Food is so important because it’s over meals that memories are made, relationships are
formed and stories are shared.

It’s not just about the tasty morsels we devour; food is a piece of our culture.
You hear about a loved one’s day over the dinner table, learn a chef’s inspiration at a
restaurant, join in family traditions at a local small farm. These moments shape who we
– both as individuals and Appalachians – are.

Mike Costello, a West Virginia chef and co-owner of Lost Creek Farm with his wife Amy,
is exploring those foodways that help define West Virginia through storytelling dinners.

“Food is an incredible way to help tell a story. We create meals that in every way
possible are regionally inspired and rooted in tradition, rooted in place and tell stories
about people and their connection to place," Costello said. "Using food to indicate how
culture was formed here around the landscape and how Appalachians left their mark
are all part of a story that needs told."

What does that story look like? It could be anything from a braised rabbit dish crafted
with meat rabbits raised at the Lost Creek Farm to a grandmother’s recipe for cornbread
using an heirloom variety of corn. It could be sausage crafted in a traditional way from a
Spanish community in Harrison County or a dish adapted for the area based on the
availability of goods – like Italian dishes made without seafood.

Stories could take the form of local ingredients, heirloom varieties, traditional methods,
family recipes, or something else. What’s important is the meaning behind the food –
and that it reflects the culture, the landscape and the people.

"As long as Appalachia continues to get trendy, stories are gonna be told through food.
If we don’t take initiative and say this is our story to tell, someone will tell our story for
us,” he said.

Those stories are what separates local Appalachian cuisine from a trendy restaurant in
New York or Los Angeles simply using Appalachian ingredients stripped from context,
Costello said.

“Appalachian cuisine gets stereotyped as being one-note and monolithic, but there’s
more diversity reflected in our foodways than the outside narrative gives us credit for,”
Costello said. “But we’ve Lebanese populations in the Kanawha Valley, Spanish
communities in Harrison County, Serbian in the Northern Panhandle. The food culture
here has depth and complexity.”

Lost Creek Farm hosted a recent dinner at Rising Creek Bakery in Mt. Morris, Pa., that
featured buckwheat ravioli, salt-rising bread pudding and heirloom blue corn-crusted
trout filet. Each course was accompanied by a compelling story that gave diners a
sense of place and community.

Delicious food with an entertaining story, surrounded by people genuinely engaged in
learning about Appalachian food culture? That's my ideal meal.

And, the couple plans to expand their story concept at Lost Creek Farm.

"We have this vision to make the farm a real destination for food and culinary
exploration around food heritage by creating this food heritage incubator. It's designed
to foster this community around West Virginia food and stories around to West Virginia.

It's a space for people to share ideas and learn from each other and chefs can come in
and learn from home cooks who have been innovating in the kitchen around food and
food traditions, Costello said.

Costello is one of many spearheading this movement to reclaim the Appalachian food
narrative – one that takes pride in the authenticity of our place-based food. Through his
efforts and others, West Virginia is seeing some credit for our diverse, innovative
cuisine.

This initiative could turn this trend into a long-term respect and admiration for the
diverse culinary community in West Virginia. It's time others heard the story of West
Virginia.

Candace Nelson is a marketing professional living in Charleston, W.Va. In her
free time, Nelson blogs about Appalachian food culture at CandaceLately.com.
Find her on Twitter at @Candace07 or email CandaceRNelson@gmail.com.

Spruce and cider braised rabbit with chanterelle mushrooms
This recipe, from Mike Costello, uses meat rabbits raised at Lost Creek Farm. This was
something his grandpa’s family did in Braxton County in the early 1920s.

1 whole rabbit (3-5 lbs), either left whole or quartered.
2 medium yellow onions, coarsely chopped
1 cup Hawk Knob Appalachian Classic or other dry hard apple cider
1 cup rabbit stock (chicken stock can be substituted)
3 large cloves fresh garlic, halved
3 large cloves roasted garlic, halved
2 tablespoons salted butter
6 small (8 inch or less) spruce twigs, with needles plus 2 tablespoons lose needles
2 cups fresh chanterelle mushrooms, stem ends removed
1 tablespoon dry sherry
1 tablespoon salt, additional to taste
1 tablespoon sugar
1/2 teaspoon mustard powder
1/4 teaspoon black pepper, additional to taste
1/4 cup heavy cream (optional)
1/2 cup olive oil

Prepare the seasoning mix: Shred 1 tablespoon of lose spruce needles in clean
coffee/spice grinder, or chop finely. Combine with salt, sugar, mustard powder, black
pepper.

Brown rabbit: Pat rabbit dry, then coat with spice mix. In a medium to large cast iron
skillet or Dutch oven, heat a quarter inch of olive oil. Over medium heat, sear rabbit until
golden brown on each side, approximately 3-4 minutes per side. Remove rabbit from
skillet and set aside.

