Mixing in Mobile

A Tale of Tales: Part I

2011-07-28T11:21:00.002-05:00

“So…are you as bummed as I am?” Genevieve said to me over the phone on Monday afternoon. “Yes. I’ve been depressed all day. It’s just not fair.” It was true. Ever since we arrived home in Mobile on Sunday evening, we were in a funk. But let’s rewind a bit, shall we?
As a child, I mixed “potions” in a wee-sized scarred copper pot. At ten, my childhood partner in crime and I concocted a scheme to make a million. We juiced. We squeezed every fruit we could get our hands on. It was going to be a hit. An upscale lemonade stand, if you will. Sadly, our products didn’t exactly take off, but we were pumped full of Vitamin C for at least four years. When I grew up, I found that alcohol could be mixed, muddled, and manipulated the same way. There’s nothing wrong with a Tanquerey and tonic, but what about a cucumber garnish instead of a lime? Or go a little further and tie in the crisp, herbal notes with a few drops of rosemary simple syrup? When my family and friends convene at our beach house on the Gulf of Mexico, they joke about their “resident mixologist,” yours truly. I love to concoct. Which brings us back to Friday, July 22nd.

We (Genevieve, Sarah, and I) left for New Orleans, our bags heavy and our hearts light. As we passed through Alabama and Mississippi, the excitement mounted. We were heading to Tales of the Cocktail, New Orleans’ festival celebrating mixology and the people who make it an art.

As we checked into our hotel, the quaint and affordable Historic French Market Inn, I could hardly contain my excitement. I felt like screaming, “I’m at Tales!” to everyone on Decatur Street. It was Tales’ 9th year and my first. My absence was not purposeful; for some reason, the timing was never right.

We quickly gathered our bearings and headed to the historic Hotel Monteleone, Tales of the Cocktail’s headquarters. We were greeted within seconds by two affable bartenders handing out shots of Saint Germaine, dulcet elderflower nectar redolent of pear, peach and lavender. We clinked glasses and cried, “To Tales!”

At Registration we procured our tickets for the night’s event, the Bar Room Brawl, and our tasting room wristbands, which were included in the price of our ticket. The tasting room wristband, or our unbarred access to everything lovely in life, was the perk of perks. I kept pinching myself to see if it was true. Was this really all for us? Could we really, (if we had arrived on Wednesday, when it began) taste top-notch cocktails in fifty four tasting rooms over five days for only $50? The answer, my friends, was yes; however, before you start calling all of your college buddies or your sorority sisters, be warned. This is not Beerfest. It is isn’t about grabbing “Big Ass Beers” and Hand Grenades on Bourbon Street and hurling your $1.56 Krystal dinner all over the stoop of Larry Flynt’s Hustler. Tales of the Cocktail, or “Tales” as we called it, is about the art of mixing great cocktails. The buzz is just a bonus.

We headed for the Royal Sonesta, where the Remy Cointreau USA Profile Tasting Room was being held in their Acadia Room. Brugal, Cointreau, Highland Park 18, Mount Gay Rum, Remy Martin 1738 Accord Cognac, and Zubrowka Bison Grass Vodka were all a-shaking and a-stirring. We stood around, stunned, for a moment. Suddenly a drink was in our hand (delicious—a Cointreau Cup—recipe below). It tasted fresh, zingy, and appropriate for our first cocktail of the weekend. Our next stop was Zu (Zubrowka) Vodka, a bison-grass spirit with hints of vanilla and almond. A tiny shot magically appeared before us and we tasted the clean, floral, and slightly grassy flavor. Delicious.

One of the most wonderful things about Tales is the atmosphere. It is elegant and refined without being stuffy or pretentious. Everyone is friendly and flushed with drink. No one stumbles or yells to the person standing next to them, oblivious to their volume. The only exhibition of "unsavory behavior" that we witnessed was the strange man (wearing a wristband, by the way) who was taking everyone's leftovers and pouring them into one cup. We, horrified, inwardly begged him not to take a sip...but alas, our pleas went unheeded. Talk about a cocktail of cocktails.

After having our fill (temporarily) of tasty libations, we went to John Besh's Domenica. I was on a fungi kick: I had wild mushroom soup and wild mushroom pizza with fontina, bacon and yard egg. They were both out of this world and provided a perfect base for the rest of the night.

We took a cab to Generations Hall, a large warehouse-style venue Uptown. It was built in the 1820's as a sugar refinery. Here we waited in line for the first and last time all weekend. We presented our tickets, got a green wristband, and entered the Bar Room Brawl. Grand Marnier, Hennessy, Belvedere Vodka and 10 Cane Rum sponsored this particular event, and the mixologists from bars all over the country battled it out. We cheered on Boston's own Eastern Standard, who took home the title. My favorite cocktail was theirs: a gorgeous vibrant watermelon concotion. Please excuse the blur. I just can't understand why my hands so so unsteady.

