Fried Whiting And Black Muslims...

Bean Pie, My Brother?

My childhood neighborhood is currently undergoing aggressive gentrification. People will often invite me to Oak Park Brewing Company, so I can have a drink with them on their patio. I never accept. They have no connections to this neighborhood. They have no past or ghosts to follow them from corner to corner. To them, it’s a beautiful patio with string lights protected by a wrought iron fence so that the outsiders can’t become insiders. But, it’s also one of my aunt’s favorite score-solicit corners. And as much as “they” want to appear to be progressive in their new neighborhood…they ain’t ready for that type of reality. And I ain’t ready to do the type of explanation that comes with it.

In this same neighborhood, in the 1990s, it was a regular occurrence to spot the “brothers.”

My cousin and I were on the bus as we spotted two brothers standing on opposite sides of Martin Luther King and Broadway. They were in perfectly fitted suits, black bow ties, fresh fades and one wore eyeglasses. “Final Call, brother? Bean pie, sister?”

Fried Whiting sandwich at the Manna House Cafe

We got off at the next bus stop, a few steps away from Flower’s Fish Market. We cut through the tiny parking lot sandwiched between two brick buildings and headed into Flower’s for the $5 Fried Whiting and homemade french fries special. We stood at the counter, the open kitchen directly behind, the cook oblivious to us. He continued to sing to the floating fillets of fish in the deep fryer. We put in our orders for two fried whiting sandwiches and walked down the street to Stanford market to get some $0.50 Tahitian Treat sodas and $0.75 Black and Milds.

By the time we walked back to Flower’s, our Whiting was ready. We took our bounty and posted up on Bigler to wait for the American Legion School crowd to pour out. We tore into those containers and the assemblage started. A mountain of thin fillets cut into squares and rectangles with curled edges, white flesh on one side and a charcoal stripe on the other side beneath light cornmeal dredge. The fillets sandwiched between two pieces of “wheat” sandwich bread. A slather of tartar sauce, a sprinkling of Crystal hot sauce. Salty from the seasoning, fatty from the mayonnaise, tart and acidic from the vinegar in the hot sauce, crunchy from the cornmeal batter and years of fried fish education. All while standing under a nice, big, shady tree. Yup, we were mighty pleased with these sandwiches. And ourselves, might I add. It didn’t matter that we had no idea what the fuck whiting was. 

While I rarely see black muslims selling bean pies on the corner these days, the masjid is still in the same location. And luckily, Flower’s still stands and still serves fried whiting. And fresh, homemade, bean pies.

Those Nation Of Islam created the bean pie recipe as a healthy alternative to sweet potato pie (that would spike any diabetic’s blood sugar). It usually consists of a smooth custard made from mashed navy beans, vanilla (not alcoholic extract) and your usual cast of spice all-stars; cinnamon, clove, ginger, nutmeg. The beans having a mild flavor, the spices are really on the forefront. It’s not wild to assume most of you reading this have never tried bean pie. But, you may have had a fish like whiting. 

Whiting was primarily used by Black Muslims because its texture was most similar to catfish (but way cheaper), and catfish is a prohibited food to Black Muslims. Whiting was listed as a “staple item” in black homes via a 1975 issue of Muhammad Speaks magazine. This issue also mentioned the prize of a recent National Fish Salesman contest - via the Nation of Islam's Imported Fish program - where the grand prize winner was awarded with a “one-week expense-paid trip to Peru (the exporters of the fish) on the Nation’s jet and the return on a ship carrying Whiting H and G. Bro. Barry sold 23,045 pounds of fish during the 90-day plane drive.”

I guess it’s a kill two birds with one stone scenario. Y’all already got the jet and the boats coming full of fish, just toss a brother on there for a trip he “won.”

After a quick research on what Whiting H and G could possibly be, the name of a track by Kool and the Gang on their That’s the Way of the World album. Close. They were talking about black Muslims and fried whiting in the song. But, H and G is short for “head and gut.” Otherwise known as, whole.

It seems “Black Muslims here import from Lima, Peru, 35,000 pounds of whiting fish each month for sale door-to-door and distribution to their temples in Baltimore and Richmond,” a 1975 Washington Post story noted.

Whiting was so affordable that people started preparing it in casseroles, soups, gumbos, salads and using it to make their sausages instead of using red meat. Black folks who would normally only consume fried fish once a week, were including Whiting in all cooked forms it in their daily diets. Got a backyard garden? Cool. Because the parts of the fish that are usually discarded, such as the bones, can be used as compost.

Whiting isn’t as popular as its textural doppelgänger, cod. Whiting is in fact from the Merlucciidae family, where cod and haddock are distant relatives, including most hakes. Pacific Whiting, also known as Pacific or Argentine Hake, is the most abundant fish resource off the West Coast and are native to cold water in the Atlantic and Pacific Oceans coming primarily from California, Oregon, Washington State and British Columbia. Pacific Seafood states that, “Every spring, huge schools of whiting migrate from Baja up the coast to waters off Oregon and Washington…”

Although it swims in abundance on the West Coast, I haven’t seen it on many menus. New York and Washington DC seem to know a lot about the fish. Horace and Dickie’s in Washington DC was still producing a long ass line for those ordering the fried whiting sandwich until its demise in 2020.

Horace and Dickie’s via Eater DC

Since the flesh is so delicate, the fish is best consumed straight from the fryer. It’s said that if it sits for longer than 15 minutes, call it quits. And it’s easy to see why Horace and Dickie’s may have an upper hand on the fried whiting market all those years. The “sandwich” was mostly a heaping pile of golden brown fried fish, a drizzle of vinegary hot sauce, covering sandwich bread. No produce, no filler, no bullshit. 

When I asked Michael Twitty if he had ever heard of whiting and if he knew anything about its popularity in soul food restaurants, he responded, “It was a neutral tasting so-called “trash fish” and therefore cheap.” Pretty straight-forward.

What’s not straight-forward is attempting to track down the fish being served in restaurants. It was once the stuff of legends at the Oakland-based Your Black Muslim Bakery and at Wooden Spoon/OB’s Cafe, where you had the option of ordering it with “the works” that included pickles, tomato, dressing and a high pile of alfalfa sprouts, but both places are now defunct. Tilapia has just taken over restaurant menus as a cheap and sturdy fish, the chicken of the sea.

Anyone know where you can still get a fried whiting sandwich?