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    <front>
        <journal-meta>
            <journal-id>JFRR</journal-id>
            <journal-title-group>
                <journal-title>Journal of Folklore Research Reviews</journal-title>
            </journal-title-group>
            <issn pub-type="epub">2832-8132</issn>
            <publisher>
                <publisher-name>IU ScholarWorks</publisher-name>
            </publisher>
        </journal-meta>
        <article-meta>
            <article-id pub-id-type="publisher-id">38599</article-id>
            <title-group>
                <article-title>Joshua Clegg Caffery - Review of Marcie Cohen Ferris, The Edible South: The Power of Food and the Making of an American Region</article-title>
            </title-group>
            <contrib-group>
                <contrib contrib-type="author">
                    <name>
                        <surname>Joshua Clegg Caffery</surname>
                        <given-names/>
                    </name>
                    <aff>Indiana University</aff>
                    <address>
                        <email></email>
                    </address>
                </contrib>
            </contrib-group>
            <pub-date publication-format="epub" date-type="pub" iso-8601-date="2021">
                <year>2015</year>
            </pub-date>
            <product product-type="book">
                <person-group>
                    <name>
                        <surname>Marcie Cohen Ferris</surname>
                        <given-names/>
                    </name>
                </person-group>
                <source>The Edible South: The Power of Food and the Making of an American Region
                </source>
                <series></series>
                <year iso-8601-date="2021">2014</year>
                <publisher-loc>Chapell Hill</publisher-loc>
                <publisher-name>University of North Carolina Press</publisher-name>
                <page-range>496 pages</page-range>
                <price></price>
                <isbn>978-1-4696-1768-8 (hard cover)</isbn>
            </product>
            <permissions>
                <copyright-statement>Reviewers retain copyright and grant JFRR the right of first publication with the review simultaneously licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution License that allows others to share or redistribute reviews with an acknowledgment of the review's original authorship and initial publication JFRR.</copyright-statement>
            </permissions>
        </article-meta>
    </front>
    <body>
        <fig id="f0" orientation="portrait" position="anchor">
            <alt-text>dishes on a table.</alt-text>
            <graphic xlink:href="The Edible South.jpg"/>
        </fig>
        <p>Although entitled <italic>The Edible South: The Power of Food in the Making of an
                American Region</italic>, Marcie Cohen Ferris’s culinary concordance to southern
            history constantly reminds us that what is edible is not always nourishing, that the
            power of food is often found in the absence of it, and that food has often been key to
            the South’s undoing, as well as its making. Not a book about southern foodways per se,
            Ferris’s sprawling survey is really a re-staging of various key dramas of southern
            history, with food as the key prop. Along the way, she provides an account of the
            ongoing fetishization of southern foodways, a tale that begins in the outdoor kitchens
            of the plantation and continues in uncanny ways in the glossy pages of <italic>Garden
                and Gun</italic> and in the general rhetoric of neoagrarian southern revivalism. As
            is often the case with studies of southern culture, <italic>The Edible South</italic>
            wrestles with these dueling and sometimes intertwining narratives. It should appeal to
            folklorists interested in the southern appetite, or at least to folklorists interested
            in prevailing appetites for all things southern.</p>
        <p>Ferris cautions us in the introduction that the book is not an encyclopedia. It does
            function as a handbook or a guidebook, however, and it reads more like a travel
            narrative than a scholarly monograph. But the landscape here is historical, with the
            book divided chronologically into three sections: Old South, New South, and Modern
            South. The first section focuses primarily on the role of food on the plantation, and
            Ferris treads familiar ground in highlighting various conflicting accounts of plantation
            sustenance. Through the lens of WPA slave narratives and the accounts of Northern-born
            governesses and European travelers, Ferris reveals a fraught culinary world that struck
            some as idyllic, pastoral, and bountiful, others as sumptuous and decadent, and still
            others as barbaric and repressive. Although it is not her theme, Ferris alludes
            occasionally here and throughout to the folk roots of southern cuisine and to historical
