Fry Bread: Bringing Arizona's Native Cuisine Into The Future
We're still recovering from the deep-fried free-for-all that is the state fair, but unlike that battered Twinkie, some fair foods actually have a history and place outside of the annual autumn festivities.
Lauren Saria Green chiles on fry bread
Last year the Central Phoenix family-owned restaurant The Fry Bread House brought national attention to one of Arizona's native foods by winning an America's Classics Award from the legendary James Beard Foundation. But underneath the crispy, golden exterior fry bread has quite a story to tell.
We trekked out to the Gila River Indian Community to hunt down some of the most authentic fry bread our taste buds have had the pleasure of knowing. At Sunna's Frybread Wagon we got to the heart of the dish's origins to see how one of the Southwest's simplest dishes is helping bring Native American cooking and culture into the future.
Here's an except from this week's story:
"Some believe fry bread should be greasy - use a stack of napkins and you'll still get some on your shirt. Some don't. The Sunnas' bread won't leave your fingers dripping, but offers just enough greasy flavor to qualify as a guilty pleasure. They don't subscribe to the notion that fry bread, or any of their food, for that matter, should be bland by design - and their white tepary beans on a bed of freshly fried dough will turn you off fair fry bread for life.
On the reservation and at places like The Fry Bread House, fry bread constitutes more than just a once-a-year treat or an exotic ethnic delicacy. It's everyday food, a common affair and, in many cases, a family effort."
Hungry for more? Read the whole story.