic cuisine. The logging and coal mining industries also affected the cultural ties with food. Preparing large group meals for breakfast to feed men headed into mines influenced traditions of sharing and connection. Focused on using local resources, these food traditions have now been passed down for generations.

Anita Hajivandi dedicates herself to the community connection she grew up with in West Virginia. She co-directs the food pantry of River of Life Church in Rutland, Ohio. Sharing food with others is part of her being.

Kathy Witten, who uses a rolling pin that has been in the family for generations, is passing on the tradition of cooking. She teaches her grandchildren the recipes and techniques that have come along with that rolling pin. And with her physical limitations, she’s grateful for the helping hands.

The food itself, from chicken and noodles to stack cakes, is firmly ingrained in Appalachia culture. Hunting deer, rabbit and squirrel is as much culinary custom as it is recreation. Big meals are meant to be shared, and visitors are always welcome at an open table.

COMMUNITY

Athens chef donates time to feed her community

TRADITION

Family helps grandmother continue her love of cooking

FOOD

Locally resourced staples make up traditional cuisine

MORE THAN A MEAL

A Southeastern Ohio chef volunteers her time directing a food pantry in her hometown

By Nate Swanson

The savory aroma of pork and sausage, the sight of sweet sorghum molasses mixed with creamy butter, and the taste of it all transports Anita Hajivandi back to the kitchen of her rural Appalachian home where her grandmother would cook hearty and traditional meals from recipes passed down through generations.

Today, Hajivandi spreads the same warmth and comfort of homemade cuisine to as many people as she can.

The culinary saint can often be found at the River of Life church in Rutland, Ohio where she co-directs the church's food pantry with her husband, Moe. But to the frequent visitors of the food pantry, she provides more than just packages of nonperishable items — she also serves up good, old-fashioned, homemade meals.

"I love cooking. I enjoy helping people you know, that's why I think I'm drawn to the food pantry."
—Anita Hajivandi

Photo by Nate Swanson

Anita and Moe Hajivandi stand together in the midst of their work outside the food pantry they both manage together at the River of Life Church.

“I love cooking. I enjoy helping people you know, that's why I think I'm drawn to the food pantry,” Hajivandi said. “I kind of fell into it b y accident, really. And truly, I never dreamed I'd be managing a food pantry. But it's been very satisfying to know that you made a difference.”

Hajivandi said her cooking offers the reassurance that visitors need to get through each week and a connection that some may be longing for. She is certain that good food fosters a bond between those who share a meal together. No matter how the food is prepared or how it’s received, it’s a gift that comes with no strings attached — it’s just about the natural act of giving and receiving."

“I think some of the greatest joys I've had have been when I've cooked for people,” she said. "I've made a lot of friends. . . most people love the food I cook.”

A native of Rutland, Hajivandi is all too familiar with the region in which she was raised by her mother and grandparents.

“I grew up on a great farm. . . a hundred acres. We ran wild. . . I had a great life,” she said, reminiscing her adolescent years. “I really embrace it. I think it was a wonderful childhood. It was a childhood of work. . . you work hard, you play hard.”

Growing up, there was no influx of money pouring into Hajivandi’s life, so going out to restaurants wasn’t an option. The food she ate, like many other Appalachians, was harvested in the summer and preserved for fall and winter. It was the standard. The change of seasons controlled what was on the plate.

But no matter the time of year, the breakfast spread Hajivandi enjoyed as a child “seven days a week” included coffee-fried pork with cured ham, sausage gravy biscuits, fried apples and eggs paired with a piping hot cup of coffee. To cool it down, Hajivandi was taught to first pour the coffee into a saucer, then back into its cup.

According to Hajivandi, morning meals like this one were the standard for coal miners, who, with their integral place in the national union workers movement of the early 1900s, are an essential part of Appalachian history. Like the coal miners, Hajivandi said many Appalachian folks like to enjoy a big, filling breakfast before setting out to conquer a day of hard work.

