From Georgia Coast to Louisiana Riverside
Chefarmer Matthew Raiford and alchemist Jovan Sage take a slow, organic approach to southern cuisine
There is only a handful of jobs that allow a person to demonstrate reverence for the land on which he or she lives. On his résumé, the chef for our December 8 Supper Club can count three. “The three hardest jobs in life,” said Matthew Raiford. Ten years in the army, defending his country, were followed by CIA training—the Culinary Institute of America, that is, which fittingly was established for World War II veterans in 1946. “The CIA is all about knowing where your food comes from and knowing your farmers,” said Raiford. He happened to know a few farmers already. Down in Brunswick, Georgia, which hugs the state’s southeast coast, five generations of his family had owned and farmed the same land since 1874. It’s where Raiford grew up. “When I left for the military, I said I was never coming back to the South,” said Raiford. “I’m a child of the ‘70s and ‘80s. It wasn’t the South everyone loves to hear about right now. But I’m older and wiser. I realized I needed to come home.”
Twenty-eight years after he left, Raiford returned to Georgia in 2011; he and his sister, Althea, are the sixth generation to farm this acreage, which today is called Gilliard Farms after their mother’s family. “My children harvest, plant, and eat from the crop,” said Raiford, who is certified as an ecological horticulturalist by the University of California’s Santa Cruz Center for Agroecology and Sustainable Food Systems. When we spoke in early November, he’d learned the night before that an eighth generation is expected next summer.
The Raifords’ Gullah and Geechee ancestors, who arrived to the Lowcountry on slave ships and held fast to their agricultural traditions, would appreciate the slow and loving way in which the organic farm is tended. “We still don’t have a tractor!” said Raiford. “I want my children and even my great-grandchildren to be able to say, ‘Here’s what we’ve held onto.’”
His fiancé, Jovan Sage, has her own Southern heritage, and possibly even deeper roots in her relationship with the earth. She’s a doula, an alchemist, an herbalist, a wellness coach, and the founding president of the Savannah chapter of Les Dames d’Escoffier, the esteemed international society for women in the food industry.
Sage grew up around her family’s independent coffeehouse in Kansas City, Missouri, “a very international city.” By the time she moved to New York City, many of the world’s flavors were already familiar. Her work as a community organizer in New York still resonates in the cooking classes and workshops she helps lead at Gilliard Farms. “It gave me a deeper appreciation for what it takes for people to feed themselves or feed their families. So many don’t have access to fresh produce or international flavors unless it came from a grandma or an aunt.”
In 2012, she met Raiford in Torino, Italy, at a Slow Food International event, during Sage’s tenure as Director of Engagement for Slow Food USA. She moved south in 2014 to join Raiford on the farm. “She’s our chicken whisperer,” he said. The farm’s 125 chickens have been raised by Sage from the egg.
[Read more about one of Louisiana's last secret spaces, Como Plantation—the storied site for our December Supper Club.]
The family operating Gilliard Farms is profoundly attached to this particular patch of coastal Georgian soil. Imagine our relief that they love to travel! Raiford and Sage will join us in the Tunica Hills for supper, with a menu that celebrates coastal Georgia, while singing the praises of Louisiana ingredients too. Local Fish Crudo with Cajun Remoulade and Pickled Fall Vegetables are among the riverside appetizers they’ll serve, while a Farmer’s Brew Grilled Flank Steak with Harissa Cauliflower promises make the table groan. Take up a fork and unburden that poor table, won’t you please?
This will be the first visit to Baton Rouge and the Felicianas for the couple, and they’re excited at the prospect. Raiford cites the proximity to the river and the deep culture of the Delta. Sage’s reasons are more personal. “Knowing that my great-great-grandfather is from the Baton Rouge area is a chance to connect to ancestral land for me,” she said. “I want to immerse myself in the community."