Prepare braising liquid: Add onions and fresh garlic to skillet, sauté over low to medium
heat until onions are slightly translucent. Combine onions and garlic with one cup of the
chanterelle mushrooms. Deglaze with apple cider, scraping bottom of pan. Add stock,
spruce twigs, roasted garlic and 2 tablespoons of butter. Bring to a low boil.

Braise rabbit: Set rabbit back in skillet and cover. Bake covered at 350 degrees for 45
minutes, or until rabbit is fork tender. Remove lid and bake uncovered for an additional
10 minutes. Return to stove top, heating over low heat, spooning braising liquid over
rabbit for several minutes, until rabbit develops a noticeable glaze.

Sauté chanterelles: While rabbit is braising, toss one cup chanterelle mushrooms with
olive oil and salt to taste. Sauté over medium high heat until mushrooms develop a rich,
golden brown color. Add dry sherry and cook until liquid is absorbed/evaporated.
Finish sauce: Remove spruce twigs and discard. Simmer braising liquid over medium
heat until sauce is slightly reduced and thickened to desired consistency. If desired, add
heavy cream, and reduce further.    

Top with sautéed chanterelles. Serve over grits or mashed potatoes with fresh garden
vegetables.

The season for the wild Appalachian delicacy known as the morel mushroom has come to an end.

Typically found from March until May, depending on the weather, the Morchella ushers in the beginning of spring. I had been prolonging the season — unearthing my stash of dried morels and bringing them back to life with a little bit of water. But, alas, my last morel took its final journey to my tummy.

Worth it.

The wild edible found throughout our West Virginia hills has seen some interest from chefs in large cities — driving up demand and resulting online sales at about $65 per 4 ounces, according to one site.

While they’re now trendy, morel mushrooms have roots in our culinary culture. Mountain people hunt, fish and forage for berries and, of course, mushrooms, creating that strong connection between the land and our people.
ADVERTISING


As a child, I would accompany my grandma through the woods behind her house in search of the elusive morel mushroom, or as my grandma says, “merkels.”

You’ve probably heard morels, “molly moochers” or “hickory chickens,” but in my part of Appalachia, it was always merkels.

Folklore says a mountain family was saved from starvation by eating morels, and thus they were called miracles — or merkels in a strong Appalachian dialect. Some also say the scientific name for Morchella is thought to have derived from “morchel,” an old German word for mushroom, which could have been a source for name merkel.

Whatever the name, these mushrooms became a fixture of my youth in West Virginia.

We would hunt merkels for hours.

“Find the ones that look like a honeycomb,” my grandma would tell me. “Not the smooth ones, those are poisonous.”

In her kitchen, merkels could often be found strung up with fishing line. A small prick from her sewing machine needle in the stem of the mushroom, a quick loop with the line and you can enjoy merkels long into the winter months, if you possess any shred of self-restraint.

Nowadays, my pizza is always topped with mushrooms, and lasagna isn’t lasagna without that touch of umami. Maybe that’s because the love of the mushroom was instilled in me at a young age.

My grandma, now 75, forages less frequently these days. But, along with the love of merkels, she instilled in me pride in our state.

West Virginia is a beautiful place, and while others may take for granted all the incredible — and delicious — gifts it bears, my grandma never did. While she enjoyed hunting merkels, she more so enjoyed being in nature where she could appreciate the birds, the rolling hills and the beautiful flowers. The bounty was a bonus.

And, while my morels may have been the last of the season, you can still get in touch with your foraging roots with chanterelles, chicken of the woods and others as they begin popping up in the upcoming seasons.

Whether to you it’s a morel or a merkel — or something else — I’m not sure a mushroom from any other place would be as tasty.


Candace Nelson is a marketing and public relations professional living in Morgantown. She’s also the author of

“The West Virginia Pepperoni Roll,” a comprehensive history of the unofficial state food, and blogs about West Virginia food culture at CandaceLately.com. Follow @Candace07 on Twitter or email Candace127@gmail.com.


Dorothy’s Fried Merkels

This is the recipe my grandmother made for me as a child. As is the case whenever I ask her for precise measurements, most of the cooking is done by eyeballing the amounts. The following is not fancy, but it’s real. It’s how I grew up eating merkles, and I hope you enjoy.

1 egg

1 cup of flour

mess of morel mushrooms

canola oil

Rinse the morels in cold water to remove loose dirt and insects.

Crack an egg.

Slice the mess of morel mushrooms.

Coat the mushrooms in the egg.

Put the mushrooms in a plastic bag full of flour to coat them.

Pour about 2 inches of canola oil in a skillet and deep-fry it until the mushrooms become crispy, like french fries.

Top with salt and pepper.

Share the bounty with your friends, but if you plan to return again, never tell them where your morels were hiding.

Requirements for this brunch included something quick and near the interstate. She suggested Wild Eggs.

My great grandpa’s kitchen. By the time you came to his breakfast table, you were plenty ready to eat. Maybe you spent the past hour working the fields or gathering eggs from the henhouse. You might have visited your neighbor’s home for fresh milk or butter. 

