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286 Cultural Mixing in Egyptian Archaeology Veit, U. 1989. Ethnic concepts in German prehistory: A case study on the relationship between cultural identity and archaeological objectivity. In Shennan, S.J. (ed.), Archaeological Approaches to Cultural Identity. London and New York: Unwin Hyman, 35–56. Voskos, I. and Knapp, A.B. 2008. Cyprus at the end of the Late Bronze Age. American Journal of Archaeology 112 (4): 659–684. Voss, B. 2008. Gender, race, and labor in the archaeology of the Spanish Colonial Americas. Current Anthropology 49(5): 861–893. Wade, P. 2005. Rethinking mestizaje: Ideology and lived experience. Journal of Latin American Studies 37: 239–257. Wadell, W.G. 1956. Manetho. Cambridge: Harvard University Press. Weißköppel, C. 2005. "Hybridität"–Die ethografische Annäherung an ein theoretisches Konzept. In Loimeier, R., Neubert, D. and Weißköppel, C. (eds), Globalisierung im lokalen Kontext, Perspektiven und Konzepte von Handeln in Afrika (Beiträge zur Afrikaforschung 20). Münster, Hamburg, New York and Vienna: LIT Verlag, 311–347. Wilkinson, T. 2010. The Rise and Fall of Ancient Egypt. London: Bloomsbury Mixing Food, Mixing Cultures: Archaeological Perspectives Mary C. Beaudry Department of Archaeology, Boston University [email protected] de Wit, T. 2011. Egypt as an 'invention of tradition'? Ethnicity and the emergence of the state. In: Morenz L.D. and Kuhn, R. (eds), Vorspann oder formative Phase? Ägypten und der Vordere Orient, 3500-2700 v. Chr. (Philippika, Marburger Altertumskundliche Abhandlungen 48). Wiesbaden: Harassowitz, 187–208. Introduction T hat eating is a cultural affair is well understood, as is the fact that food preferences and dislikes are so strongly held that when cultures come in contact, they are often at first repulsed by the diets of the strangers they encounter (Bryant et al. 2003: 58–59). Food, identity and cultural values are so closely intertwined that it is not uncommon for members of one group to characterize or even to stereotype another on the basis of an element of their diet—frogs, insects, beans, etc.—perceived as unusual, inedible or lowly (Bryant et al. 2003: 93, 100). Colonizers, conquerors and travelling merchants often brought with them the essentials of their home diet and experimented with elements of new cuisines reluctantly. Throughout their empire in the Americas, the Archaeological Review from Cambridge 28.1: 257–286 Archa e o l o gic al R ev iew f ro m C amb r i d g e - 28 .1 - 2013 288 Mixing Food, Mixing Culture: Archaeological Perspectives Spanish strove to find ways of growing olives for their fruit and for their oil, wheat both for making bread and communion wafers and grapes for wine for communion and more general consumption (Crosby 1972). Yet in some instances the adoption of New World food products by Europeans did not strip such foodstuffs of their association with aspects of indigenous identity. In late seventeenth- and early eighteenth-century Guatemala, for instance, chocolate served as a beverage was central to indigenous women's ritual power. Suspicion among Spanish and indigenous men that women regularly doctored chocolate to serve as a vehicle for sexual witchcraft fostered conflict and mutual antagonism (Few 2005). The strong link between food and identity (cf. Scholliers 2001; Twiss 2007) means that people's dietary habits are closely linked to survival and well-being under circumstances that remove them from their homelands and familiar surroundings. Ship captains involved in the Atlantic slave trade between West Africa and the Americas found that feeding their human cargo foods to which they were accustomed proved more salutary than forcing upon them the diet consumed by European sailors (Hall 1991: 163–167; Opie 2008: 14). Cravings for favoured foodstuffs and longing for return to the homeland feature intensely as elements of homesickness, a malady common among both emigrants and colonists (cf. Matt 2007; Naum 2013). Yet food also played a vital role in cultural mixing and the creation of intercultural variability in contact situations that afforded prolonged transcultural interaction. Here I discuss the archaeological evidence of two processes in which food plays an important role in cultural mixing, incorporation and creolization. My case studies are drawn from the New World, focusing on the Inca incorporation of groups into their empire through feasting and provisioning (cf. Hayden and Villeneuve 2011) and the emergence of creole cuisine in colonial New Orleans, Louisiana. I place these alongside a case study from the Old World of Jewish resistance to the Roman cultural conquest of Palestine through a refusal to adopt a specific Roman dish until the food and the pots used to prepare it could be redefined as local and therefore as culturally acceptable. Archaeological Review from Cambridge 28.1: 287–299 Mary C. Beaudry 289 Commensal Politics: Incorporation Through Feasting Bray's 2003 volume, The Archaeology and Politics of Food and Feasting in Early States and Empires, offers a range of case studies on the subject of commensal politics (cf. Dietler 1996: 88), almost all of which involve the elaborate use of food in quests for