Cooking hog cracklins at the Womack syrup shed in St. Helena, Louisiana

Hog Crackins
Photo Credit: Dr. Antoinette Harrell

 In the past, traditional practices such as hog killing were communal events that contributed to strengthening family and community bonds. Families would utilize large cast-iron pots, typically employed for washing clothes, to cook hog cracklins. Aside from that, the head of the hog would often be boiled to produce hog head cheese. I watched Robert McClendon cook hog cracklins.

Robert tended to his hog cracklins, the golden pieces sizzling and popping in the pan. He’d sit there, a master of his craft, sharing stories of how they used to butcher hogs and transform them into these savory treats. Upon asking if he killed the hog himself, he said no, I brought back the fat from the slaughterhouse said Robert. He waited patiently until the cracklins were ready for the men to sample. Some of them reminisced about the old days on the farms where they grew up. "For many, those days are long gone, carrying their loved ones who taught them the craft with them. It is at times like this that those memories come surfacing; otherwise, the memories fade with the past."

Robert McClendon
Cookng hog cracklins
Photo Credit: Dr. Antoinette Harrell

Sweet potatoes baked in the oven are the epitome of southern comfort

Baked Sweet Potatoes 
Photo Credit: Dr. Antoinette Harrell

 I have fond memories of my childhood, growing up in my grandparents' charming wooden-framed home, which was located on a long stretch of road known at that time as Route 306 in Amite, Louisiana. In the den, there stood an old pot-belly stove, its presence both practical and comforting. The firewood was always stacked neatly in the corner, ready for use. This stove was not merely a source of warmth for the room; it also served as a versatile tool for preparing hearty soups and stews, especially on the coldest winter days, when its warmth and the aroma of cooking filled the home with a sense of coziness and togetherness.

Mama Phine, my beloved grandmother, had a unique way of baking sweet potatoes: she would place them in the ashes to cook. As a child, I often found this method curious and unfamiliar, wondering why she chose such an unconventional approach. However, the results were always extraordinary. When the sweet potatoes emerged from the ashes, they were incredibly delicious. On occasion, they would caramelize, creating a sweet, gooey texture that was my absolute favorite. The rich, sugary flavor of those caramelized potatoes was a treat that lingered pleasantly on my taste buds.

During one of my visits to the Womack Syrup Making shed, I came across a patch of sweet potatoes. I observed Richard Womack as he prepared the potatoes for baking. At first, I assumed he was going to place them inside the clay stove for baking. However, to my surprise, he positioned them on top of the red clay stove to bake. Initially, I thought they were simply resting there, but Cedrick Womack clarified that Richard was, in fact, baking the sweet potatoes on top of the stove. 

The gate of memories swung open, and I found myself immersed in thoughts of my childhood, when I watched my grandmother bake those delightful homegrown sweet treats. Those days, though marked by humble beginnings, were filled with a beauty and simplicity that still resonate deeply with me. The vibrant hues of the sweet potatoes, paired with the earthy tones of the clay, evoked in me the image of a masterful work of art. Richard, with great care and precision, honed his craft in baking these delectable treats. Around him, a group of men sat patiently, eagerly anticipating the arrival of those naturally sweet and savory delicacies.

You can find homemade teacakes, cracklings, grits, eggs, smoked sausage, and biscuits in the Womack Syrup Making shed. Oh, and don’t forget the hot kettle of coffee brewing! It a time where family and friends come together once a year to enjoy what they do. A tradition that the Womack Family want to maintain as long as they health will allow them to.