By Mary Jane Miller
Pamela Riney-Kehrberg, a distinguished professor of history at Iowa State University, believes deeply that food is a lens through which all history can be understood. That philosophy is at the heart of her course America Eats, which she’s taught for three years.
In a recent public webinar, “Iowa Eats: Reflections from Class Cookbooks,” she explained how her students, mostly young men, engage with history not just through reading, but through cooking, storytelling and lived experience.
The course assignments are as thoughtful as they are hands-on. One early task challenges students to cook something they’ve never made before. For one student, that meant juicing a watermelon, a project that reportedly left his kitchen looking like a crime scene.
Another assignment asks students to step into the shoes of a Depression-era parent and plan a week’s worth of meals on a $2.50 budget. It’s an exercise in both empathy and ingenuity, revealing the realities of scarcity that shaped Iowa families in the 1930s.
For most students, the culminating project is the most meaningful. Students submit a personal recipe along with its backstory. What emerges is a class cookbook that is far more than a collection of dishes: It’s a tapestry of memory, migration and identity. Recipes range from deeply rooted heirlooms to newly invented dishes from novice cooks who are still finding their footing.
Bolognese sauce: Carol Strazzaboshi’s recipe for Nonna’s sauce followed the family from Italy to Australia to the United States.
Cinnamon rolls: Haely Subbert honored her great-grandmother Ruth, who spent 29 years serving school lunches in the Carroll Community School District. She was especially known for baking cinnamon rolls to accompany chili, a classic Iowa pairing.
Kepperslings: Amaya Peterson recalled the powdered-sugar cookies her German great-grandmother and grandmother made by the hundreds each holiday season and packed them into ice cream tubs for gifts.
Squirrel gravy: Kendrick Langreck submitted a recipe with step-by-step instructions that begin with the hunt. The dish dates back to 1900.
Tinga de pollo: Elena Gonzalez traveled to Mexico after learning Spanish, determined to master her family’s specialty from her grandmother firsthand. It’s a shredded chicken dish, simmered with tomatoes and chiles.
Not all the recipes are inherited. Some reflect first attempts at cooking, like the “minimalist tacos” from a student who was just beginning to explore the kitchen.
What Riney-Kehrberg has learned from her students is both simple and profound: Their connections to food are strong, personal and deeply tied to place. These traditions, shaped by farm life, school cafeterias and the lingering influence of the Great Depression, tell the story of Iowa in ways textbooks alone cannot.
The class cookbooks stand as living documents, preserving not only recipes but the stories that give them meaning.
If you’re curious (or hungry), you can find the cookbooks online.
Contributor Mary Jane Miller has worked as a food writer, chef, cooking teacher and food scientist for various clients, including Betty Crocker, the Food Network and Target. Her stories for dsm include a recipe for dinner rolls that generations of students loved in Indianola.
