Photograph by Catherine Grace
Long before it became a staple at Friday fish fries and Sunday dinners, catfish was a matter of survival. Fish held a central place in West African cuisines, and enslaved Africans carried sophisticated fishing and fish-cooking knowledge with them across the Atlantic. In the American South, that knowledge met opportunity: rivers, creeks, and ponds offered catfish and other freshwater fish that enslaved people could catch without owning land or livestock, a crucial way to stretch the small rations enslavers provided. Native to North American waterways, the fish’s taste and texture mirrored species already familiar from West Africa, making it an easy substitution for cooks who wanted to preserve some sense of home. Cornmeal, a contribution from Indigenous communities, turned that resourcefulness into a delicious technique. Rather than simple fried fish, cooks covered catfish in seasoned cornmeal and fried it until golden and crisp, a preparation that became the South’s defining method. From there, the dish grew into something communal.
Because catfish could be caught, prepared, and cooked in large batches so easily, fish fries became one of the rare gatherings where enslaved communities could come together. This tradition carried into church functions, family reunions, fund-raisers, and other celebrations long after emancipation. The Great Migration carried it even further, as fried fish—oftentimes paired with spaghetti—became closely tied to Black communities from Mississippi to Midwestern cities like Chicago and Detroit. What began as a way to supplement scarce rations became a dish built as much for fellowship and community as for the table. Around town, you can find some of the authentic fried catfish at Mz. Jade’s Soul Food, and Pluto’s Café.
- Mz. Jade’s Soul Food, 11119 Reading Rd., Sharonville, (513) 386-7770
- Pluto’s Café, 1817 W. Galbraith Rd., North College Hill, (513) 817-7142