            rationales for those roots: West African precedents for the consumption of leafy greens
            and methods of rice preparation, for instance, or the suitability of pork for southern
            climates, terrains, and economies.</p>
        <p>The story progresses with an overview of the Civil War through the lens of food and
            hunger. Despite the South’s long growing season and rich game resources, its inability
            to adequately or efficiently supply its army or its populace during the war led,
            directly and ironically, to its defeat by Union forces, who were often well-provisioned
            by an industrial food network rich in canned protein. Close examinations of specific
            scenarios, such as the Siege of Vicksburg, provide vivid illustrations of her point. The
            section ends with chapters on Reconstruction, which focus primarily on the efforts of
            white southerners to deal with a new home economy in which food was suddenly not cheaply
            produced by slave labor. Here, too, in Reconstruction-era cookbooks, Ferris surveys
            early precedents for the nostalgic fetishization of the Old South’s domestic
            economy.</p>
        <p>In the second section, The New South, Ferris chronicles the mixed legacy of various
            federal, industrial, educational, and philanthropic efforts to reform and remediate
            Southern agriculture and the Southern diet. Even as the Rockefeller foundation,
            extension agents, land grant colleges, settlements schools, and Northern scientists
            promoted canning, empowered southern women through a progressive system of Domestic
            Science, and made steps towards eliminating seemingly epidemic pellagra, industrialized
            mechanization and the crop lien system robbed food of its nutrients and manual laborers
            of their jobs, often leaving small tenant farmers in inescapable debt. In these
            chapters, Ferris documents how federal programs and New Deal propaganda intersected with
            a burgeoning counter-industrial southern tourism market and how this meeting contributed
            both to various types of ethnic regionalism and, in some cases, to ethnic stereotyping.
            Just as Lyle Saxon’s regional collections from “Creole Country,” for instance, bolstered
            a regional identity expressed partially in southern folkways and foodways in particular,
            a darker, parallel longing for a prelapsarian Old South became incarnate in the coon
            songs of Tin Pan Alley and in increasingly prevalent Aunt Jemima and Dixie-branded
            goods—yet another stage in the ever-expanding commodification of symbolic
            southernness.</p>
        <p>In the final section, the Modern South, food is the axis along which Ferris explores the
            legacy of Jim Crow, the Civil Rights movement, segregation, desegregation, and the
            food-based programs of the Great Society, which, like the benevolent programs of the New
            Deal, left a mixed legacy. Ferris is at her best here, skillfully illuminating the
            degree to which the crucial struggles of the Civil Rights movement were waged around
            basic food-related issues, and particularly around the question of who could and who
            couldn’t eat where. The chapters on lunch counter protests, sit-ins, and the 1961
            Freedom Rides are the book’s most poignant. This section concludes with an extended
            analysis of the contemporary New Regionalism in Southern cooking, with particular focus
            on the movement’s origins in both the New American cuisine of the 1980s and the
            counter-cultural, local, and organic food movements of the 1960s and 1970s. Ferris’s
            tone as she discusses these trends flickers from a foodie’s gushing approval to a
            historian’s wry skepticism. There is so much to love, after all, in the sumptuous notion
            of <italic>terroir</italic>, in the cultural insurgent’s DIY desires, and in the
            mystically creolized roots of southern cuisine; but against the backdrop of Ferris’s
            involved tale, these culinary imaginaries seem both hopelessly bourgeois and eerily
            similar to an antebellum agrarian idyll. The New Regionalism may bewitch us, but Ferris
            seems to ask, haven’t we heard this sort of thing before? Are we truly progressing or
            are we trapped yet again in a Dixie feedback loop that tends to distort, invert, and
            recycle certain problematic tropologies inherent in Southern culture and the discourses
            surrounding it? In posing these questions, Ferris recapitulates a point that comes to
            bear in many studies of the American South: for better or worse, and despite all the
            spanking newness of various progressive southern enterprises, old times there are not
            forgotten.</p>
        
        <p>--------</p>
        <p>[Review length: 996 words • Review posted on May 4, 2015]</p>
        
        
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