Every year, the Thanksgiving holiday proves to be a rather complicated one for Indigenous peoples. While many Native communities skip the event all together—as a means of acknowledging the real, and fraught, history of what happened on Thanksgiving day—many also choose to partake in the traditional feast, but with more cultural-minded recipes instead, using the day as a powerful means to reclaim and celebrate their own heritage. Just last week, Indigenous chef Sean Sherman—who is Oglala Lakota Sioux—was one such mindful participant.
The acclaimed chef—known best for his buzzy first cookbook, The Sioux Chef’s Indigenous Kitchen—hosted a pre-Thanksgiving feast in his own distinctive way. The intimate dinner gathering was held at his restaurant Owamni in Minneapolis, where Sherman gathered some of his closest friends for some good food, conversation, and to celebrate the launch of his brand new cookbook, Turtle Island: Foods and Traditions of the Indigenous Peoples of North America, released earlier this month. (Around the table? Creatives such as photographer David Alvarado, employees from Sherman’s nonprofit organization Natifs, and members of the Owamni serving staff.)
In his new book, Turtle Island, Sherman dishes up contemporary recipes all made with decolonized ingredients. The chef went across the continent region by region—from Northern Alaska to the Great Plains to southern Mexico—and highlighted different local flavors and cuisines, all utilizing the fresh game, fish, or fruits and vegetables that were used pre-colonization. “The book wasn’t meant to be a report on what traditional foods were,” says Sherman. “This is a book for the future: I wanted to showcase the possibilities of what we still have, and what we can create. There is a vast diversity of Indigeneity across North America: I wanted to tell the story of what food looks like when you take out colonial lines completely.”
For his own dinner party, then, Sherman only wanted to continue evolving this idea. The chef served up delicious fare that spotlighted Indigenous-produced foods: This included hand-harvested wild rice from Minnesota Tribal harvesters, traditional corn grown by Native nations, pure maple syrup tapped by tribal producers, along with dishes such as Native-grown beans. “I wanted a table that felt like a quiet revolution,” he says. “Something decolonized, beautiful, and undeniably Indigenous. A space where people are invited to sit, learn, and taste how health, diversity and solidarity can live on a plate.”
By utilizing the vibrant vegetables, seasonal plants, wild game, and fish his people have used for centuries, Sherman aimed to spotlight what the art of gathering often means for Indigenous communities today: That it serves as a time for appreciating and giving thanks for the foods that the natural world provides around us. “We built a table the way our Indigenous communities celebrate food—through abundance,” says Sherman. “These ingredients carry land, lineage, and labor. They’re more than products—you’re tasting culture, resilience, and ongoing Indigenous presence and perspective. Food isn’t just nourishment—it’s a form of resistance and a celebration of who we are.”
As holiday hosting and cooking will continue to ramp up over the next month, Sherman says he hopes that readers of his new cookbook will also consider taking such a mindful approach to food in the busy weeks ahead. “I want people to rethink the holidays beyond a colonial myth that erases centuries of land theft and violence, and instead celebrate the real, living cultures whose foods shaped this continent long before it was called America,” Sherman says. His number-one tip for entertaining this holiday season? “Support BIPOC-produced foods,” he says. “Acknowledge the history of the land you’re on and the struggles Black, Indigenous, and immigrant communities have endured historically, and still face today. Donate leftovers to organizations feeding the unhoused. Find shared values rooted in humanity, not hate or division.”
Below, in honor of his recent dinner party and new book release, Sherman also shares a new recipe from the cookbook with Vogue—a cozy garden vegetable soup with dumplings from the southern Mexico region that is perfect for the autumnal season. “Chochoyotes are a classic little dumpling, usually served in a broth,” says Sherman. “It’s a fun and easy dumpling to make, and really hearty when you put it in the broth. And, of course, you have to give it a little spice and heat!”
Sopa de Milpa con Chochoyotes y Chipilín (Garden Vegetable Soup with Dumplings)
Just as they have in other parts of Turtle Island, the Maya people in the Yucatán and other Indigenous peoples in central and southern Mexico interplant corn, beans, squash, chiles, tomatoes, and other crops in a system known as the milpa.
Sopa de milpa is a soup that reflects what might be growing in people’s gardens at any time, changing from season to season and cook to cook. When they’re available, I like to add chipilín leaves to this soup, which taste like a milder version of spinach with a green bean edge. This shrub grows wild in South and Central America and southern Mexico. You can occasionally find people cultivating the leaves in the United States, too, but you can substitute baby spinach.
To make the soup more filling, I slip chochoyotes—simple dumplings made of masa—into the broth, but you could skip them if you prefer.
Ingredients
- 8 ounces fresh masa or use masa harina
- 3 tablespoons avocado or sunflower oil
- 1 bunch chipilín leaves (picked from the stems) or 3 cups baby spinach
- ½ medium white onion, chopped
- Sea salt
- 6 garlic cloves, minced
- 1 jalapeño or serrano chile, stemmed, seeded if desired, and thinly sliced
- 1 pound summer squash, such as zucchini, cut lengthwise into quarters and crosswise into ½-inch pieces
- 2 medium tomatoes, cored and chopped
- 6 cups roasted bird stock or vegetable broth
- 1 sprig of epazote
- 2 ears corn, husked and cut crosswise into 1-inch-thick rounds
- 1 tablespoon cider vinegar
- 12 squash flowers, stemmed, halved lengthwise, stamen or pistil removed
Instructions
- Mix the masa with 1 tablespoon of the oil.
- Finely chop half of the chipilín leaves. Add those to the masa and use your hands to mix them in. Cover the masa while you form the dumplings and keep the dumplings covered once they are made.
- Set a piece of parchment paper on a baking sheet or cutting board. Using a teaspoon, scoop the masa into ½-inch balls and place them on the parchment. Press your thumb into each ball to create a divot in the center.
- In a large pot or Dutch oven, heat the remaining 2 tablespoons of oil over medium heat. Add the onion, season with salt, and cook for about 5 minutes, or until translucent. Add the garlic and chile and cook for about 1 minute, or until fragrant.
- Add the squash and tomatoes, season with salt, and cook for about 5 minutes, or until the tomatoes start to break down and release their juices.
- Add the stock, the remaining chipilín leaves, and the epazote. Bring to a boil over medium-high heat. Reduce the heat to medium so the soup simmers. Add the corn cob rounds and cook for about 4 minutes, or until softened.
- Gently drop the masa dumplings into the soup and simmer for 7 to 10 minutes, until they are cooked through and tender. Be careful not to overcook, or they will begin to fall apart in the broth.
- Discard the epazote sprig and add the vinegar to the soup. Taste and season with more salt as needed. Stir in the halved squash blossoms, let them wilt, then serve.