"Show me what you eat and I'll show you who you are."
—Anita Hajivandi

“Rarely was it — I mean, never was it — pancakes or cereal. That might be a treat every once in a while, but it was the same because you know people work on a farm,” she said. “They work in coal mines. They ate a big, hearty, heavy breakfast.”

Hajivandi’s childhood memories of life on a farm are a significant inspiration to the cuisine that she prepares today. To her, preparing and eating this food is a gateway to an open table, welcoming anyone and everyone, which is why she dedicates so much of her time to the food pantry. Before the coronavirus altered life as we knew it, her culinary skills were brought to the kitchen to prepare meals for visitors to enjoy and open the doors to the church for everyone to come in for a feast. Bringing together the community with food is one thing, but to cook the food with love in this sense carries a meaning greater than anything else. It’s cooking with intention that creates meaningful and lasting connections.

HELPING HANDS

Family helps grandmother continue her love of cooking

By Julia Martins de Sa and Erin Burk

It is a cool Sunday afternoon, and the smell of baking bread wafts all throughout the house. Bowls clink against each other as flour spills onto the countertops. The sounds of a volleyball game echo in from a television in the living room as Kathy Witten, 67, brushes her granddaughter’s hair behind her shoulder. Together, they properly mold and place homemade biscuits on a baking sheet. Witten’s family, including her daughter, son-in-law and grandchildren, have gathered for brunch — the first time since the pandemic began more than a year ago.

Kathy Witten and her family have always enjoyed Sunday brunches as an occasion for the family to come together and enjoy their favorite dishes, but since Witten was diagnosed with Parkinson’s disease in 2018, brunch has transformed from simply enjoying a hearty meal with one another to collaborating in what has become an intergenerational cooking event that has its roots in Appalachian cuisine. They also began meeting every week, and they now use this time together to instill a love of meals made from scratch in the next generation. “When I cook with my family I feel like… we create a strong bond,” said Witten. “It makes me feel better having them here and helping me.”

"When I cook with my family I feel like… we create a strong bond."
—Kathy Witten

Before her diagnosis, Witten would prepare everything by herself. But the shaky-hands symptom of Parkinson’s disease, as well as a recent injury to her left hand, has hindered the matriarchal chef’s mobility. Even though she still has the desire to feed her family, she now needs more assistance in order to make the meals they love the most. Her daughter, Mary-Beth Kaylor, 40, and granddaughters, Morgan and Madison Kaylor, both 14, have proven to be the most helpful in the kitchen.

“I was diagnosed three years ago… The biggest thing that I’ve noticed with having it is my speech and my handwriting, and I’m starting to shake and lose my balance. But I’ve decided Parkinson’s is not going to be my life. It’s not going to control me. I’m going to control it,” said Witten.

"I cook… a lot of the same foods that my mom did… I know I make homemade biscuits and gravy like she did… and the way we eat has a lot to do with southern cooking."
—Kathy Witten

Animation by Nathan Szoch On Sundays, the women of the family can be found crammed in Witten’s naturally lit kitchen, all working to fix a meal they can enjoy together. Witten takes the lead, and they all follow. Morgan kneads the dough for the biscuits and coats it in flour. Madison stirs the gravy while Witten seasons it and keeps a close eye so that it doesn’t burn. The grandmother moves on to ask the rest of the group how they’d like their eggs, and without being told, Mary-Beth moves to prepare them accordingly.

The final result is a plate stacked with fresh-from-the-oven biscuits, a large bowl of flavorful gravy, and a huge plate of scrambled eggs. For dessert, Witten prepares her specialty baked apples. By the end of brunch, all plates are licked clean and every stomach is pleasantly filled.

FEAST OF THE FOOTHILLS

Locally resourced staples make up traditional cuisine

By Anthony Warner

The Appalachian Mountains region, or The Hills as it’s commonly called, is an incredibly diverse section of the United States with many different people and just as many different foods. However, despite the diversity within a region that encompasses thirteen states, and a cuisine that defies any one encompassing description, there are common themes and the idea of “farm to table” is probably the most consistent of these.

Many families rely heavily on local, readily available ingredients rather than processed meats and produce as well as affordable and bulk ingredients due to their financial situations. Meals consist of what can be grown or raised on the farm and food is eaten fresh in season and canned or preserved for the winter.

