RECLAIMING CULINARY HERITAGE

Foods and flavours

One of the ways the Mi’kmaq are reclaiming their original customary practices is through the sharing of food. Nova Scotia is an ocean-bound land. In their 144,000-plus years thriving on these ancestral lands, the Mi’kmaq adapted perfectly to that geography. They spent much of the year on the coast, harvesting the abundant foods available there.

Huge schools of salmon migrated upriver in the spring. These were caught and smoked for future use. Abundant shellfish, such as clams, were plentiful and easily accessible just by digging in the sand. Squid and lobster were important in the Mi’kmaw diet, as were larger prey such as porpoise, seals, and even small whales.

Inland, the Mi’kmaq hunted caribou and moose, once plentiful on the mainland. They collected blueberries and dried them. Where rivers ran from lakes, the Mi’kmaq built weirs to catch migrating eels. Much of this cornucopia was dried and smoked for the winter when prey was harder to hunt.

Today, Mi’kmaq cuisine includes local seafood or wild meats with flavours of the forest and the sea. Traditional foods can be simple and closer to original dishes, especially when prepared in home kitchens for gatherings and celebrations. Eel is still a Mi’kmaq delicacy, but it’s also a food prepared and shared as a sign of respect and status at important occasions. You might find it grilled, pan fried, smoked, or in a pie or stew.

“Stew is a traditional food-making process,” says Geordy Marshall. “We’d keep rocks hot in the fire, clean them off, then transfer the hot rocks into a cooking pot. Whatever ingredients we had would be turned into a stew, whether a seafood stew, a wild game stew, or maybe even vegetable stew.”

Marshall is a graduating student at Culinary Institute of Canada in P.E.I. who learned a love of cooking from his grandmother in Eskasoni. He learned some techniques from stories told by Elders. He calls on these stories to create his own techniques and recipes that honour traditional methods and ingredients. Marshall recognizes that the Mi’kmaw diet has undergone enormous change. Many wild foods are no longer available. At the same time, the Mi’kmaq adopted and adapted some settler foods, which have become part of more recently developed Mi’kmaw traditions.

Mi'kmaw food and traditional recipes were very versatile based on the season and ingredient availabilty. Nothing was wasted and it was always shared.

Lusknikn and bannock are simple breads that became traditional in Mi’kmaw homes and at gatherings after settlers introduced them. One variety is called four-cent bread, named for the price of the ingredients. These breads are baked or fried, sometimes even snaked around a maple branch and cooked over an open fire. When hot, they’re smeared with jam, butter, or molasses. Today, they’re an important part of feasts on many occasions.

Original or adopted, all Mi’kmaw foods tell a story, whether it’s of the times before first contact or of the impact of settler culture on Mi’kmaw customs. Eel stew is an ancient customary dish Marshall’s grandmother still prepares, but she’s just as fond of serving potatoes. For Mi’kmaw cooks, adapting to changing conditions is as important as honouring the past.

Mi'kmaw food and traditional recipes were very versatile based on the season and ingredient availabilty. Nothing was wasted and it was always shared.

Photo: Bruce Murray, VisionFire

Mi’kmaw cooks and chefs like Geordy Marshall who have trained at culinary schools and practised in commercial kitchens across Canada and beyond are leaning into their traditions to create exciting new Indigenous culinary experiences. This new generation of cooks is rediscovering original customary practice. They’re combining a passion for their Mi’kmaw heritage with new techniques and approaches to create exciting new menus.

“The Mi’kmaw cuisine is mostly about philosophy and product utilization, more than having attachments to certain ingredients,” says Marshall. One important part of that philosophy is sharing foods. One family might hunt a moose, another might gather lots of mussels. All are shared in a close-knit community like his, says Marshall.

The range of foods available to today’s cooks has changed greatly since pre-contact times. Caribou no longer live in Nova Scotia and the mainland moose is endangered. However, lobster, squid, eel, and shellfish are widely available. Although wild-caught Atlantic salmon is no longer harvested, some Mi’kmaq use farmed Atlantic salmon instead, which they might plank before an open fire and glaze with local maple syrup and served with wild blueberry sauce.

Simple is often best, but Mi’kmaw chefs are also going to the next level with their creations, drawing inspiration from the customs and traditions of their people. Here’s the menu from a recent mawiomi: slow-roasted venison loin with celeriac purée, quick-seared calamari with a light bone jus pine aroma, and pit-fire, boiled, saltwater lobster with cornbread purée and maple duck bacon. While many of these ingredients are original to the Mi’kmaw people, there’s a heavy contemporary influence on the preparation methods.

Mi’kmaw restaurants are rare, but at a restaurant such as Kiju’s in Membertou on Cape Breton Island, Mi’kmaw-inspired cuisine is part of the menu. “Kiju” means mother in the Mi’kmaw language and honours the role of women as the fire keepers who fed the family. Kiju’s special, three-course Mi’kmaw dinner starts with a four-cent bread skillet that comes with spinach, artichoke, and cream cheese. The main course is cedar planked salmon with a mandarin, red onion, and blackberry salata. For dessert, there’s wild blueberry cake with sweet cream and local mint.

There’s a lot of history in a menu like this. Ingredients from pre-contact times blend with foods adapted over the past 500 years. Current culinary styles, techniques and preferences influence the way Mi’kmaw foods are prepared and presented. While these recent takes on traditional foods are a departure from original ingredients and their uses, they have their roots deep in an honoured past. *