table talk / By Malcolm Terence

Acorn Soup

Luna started a second kettle. Laverne Glaze explained that one pot was from tanoak trees and the second from black oak. Sometimes, at basket weaver gatherings, there would be acorn cook-offs and it was all delicious, she said. In a quieter voice she divulged that she always rooted for tanoak.

Frank raked the bed of hot coals and began to carefully arrange the salmon fillets, fall Chinook, by sticking the fat end of the spears into the sand around the heat. Several Indian families from Hoopa, a half hour away, circled the cooks and Charlie Thom, who years ago promoted restoration of the Karuk ceremonies, and started beating a square-shaped drum and singing. The crowd yelled in encouragement, “Mr. Charley.”

When the food was ready, more than 150 people, native and non-native alike, were seated at long tables. Clarence Hostler thanked many people who had helped with the food and delivered a message. “We’ve enjoyed this food for thousands of years but it’s hard to get nowadays. There are locked gates, no trespass signs, marijuana gardens where we could once go freely. We are confronted when we try to gather this kind of food. ‘What are you doing here?’ they demand. My question is ‘What are you doing here?’”

He explained that local natives have been trying to teach the Forest Service, which controls much of the land in the Orleans area, the importance of access to traditional gathering sites. His ancestors suffered wave after murderous wave of Manifest Destiny, the slogan of American expansionism 150 years ago. “I hope this wave,” and he gestured to the young white people in the room, “will work with us.”

He announced that elders would be served first. There was food aplenty. Native diners showed their neighbors how to crack the thin shells of the peppernuts and suggested they dip the seaweed and the salmon into the acorn soup. Everybody agreed that each dish was delicious — and it was not just out of politeness. 

As the dining wound down, Clarence, Frank, Charlie, artist-poet Brian Tripp and several others  put on regalia. Each said a few words and sang a song in the fashion of native ceremonies. The crowd was transfixed and even the smallest children quieted and came to watch.

Me, I grabbed my bowl and got seconds of acorn soup.

Laverne Glaze’s recipe for Acorn Soup:

1 2 3 NEXT PAGE >SHARE