Everything on your plate would have been made from scratch. And any meal, especially one made by my great grandma, would have included potatoes: home fries, hash browns, mashed potatoes, maybe even potato latkes. You were surrounded by family and friends at the table, sharing your plans for the long day ahead and having one more cup of coffee before heading to town. 

Life for my great grandpa revolved around work and family, making an honest living in a new land. Blessed with pristine streams, and rich soil, he began farming and selling potatoes and produce. He eventually opened the Zel Potato Company, selling his crops at the city’s farmers market. 

As the family grew, breakfast continued to hold its importance, serving as a touchstone between his life in the old country and his new life in America. 

My mother continued this tradition. She brought fresh eggs, stocked our refrigerator with the freshest locally grown produce, and fresh squeezed orange juice. And just like her grandpa’s kitchen, almost every breakfast featured potatoes. 

Wild Eggs believes it can start right where my ancestors left off- serving hard working people and their families with great wholesome food. This legacy will provide the breakfast inspiration for many years to come (Our Story).

Wild Eggs has a few different locations in bordering states to West Virginia, but none in state. The menu features all your breakfast favorites - eggs, waffles, french toast, pancakes, biscuits & gravy, and even salads and sandwiches.

In typical Candace fashion, I went for the stuffed toast (mmm): Stuffed Thick sliced sourdough, sweetened cream cheese, maple syrup, blueberries and strawberries, powdered sugar, cinnamon and whipped cream. These were good, if not a bit too much. They got a little soggy with all the toppings involved.

And, for a side, I got the potato latkes. Good, too! Just wish there was applesauce, as well. All in all, a pretty good meal! Plus, a little bit of everything for everybody.

Grade: B

After trying some BBQ mutton for the first time, we walked literally next door to get some dessert at Big Dipper.

You know I can't help myself when there is ice cream involved.

So, I ordered a caramel sundae, which came as soft serve in a cup with a ton of caramel syrup overtop. They even gave me a little lid for my to-go order. It was good! The ice cream was oddly a bit thicker than you'd expect, but still good. You can't go wrong with ice cream.




Grade: B

You're probably familiar with the variations of BBQ - beef brisket (no sauce) in Texas, a sweeter BBQ in Kansas City, a vinegar-based sauce with pork in South Carolina. 

But, did you know about BBQ mutton in Kentucky? Specifically, in Owensboro.

Thanks to the tariff of 1816, wool production in the then Western United States became profitable and suddenly people found themselves with a lot of sheep on their hands. Any story of the origin of barbecue starts with a meat that is too tough and undesirable to be sold for a profit. Mutton barbecue is no different. Aging sheep who no longer produced good wool became a virtually unlimited resource, but the meat was too tough and too strong tasting to be worth anything so people turned to the tried and true methods of low and slow cooking. In the early days a whole sheep would be cooked for long hours over a low fire. A mixture of salt water would be mopped over it and it would be served up with a dipping sauce of vinegar and hot peppers and stuck between a couple slices of bread. In Kentucky this "sauce" is called a dip, specifically Mutton Dip or Vinegar Dip (Source).

Because it's a thing, I wanted to check it out. So, we went to the most famous restaurant for it: Moonlite Bar-B-Que.

Moonlite is probably the more famous of the pair and has been cooking delicious two-year-old ewes for three generations. Moonlite cooks on a large scale with a very successful catering operation and a dining room that seats 350. While mutton and burgoo are the specialties of the house, most diners take advantage of the 40 foot-long buffet that also features barbecued pork, beef and chicken, ribs, a variety of Southern vegetable specialties and numerous decadent desserts. If you leave Moonlite hungry, it’s your own darned fault.

Moonlite purchases their mutton already quartered and cooks them in four custom-designed smokers for up to 18 hours. Trained pitmasters mop the meat with their special vinegar dip, to flavor and help break down the fibrous sinews of the sheep. True to their Highlands heritage, the closest flavor profile to Moonlite’s dip is Worcestershire sauce. Unfortunately, as the restaurant grew, patrons with allergy issues forced Moonlite to remove the anchovy-paste based Worcestershire from their mix and recreate the flavors using other ingredients.

Traditionally, barbecued mutton is served unsauced at the table with the option to add your own amount of dip to your plate, although the table sauce is usually less concentrated and contains a little bit more tomato in the mixture than the cooking dip.

Mutton is sheep, and it's a staple on Moonlite's buffet menu. So, that made for an easy choice.

The buffet had mutton in a few different ways, none of which I became a big fan of. It has a particular flavor to it - not quite gamey, maybe a little old?

But that didn't stop me from getting my plate full of other goodies, like dressing, mac & cheese and I even got to try sorghum syrup.

Lots of other things were on the buffet - like catfish, burgoo and liver. Different from my typical comfort food choices.


So, definitely cool that they have their own version of BBQ.

But, for me, personally, I might stick to pulled pork or brisket.



Grade: B