
A simple letter discussing fishing sparked a transformative journey for Rob Connoley.
After two decades away, Rob Connoley, a self-taught chef and James Beard Award nominee, closed his New Mexico restaurant, Curious Kumquat, in 2016 and moved back to St. Louis. There, he launched Bulrush STL in 2019. His quest to craft a unique menu led him to explore the culinary traditions of the Ozarks, a mountainous area covering Missouri, Arkansas, and parts of Oklahoma and Kansas.
Connoley discovered that Ozark cuisine is often misunderstood. Its origins are frequently conflated with Southern, Appalachian, Mississippi Delta, or Midwestern food. Stereotypical dishes like squirrel fritters and possum pies have unfairly branded it as rustic or unsophisticated. However, Connoley recalls a different culinary experience growing up, centered on locally sourced ingredients and homegrown flavors.
Connoley soon embarked on a mission to breathe new life into the largely forgotten cuisine of the Ozarks.
Starting with church cookbooks from the 1950s and ’60s, he soon realized that the recipes, filled with casseroles and Jell-O molds, lacked the regional authenticity he sought. While some backwoods dishes appeared, they seemed tailored for tourists rather than reflecting local traditions.
Delving deeper, Connoley found himself in the archives of the Butler Center for Arkansas Studies in Little Rock, Arkansas, sifting through boxes of old documents. Among them was a letter from 1820, written by a settler to his mother in Boston, detailing his survival in the Ozarks through fishing. “He was an ordinary man, lost to history,” Connoley notes, but his account offered the chef a rare glimpse into the undiluted roots of Ozark cuisine.
This discovery transformed Connoley’s research strategy, prompting him to explore unconventional sources. His pursuit of the authentic origins of what’s sometimes called High South cuisine has taken him to archives, deed offices, collaborations with Indigenous tribes, and even partnerships with university history departments to study burial sites of the enslaved.
Every research project requires clear boundaries, and Connoley chose 1870 as his cutoff point. This marked the arrival of the railroad, which brought telegraph communication and the standardization of food through shipping. He focused on gathering handwritten letters and journals from before this era to uncover how people lived and sustained themselves.
“Ozark cuisine represents the fusion of Indigenous, enslaved, and settler cultures in the early 19th century,” Connoley explains to Mytour. “It blends hunted and cultivated foods, with hundreds of seasonal ingredients. Rooted in a zero-waste philosophy, survival in the Ozarks at that time required expertise in preserving, curing, and canning.”
By relying solely on original sources he uncovered or received from others, Connoley identified unique ingredients in Ozark cuisine. Among them are chinquapin chestnuts, once believed extinct, which he now obtains from a discreet grower who has reintroduced them as an experimental crop.
Rob Connoley inspects a plant. | Courtesy Jay HemphillConnoley’s exploration of heritage pork breeds yielded unexpected discoveries. He was fascinated by Guinea hogs, which fell out of favor due to their smaller size compared to commercial pigs, and red wattle hogs, known for their exceptionally rich and dark pork.
Local farmers, who share Connoley’s passion for heritage and rare breeds, supply the ingredients that grace Bulrush’s menu. In Connoley’s hands, a humble dish of pork, greens, and grits transforms into sous vide pork in a light brine, adorned with a rich pork demi-glace, velvety foam, and crispy fried kale, paired with grits milled exclusively for Bulrush—a nod to the cattail, also known as bulrush.
A breakthrough in Connoley’s research occurred when he discovered an 1841 seed store inventory at the St. Louis recorder of deeds office. He collaborated with a dozen local farmers to cultivate 23 rare heritage crops from the list, including ice cream watermelon, renowned for its exceptional sweetness but abandoned due to its abundance of seeds. Connoley repurposed the watermelon into a fermented soda for Bulrush’s bar. He also harvested a plentiful yield of salsify, a root vegetable with a unique flavor blending parsnip and artichoke.
Connoley’s foraging expertise, honed during his time at Curious Kumquat (earning him a James Beard Award semifinalist nomination in 2014), plays a key role in his culinary creations. He gathers wild ingredients like morel mushrooms and cattails, utilizing them in various forms throughout the year. He also harvests pawpaw, a fruit that famously sustained the Lewis and Clark expedition. In April 2021, pawpaw featured prominently on Bulrush’s menu as a dessert, including a pawpaw vinegar pie and cake paired with mulberry Italian meringue, kinako streusel, and mulberry compote.
While these ingredients define the Bulrush menu, Connoley deliberately omits items that lack historical accuracy. “Often, what’s more intriguing than what I serve is what I exclude,” he remarks. Beef was absent from the menu for the first eight months until an 1869 Arkansas letter confirmed its presence in the region pre-1870. Lemons and limes are also banned, prompting Connoley to suggest vinegar as a substitute for souring drinks, based on an old bar inventory.
Currently, Connoley focuses on the culinary traditions of Appalachian settlers and European immigrants. However, he aims to incorporate more ingredients foraged, hunted, or grown in collaboration with the Osage Nation, a partnership he deeply respects. “It requires mutual trust and respect,” he says. “Their knowledge is a gift, not something I can claim. I won’t use it until they deem it appropriate to share—it’s not mine to reveal.”
Connoley (left) working in the kitchen at Bulrush STL. | Courtesy Bulrush STLTo fully capture the region’s culinary influences, Connoley has partnered with St. Louis University, which provides interns to uncover and analyze historical letters and conduct genealogical research on enslaved individuals. Starting with names from an 1800s cemetery for the enslaved, they aim to connect with descendants and uncover food traditions passed down through generations. Connoley notes that this research is not yet ready for public attention.
Step by step, Connoley is unraveling the mysteries of Ozark cuisine. His passion for authenticity drives him to delve into archives and consult historians. “Why do I do it? Because I can’t ignore it—I’m driven by curiosity,” he explains. “I’m not interested in publishing or sharing the information widely. It’s about connecting with customers face-to-face and offering them the most captivating story to enhance their dining experience.”