status, often involving 'fighting with food' (Hendon 2003; Wiessner and Schiefenhövel 1996). Bray (2003: 94) notes that full consideration of the role of food in imperial statecraft could come about only after archaeologists began to interpret ceramics as culinary tools, instead of focusing on pots stylistically as chronological clues or as symbolic proxies for status and/or ethnicity. Another critical development has been the emergence of an archaeology of food technologies that acknowledges the role of the human body and the senses in the consumption of meals as well as "the social significance and meaning of food production, processing, and especially consumption" (Hamilakis 1999: 39). Bray's interpretation of classic polychrome vessels associated with the imperial Inca state is based upon converging lines of evidence from archaeology and from ethnohistorical accounts about foodways in the sixteenth-century Andean highlands. Diets of both indigenous peoples and the Inca shared common elements—maize, potatoes, quinoa, beans, red pepper, salt and to a lesser extent, meat, along with wild foodstuffs, especially greens and medicinal herbs and, for those who lived near bodies of water, fish, which was eaten both fresh and in dried form (Bray 2003: 97–101; cf. also Krögel 2011: 19–37). Maize was given pride of place in Inca high cuisine while other starchy foods were deemed lowstatus foods. Hence maize was singled out as most appropriate for elite consumption. Such distinctions, along with control over access to food, are foundational in differentiated cuisines in state-level societies (Goody 1982). The greatest degree of differentiation between indigenous and Inca ways of eating, however, was in the types of pottery vessels used for serving food and beverages and the sorts of social events in which they were used. While domestic utilitarian vessels were ubiquitous and Archaeological Review from Cambridge 28.1: 287–299 290 Mixing Food, Mixing Culture: Archaeological Perspectives Mary C. Beaudry 291 vital to everyday food storage, preparation and serving, Inca imperial pottery was more highly elaborated in terms of vessels for serving and consuming foods. Bray (2003: 121) notes that "this emphasis highlights the significance of commensal events in the eyes of the state and the contribution of the vessels themselves to the materialization of the idea of an Inca haute cuisine". Thus, the products of women's labour—local indigenous women who had been specially 'chosen' and imprisoned to work for the state— underpinned the imperial project; in bestowing already valued products, rendered more special because they were made by these 'chosen' women, "the Inca obligated and ritually subordinated state subjects through the complex web of social relations engendered by the gift" (Bray 2003: 132). Inca pottery also had a geopolitical impact, because imperial vessels played a role in the Inca's ability to expand their empire. A comprehensive analysis of the archaeological evidence of the distribution of Inca pottery throughout the extent of the Inca Empire shows an uneven distribution of the serving subassemblage of Inca vessel forms. A limited suite of vessels was found with regularity at sites on the provincial 'edges' of the empire. Bray (2003: 125) interprets this distribution as reflecting the role of a core of three vessel forms; large bottle-like pots (aríbalo) used to store and transport the maize-based Andean beer (chicha), pedestal cooking pots and shallow plates constituted the core suite of Inca vessels for elite repasts, which involved drinking chicha and eating meat and cooked maize kernels or maize-based stews. Bray (2003: 133) makes it clear that warfare and conquest were highly important in the expansion of the Inca Empire, but the "female-controlled domains of cooking, serving, and feasting" were also critical. The process of expansion mobilized gender systems and gendered objects as part of the imperial process and the Inca employed traditional Andean gender ideologies in constructing their empire. This made it possible to expand into new territories by mixing domestic and political realms and blending the principles, behaviours and ideologies of the domestic sphere with those of the public and political realm. Incorporation of provincial territories through elite feasting, provisioning those who laboured for the state, and manipulation of traditional ideology around gender and gender roles thus made it possible in some instances for the Inca to expand their territorial control using food and drink rather than weaponry and warfare. Despite the overwhelming similarities in Andean diet overall and in the types of pottery vessels used in food storage, preparation and serving, there are strong distinctions between Inca state pottery and indigenous pottery: The decision to encode such difference in culinary equipment is probably not accidental. The relationship between the rulers and the people who served them was to an important extent both mediated and materialized through the presentation of food and drink within the context of ritual commensality. In traditional Andean society, cooking and the production of chicha, both for everyday consumption and for offerings…was