Founded in 1977, Bloodroot is nearing its 50th anniversary. It also will be commemorating its…read morelegacy. For this historic restaurant that has created its own recipes both for its menu planning and for its business plan, 50 years is an enviable achievement that marks a milestone.
Bloodroot began stirring feminism into food during an era when feminist cafés and bookstores sprang up all across North America. Bloodroot has outlasted them all. And through its four vegetarian cookbooks, Bloodroot has contributed to both the feminist and the vegetarian movements beyond Connecticut's borders.
The restaurant has defied convention in many ways, even in its location on a dead-end street of a peaceful residential neighborhood. Its secluded site provides a spacious yard, ample parking, and a waterfront view. Picnic tables in the yard and patio foretell of informal and leisurely dining.
Indoors, this historic landmark looks like a museum. The olden furniture may have been sourced from antique shops. Tapestries hang from the rafters. Chandeliers simulate candlelight. An entire wall is decorated with dozens of framed black-and-white vintage photos of females, all looking like the faded portraits of your great-grandmas. Bloodroot is all about Mom.
The food, "like mother used to make," is akin to grandma's and mom's home cooking. Not haute cuisine, but not crunchy-granola health foods either. To my disappointment, white flour, white sugar, and white rice rule the day. The mostly conventional fare with an ethnic flair simply omits the meat. Until ten years ago, Bloodroot was stuck in the last century, still clinging to cow's milk products on its menu, thereby supporting a dairy industry that cruelly exploits the females of the species. This feminist collective's transition into veganism was long overdue.
I have dined at Bloodroot over thirty times in the past 40-years, during which the building and décor have little changed. Historic indeed. Its menu, however, changes both seasonally and almost daily depending upon what produce is available. On some occasions, I have been treated to memorable meals that rival even the most expensive vegan restaurants of Manhattan. But sometimes the food did not rise above the level of my own home cooking, so I was better off staying home. You just need to choose wisely.
One change in décor has occurred in its adjoining bookstore. In the age of Amazon, it has morphed into more of a reading library with comfy couches that encourage you to browse through the books. On one table and one shelf, some used books, mostly pertaining to the subjects of feminism or vegetarianism, can indeed be purchased, but that selection is small compared to the other shelves crowded with books intended only for perusal. While the three earlier Bloodroot cookbooks are out of print, its current volume is in print and so offered for sale.
Another change. In the past, you were usually greeted by Selma Miriam, who cofounded Bloodroot with her business and life partner, Noel Furie. But Selma won't be greeting us anymore. She died last February at age 89. Tributes and obits filled Connecticut news media, and she was accorded a lengthy obituary in The New York Times.
I would be remiss if not sharing an ill-fated personal anecdote. Under the guise of required membership to some obscure historical society, this feminist collective used to reserve one night a week for admission to women only. On one such members-only night in 1988, a luminary of the animal rights movement and I had arrived right after broadcasting his animal rights talk show on WPKN-FM on which we announced we were heading to Bloodroot right after the show, essentially promoting the restaurant on the noncommercial radio station.
Selma knew us both, but cordially turned us away. Despite our begging, she refused to serve us even outside and out of sight. I felt like a Black in Jim Crow South denied a seat at the lunch counter. While I don't recall the woman after whom the historical society was named, it should have been called, The Jim Crow Historical Society.
Presently filling roles both at the front and the back of the house, Noel (in my photo, depicted standing) is one busy woman. And Bloodroot is beginning a new chapter in its CookBook of Life.
In case you're wondering about the meaning of its sanguinary name that may seem contradictory for a vegetarian restaurant, the bloodroot is a wildflower native to New England whose roots sprout up all around it with flowering shoots. But this iconic Bloodroot in Bridgeport stands alone.
