A selection of my public-facing and academic writing.
Saltbox Seafood Joint Cookbook | co-written with Chef Ricky Moore
Ricky Moore was born and reared in the North Carolina coastal town of New Bern, where catching and eating fresh fish and shellfish is what people do. Today, Moore is one of the most widely admired chefs to come out of the region. In this cookbook, he tells the story of how he started his wildly popular Saltbox Seafood Joint® restaurants and food truck in Durham, North Carolina. Moore, a formally trained chef, was led by a culinary epiphany in the famous wet markets of Singapore to start a restaurant focused purely on the food inspired by the Carolina coast and its traditional roadside fish shacks and camps. Saltbox Seafood Joint’s success is a testament to Moore’s devotion to selecting the freshest seasonal ingredients every day and preparing them perfectly. In sixty recipes that celebrate his coastal culinary heritage, Moore instructs cooks how to prepare Saltbox Seafood Joint dishes. Charts and illustrations in the book explain the featured types, availability, and cuts of fish and shellfish used in the recipes. Published by the University of North Carolina Press.
"A Longer (Tar Heel) Table: The Long History of Lenoir Dining Hall and Campus Food"
Contribution to the digital project, Names in Brick and Stone: Histories from UNC's Built Landscape, founded and organized by Dr. Anne Whisnant.
“Like many other buildings on this campus, the University named Lenoir Dining Hall after a white male southerner with a problematic past. While many other buildings have faced scrutiny for such namings, Lenoir has been overlooked, likely because it has been the center of other much more contemporary campus controversies during its relatively short existence. What is most intriguing about Lenoir Dining Hall, however, is not its namesake, though it is definitely no small issue, but rather the civic engagement fostered between students, staff, and faculty over the universal issue of food. Throughout its history, Lenoir Dining Hall has been a setting for campus social life, serving as both a battleground for social justice and a space for community empowerment and building longer tables…”
The Future Publics of Food Studies: A Conversation | Graduate Journal for Food Studies 4 (2)
For this Food-Stuff piece, Editor-In-Chief Emily Contois chats with Katherine Hysmith, the Journal’s Communications Editor, to discuss how Katherine balances and blends her work in the academy, as a PhD student in American Studies at UNC, with her work in the world of food, where she is a professional photographer, food stylist, recipe developer, and Instagram star. What follows is a conversation about knowledge and expertise, writing for academic and public audiences, and what the future of food studies and social media might hold.
"Liberty Tree Shrub" | Finalist for the Smithsonian Raise-A-Glass Cocktail Contest, 2014
“I just completed my master's thesis on British food and drink in the American South, so it's time for a drink! My cocktail is a mixture of several moments in history where tea, British influence, and American stubbornness collide. During the Revolutionary War, the colonies promoted patriotism by switching to tea substitutes (made of blackberry, raspberry, or sage leaves), which they proudly dubbed Liberty Tea. Fast forward to the Civil War and another round of wartime rationing. In attempts to starve the South, the Union blockaded major ports, halting exports as well as edible imports like tea, sugar, and foreign spirits. This didn't stop the South from sipping their own cups of Liberty Tea or making other traditional British beverages like the shrub, a peculiar syrup made of fruit, sweetener, and an acidic liquid. Ultimately, all this history boils down to a refreshing beverage that includes flavors born of wartime rations, American resourcefulness, and a bit of enduring Anglomania.”
A Ritual is Brewing: Tea in New England | t.e.l.l. New England
The morning of December 16, 1773 was just like any other in colonial Boston. Beds were made, boots were laced, chores were seen. And, for those who could still afford and overlook the newly imposed tax, a pot of tea was likely served. But in a matter of hours, this seemingly mundane routine, this everyday ritual, was about to change. As tea-strained patriots gathered in anger over the unjustified tariffs levied on a culturally vital beverage, a plot was brewing that would alter the drinking preferences of the new nation for generations to come. That night, 342 chests of fine Chinese tea went into the harbor. The table was set, the tea served, and Boston was having none of it. Read more.
Hidden greenhouses in Iceland grow and serve tomatoes | The Boston Globe
REYKHOLT, Iceland — The Golden Circle is a scenic drive straight out of science fiction: a 185-mile loop of two-lane road meanders through the countryside, passing frozen fields dotted with wind-hewed stones, pitch-black volcanic ruins, geothermal pools spilling over with steam, tectonic divides with highland rivers, a massive glacier-fed waterfall, and Geysir, the original hot spring from which all other geysers get their name. Read more.
New England's Historic Rum Trade | t.e.l.l. New England
Long characterized by a patriotic distrust of tea and the Imperial shackles that accompanied each sip, New England has, in fact, a more significant relationship with a much stronger spirit.
Kill-Devil. Oh be Joyful. Rumbullion. Demon Rum. There were as many names for the spirit as there were ways to drink it. Rarely consumed plain – or neat as we say today – rum was often combined with all manner of tonics including spring water, citrus juices, freshly grated spices, small and dark beers, warmed through with cream, hot butter, or whipped into a frenzy with eggs. And recipes varied from tavern to tavern and house to house. Read more.
Chicken Bridge Bakery Feeds Bodies and Minds with Baked-In Messages of Resistance and Solidarity | The Indy Weekly
It beckoned like a porch light in a thunderstorm, across a row of market stalls heaped high with greens and crates of tomatoes on a humble little table spread with a crumb-covered cloth: a perfectly round loaf of bread, delicately stenciled with the shape of North Carolina, my new home. Read more.