Chef Art Smith Teaches the Art of Cooking
Chef Art Smith invites us for dinner in his childhood kitchen in Jasper, Florida
Growing up, I remember the sweet scent of orange blossoms punctuating the beginning of our winter. Juicy strawberries enticing my palate and fueling my desire to develop new recipes. Fresh-caught fish from nearby lakes and rivers and the Gulf and Atlantic waters offering a variety of tastes and textures. This is my Florida.
It is not a beach bar with oversized blenders whirling out the sounds of the birds in migration or the porch and fence conversations of neighbors. It is endless tables of covered dishes at church socials, quality family time and farms that teach the value of knowing where your food comes from.
It is the Florida of Marjorie Kinnan Rawlings, Marjory Stoneman Douglas and Marjorie Harris Carr—three women who inspired me to see Florida’s riches for what they are.
I can relate to every one of Ms. Rawlings’s stories. The characters mirror many of my family members’ lives. She captured it all so well. Her love for food and entertaining brought the Florida table to the world. And it’s my belief that every Florida home should have a copy of Rawlings’s cookbook, “Cross Creek Cookery.”
Homegrown
I am a sixth-generation Floridian with deep farming roots—and several uncles and cousins who ran their fair share of moonshine decades ago. My hometown of Jasper is in Hamilton County in the northern lowlands between Jacksonville and Tallahassee and south of Valdosta, Georgia. This region of Florida boasts cooking traditions as traditionally Southern as the Sunshine State ever gets.
On our farm, we had cattle and a bountiful vegetable garden. The aroma of slow-cooking pot roasts with carrots, onions and potatoes takes me right back to my youth.
Bring people together over food and they will listen to one another. They may not walk away best friends, but they will walk away with a renewed understanding of each other’s perspective.
When my mother’s kitchen was buzzing and packed with people, the occasion usually revolved around God: cakes, quick breads and pies for Wednesday evening church meetings and covered dishes of deviled eggs and casseroles for the fellowship hall after Sunday services.
Sunday supper culminated with my favorite dessert, a sour orange pie. We would collect the fruit from the citrus trees after they’d been zapped by a hard frost. My mother, Addie Mae Smith, would usually cook, bake or roast vegetables. Turnip greens were one of her specialties. I can’t remember a week during my childhood without a large pot of greens simmering away in her kitchen. When the cooking was complete, we would parade down the street to my grandmother’s house with dishes and pans cradled in kitchen towels for the meal. Both of my grandmothers always prepared the protein centerpiece of beef, pork or chicken.
Make chef Art Smith’s iced citrus hibiscus tea at home.
Local poultry, beef, sugarcane, pecans and citrus were important ingredients in my family’s recipes. Their repertoire of hearty, straightforward food influenced the family fare in my homes and restaurants in Florida and Illinois.
When we opened Chef Art Smith’s Homecomin’ Florida Kitchen & Southern Shine Bar at Disney Springs in the summer of 2016, my Florida business partners, Guy Revelle, Mark Gibson and I focused on recreating a snapshot of my rural Florida with architectural and culinary inspiration from regional growers and ranchers.
In Tallahassee, where I went to Florida State University, I was the chef for two Florida governors: Democrat Bob Graham and Republican Jeb Bush. I loved both iconic Florida leaders and am proud to be friends with their families to this day.
During my days in the governor’s mansion, I learned the power of food in politics and life. Bring people together over food and they will listen to one another. They may not walk away best friends, but they will walk away with a renewed understanding of each other’s perspective. My favorite hashtag remains #FriedChickenTakesNoSides.
The dining table has magical powers. It is a daily communion that is both spiritual and provocative. By the time you bring out the cake—and there will be cake—shoulders have relaxed, smiles are apparent, and conversation has shifted to all we have in common.
My Disney Era
My Florida also exists in and around Orlando in the tourist corridor. During my college days, I won a coveted spot in the fledgling Disney College Program, an internship and incubator of sorts that allowed Walt Disney World to identify young talent in a variety of fields.
I lived on Seven Dwarfs Lane—seriously—and while they kept trying to interest me in many aspects of the industry, I found my home in the kitchens. I had no formal culinary training. But in my Florida, everything that sustains life was a skill to learn no matter your gender. Parents taught boys and girls to cook, clean, farm, build, mend—you name it.
My mother and my aunts were tough culinary instructors who made sure my brother and I knew when to harvest cabbage, carrots, okra and more from the garden. I may not have been on my way to a culinary degree at that time, but I had the fundamentals down.
During my tenure in the Disney College Program, there was a bake-off among the students, many who were attending top-notch culinary schools. This kid from Jasper, a self-taught young thing from the North Florida countryside, won that baking contest. It was with a hummingbird cake, a Southern staple of dessert sideboards.
Later in life, when I cooked for Miss Winfrey—Oprah to the world—she thought I invented that cake. I told her no, that there was not a church or Junior League cookbook in the South that did not have a variation of that impossibly moist, cream-cheese frosted, three-tiered centerpiece dessert. After I baked one for her, I told her she was the one who made it famous all over again.
Sunshine State Blessings
All of my accomplishments can be traced back to my Florida table. Cooking aside, the table teaches communication skills, budgeting and hospitality. Years after leaving Tallahassee, I received my formal education papers. I hold an honorary MBA degree from the Dedman College of Hospitality at Florida State and an honorary doctorate degree in culinary arts from Johnson & Wales University – North Miami.
My two James Beard Foundation medals are on display at Homecomin’ in Disney Springs. They are casually pinned into a small craft store shadow box. No fuss. No bright lights. Just something to remind guests you can achieve your dreams.
Chef Art Smith shared his recipe for his hummingbird cake.
Many Disney College Program graduates go on to work for The Walt Disney Company, but I was the first to return as an “Operating Partner” with my own independent restaurant. Half of Jasper attended the pre-opening friends and family party. My mother cried, and, that evening, her reaction meant the most to me. It was a beautifully loud and boisterous night, much in the same way a Smith family reunion would unfold.
Then, on July 12, 2016, I officially opened Homecomin’ in the way my mother raised me to be: grateful and humble. On opening day at 11 a.m., I pushed open the double glass doors to the public with my servers flanking me and said, “Welcome home to Homecomin’, y’all.” This restaurant truly represents my Florida—from the reclaimed local wood on the walls and bar to the enclosed porches that overlook the water. And yes, greens are always on the menu as well as my mother’s chicken and dumpling soup and her fried green tomatoes.
But what strikes me about the power of the table is that once we all sit down for a meal, titles and resumes fall by the wayside.
Florida is an amazing state, and we have an agricultural diversity like no other region. Florida is Key lime pie, swamp cabbage salad and other things. But the state is also Cuban sandwiches, island jerk chicken, Asian vegetables and bold seasonings. Florida is a melting pot of many cultures, and it is important that we portray that.
Since I have been so blessed, my husband, Jesus Salgueiro, and I created Common Threads, a national nonprofit that provides children and families with cooking and nutrition education to encourage healthy habits.
Over the past 30-plus years, I have cooked for royalty, heads of state and industry, superstars and the executives and artists who keep the spirit of Walt Disney alive. But what strikes me about the power of the table is that once we all sit down for a meal, titles and resumes fall by the wayside. The table inspires conversation and innovation. It is where we find our common ground.
Today, Florida remains my foundation. It influences my business decisions and my love for farm-to-table cuisine. No matter where I am in the world, I am grounded by my past and those who raised me to know no limits, to keep learning and know the magic of a meal.
