09/23/26

First Foods (key concept, Sept 23)

“First foods” involves those plants, agricultural practices, and food systems with a long history in a particular community. First foods are a staple crop, but their meaning and implementation often go far beyond consumption. “First foods” comprise a central element of a community’s relationship to the land, and communities frequently come together in the cultivation, production, distribution, and consumption of its first foods. Beyond comprising a core part of a group’s foodway, first foods are often important to cosmological, medicinal, and philosophical practices, and they are frequently integral to rituals, celebrations, and livelihood.

With reference to maize and the Haudenosaunee (the Iroquois) of North America, as well as potatoes and the Quechua and Aymara peoples of the Andes, Kaylena Bray and Melissa K. Nelson clarify that “first foods” are specific to a particular ecosystem and cultural tradition: “They represent livelihoods and age-old traditions that bring people together around food cultivation, production, and eating. And they serve as valuable entry points from which we can understand the vast landscape of cultural beliefs, customs, and traditions of Indigenous peoples around the world” (48). Similarly, Peña et al observe that recovering “first foods” is a central component of recent alternatives to globalization. They define first foods as “food and foodways grounded in the ancient millenary knowledge of Indigenous peoples and based on our relations with plants, animals, soils, water, and our use of these for cooking eating, and sharing food” (xx). Peña et al note that, by returning to first foods and related practices, Indigenous communities evade “the subjugated spaces of the global commodity chains that characterize the neoliberal capitalist agri-food system” (xx).

*Outside of Indigenous Studies, the concept of “first foods” often refers to the early liquid or semi-solid foods that are fed to babies. Breastmilk and baby food (e.g. vegetable or fruit puree) are typical first foods in this non-specialized sense.

Bibliography (works cited/consulted)

Bray, Kaylena, and Melissa K. Nelson. “Revitalizing Native Foodways.” Earth Island Journal, vol. 30, no. 3, 2015, pp. 48-49.

Donatuto, Jamie, and Eric E. Grossman, John Konovsky, Sarah Grossman & Larry W. Campbell. “Indigenous Community Health and Climate Change: Integrating Biophysical and Social Science Indicators,” Coastal Management, vol. 42, no. 4, 2014, pp. 355-373.

Peña, Devon G., et al. “Introduction: Mexican Deep Food: Bodies, the Land, Food, and Social Movements.” Mexican-Origin Foods, Foodways, and Social Movements: Decolonial Perspectives, edited by Devon G. Peña, Luz Calvo, Pancho McFarland, and Gabriel R. Valle, U of Arkansas P, 2017, pp. xv-xxxiii.

09/21/26

Nixtamalized Poetry: Foodways in the Borderland

(Sample post by Tamara)

When Rubí Orozco Santos discusses her new project, she explains that she proposed to create a new set of poems inspired by “the practice of nixtamalization in the borderland.” This metaphor stayed with me, as it seems particularly generative and nuanced for many reasons. First, as Orozco Santos points out, nixtamal comes from Nahuatl and means “formless dough.” Thus, the word contains both alteration and enhancement (nixtamalization as the chemical softening and enrichment of corn) and potentiality and formlessness (the dough has not yet been shaped and cooked). This made me think of poetry. Both processes take crude materials (inedible corn, words) and turn them into something pleasing and palatable and nourishing. And yet, what emerges in both cases is unfinished. The “unformed dough” needs additional labour (rinsing, hulling, grinding, shaping, cooking) to be edible while the poetry needs an audience (to be read, and in some cases read aloud; to be ‘chewed’ and contemplated). By conceiving of her poetic work as ‘nixtamalized,’ Orozco Santos invites us to participate in the creation of the work.

Later, she observes that the alkaline process varies based on its geographical location; in the U.S. Southwest, juniper ash is used while the Olmec civilization employed oyster shells. I recently read that, in Chiapas, they use snail shells for this process (Chiapas 329). This detail underscores how the local environment and knowledge systems are integral elements of the process, and thus, a widely used and far-flung technique is grounded in a particular area and community. Similarly, Orozco Santos situates her work—“the nixtamalized poetry of the borderlands”—in a Mesoamerican past, while also nodding at the new roots she has established just north of the Río Bravo/Grande.

Reflecting on all of these associations, nixtamalization emerges as a particularly powerful way to think about creativity and life in the borderlands. Did you identify other reasons that this metaphor is so potent to think through “foodways and wordways”?

321 words

Bibliography

Chiapas, viaje culinario. Secretaría del turismo, 2014.

Marrufo, Richie David, host. “Episode 35: Rubí Orozco Santos.” The BWOMS Podcast, episode 35, Power at the Pass, soundcloud.com/bwoms/ep35.

