Liberate the Soup Joumou! Why Haitians Care
“Ahhh sa wap bay la… sa se pa soup joumou machè,” or “What do you think you’re doing? Sweetie, that’s not soup joumou.” Now imagine these words from my loose Kreyòl translation were delivered with disdain and maybe disappointment, an unmistakable scowl, topped with a long stupe. That is usually my aunt’s response when I (natif-natal or Haitian born) merely broach the subject of possibly modifying the soup joumou family recipe. If you are Haitian, and god forbid you are vegetarian or vegan, the person making it might put aside a bowl for you before the beef is added, but everyone around will remind you that’s not the real thing. Deviations are sacrilege. Taboo. In other words, don’t even think about it.
If you are Haitiphile, you know there are variations of the recipe that we brought with us via migration. They are passed down through generations. Haitians are not only fiercely proud of it at home and abroad, but we are madly protective of this dish that connects us to our homeland. On this side of the water, its origin story has inspired children’s books, anthems, poems, a documentary because it is part of our nation’s history. That fact is far from trivial because the Haitian Revolution continues to be silenced, disavowed, and the topic of hardcore racist attacks among academics. Just ask any Haitian Studies historians or scholars.
As with other foodways, the production and consumption of soup joumou reveal aspects of our social practices. Growing up in Haiti, we had a soup tureen that came out of the cabinet once a year. Soup preparation began late at night on New Year’s Eve to be shared on January 1. Bowls are taken to neighbors who, in turn, do the same. When times are rough, especially during the holidays, it is measured by whether one can afford to make soup this year.
All of this to say, it’s not just a soup. It’s more like a sacred ritual.
In the Bon Appétit controversy, the Haitian soup was not only completely stripped of its main ingredients, “gentrified” or “whitewashed,” as many commenters wrote, but the Haitian Kreyòl name was kept along with the backstory tying it to the Revolution. For my Haitian massive who wondered why no patriots were consulted, it turns out Chef Marcus Samuelson did have a tutorial with Haitian experts in Miami years ago. This was, indeed, ‘his take’ on the Haitian recipe, (it does look appetizing). Anyway, apologies followed that contend the thrice-renamed “Pumpkin Soup with Spiced Nuts” is a form of appreciation. Nope. Cultural appropriation. Textbook really if you consider George Nicholas’ definition: “taking or using some aspect of someone else’s heritage without permission or recompense in inappropriate, harmful, or unwelcome ways. The harms include diminished respect for what is considered sacred, improper uses of special or sacred symbols, and the commercialization of cultural distinctiveness.”
Of course, this soup joumou affair, which has had more plot twists than a spy thriller, makes me think about Dave Chapelle’s Unforgiven as I relate to the comedian’s lament on how people take things just because they can. Most egregious to me is that this episode occurred under a diverse leadership at BA. A reminder that cultural appropriation is structural. Furthermore, attempts to shed light on this snafu ignore the cultural specificities at the core of this madness. For example, a vegetarian version of the soup by a US-born Creole Black woman (I see you at NBC Today) is a defacement of another kind.
It may be just a soup to you, it is a lot more to us Haitians, though I am no ambassador, just a concerned compatriot who is also an anthropologist. As laborious as it is to make, it is a nutritional source of pride and joy that not only reflects our sociality but represents the daily ongoing pursuit of Black liberation in the face of white racist structures committed to our physical, spiritual, and symbolic destruction.
In the BA comments of the recipe, an anonymous Haitian woman wrote, “what you have done here is re-colonize a soup, which is by definition anti-colonial.” Indeed, there is a story here about empire, race/blackness, and hierarchies in diasporic encounters practically bubbling over this pot that warrants more engagement than I would take on now. It is encapsulated by the Haitian saying; tout moun se moun men tout moun pa men. Everyone is a person, but not every person is the same. It’s also a tale about power. Who has it, who does not, who is aware of how they wield it and who abuses it?
Bon Appétit and Chef Marcus, if you did not mean to offend, one thing you can do is take a cue from Netflix and delete it. The search engine optimization continues to overshadow our beloved Haitian soup joumou.
The 217th Anniversary of the Haitian Revolution is coming up. Out of respect, decolonize the search engine. Liberate our soup!