The Minty Side of the Pillow

2011-07-21T12:58:00.002-05:00

Why is a pot of the most bountiful mint ever riding shotgun in my mother's Honda Civic?

Good question. I left our beach house with this beautiful monster in tow. I was tempted to strap it in with the seatbelt, but I decided to live dangerously. I'm really not sure why it's this big, or why my mother's thumb is is green, but I inherited it, and I'm going to make the most of it.

This will be a mixology blog only. I'm not sure how to use mint in cooking except for in a sauce or garnish. The master recipe is mint simple syrup, and at the risk of using silly puns, it couldn't be "simpler."

Mint Simple Syrup

1 cup sugar
1 cup water
2 handfuls of mint leaves

Combine sugar and water in a medium saucepan over medium-low heat. Bring it to a very light simmer and stir until sugar dissolves. Take off the heat when it is clear and slightly reduced. Bruise the mint leaves with the handle of a wooden spoon, but do not tear them. Add the mint to the syrup and let steep for at least 30 minutes. Remove the mint leaves and refrigerate the syrup in an airtight container. Keeps for about 2 weeks.
Once you've made your mint syrup, there are no limits to its uses. Here are a few of my favorites:

Southern Mint Julep
Makes 1 drink

A mint julep is a simple drink but can actually be quite complicated to make well. It requires the best bourbon, the freshest mint, the finest-crushed ice, and the coldest vessel money can buy. I use Maker's Mark Bourbon. I know it isn't the most expensive of bourbons, but the highest end bourbons shouldn't be mixed. Why mess with perfection? I also use Salisbury Pewter julep cups. They keep the drink so cold that it hurts to hold them. They're pricey at $30 a pop, but again, why mess with perfection? Surprisingly, there are many varieties of mint. I use 'Kentucky Colonel' Mint, which is of the Spearmint variety. I crush the ice by hand with a hammer. I know you think I'm kidding, but I'm not, and my forearms aren't either.

1 1/2 ounces Maker's Mark
3/4 ounce mint syrup
finely crushed ice
3 or 4 spearmint leaves
a mint sprig

Bruise mint leaves with the mint syrup in the bottom of a pewter cup. Fill full of crushed ice.
Add bourbon slowly and stir ever so slightly so as to not melt the ice. Garnish with a mint sprig.

Classic Mojito
Makes 1 drink

Although I am much more of a julep person, sometimes you need something a little lighter and less potent. This is where a mojito comes in. Although I would never adulterate a julep (although I did have a delicious ginger-mint one in New Orleans) a mojito begs to be tinkered. Try muddling your favorite fruit with the mint.

3 lime wedges
2 teaspoons lime juice
1 ounce mint syrup
1 1/2 ounces silver/white rum
a handful of mint leaves
club soda

In the bottom of a highball glass, crush 2 lime wedges with the simple syrup and all but a few of the mint leaves. I use a muddler, but you can use a wooden spoon if you don't have one. Add rum and top with club soda. Garnish with the mint and one lime wedge. Enjoy!

Reunited, and it feels so good.

2011-05-31T11:29:00.000-05:00

First and foremost, I want to apologize for being absent on Mixing in Mobile for so long. I moved away from Mobile, and it felt strange to post on a blog devoted to cooking in Mobile when I wasn't living there.

I'm back. My husband and I just closed on a house in Midtown last month, and we are embarking on the heartsickening and infuriating journey of remodeling a 102-year-old home. I absolutely promise that this is not going to turn into a home renovation blog. I know nothing about remodeling. As much as I will learn in the coming months, I promise to keep to myself...unless asked. Mixing in Mobile will remain a cooking/baking/mixology blog (as soon as I can get internet in the house, and a new kitchen). In the meantime, I am posting a few pictures of our new (to us) house. Enjoy.

What A Tart!

2010-06-30T00:11:00.004-05:00

In T.J. Maxx the other day, I saw a Calphalon tart pan for $7.99. The tart pans I own are the flexible, irritatingly thin pans of yesteryear. This one is sturdy, nonstick, and devastatingly beautiful (yes, gleaming and shiny and beautiful.) I wanted--no needed--- it. I bought it.

So I needed a tart worthy of such a pan. Enter Epicurious.com, my go-to recipe bank. Up comes a Lime Tart with Blackberries and Blueberries. I had a bag of lemons. I had the fruit. I got to work.

