Chef Jeremiah Langhorne On Being A Champion Of The Chesapeake

This is where the creek empties, where the speck spook in the eelgrass. I’m no fisherman and everybody knows it. Heavy line, light lure — how much of my life does that sum up? Shuffle and shoal in the purblind glare. We haul in rocks and reds — or they do, mostly. The air’s thick with salt and funk. Hot, I say. The captain’s grave eyes . . . It’s five years now. I’m still out there, a seagull, hovering angel watching them reeling me in. (From “Angelus: Chesapeake Bay” by Ron Smith, former Poet Laureate of Virginia)

Anyone who has dined at The Dabney, Chef Jeremiah Langhorne’s award-winning restaurant in Washington, D.C., knows that attention to detail in food, service, and ambiance is an understatement when experiencing a meal there. From the 19th century brick row home that houses the restaurant, to the rustic decor, crackling fire in the middle of the open kitchen, and the menu which includes an illustrated postcard of D.C. in the 1800s, Langhorne and his team are hyper-intentional about the whole experience they offer guests. It is as if the past, present, and future are one.

That guest experience, incorporating regional history from the inside out and on every plate, has taken years to cultivate and perfect, and as Langhorne will tell you himself, “This is a lifelong pursuit and goal.” No matter how much training he has had in fine dining from all over the world, Langhorne continues to listen to the voice in his ear about shining a light on his own backyard. The Mid-Atlantic is his playing field, his inspiration for creativity, and the epicenter of his culinary activism. In his very mission to feed people, he has become a champion of the Chesapeake, its traumatic past and its hopeful future.

Opened in 2015, awarded Best New Restaurant (Bon Appetit) in 2016, a Michelin star in 2017, Best Chef (James Beard) in 2018, and local Mid-Atlantic publications along the way, The Dabney celebrates ten years this year, and can add another notch as it is currently a James Beard semi-finalist again, this time for an Outstanding Restaurant award (final selections are made in June).

Like many chefs, however, Langhorne isn’t kept awake at night by awards–albeit he appreciates the attention and doesn’t discount its purpose–what keeps him up instead, is his mission at hand: to make delicious food, underscored by excellence, in a locale he reveres and hopes remains healthy and prosperous.

Sitting On The Dock of the Bay

With him on a boat in the middle of the Chesapeake last summer, Langhorne shared his philosophy about the area, what drives him and his team, and how he encourages other chefs to find ways to support the bay and its surrounding resources. And yet, figuring out how to do all of that without abusing it is a regular concern. Along with longtime colleague Phil Valliant, who now runs Valliant Oysters, and Captain Zack Hoisington, they set out to source dinner for the next day.

Did You Know?

According to the Chesapeake Bay Foundation, the region is home to approximately 18 million people and is the largest estuary in the United States; and the third largest in the world. The Bay holds approximately 15 trillion gallons of water; is home to approximately 3,600 species of plants and animals; 200 miles long; on average 21 feet deep; and supports 348 species of finfish and 173 species of shellfish.

When asked about that rumble inside, the desire to steer his cuisine toward the Chesapeake, he said, “I knew that there was a lot of history here. I knew that there was a lot of depth, but there was no one on the surface talking about it or championing it as a chef. And so for me, it became really important to start to focus on what the region was, as a cuisine and as a place; what were the ingredients and who were the people that made it so special.”

Mission (Not) Impossible

Like many cultures, the regional cuisine and recipes and the ingredients found therein, become “known and accepted as a wonderful expression, sometimes the best expression of a certain ingredient or a certain item,” Langhorne noted. “In the same way that Brittany is known for incredible shellfish and lobsters in France, or you can go to certain prefectures in Japan for the best rice or the the best mushrooms.”

With this in mind, Langhorne set out to study the region and local ingredients, and all the variables–like climate and soil– that may affect them. “I wanted to know what really was the best that the Mid-Atlantic had to offer, and what was the best the Chesapeake Bay Area had to offer,” he said. “Obviously, I’m not going to accomplish that in five, ten, or even 25 years, but it’s something that I felt was important to provide an identity for us.”

Langhorne explains some of what he learned. That before the Industrial Revolution, the U.S. was on its way to creating an identity for regional food rivaling that of other rich, global cuisines. However, with advancements in machinery and shipping, for example, the world expanded. “We no longer needed to focus on what was growing outside our door,” he said.

Because we could soon preserve things, ship things, microwave things, and freeze things, that became the beginning of the end, of sorts, to what was a burgeoning identity for regional cooking in the U.S.

Amidst his cooking career, Langhorne had a stint with Noma in Copenhagen–where utilizing what grows outside your door remains the mission despite its recent shift from restaurant dining to educational forum–an experience that inspired Langhorne to return to the U.S. with a sharpened focus.

“Then, when I spent time in Charleston, South Carolina, working with Sean Brock on reviving low country cuisine, I thought more and more about reviving the cuisine of my homeland and where I came from. And that’s what we’ve been doing, and that’s what will continue to do and work on forever.”

Troubled Past

Amidst Langhorne’s deep dive into the area’s history, he landed on The Oyster Wars [by David Faulkner] that describes the beginning of the bay as we know it. It documents the harmony that once was amongst settled Europeans and Native Americans and the abundance that was unlike anything seen before. Piles of oysters apparently reached 20, 30 ft. and for some time, several hundred years actually, was managed as a food source while keeping the bay clean and safe.

Over time, however, millions of oysters bushes began leaving the Chesapeake, being shipped by train to Kansas City, to Chicago, or New York. “And so as the East Coast and the Mid-Atlantic of the United States start to develop–that depletion started to really unbalance the health of the water in the bay. Oysters help filter the water, they help to keep it clean, and make sure that nature’s balance stays in check.” But, industrial usages, from the types of boats that were dredging oysters, or mono crop and farming, unfortunately put endless amounts of pesticides into the bay.”

By the 1970s, the bay had become so abused, unsafe, untenable, fisheries were dying off. “We used to have incredible things that we could get from the bay. We used to be able to get scallops, for example,” Langhorne noted. “And then we humans disrespected it and abused it. But thankfully, soon realized that we needed to change that.”

Gin-Clear Ahead

Over the last 50 years, projects to re-energize and clean the bay have taken center stage and have been turning things around for the region. There’s more health and abundance now and the trajectory is going in the right direction. Institutions like the Virginia Institute of Marine Science, for example, are constantly working to help promote different types of aquaculture.

Today, the health of the bay is better, and yet not without its challenges. “Another issue that has occurred and has been difficult to overcome, outside the shellfish realm, is blue catfish,” Langhorne said. “It’s an invasive species that was introduced from Asia and originally introduced for sport fishing. They are ferocious predators that will reproduce and grow and take up the majority of the biomass in the bay, not to mention eat up the native species.”

But guess what? On the plus side, blue catfish are delicious. “We serve them at the restaurant all the time, and we will continue to serve them,” Langhorne said. He believes the issue is both a blessing and a curse. In terms of food security, the abundance of the blue catfish available could assist people in need, and on the flipside, rid the bay of a ferocious predator. “There’s a way to connect those dots, to provide delicious fish to more people and help the bay at the same time.”

Bottom Line

As The Dabney celebrates ten years in D.C. (officially in October) Langhorne reflects on the milestone. “I’m really excited to look back at the work we’ve done at establishing ourselves as real champions of the Mid-Atlantic region and the impact that we’ve had on it. Nevertheless, we’re thinking about what’s next, how we can double down on it, and have an even broader impact for the future.”