09/14/26

Gossip, Drudgery, and Disciplinary Bias

(Sample post by Tamara)

In Witches, Witch-Hunting, and Women, Silvia Federici traces how, prior to the sixteenth century, the term gossip was used to denote feminine forms of community, care, and exchange. In premodern England, gossip implied “companions in childbirth” (35), designating the close friends and relatives of a pregnant woman who gathered to care for and accompany her during labour. The term’s meaning soon expanded to signify close-knit circles of women that maintained a life and community outside of their marriage (36). Through these relationships, women exchanged crucial information, such as medicinal, social, and cultural knowledge, and gossip comprised a means of memory keeping (41). Federici examines 16th- and 17th-century plays, historical treatises, and legal documents to show that men were increasingly threatened by women’s tight friendships, and she points to literature, laws, and torture devices that evidence men’s concerted efforts to rein women in and isolate them. Concomitant to these efforts, the meaning of gossip shifted from an empowering feminine social network to petty chatter (38).

I offer this foray into the etymological roots of gossip as a mode of commenting on Warren Belasco’s “Why Study Food?” (2008). Belasco’s chapter opens by offering a rundown of why food, and food consumption in particular, have not been given “serious” (3) attention in academia until recent years, including a privileging of the mind over the body (2), ingrained gendered bias against all things domestic (3), and the perception that food is “gross” (3). While I found the chapter convincing and provocative, the portrayal of women’s work in the kitchen as mere “drudgery” (3-4) falls prey to the same disciplinary biases that Belasco seeks to critique. Reading Belasco with Federici reminds us that, while arduous, food preparation and similar activities offer women (or anyone who finds themselves in a kitchen!) a chance to share knowledge, establish community, and exchange vital information for thriving and surviving under patriarchy. Trained as a Historian at the University of Michigan and Professor Emeritus in the University of Maryland BC American Studies Department, Belasco can be forgiven for these shortcomings. But recognizing them will hopefully help me be aware of my own disciplinary and cultural limitations while we approach the study of maize together this semester.

366 words

Belasco, Warren. Food: The Key Concepts. Berg, 2008.

Federici, Silvia. “On the Meaning of ‘Gossip.’” Witches, Witch-Hunting, and Women. PM Press, 2018, pp. 35-43.

09/9/26

I am from radishes (Tamara)

I am from radishes from rolling Flint Hills and Lake Shawnee. I am from potted basil— versatile, tender. Fragrant. From bumblebees will not hurt you From Ruth and Genevieve. From frankincense and heirloom tomatoes. I am from the whisk blending, aerating. From southern gravy, Sourdough, and Chinese takeout on Christmas.

Hi! I’m Professor Tamara Mitchell (she/her/hers). I research and teach Latin American Literatures and Cultures in the Department of French, Hispanic and Italian Studies here at UBC. Outside of work, I like gardening, FaceTiming with my nieces and nephews, spoiling my cats (Gigi, Mago, and Zaza), and running (I’m training for my first marathon right now!). I also love reading… Right now I’m reading Punto de cruz (Cross Stitch) by the Mexican author Jazmina Barrera. I’m always looking for new books to read, so feel free to suggest your favourite!

I’m looking forward to this course for many reasons. The most obvious reason–I love food! Food is central to life. It creates community, engages all of our senses, is a necessity universal to all of humanity. Furthermore, as climate change accelerates, the scarcity of food is becoming an increasingly pressing issue (Neslen). Our focus on maize and milpa as key aspects of Mesoamerican foodways will give us a chance to think about the rich history and urgent present issues related to food in Latin America.

Works cited

Barrera, Jazmina. Punto de cruz. Almadía, 2022.

Neslen, Arthur. “Climate Change ’cause of most under-reported humanitarian crises.’” The Guardian, 21 February 2019, www.theguardian.com/science/2019/feb/21/climate-change-cause-of-most-under-reported-humanitarian-crises-report-finds.

“I am from” poem adapted from Rubí Orozco Santos, @tradicionessanas. Please compose a blog post with your own “I am from” poem and a short bio that tells me and your classmates a little about you!

Gigi, Mago & Zaza all cuddled up!
09/8/26

Welcome!

¡Hola y bienvenides a LAST315! We’ll be using the blog throughout the semester to reflect on readings and discuss course materials before/after class. Your first task will be to compose and post your own “I am from” poem to begin thinking about our relationship to food and the land. See Tamara’s “I am from radishes” for an example (instructions are under Canvas Assignments).

Looking forward to learning together this term!