The first crust I made was a disaster. The oven at the beach house is hot and fast (sounds like one of those girls your mommas warned you about.) The first crust came out a little crispy, which is a euphemism for burnt, burnt, burnt. The second crust was parfait.

The lemon curd needed a little coddling, as I imagine curds do. I whisked and whisked and whisked my little heart out, and it thickened not. I heard curd can be made quite effectively in the microwave (gasp!) so I gave it a try. It thickened in a New York minute. I wish all of you thick curd, but if it doesn't work, nuke it in 25 second intervals, whisking after each one.

The finished product, y'all, was AWE-SOME. Try it, now.

Lemon Blackberry Tart with Shortbread Crust
Serves 8-10

Adapted from Bon Appetit

Lemon Curd

3 large eggs

3 large egg yolks

1 cup sugar

3/4 cup fresh lemon juice

6 tablespoons (3/4 stick) unsalted butter, cut into 6 pieces

Fruit Topping

1 pint fresh blackberries

½ pint fresh blueberries

Shortbread Crust

1 ½ sticks butter, room temperature

1/3 cup sugar

1 large egg yolk

Scant 2 cups all-purpose flour

1 large pinch of salt

For lemon curd:

Set fine metal strainer over medium bowl and set aside. Whisk eggs, egg yolks, and sugar in another medium bowl (glass or metal). Whisk in lemon juice. Set bowl over large saucepan of gently simmering water (do not allow bottom of bowl to touch water). Whisk constantly until curd thickens, about 12 minutes. If curd isn't thickening, turn up the heat on the water. When thick, immediately pour curd through prepared strainer set over bowl. Add butter to warm strained curd; whisk until blended and smooth. Press plastic wrap directly onto surface of curd, covering completely. Refrigerate until cold.
For crust:
Using electric mixer, beat butter and sugar in medium bowl until well blended, 1 to 2 minutes. Add egg yolk; beat to blend. Add flour and salt and mix on low speed until mixture resembles large peas. Using hands, knead in bowl just until dough comes together.
Transfer dough to 10-inch-diameter tart pan with removable bottom. Press dough evenly up sides and onto bottom of pan. Chill 20 minutes.
Preheat oven to 325 degrees F. Bake until golden brown, about 28 minutes. Cool completely in pan on rack.
For topping:
Remove sides from tart pan and place crust on plate. Spread lime curd evenly in baked crust. Arrange blackberries in a circle around the edge of the crust. Mound blueberries in center of tart. Serve immediately.

Summer Sauté

2010-06-26T23:25:00.004-05:00

I’m always looking for that perfect summer side dish: the one that goes with almost every meal and takes very little effort to prepare. This summer, I’ve found it. It’s easy, delicious, and showcases some of summer’s best and freshest ingredients. Some may wrinkle their noses at first, but try it once and you’ll be hooked for good.

The following recipe is so simple; it takes a handful of inexpensive ingredients. Of the utmost importance is the freshness of the ingredients. If at all possible, make sure your corn, tomatoes, and okra are field-fresh and ripe. To test the freshness of corn, peel back a little of the husk and dig your fingernail into a kernel. It should pop and ooze a milky liquid if it’s fresh. Tomatoes should be bright red (on the vine, not hothouse) with few blemishes or soft spots. Okra should be bright green and plump. Select the smallest pods from the batch.

The best thing about this recipe is that it accompanies everything, from sausages to steaks, chicken to lamb. I’ve been known to just eat a bowl of it for dinner, it’s that delicious. You could add minced scallions and chopped jalapenos to the first sauté step, but I prefer it without. Try it next weekend for a 4th of July cookout!

Corn, Okra and Tomato Sauté
Serves 6

1 large green bell pepper, coarsely chopped (optional)
3 tablespoons unsalted butter
1 tablespoon olive oil
1 pound tomatoes, coarsely chopped (don’t worry about peeling them)
3 cups corn (from 5 to 6 ears)
1/2 pound small fresh okra, washed and cut into bite-sized pieces
a squeeze of lemon juice
salt and pepper

Cook bell pepper in oil and butter in a large heavy skillet over medium heat, stirring occasionally, 7 to 9 minutes. Stir in tomatoes and cook, stirring occasionally, until broken down into a sauce, about 15 minutes. Add corn and okra and cook, stirring occasionally, until just tender, about 15 minutes. Season with lemon juice, and lots of freshly ground salt and pepper.

