The culmination of my summer trip abroad was the nuptial celebration on the Greek island of Rhodes of Athens native Alexandra Charbi and Jackson native Ashton Williams. Knowing of the sizable outmigration from Rhodes to my mother’s hometown of Montgomery, Alabama — and also Atlanta, Georgia — it seemed incumbent to consider connections between Rhodes and my world.
I could determine little stateside, so I sent an e-mail to Rhodes.
The Nazi roundup of Rhodians was July 20, 1944, with deportation on July 23, 1944. The outrage was to be commemorated while I was in Rhodes. I was issued an invitation as the scion of pioneer Montgomery settlers and attended.
A permanent plaque commemorating victims of the holocaust was displayed near my seat. I recognized a couple of surnames which I had seen in Montgomery. Describing the memorable event in e-mail messages to various family members afterwards, a second-cousin, raised in Montgomery, responded that there were many more.
Most memorials list victims by their first and last names. This one only listed surnames. I had read the first and third columns as surnames, with the second and fourth columns as the first names accompanying the family names to their left — surnames preceding first names in some European countries.
Recognizing Rhodian families in Montgomery whose surnames I know provoked thoughts.
Outmigration from Rhodes occurred early in the twentieth century when the Lost Cause ideology was arguably at its apex. Families from Southern and Eastern Europe were deemed inferior — ditto those emigrating from Mesoamerica, Asia, and Africa. Misconception existed that Anglo-America was an apogee from which others should be excluded; enjoying rights, privileges, and plenty of which others should only dream.
Fortunately only troglodytes descend into risible tropes today: Few are deluded that one culture or people possesses a monopoly on privilege and plenty, one-quarter into the twenty-first century.
The recognition caused consideration of innumerable ethnic and cultural influences in Mississippi and their valuable contribution to the world which we enjoy. I specifically pondered the culinary melange providing pleasure.
African American foodstuffs are central to Southern cuisine. Black-eyed peas, okra, and watermelon accompanied enslaved people during the Middle Passage. Although African Americans suffered unspeakable indignity, their contributions to Southern foodways are immeasurable. African Americans working in Southern kitchens influenced culinary trajectories as profoundly as the foodstuffs accompanying families while forcibly relocating.
Greeks made major contributions to the evolution of the local palate. The economic ascent of many commenced as entrepreneurs operating restaurants — across North America. I cannot recount all of the Greek emigrants who opened legendary Jackson eateries. The Elite, Lamar and Mayflower are among those defining how and what we eat.
Chinese, Indian, Japanese, Mexican, and Thai are among compelling cuisines pursued dining out, today: Steak and potatoes are as common, contemporaneously, as the engine under the hood of the 1965 Mustang that the publisher drives — designed for lead fuel and uninhibited emissions, 60 years ago.
Croatians on the coast fished, contributing the seafood that was the ne plus ultra of meals in my boyhood home in Northeast Jackson. Emigrants from Indochina followed, after Croatian progeny entered other professions with conspicuous success.
Anyone knowing Greenville has eaten tamales at Doe’s Eat Place — indication that Mexicans and their foodways were present well before migration from south of the border after the Civil Rights Act of 1964 and the Voting Rights Act of 1965 liberated African Americans from menial work.
Chinese and Italians are among other emigrant groups contributing mightily to Delta diets.
Many are the emigrant groups which memorably moved Mississippi palates from monotonous meat and potatoes to sophisticated dining. Friends visiting from elsewhere rave about the culinary quality experienced here.
I ate that which I routinely regale long before it was described as a Mediterranean diet or deemed healthy. I proclaim hosanna in the highest, celebrating the multicultural, multiethnic influences which transformed Mississippi into a memorable place in which to dine.
Jay Wiener is a Northsider
