America's First Presidential Chef Was a Slave

His name was Hercules and he was the first chef to serve an American President and his guests. Visitors to the George Washington's table wrote about the unforgettable meals he created and fellow chefs stepped aside when he walked through the market. Yet he was slave.

Yes, a slave in the household of a general, who fought for freedom so gallantly, he was elected the first president of America, the world's daring and still evolving experiment in self-determination.  He was a slave in Philadelphia, the open city of brotherly love, founded on the Quakers' universal principles that all people should be free and equal.

Yes, Hercules was a slave but a slave who never surrender his identity or profession to enslavenment. Originally brought to George Washington's country estate of Mount Vernon as a child slave from Washington's wife Martha's home, he was initially viewed as too weak and small for field work and so was assigned to the household kitchens.

There he learned to prepare the dishes most enjoyed by the future president and his visiting neighbors. Because hotels as such did not yet exist in America, the landed gentry of Virginia entertained largely on their estates so twenty guests for dinner was not unusual. At Mount Vernon, Hercules learned how to handle it all and the resulting creativity enabled him to experience a growing sense of self identity that would later bloom for the talented young chef in Philadelphia.

Philadelphia, not Washington DC, was the first capital of the United States.  The District of Columbia was at this time a swamp slowing being drained for future construction. The soaring capital dome and the gleaming White House were then only drawings on an architect's desk.  So for the sake of order and stability, the first president of the nation resided in Philadelphia, waiting for the buildings (and the new govenment) to be established.

The Philadelphian house selected for the new President (and where Hercules would live and work for seven long steam-filled years) had hosted the rich and famous before. Originally built in 1760 by the rich widow Mary Lawrence Mastersy, it had previously hosted Richard Penn - the grandson of Pennsylvania's founder, Commanding General Howe of the then occupying British forces, Major General Benedict Arnold while still an American patriot, the elegant first French Consul John Holker and finally the successful merchant Robert Morris in 1785.     

This was the house that Hercules entered when he was summoned from the kitchens of Mount Vernon to those of Philadelphia. And while Washington was asking that the house on Market Street be enlarged, Hercules found the kitchen there was smaller and the responsibilities larger - and far more historic then ever before.

Undetoured, Hercules soon set to work ordering the kitchen and his staff of eight. Like any great chef, he demanded order and absolute cleanliness in his kitchen. Every pot was shined and hung in its proper place. The produce was always purchased fresh every day and stored with care.

White aprons and clean hands were his order for the day, every day. Sloppiness and dirt were viewed as second only to the sin of indifference.

In short, though a slave, Hercules ran his kitchen as a professional because he was one.  The standards he set still continue to this day in the gleaming modern (but not much larger kitchens) of the White House in Washngton D.C.

Hercules' standards of professionalism extended beyond the kitchen.  When he walked in the markets or strolled on the shaded streets after dinner, he dressed in elegant black and wore shiny silver buckles on his shoes. He held his head high for both his race and his profession.  Those he passed commonly nodded their heads in his direction as a sign of respect for his legendary talents and his courage of presence though he was, as all knew, an unfreed slave.

In the teeming markets and shops of Philadelphia, Hercules met many freed slaves and he longed to join them in the liberties that the new Constitition had so boldly promised. Year after year he work and saved the side money he was allowed to earn through extra jobs.  

When told finally to return to Mount Vernon as Washington's presidency ended, he chose instead to melt into the supportive freedom-loving atmosphere of Philadelphia and claim his freedom. At last he was free. But at a cost.

As an escaped or "run away" slave, he was always subject to recapture. To be free he had to be invisible, something no chef can be to his staff or vendors. To survive he had to set aside the skills of a lifetime and faded into history.

Behind him he left a legacy of standards, hallmarks of quality and professionalism that every chef is free to claim as his own each time he puts his whites, turns to his staff and says, "Gentlemen, let us begin. Our guests are arriving." 

Your Culinary World copyright Ana Kinkaid/Peter Schlagel 2011  

Jefferson’s Own Monticello Beer Now Rebrewed Just in Time for Presidents’ Day

Thomas Jefferson’s personal ale is now being recreated thanks to the efforts of two brewers past and present.  Meet Mark Thompson of today’s Starr Hill Brewery and Joseph Miller of colonial fame.

