It’s fitting, then, that Wahpepah’s first cookbook, A Feather and a Fork, publishing on March 17, centers on intertribal foods. While the 125 recipes are largely informed by her Kickapoo heritage, there are also clear nods to other Indigenous communities, including the Ohlone people, who stewarded the place now known as Oakland for millennia before European arrival and are increasingly reclaiming their relationship to the land.
Beyond her restaurant, the self-proclaimed Indigenous food warrior is deeply involved with Oakland’s often overlooked yet vibrant Native community as well as food sovereignty efforts in the Bay Area.
Those recipes—titled in both English and Kickapoo—are accompanied by pointers on ingredient sourcing and rich storytelling about Wahpepah’s life, her tribe’s history, and cultural context about the featured foods. A James Beard Foundation Emerging Chef Award finalist, she was the first Indigenous chef to compete on Food Network’s Chopped and was inducted into the Native American Almanac for her professional achievements.
Beyond her restaurant, the self-proclaimed Indigenous food warrior is deeply involved with Oakland’s often overlooked yet vibrant Native community as well as food sovereignty efforts in the Bay Area. Known for her effervescent personality and big auntie energy, Wahpepah collaborates closely with the Culture Conservancy, a Native-led nonprofit aimed at preserving and empowering Indigenous cultures, as well as the Intertribal Friendship House, one of the nation’s oldest urban Indian centers.
Civil Eats recently spoke to Wahpepah about A Feather and a Fork, the concept of food as medicine, and fry bread as a symbol of Native resilience.
What does it mean to you to be an Indigenous food warrior?
My interpretation of an Indigenous food warrior is anyone who is participating in the food sovereignty movement and keeping our ancestral knowledge alive—from farmers and seed keepers to hunters and gatherers to those who serve and eat our foods. I first started using the term back when I was doing catering work. My niece and I would be driving between Oakland and Los Angeles [for catering jobs], and we were like, “We’re Indigenous food warriors.”
It became part of our culinary journey and shaped who we are, and we really embraced it as the years went on. When we go to the farm, when we plant the seeds, when we harvest the foods—that’s all being an Indigenous food warrior. It’s so beautiful to see the important work that Indigenous food warriors are doing all across Indian Country.
Bison roast with chokecherry rub (Misiikwaa Katoowakimina). Chokecherries, Wahpepah says, are a powerful medicine rich in antioxidants and anti-inflammatory properties. (Photo credit: Clay Williams)
Why is it important to you to get involved in food sovereignty initiatives in the Oakland community?
I wouldn’t be a chef without my community. My community has played a huge role in what I do and what I advocate for. A lot of my food sovereignty work is done in collaboration with the Culture Conservancy.
I met the team maybe 12 years ago when I was cooking a dinner at the Intertribal Friendship House here in Oakland, and the relationship built out from there.
At [the conservancy’s] Sonoma farm, Heron Shadow, we grow all sorts of vegetables, like Hopi black beans, Quapaw red corn, Buffalo Creek squash, chilies, tomatoes, and amaranth. I use some of that produce at the restaurant, but most of it gets distributed to community members.
All of this work is about quite literally providing food access to Native people. It’s also about educating the next generation, because our youth are watching us and want to get involved. Oakland is so rich and multicultural, and we have a huge Native community, especially in the Fruitvale area, where my restaurant is.
If you live here, you already know that, but it’s easy to overlook if you’re not from here. Anyone can get involved in supporting the community by volunteering with the Culture Conservancy, the Intertribal Friendship House, or the Sogorea Te’ Land Trust, which is a Native-led nonprofit that helps return Indigenous land to Indigenous people.
I also teach a class at Cal Poly Humboldt’s Food Sovereignty Lab, where I’ve been chef-in-residence since last October. I’m having a lot of fun helping students from all different backgrounds learn about the benefits of Indigenous foods and the importance of sovereignty work. There happen to be a lot of Native students in that class, but it’s made for everyone.
Blue corn mush with mixed berries (Peeskipaateeki Methiikwaki Meekateethichik Miinaki) is a staple on the Wahpepah’s Kitchen menu. It can be served for breakfast or as a dessert. (Photo credit: Clay Williams)
How does the concept of food as medicine factor into your work?
When I was growing up and I was at that period when intergenerational trauma can really take hold, I found myself gravitating toward certain healing foods. For example, I loved picking berries, and that’s still my happiest place to this day.
I believe our ancestors are really calling us to connect with these tribal foods and heal not only for ourselves but for future generations.
A lot of people are feeling lost and disconnected right now, and that’s because they’re not connected with the land. It’s very important to understand whose land you’re on and where your food comes from.