Cranberries and the Stories Stirred In

As much as I cringe when the morning shows start talking about Christmas in early October, and early shopping sales begin to creep in, I have to admit that Thanksgiving is already on my mind… mostly because food is always on my mind. Once it’s officially November, I finally feel permitted to say out loud that I am excited for Thanksgiving. 

I enjoy the holiday for a few simple reasons: food, friends, and family gathering with no other agenda. No shopping, no religious rituals — just people coming together and everyone is welcome at the table.

That said, I also recognize the complicated and painful history of Thanksgiving, especially here on the Island, where I grew up alongside classmates and friends who were members of the Wampanoag tribe. Many American holidays are romanticized, perhaps because the real history — filled with brutality, displacement, and cultural destruction — is harder to sit with. What happened during European colonization is no exception on this land.

Since I can acknowledge this truth, I also have to admit what I cannot know: what the holiday feels like from within the Native community.

I reached out to Juli Vanderhoop, with whom I grew up with and whose son played baseball with my boys. I asked about this American holiday rooted in colonial history and how her community experiences it today.

Juli is an Aquinnah Wampanoag, a tribal elder, and the heartbeat of the small town. Orange Peel Bakery is an example of that, a year-round gathering spot for her delicious, creative baked goods, her pizza nights, and a conduit between the Wampanoag tribal people and the rest of the Island community.

Juli is also a select board member and serves on several boards including the Martha’s Vineyard Community Foundation. She carries a smile that spreads up to her sparkly, bright eyes. She speaks thoughtfully and patiently, even when the subjects are tough.

Juli was joined in the kitchen at Orange Peel Bakery with her two great nieces and sisters, NaDaizja Bolling, Director of the Aquinnah Cultural Center, and Tysonnae Aiguire-Bolling, who also works at the Aquinnah Cultural Center, and is an apprentice with the Wopanaak language reclamation project, tribal artist, eastern blanket dancer, community organizer, and environmental justice advocate. 

Both sisters returned to the place where they felt most at home, where their father’s parents had always summered, and where their mother and their tribal ancestors were from.

The three women were making Concord grape jelly from grapes found on tribal lands. I asked how they feel this time of year.

“That’s a good question,” Juli said. She continued, “Well, this is not our holiday. This is a strange day. We may take a swim in the ocean, and there’s always work, especially in the bakery.” I asked if there are resentments within the community. Juli said, “I wonder how many people really understand the history. When my kids were in school, they were asked, ‘What do your people do on this holiday?’”

She continued, “Why would you single my children out?”, speaking of the teachers, “This is not our time to speak, why would you ask that?” Juli wondered, seemingly more curious than angry.

NaDaizja and Tysonnae agreed. The sisters went to elementary school in Marblehead, MA. NaDaizja remembers, “They taught about Thanksgiving when I was about seven. The teacher said there once were ‘Indians’ and now there are no more; I raised my hand and said, “My mom said I am Wampanoag.” It was dismissed and never spoken about again.

Tysonnae remembers her class setting up a colonial village. “I was wearing a white bonnet, dressed as a pilgrim, and my mother and father were horrified.”

Now the three women stand crowded around the pot on the stove in Juli’s small bakery kitchen. Juli carefully poured the Concord grape juice into the pot. NaDaizja stirred in the sugar, followed by Tysonnae adding the pectin. Juli showed them how to remove the white foam as the grape mixture slowly heated up.

We began talking about the fairy tale we were all taught in elementary school, about the pilgrims and the Native Americans sitting down to dinner together.

 “There are so many things wrong with that narrative,” NaDaizja said, “Including that the Wampanoag people are not even acknowledged as the native participants. So even our most devastating moments, we are being written out of history.” She said the natives are defined as “eastern” in the Thanksgiving story, but that is as far as the story gets.

As we continued to discuss the holiday, the three women said that gatherings are a normal and common part of their culture. Not just a few times a year, but often, and always to give thanks.  

Juli chimed in, “As native people, we need to gather, all of us here on the Island and with other eastern tribes to give ourselves a voice. Gathering is the constant connection to one another and to our cultures.” She continued, “Gathering is the health of our community.”