Mark Thompson has collaborated with the staff at the Thomas Jefferson Foundation to rediscover from Jefferson’s detailed notebooks the flavorful beer that the President enjoyed when he dined at his Monticello estate.

The resulting research has uncovered a nearly lost tale of courage, romance, politics, pirates and, of course, great beer.  And as all great stories do, this story begins with a great love story.

In 1772 the young Virginia lawyer Thomas Jefferson married Martha Wayles in what was to become a devoted marriage of two soul mates. Martha became the guiding mistress of the Jefferson former bachelor estate and there brewed 15 gallons of “small beer’, a beer with a low alcoholic content, about every two weeks for her husband’s enjoyment and use.

The deep affection between the two resulted in a long string of pregnancies that eventually weakened Martha’s health.  Finally in 1782 Martha died at the early age of 33. Jefferson locked himself in his room to grieve and weep for three weeks.  He never remarried.

Jefferson soon accepted a position as the American Commissioner to France shortly thereafter. And for the next 26 years Jefferson’s efforts to help establish the American nation on firm ground often kept him away from his beloved Monticello.

Once he had completed his second term as president, he left government service exhausted and very, very gladly returned to the calm and quiet of his beloved country estate.  There he began to actively brew beer again, using the wheat and corn grown on his own estate to create a “table liquor” for his many arriving guests.

Enters Captain Joseph Miller, gentleman farmer AND master brewer. Captain Miller and his young daughter Mary Ann were Americans with deep English roots, but Miller chose to side with the young nation over Britain.  In 1812 the Captain boarded the sailing ship Lydia with his daughter to return home to America. 

It would take over six long months to complete his trip. While enroute to the States, the War of 1812 broke out between England and America as Great Britain sought to reclaim her former colony. Their boat was boarded mid-Atlantic first by French privateers and then detained by the British navy.

When they finally arrived on American shores, they were forced to sail northward to find an open port as the ports of the deep south were closed to any ships from England. Then their boat was destroyed in a massive sea storm outside Norfolk, Virginia. Luckily they survived the wreck.

Once on dry land, their problems had only begun.  Because of his long residence in England, Miller’s citizenship was questioned, making it impossible for him to claim the American estate he had just inherited from his late half-brother.

The submission of various required paperwork in order to claim his estate took him into the region of Virginia where Jefferson lived.  There he met the former president and soon they were good friends.

Jefferson, who was interested in all things scientific, appreciated and admired Captain Miller’s indepth knowledge about both the art AND science of brewing. He asked Miller to come to Monticello and review his country production methods.  Because of his professional skill, Miller was able to offer Jefferson several important ideas for improving his beer.

At Jefferson’s request, he stayed and began to teach the very talented house slave Peter Hemings, who was also a trained French cook, the art of malting and brewing. In return Jefferson supported Miller’s lengthy appeal for the rights of his disputed American citizenship through a constant stream of letters and petitions to officals.

All the while, the rich ale unique to Monticello flowed and was enjoyed by the many visitors arriving, served in silver tumblers as they marveled at the many inventions Jefferson had created in his treasured world of order and purpose.  Sadly after his death, Jefferson’s heirs were unable to maintain the now debt-burdened property.

It a little known fact that Monticello (and its valuable records, including those about beer brewing) was saved by the Uriah P. Levy family.  Commodore Levy was the first American of Jewish heritage to receive a commission in the U.S. Navy. When Monticello was near collapse, Commodore Levy bought it in 1834 and worked throughout his lifetime to preserve its unique and vital heritage.

Interestingly, it was Thomas Jefferson who wrote the nation's  first laws guaranteeing religious freedom to all, the same laws that Commodore Levy revered and that still protect each citizen today.  That’s something we should all raise a glass to and now we can do it with Jefferson’s very own beer.

Thank you Thomas Jefferson Foundation and Happy Presidents’ Day! 

Your Culinary World copyright Ana Kinkaid/Peter Schlagel 2011