the primary responsibility of women (Bray 2003: 131–132). Archaeological Review from Cambridge 28.1: 287–299 Colonialism and Creole Cuisine in Eighteenth-Century New Orleans The emergence of creole cuisines, part of the larger process of creolization, provides clear examples of the role of food in cultural mixing. Dawdy's (2000, 2008, 2010; Scott and Dawdy 2011) archaeological and historical research has traced the roots of the emergence of creole New Orleans, Louisiana. Dawdy (2008: 11) attributes creole New Orleans' emergence as a cultural and culinary phenomenon by the early eighteenth century to three factors: the confluence of Enlightenment philosophy invoked in founding and engineering the French colony; cultural creolization arising from a diverse population of Native Americans, Africans, Canadians, Europeans and people from the Caribbean; and what she terms "rogue Archaeological Review from Cambridge 28.1: 287–299 292 Mixing Food, Mixing Culture: Archaeological Perspectives colonialism—the influence of those individuals on the ground who pushed colonial frontiers in their own self-interest" (Dawdy 2008: 11). Creolization here developed in three phases that produced distinctive material traces: "transplantation, closely linked to the French colonial periods (1718–1769); ethnic acculturation, associated with the Spanish colonial period (1769–1803); and hybridization, associated with the antebellum American period (1803–1861)" (Dawdy 2000: 107, 111). During the initial phase, colonists attempted to replicate foodways from the home country and discover which of their familiar crops and foodstuffs would thrive and which would not. The second generation of settlers were native creoles (cf. Dawdy 2000: 108) who began to adapt to and take advantage of New World products, developing a distinctive culture born, in part, out of practical necessity (Scott and Dawdy 2011: 99). Ethnic acculturation brought about the development of new, colonial materials and traditions that combined Old and New World notions, invented traditions and increasingly well-defined economic and ethnic categories. Creole culture in New Orleans was, it seems likely, largely forged in middle- and upper-class households whose economic standing gave them access to the foodstuffs that became closely associated with what it meant to be 'creole' (Scott and Dawdy 2011: 99). Narrative accounts reveal "an obsession with food, taste, and preparation techniques for different native products" while archaeological evidence illuminates ways in which the daily diet was "procured through self-provisioning" (Dawdy 2010: 391–392). Faunal remains from nearly all contexts in early colonial New Orleans reveal a strong preference for wild game (rabbit, swamp rabbit, ducks, turkey, passenger pigeon, turtles) and fish. This is noteworthy because meat from domestic cattle, sheep and pigs was readily available in the markets—percentages of wild game found on lower Louisiana sites in the town and those in the country do not differ; it seems that wild species were equally available in the town's markets, possibly through trade with Native Americans (Scott and Dawdy 2011: 101, 105). Archaeological Review from Cambridge 28.1: 287–299 Mary C. Beaudry 293 As diverse groups of people mingled in early New Orleans, so did elements of their diets. In addition to native wild game, colonists and creoles adopted "the Native American triad of maize, squash, and beans, with the addition of rice (likely imported with the help of knowledgeable west Africans) and perhaps European peas" (Dawdy 2010: 393). They enjoyed maize prepared in many ways, including as beer, brandy, Indian corn stew and cornbread, though the most common dish was made with rice, milk, beans, meat and fish. The beans were likely the common bean native to the Americas, Phaseolus vulgaris, which has been recovered in archaeological deposits in New Orleans and other French colonial sites. Colonial bread was made by African women who pounded soaked corn kernels in mortars using pestles, sifted the flour using baskets made by local Native American women and mixed it with cooked rice before baking it; wheat bread was not widely available except among the wealthy. Dawdy (2010: 394) remarks that "the colonial bread of Louisiana thus reflected another type of food triad: the grains of Africa, America, and Europe". Beyond grains, native plants such as blackberries, raspberries, melons, grapes (wild Concord variety) and squash were incorporated into the creole diet. At times local Native Americans offered to French officials native dishes the French considered bizarre (e.g. bear paws, beaver tail, dog), but diplomacy required that guests accepted and consumed whatever their hosts served them. Reciprocal hospitality was "a catalyst for the exchange of food ideas and the rapid adoption of new items" (Dawdy 2010: 395). Some wild plants, especially herbs such as chamomile, chervil, tarragon, watercress and bay laurel were readily recognized by French colonists and quickly adopted for seasoning sauces and ragouts and for use in medicinal preparations. New to Europeans were peppers and tomatoes, the former native to South America and the Caribbean but brought to New Orleans by West