Moonlight on the Gulf of Mexico 6.26.2010

Grocery Store Detour

2010-05-14T22:19:00.004-05:00

I rarely have weekend nights home alone. My husband and I have a long-standing rivalry in Texas Hold-Em, and Friday and Saturday nights are spent either out with friends or see-sawing back and forth for the Championship. This Friday night (tonight) was a rare night alone. I craved ice cream, so I went to the store. I am probably one of the few people who venture to the store at 8:30 pm for some sweet treats only to return with a prickly vegetable and some grand notions of homemade mayonnaise.

I have never been a mayo person. I live for mustard: Dijon, ballpark, Creole, spicy brown, whatever. I am a mustard devotee. I recently read one of Molly Wizenberg’s articles in an old Bon Appétit on homemade mayonnaise. It stuck in my head, apparently enough to weasel itself into my ice cream dreams. Best of all, mayo only requires staples: egg yolk, oil, vinegar, lemon juice, and Dijon (yay!). Substitute olive oil and add garlic, and it’s an aioli. Who would have thought?

If I was going to put forth the effort to make mayonnaise, I was going to go all out. When I perused the produce and came across fresh artichokes, I was hell-bent on being French tonight. There was one little setback. I wasn’t prepared for the absolute nuisance of trimming an artichoke. Don’t get me wrong; it’s not actually difficult, just irritatingly messy. Bring a pot of salted water to a boil. To the artichoke, “pull off the tough outer leaves.” Given the twelve or so layers, what constitutes outer was a head-scratcher for me. I mean, how many of the layers are tough? They all looked pretty fibrous to me. Then, cut an inch off the top. Then cut the tip of each leaf off with a pair of scissors. Then the surgery begins. The inside of an artichoke is dark, purple, and prickly, my tender fingers then discovered. Pull out the purple leaves inside, and with a sharp spoon-like instrument (a grapefruit spoon would be ideal) carve out the fuzzy, prickly, “choke.” This was the irritatingly messy part. It’s like blowing a dandelion blossom (or two) all over your kitchen counter. Once the choke is out, you’re ready to roll.

Coat all the cut surfaces with lemon juice to prevent browning. Boil the artichokes in the water for about 30 minutes. Test for readiness by tugging on a leaf; if it comes out easily, they’re ready to eat. Drain and place in a bowl of lemon-juiced water while you make the mayo.

Homemade Mayonnaise Makes 1 cup

Adapted from Bon Appétit

1 large egg yolk

The juice from one lemon, freshly squeezed

1 teaspoon white wine vinegar

A dollop of Dijon mustard

1/2 teaspoon salt plus more to taste

3/4 cup canola oil, divided

Combine egg yolk, lemon juice, vinegar, mustard, and 1/2 teaspoon salt in medium bowl. Whisk until blended and bright yellow, about 30 seconds. Using 1/4 teaspoon measure and whisking constantly, add 1/4 cup oil to yolk mixture. Gradually add remaining 1/2 cup oil in very slow thin stream, whisking constantly, until mayonnaise is thick. Cover and chill.

I put on a Sinatra record and got to work. Pull leaf off, dip, scrape the bottom part between teeth. I love artichokes already, so I mistakenly thought I wasn’t in for some kind of epiphany. The mayonnaise was kind of delicious. Actually, it was sublime. Silky, smooth, tangy, not in the same genus, species, or even kingdom as the jarred glop. I may have put a bit too much Dijon in it but I loved the flavor. I think I may have to hide the ingredients because I’m afraid I’ll eat it on everything. The Belgians have it right: French fries with mayo? Oh yeah.

Why is it called corned beef if it has nothing to do with corn?

2010-03-18T13:46:00.005-05:00

This question has always puzzled me. I get that it's brined with coarse salt (referred to as "corns" or grains) but that doesn't seem close enough for me to warrant the name. Then I tell myself to shut up and eat it.

It is probably no surprise to those who know me that I like tradition. On every St. Patrick's Day, I do corned beef and cabbage, or a "New England Boiled Dinner." I like it this way. I don't like to mess with tradition. That said, I look more forward to the morning after than the corned beef dinner itself. I like corned beef, but I love the much-criticized corned beef hash. Let me make you all aware, this corned beef hash recipe is nothing like the canned dog food slop. It is salty and rich, and positively divine for a weekend breakfast. I begin with the basic “New England Boiled Dinner” recipe. Corned beef braises for several hours, resulting in tender fall-apart meat. Cabbage, potatoes and carrots boil in the broth. Voila, flavorful vegetables!

I like to use red potatoes for some aesthetic reason; I feel that the colors are prettier on the plate. I prefer to cook everything in a Dutch oven rather than a slow cooker; slow cookers tend to boil everything into a mush. With a Dutch oven, the end result is separately cooked meat and vegetables that actually keep their shape. The corned beef hash is a morning-after recipe, as it makes use of the leftover meat. Topping a mass of tangled beef and potatoes with a perfectly poached egg is my idea of a fabulous breakfast. If poaching isn’t your thing, fried eggs would also be perfect with the hash.