"The Appalachian region has a strong history of preserving foods, like canning, curing, smoking and salting..."
—Chef Jay Seman

As Chef Jay Seman explained in an October of 2020 interview, “the Appalachian region has a strong history of preserving foods, like canning, curing, smoking and salting... You have to take what is given to you at the time and either eat it or prepare it to be eaten later. Nothing should ever go to waste.”

Vegetables like corn and potatoes provide the basis of many meals, not only because they are easily grown, but also because of their versatility of cooking. As an added benefit, these foods also provide some bulk to meals to help them stretch during times when money is tight.

The other commonality throughout Appalachian cooking is not a food at all but is instead the cast iron skillet. Both as a function of economics and practicality, as new kitchen gadgets became popular, the cast iron skillet persisted. In fact, it ultimately became a symbol for the Appalachian kitchen.

As Mark F. Sohn said in his book “Appalachian Home Cooking: History, Culture and Recipes”,,” “cast iron is Appalachian to its core.” A cast-iron skillet can be found in most Appalachian homes and because they get better with age, they tend to be handed down through generations.

Michelle Petrel grew up with her family in Dexter, Ohio, a small town located about a 30-minute drive south of Athens, Ohio. A staple dish of her family’s during fall and winter months is a recipe they call “creamed tomatoes–a dish made by pouring a tomato gravy over bread and butter with a side of fried potatoes. Petrel’s mother would make the meal on weeknights after work because it was quick, easy and cheap.

"I have very fond memories of that meal,  just because it was simple but warm and comforting, it’s like I am twelve-years-old again."
—Michelle Petrel

Creamed tomatoes features common ingredients like tomatoes, potatoes, milk and flour. Most of the dish is prepared in a pot and cast-iron skillet. No one in the family knows where or when the dish was introduced through the generations, but Petrel remarked that it likely came from the necessity of her great-grandparents and the ingredients they had on hand.

“We grew and canned our own tomatoes and tomato products, grew our own potatoes and kept them in cellars,” Petrel said. “Before my time, the farm was a dairy farm, so they readily had milk and butter.” Kelli Mayle is from Cutler, Ohio, a small community located near the Ohio and West Virginia border. She and her husband, Scott, along with their five children, now live in Etna, a small town near Columbus.

Like the Petrel family, the Mayle family makes and eats many of the foods they remember from their childhoods. Kelli remembers her grandma cooking every day before she went to school, and says the meals were “cheap, easy and [able to] feed the masses” as her family was a large one.  She now frequently cooks the meals she grew up with and says she often reminisces about “my childhood and my grandmother when I was growing up on the farm.”

Photo by Anthony Warner

Michelle Petrel often uses recipes that have been passed down through her family for generations.

The main dish Scott and Kelli enjoyed during their childhoods was sausage gravy over biscuits. Kelli recalls she and her family ate this meal almost every day when she was little because it was something they could afford. She jokes that they ate it so much now her father refuses to eat it ever again.

While Kelli’s father jokes about never eating the meals he grew up with again, Scott is the opposite and continues to make many of those familiar dishes, even if his family doesn’t. One of his favorite desserts as a child was bread sprinkled with sugar and then covered with milk. Despite having made it “a million times,” Scott still enjoys it.

Photo by Anthony Warner

Scott and Kelli Mayle in their kitchen. Kelli Mayle is Appalachian and biracial and she draws culinary inspiration from both cultures.

Like the stories Petrel shared, Kelli explains that much of the food that they had growing up was chosen because it was cost effective and easily obtainable. Kelli, who is bi-racial, notes this trait of necessity is shared between Appalachian cooking and traditional African- American meals. Even though some of these meals are created out of necessity, Kelli says they eventually become part of the culture.

Exact recipes are often hard to come by as the knowledge of how to make these meals is passed on through the experience of cooking them and are not necessarily written down. Petrel says she once called her mom for the creamed tomatoes recipe only to find out it wasn’t written down anywhere. People “just know” how to do it.