Frybread Chronicles

Everything and everyone has outside influences that mold ones character and perceptions in life. So lets just say we are a piece of Frybread, Bannock or Sopapilla. Right off the top, frybread shows the white influence in out lives. After all if you recall the history of flour you will remember that many Native’s died from eating this weird white mans food. The People were starving to death on the rez as it was. They would eat it as it came from the soldiers in sacks, raw flour. I hear many stories about Frybread but so old timers tell a story about how people died from eating this white flour that would turn into a rock in peoples bellies. Then how the soldiers taught The People how to use and prepare it. After all we did not have flourmills or fields of wheat. So get over the “Traditional Foods” angle, it was traditional AFTER conquest. This is supposed to be a “Fun” article anyway. But our history hurts my heart every time I think about it. It’s that sorrow thing we all carry I think eh.

Hopefully you get my drift about outside influences. I’ll use myself as an example. Since I have Sicilian, Jewish and Greek influences, I’m more a Garlic Pita Matzo Frybread. Though I’m Native I know I’m influenced by these cultures since I lived, ate and laughed with these people a good portion of my life. Many I consider family and would die for them if I had to. They also taught me that there are wonderful and caring white human beings out there. They were a different shade of white in a way, maybe no color at all. I make Calamari to die for by the way. When I’m not around my people I gravitate towards these cultures since I’ve found sanctuary with them in the past. And well, I love the cuisine. Ain’t nothing but a meatball Paisan.

So Eh!

What kind of Frybread are you?

Are you Pumpernickel, Rye Frybread?

Or a Blintz, Garlic Frybread?


Creativity is the byproduct of a fertile mind

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