Culinary cornucopia

With no signature cuisine,New Hampshire serves upthe region's classic tastes

October 29, 2006|Lisa Wangsness, Globe Staff

Every other state in New England, it seems, has a culinary claim to fame. Maine's got lobster. Vermont has maple syrup and cheddar cheese. Rhode Island's got jonnycakes and coffee milk, Massachusetts has Boston brown bread and baked beans and Wellfleet oysters. In Connecticut, there's New Haven pizza and . . . well, nutmeg.

But what meal is the hungry tourist from Kentucky or New Mexico eagerly anticipating when he touches down at the Manchester-Boston Regional Airport? What quintessential food will the Granite State native, stranded on a business trip far from home, close her eyes and longingly recall?

Steve Taylor , the state agriculture commissioner and a living Google of New Hampshire culture, had some sorry news. "There isn't a unifying food or culinary tradition in New Hampshire," he said.

Taylor said the state's craggy, locally centered personality might be partly responsible. "We aren't really a state, we're 237 little republics," he said. "What's the style in Plainfield probably won't fly in Chichester."

He sent us to his friend Helen Brody, author of "New Hampshire: From Farm to Kitchen " (Hippocrene , 2003).

"It's been one of my problems," Brody sighed at the question . "We do it all well," she said, meaning the New England classics -- blueberries, maple syrup, cider, lobster , and, of course, apples. Heirloom apple varieties are coming back "in a big way" thanks to competition from Asia and the Pacific Northwest, she said.

"We may become known for that," she said. "That's what I'm hoping."

She called back later to say the Legislature had recently named the pumpkin the state fruit.

One thing is certain: Traditional Granite State cuisine tends to be uncomplicated and inexpensive , suiting a thrifty citizenry who revile taxes and pay their legislators a miserly $100 a year.

Taylor, for example, said tourists who want a real taste of New Hampshire should drop in on a church supper, where they might find a chicken pie like the ones he remembers from his childhood. Or they could come to a small-town beanhole supper , where locals cook beans in a fire pit for days at a time. Or return in March for sugar on snow: hot maple syrup drizzled on granular snow.

"The surface of it is cold when it hits the roof of your mouth, and you pull it off with your teeth, and in the middle it's warm," Taylor said. "It's just wonderful."

David H. Watters , co-editor of "The Encyclopedia of New England" (Yale University , 2005) and a professor of English at the University of New Hampshire in Durham, had other ideas.

"Fried and pickled eel," Watters said. "Eel spearing was a huge local custom, and almost an industry around the Great Bay, especially in wintertime."

Um, anything else?

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