There are around 1,500 enrolled Gay Head/Aquinnah Wampanoags worldwide. The tribe, as all Native tribes are, vulnerable because of so much land lost. They are fighting to be acknowledged and for their cultural history and heritage to not disappear.

The Island is a rare case of over 12,000 years of continuous native habitation. Today, the Wampanoag tribes of Chappaquiddick and Aquiannah each hold their small slices of the Island, where they work, raise their families, educate, and gather, always giving thanks.

Us Islanders need to protect, embrace, celebrate, and work to keep the original history of Martha’s Vineyard, Noepe, and its people, not just surviving, but thriving.  

Thanksgiving of course is a big holiday, with college kids returning for their first big break from school. Many seasonal homeowners come for their last visit of the year. One thing is common: people will gather, and food is the focus.

It is also the ultimate comfort-food holiday. Though you may try a new New York Times recipe for mashed potatoes one year, you will always have classic mashed potatoes as one of your staples. There is something very reassuring about cooking and eating the same foods every year.

The Island offers many delicious options, including do-it-yourself with tons of locally grown vegetables at farm stands, turkeys at North Tabor Farm and oysters from our local waters. Heat-and-eat options can be had from Black Sheep, Morning Glory, Craft 9, and The Maker to name a few. The Harbor View’s restaurant Bettini creates a big spread if you want to skip all the work, including dishes, and just feast. Orange Perl Bakery is Collaborating with Black Joy Kitchen two provide 2 Heat And Eat options for Thanksgiving: a Harvest Table Menu that reflects indigenous fall foodways and a Black Diasporic menu offering options from Africa, the Caribbean and the American South. 

A key ingredient in any Thanksgiving is always the cranberry sauce. Cranberries are harvested by Wampanoags, from the wild bogs where the tart, bright berry grew. Cranberry Day is celebrated every year on the second Tuesday of October by the tribe.

Maybe cranberries are one of the real truths about the Thanksgiving story.

Many of us grew up eating that infamous canned Ocean Spray cranberry sauce. There was the all-jellied can, opening at both ends so you could push through that one uniform tube of sauce until it plopped onto a plate. I always preferred the whole berry sauce instead.

At one point during my childhood, my grandmother made cranberry sauce on the stovetop. She told me it was easy to make, and since she claimed not to enjoy cooking, I believed her.

Once that lightbulb went off as an adult, I bought a bag of fresh cranberries – and my grandmother wasn’t kidding. The recipe on the bag consisted of one 12 oz bag of cranberries, sugar, and water; cook on a stovetop for 15 minutes. Though that simplicity is classic, I prefer a sauce that is less sweet- I like the tart berry flavor. I also think it’s a great base to work with, but there are many variations, including a raw relish- think fruit pico, or a flavorful, fragrant chutney. That said, I do still keep it simple (as you’ll see in my recipe, below).

Today, thanks to The Open Land Foundation (VOLF), which over many years has restored an organic cranberry bog on Lambert’s Cove Road in Vineyard Haven, the public has access to fresh organic Island-grown cranberries.

Last year, I was able to get some of the last cranberries from the VOLF site online. I kicked myself since I did not get out to harvest my own, but I was relieved I was able to at least buy a few bags.

Here is the basic cranberry sauce I have landed on:

I rinse 1 lb of cranberries and add that to 1/3 cup sugar, 1/3 cup maple syrup, 2 cups of water,  the juice of 1 orange, and the orange zest. I prefer full zest as opposed to grated.

Add all of the ingredients to a heavy saucepan and heat on medium, stirring occasionally for an hour. Always serve at room temperature. The sauce will last for a month or longer in a sealed container or jar. I mention this because I truly love cranberry sauce, and will continue adding it as a side to roasted chicken dinner or duck legs for weeks to come. If you have access to Bon Appétit Magazine, I have several recipes for cranberry sauce in the October 2007 issue. My grandmother was right, I do not think you can screw up cranberry sauce, so don’t hesitate to put the can opener away.

Whatever you choose to do this holiday, and with whomever you choose to do it,  remember we are lucky, so please give thanks. You will feel better.