Posted on 08/28/2002 10:04:34 AM PDT by aomagrat
Where poet James Dickey saw kudzu as "Green, mindless, unkillable ghosts," Walhalla artist Nancy Basket sees paper and baskets and a table laden with warm kudzu rolls slathered with kudzu-blossom jelly.
Basket's enthusiasm for the prolific weed is boundless. She uses it in her artwork and in her diet.
"I'm promoting the good reputation of kudzu," Basket said as she pulled warm rolls flecked with the green of crushed kudzu leaves from the oven on a recent Tuesday morning.
Indeed, it's hard to escape the color green in Basket's world. Her studio and business, Kudzu Kabin Designs, are housed in a hundred-year-old-house on East Main Street in Walhalla. Kudzu vines trained into a lattice pattern frame the porch and trail around the side of the house. A ravine in the back yard is covered with its enveloping green.
"It's even trying to grow into my bedroom window," Basket said.
Inside, Basket's rustic country kitchen is filled with green from the cabinet doors to the worn beadboard, salvaged from a demolished house, that covers most of the walls. The counter is overflowing with green cuisine from kudzu quiche to jelly to pasta.
Kudzu covers millions of acres of the Deep South, so Basket says if it's here and it's free, why not put it to good use?
"Kudzu is a rather interesting specialty she took on for herself," said Tom Bryan, a regional coordinator with the S.C. Arts Commission. ".‘.‘. But she is good at making contacts and advertising her knowledge of kudzu and how versatile it is."
Basket was reared in Washington state by a Cherokee father and German mother, Shirlee Hendriks, who now also lives in Walhalla. Basket discovered the merits of kudzu after moving to South Carolina to trace her Native American heritage.
Basket - who adopted the last name of a basket-making great-grandmother - has turned the South's green scourge into the inspiration for her artistic creations.
With a vine that is so universally disparaged, she needs a hard sell to win kudzu converts. She's joined in the crusade by her mother, who makes candy with dried kudzu leaves and jelly with its blossoms.
Kudzu was introduced to the United States in 1876 at the Centennial Exposition in Philadelphia. The Japanese government constructed a beautiful garden filled with plants from their country. The large leaves and sweet-smelling blooms of kudzu captured the imagination of American gardeners, who used the plant for ornamental purposes.
During the 1930s, the Soil Conservation Service promoted kudzu for erosion control. Hundreds of young men were given work planting kudzu through the Civilian Conservation Corps. Farmers were paid as much as $8 an acre as incentive to plant fields of the vines in the 1940s.
Kudzu flourished in the Southern climate and began taking over everything that got in its way.
In the 1970s, the U.S. Department of Agriculture declared kudzu a weed. Today, on the Bureau of Land Management's Environmental Education Internet home page, kudzu has its own "wanted" poster in the Weed Hall of Shame.
But Hendriks calls kudzu "green gold."
"You can use it to make paper and baskets. You can spin or weave it into fabric. You can eat it. You can support your whole family that way," she said.
Kudzu is in "season" from the end of April to November, when the first frost usually kills it. In case you're worried about having enough kudzu to last through the winter, drying the leaves ensures a cold-weather supply, Hendriks said.
Kudzu blooms the end of July through September. It has attractive bunches of elongated, delicate purple flowers with a fragrance reminiscent of grapes. Hendriks uses the blossoms to make jelly.
To cook with kudzu, Basket chooses only the smallest, most tender leaves. Large leaves are too tough. Even the small leaves have plenty of body. Fresh and tender, the leaves have a flavor similar to that of a green bean. That's because kudzu is a member of the legume family.
Sumter County Extension agent Roland Alston has sampled Basket's kudzu creations in two segments for his popular S.C. ETV program "Making It Grow."
"I found it tasty," Alston said. ".‘.‘. It's certainly unusual or unique."
Alston said he admires Basket's pride in her Native American heritage and for finding interesting ways, such as kudzu art and cuisine, to educate the public about it.
Basket and Hendriks admit that eating kudzu is a novelty rather than a necessity, but Hendriks said consuming the aggressive vine can have its advantages.
"If we'd all eat our share, we wouldn't have a problem," Hendriks said.
The entire nation could eat kudzu from morning till night and we'd still have growing everywhere. Had fried kudzu leaves once. Not all that bad but I'll agree with you, BBQ and sweet tea are much better
A steady roll of thunder sounds
Over the kudzued fragrance
Of thick sweltering rising bowers
Of green, green, life resplendent,
Laughing and singing in the face
Of a sorrowed land.
Disclaimer: Opinions posted on Free Republic are those of the individual posters and do not necessarily represent the opinion of Free Republic or its management. All materials posted herein are protected by copyright law and the exemption for fair use of copyrighted works.