Africans, probably by enslaved cooks. The contributions of Africans, in particular African cooks, tended to be overlooked by observers who recorded the sorts of food they ate in New Orleans, largely because Archaeological Review from Cambridge 28.1: 287–299 294 Mary C. Beaudry Mixing Food, Mixing Culture: Archaeological Perspectives "gustatory experiences of 'wild' foods represented a metonymical consumption of new lands while the deterritorialized African had no inherent tie to colonial consumption other than through labor" (Dawdy 2010: 396). Colonists and creoles found themselves subject to the same sorts of seasonal variation in diet that Native Americans had always experienced, such that the summer menu differed dramatically from the winter one. The heat of the summers made it difficult to enjoy fresh meat, but dried and salted meats were used; fresh fish, however, was abundant at this time. Catfish and redfish, turtles and shellfish (e.g. deep-fried clams) were often eaten in fricassees or bouillabaisses and in late summer, oysters and crawfish (described by one observer as "des ecrevices magnifiques") were consumed with enthusiasm (Dawdy 2010: 399). The archaeological and ethnohistorical evidence from French colonial sites in the Americas reveals that French colonists were more receptive to culinary experimentation and cross-fertilization than British colonists, seemingly an outgrowth of their greater receptivity to cultural mixing of other sorts (Dawdy 2010: 401; Scott and Dawdy 2011: 114). Dawdy (2010: 408) notes that the French way of responding to the world is by cooking it, that different cultural responses to 'foreign food' underscores the fact that "it is difficult to disentangle political disposition from sensory experience" and that "different colonial cultures will produce different bodily logics". French colonists and creoles prided themselves on "the ability to transform [native] ingredients through French preparation methods into something not only palatable but enjoyable"; creole food first and foremost appealed to the senses and the openness to using a wide variety of local resources resulted from "choices guided by sensual values" (Dawdy 2010: 402). As creole chef Babette de Rozieères (2007: 7) puts it, "[w]hen enjoying Creole cuisine, your sense of smell functions at full speed and your tastebuds are constantly stimulated. Its tastes can surprise but they can never disappoint. It awakens the senses and never leaves you indifferent. Its aromas are seductive…". Preparations such as pâtés, sauces, breads, fricassées and bouillabaisses turned 'wild' Archaeological Review from Cambridge 28.1: 287–299 295 foodstuffs into colonial ones and demonstrated that Europeans had the power "to transform America into something civilized and consumable" (Dawdy 2010: 401); the development of creole cuisine was never about 'going native' but was a fundamental colonial practice (Dawdy 2010: 410). Resistance The case of Jewish life in Palestine in the first century BC presents an interesting example of resistance to cultural mixing through food. Berlin's (2005) study of the archaeological evidence from sites throughout the region likely to have been inhabited by Jews indicates strong conformity in material expressions of religion at the household level at rural sites. In Jerusalem, however, the wealthy had adopted decorated table vessels, Italian-style cooking pans and foreign modes of dining. The overall population was "strongly unified in religious practices but sharply divided by cultural ethic" (Berlin 2005: 420). The archaeological record, supplemented by textual evidence, reveals widespread regional developments showing Jewish identity through locally made products, in particular pottery and stone vessels and the workshops for their production that were developed throughout the region. Berlin (2005: 425) sees these developments as permitting what she refers to as 'household Judaism' and she also notes the standardization of pottery jars used to distribute and store Jewish-made wine and olive oil at the same time that presses and production sites for wine and oil sprang up throughout the region. Simultaneously, there was a rise in production of stone vessels that copied imported glazed and silver vessels. Particularly noteworthy are small stone dishes for service and display (Berlin 2005: 433). Such vessels were: …recognizably local, made of the land itself, and—most obvious and important—of a material that was religiously privileged. Stone vessels would have communicated ethnic pride and attentiveness to Judaism. Their Archaeological Review from Cambridge 28.1: 287–299 296 Mary C. Beaudry Mixing Food, Mixing Culture: Archaeological Perspectives appearance demonstrated solidarity (Berlin 2005: 433). conspicuous religious The strong evidence for a systematic replacement of imported vessels with locally produced ones led Berlin to explore 'ethnic' cuisines as indicated by types of cooking vessels. There were three types of cooking vessels: cooking pots, stew pots and casseroles, and pans, each suitable for different preparations and each characteristic of a different regional cuisine (Berlin 2005: 437). Cooking pots were likely used mostly for soups and bean