As winter turns to spring and the bright purple flowers of the redbud trees begin to bloom, Cherokee chef Bradley James Dry knows it’s time to forage for morels as well as prepare the main meal. native American Dish in Oklahoma: Wild green onions.
Wild onions are one of the first foods to grow in the dead of winter in the South, and generations of indigenous people there have kept the allium at the center of an annual communal event. From February to May, there is a wild onion dinner every Saturday somewhere in Oklahoma.
The onion’s bright green stalks reach a few inches above dry leaves that crunch under Dry’s feet on a cool March morning as he hunts in parks and vacant lots near town. tulsa, The land he forages on extends into the Muscogee Nation and the Cherokee Nation, and he’s thinking about his Elise — grandmother in Cherokee — who taught him to pick and cook wild onions.
“To be able to cook like this, to cook the things that my grandmother used to cook for strangers, it’s really cool,” Dry explains, scanning the forest floor. He is careful not to harvest too much, taking only what he needs.
“Traditionally, the ones I grew up with, you just boil them in a little water and then fry them with a fried egg,” Dry said.
Wild onions like this are usually cooked for large gatherings, served with a side dish of greens with a familiar pepper, fried pork, beans, frybread, chicken dumplings, cornbread and safke – wood. Soup made from cracked corn and lye from ash that is common among tribal nations of the southeast, including the Muscogee, Chickasaw, Choctaw, Cherokee, and Seminole.
Dry likes to mix tradition with contemporariness, like using wild onions to make omelettes and kimchi.
“I’ve also used them to make salsa or chimichurri for steak,” he adds.
Next Saturday morning, at least 100 people are waiting for the tribal community center to open in Okmulgee, the capital of the Muscogee Nation, about 40 miles (65 kilometers) south of Tulsa. For the second year in a row, the community is gathering for a wild onion dinner to raise travel funds for Claudia McHenry, a tribal citizen hoping to compete in this year’s Miss Indian World pageant. albuquerquenew Mexico.
Dozens of people cook and share a meal, a silent auction takes place, and a local Meko – a Muskogee spiritual leader – gives an initial welcome.
For the past several generations, churches in Oklahoma — particularly the United Methodist Church in Native American communities — have used wild onion dinners to raise money for church bills and annual dues, said Chabon Kernell, who serves as president of his community. He is a MCO and UMC clergy member.
“But as the years went on, it became a huge community event,” he said.
McHenry said seeing the community rally behind him gives him the courage he needs.
He said, “To see people physically come through for me. It just gives me a lot of really good feelings and pushes me and motivates me to move forward toward my goals.”
For the next three hours, hundreds of people come and pay $15 for a plate of food to send him on his way. For many, helping McHenry or a local church is the only thing that can improve the undeniable allure of the HogFry. And next Saturday, nowhere is this more true than at Springfield UMC in Okemah, 35 miles (55 kilometers) south.
It is not unusual for people to come from Arkansas, Kansas or Texas for a piece of that community’s famous fried pork and a pile of wild onions. Some people travel so far because they are part of the Muskogee diaspora. Others simply follow church signs up a dusty gravel road until the canopy of trees opens up to an endless field of waving grass, still coppery from the rest of winter.
For nearly two decades, hundreds of people have lined up on the porch of the church’s small meeting hall for a plate of food on the first Saturday in April. And every year you’ll get a carol Leopard There, elbow deep in a bowl of frybread mixture.
Everyone calls Tiger the head cook.
“I just tell them what we have to do,” she said, sending a wave of laughter through the kitchen.
In past years, Tiger and other church elders would take their grandchildren to pick onions, but this year they expect 500 to 600 hungry people, so they cleaned and chopped onions for $40 a gallon. bought. Church families also contribute a gallon each.
Elders sit on verandah chairs and tell stories, children play in the nearby forests, and vendors sell beads and clothes. The small ground around the church has been mowed and filled with vehicles with tribal tags from across the state. The men roast pork in a giant cauldron over a fire outside, while the women fill the dining hall with the warmth of home-cooked meals.
After clearing their plates, attendees enjoy a piece of cake or a bowl of grape dumplings – a dessert traditionally made from wild grape juice that today is often made with frozen juice and canned biscuits. Is. They relax, talk and eat until the afternoon, when it’s time to leave they are decidedly sad.
But it’s the middle of April, and the season for eating wild onions isn’t over yet. There’s always next Saturday, a little down the road.
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Graham Lee Brewer is a member of APRace and ethnicity of the team.