dishes; stew pots and casseroles for stewing or braising larger pieces of food than could be accommodated by cooking pots; and pans, with their low, straight walls, were used for composed dishes "whose ingredients need to bake together" (Berlin 2005: 438–439). Each of these types of vessels has a regional origin and is most common to that region. Cooking pots are found on sites throughout the Near East and the southern Levant from the sixth through the early first centuries BC, coinciding with textual references that focus on recipes for soups and bean dishes. Stew pots and casseroles are common in Greece and on eastern Mediterranean island and coastal sites from the later fifth century BC onward, at the same time that Greek cooking manuals often refer to "hearty preparations of stewed meat, fish, or large vegetables such as cabbage" (Berlin 2005: 439). Pans appear in Italy and Roman colonial sites in Europe and the western Mediterranean from the fourth through to the first centuries BC and are rare in the East. They are associated with a dish called a patina, roughly equivalent to a quiche or frittata. Hence each type of vessel can be linked to a particular 'ethnic' cuisine (Berlin 2005: 439). Jewish households in Palestine possessed large numbers of cooking pots from the late first century BC and stew pots and casseroles began to appear in the third and second centuries BC in Phoenician coastal sites and in the early to mid-first century in lower Galilee and Baulantitis, eventually comprising about one-third of kitchen pottery assemblages. But in Jerusalem and Judea, stew pots and casseroles were rare until the end of the first century AD, at which time Jerusalem potters began to produce them; these were copies of Italian bronze casseroles, but the Archaeological Review from Cambridge 28.1: 287–299 297 locally produced vessels were widely adopted at this time (Berlin 2005: 439–440). Pans were a different story. They were accepted in limited quantities in many parts of the Mediterranean region, but initially only by the wealthy in Jerusalem and Judea. However, they do not appear in the rural settlements there or in ordinary household assemblages (Berlin 2005: 441). Berlin (2005: 442) concludes that "pans were used for Roman cuisines and understood as a vehicle of Roman culture". There was a good deal of variation in dining arrangements among Jews in first-century Palestine, but for the most part an identity formed around "behaviors and attitudes held in common" (Berlin 2005: 468), centering around religious beliefs and practices. The absence of pans from rural Judean settlements suggests that "most Jews were uninterested in preparing the sorts of 'Roman' recipes these vessels allowed" (Berlin 2005: 441). Thus the metonymical relationship between pans and the prepared dishes they were intended to hold means that in resisting Roman conquest (and religious persecution), Jews throughout Palestine rejected both the foodstuff and the vessel necessary for its preparation. Closing Comments Food, because it is so strongly associated with cultural identity, can be seen as both a catalyst for cultural mixing and as a flashpoint for resistance against cultural imperialism. Archaeologists have abundant sources of evidence for the processes involved in cultural mixing through food, the most prevalent being pottery, animal bones, plant remains and textual evidence. There are other ways of learning about people's adoption of new types of food, including stable isotope analysis (cf. Richards et al. 1998). However, such analyses of dietary change seldom make it possible to attribute change in diet to cultural mixing (versus, for instance, moving to a new locale with different resources, adopting imported foodstuffs without coming in contact with the cultures that produced them). Successful studies of the role of food in imperial politics, creolization and even in symbolic resistance require large data sets that span fairly long Archaeological Review from Cambridge 28.1: 287–299 298 Mary C. Beaudry Mixing Food, Mixing Culture: Archaeological Perspectives 299 chronological periods and come from many sites, as was true of the three case studies presented here. Also of import in such studies is a recognition of the significance of food technologies (i.e. perceiving of pots as culinary tools) and of the bodily experiences around food preparation and dining. Adopting new foods is both a cultural and a physical act, involving the senses as much as it involves politics, religion and social positioning. Hamilikis, Y. 1999. Food technologies/technologies of the body: The social context of wine and oil production and consumption in Bronze Age Crete. World Archaeology 31(1): 38–54. References Krögel, A. 2011. Food, Power, and Resistance in the Andes: Exploring Quechua Verbal and Visual Narratives. Lanham: Lexington Books. Berlin, A.M. 2005. Jewish life before the revolt: The archaeological evidence. Journal for the Study of Judaism 36(4): 417–470. Bray, T.L. 2003. To dine splendidly: Imperial pottery, commensal politics, and the Inca state. In Bray, T.L. (ed.), The Archaeology and Politics of Food and Feasting in Early States and Empires. 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