Basic Corned Beef Dinner

Serves 6

1 corned beef brisket, about 4 pounds (with seasoning packet)

3 cups beef broth

1 medium onion, cut in 6 to 8 wedges

1 clove garlic, minced

2 1/2 to 3 pounds new potatoes, washed and quartered

4 large carrots, halved and cut into 3-inch lengths

1 small head green cabbage, cored and cut into 6 wedges

Put the corned beef in a 6- to 8-quart Dutch oven; add beef broth, the contents of the seasoning packet, and add water just until beef is covered. Add garlic and onion. Bring to a boil; reduce heat to low, cover, and simmer for 2 hours. Remove the corned beef to a platter, cover with foil, and keep warm. Place a heavy pot on top of foil to weigh down meat for easier slicing. Skim fat from the broth and add the potatoes and carrots to the broth. Bring to a boil; cover, reduce heat to medium-low and cook for 10 minutes. Add cabbage wedges and continue cooking for about 20 minutes or until cabbage and vegetables are tender. Discard the broth, reserving the vegetables. Slice the corned beef and serve with the vegetables and a Guinness.

Corned Beef Hash

Serves 4

6-7 slices leftover corned beef, shredded with a fork

2-3 red potatoes, boiled and cut into 1 inch pieces

½ onion, diced

2 tablespoon vegetable oil

4 eggs, cooked to your liking

Combine meat, potatoes and onions in a small bowl with one of tablespoon oil. Heat remaining oil in a medium skillet. When oil is hot, pour meat-potato mixture into skillet and flatten with spatula, pressing out moisture and squishing the potatoes. Cook for 4-5 minutes until thoroughly browned and crisp, and then flip. It is easier to flip sections at a time. To serve, top with a fried or poached egg and enjoy!

The Phattest Fat Tuesday Ever

2010-02-16T16:02:00.005-06:00

The title is a joke. Really. I just liked the sound of it. In all seriousness, today is Fat Tuesday and it calls for some serious eats. Gumbo is my go-to for any sort of Cajun, New Orleans, or Mardi gras themed celebration. It's easy. It's delicious in a meaty, creeping-heat at the back of your throat kind of way. Any smoked sausage will do, but I prefer Conecuh. It’s a perfect accompaniment to chicken in gumbo. Once the roux turns the color of a penny, you’re ready to add the vegetables. I prefer okra in my gumbo, but if you don’t care for it you can substitute your choice of vegetable or just leave it out altogether. Gumbo isn’t an exact science (some Louisiana cooks might disagree) so use your taste as a guide.

Chicken and Sausage Gumbo
Serves 10

2 tablespoons vegetable oil
1 tablespoon butter

1/2 pound smoked sausage, (preferably Andouille), sliced into 1/4-inch thick rounds
6 chicken legs
4 cups chicken stock
4 cups water
2 tablespoons flour
1 cup chopped onion
1 cup chopped celery
1 cup chopped green pepper
1 cup okra, sliced into ½-inch rounds
2 cloves garlic, minced
2 bay leaves
1/2 teaspoon dried thyme
2 teaspoons hot pepper sauce
1/4 teaspoon salt
1/8 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper
2 tablespoons chopped fresh parsley
Hot cooked rice

Heat 1 tablespoons of the oil in a heavy Dutch oven over medium-high heat; add chicken legs and cook until browned, about 7 minutes. Remove with slotted spoon and set aside. Add butter and remaining oil and stir flour into pot. Cook over medium heat until roux is browned, about the color of a penny. Add okra, onion, celery, green pepper, and garlic. Cook vegetables until slightly soft, about 5 minutes. Add chicken legs, stock and water. Add bay leaves, thyme, and hot sauce. Bring to boil and cook 1 ½ hours, until chicken is falling off bones. Remove chicken from pot and cool slightly. Remove meat from bones, discarding skin and bones; cut meat into 1/2-inch cubes and put back in pot. Season with salt, pepper, or hot sauce. To serve, mound about 1/3 cup rice in each soup bowl, then ladle about 1 cup gumbo around rice. Garnish with parsley.

Any Excuse to Eat Chocolate

2010-02-12T16:07:00.019-06:00

My husband and I don’t generally celebrate Valentine’s Day with any fanfare, but sometimes I like to cook a nice meal for the two of us midway through the month of February. Plus, I can never pass up an excuse to bake dessert.

For a sweet finish, this pie is crunchy, gooey and chocolaty. When I flipped through the Valentine’s Day issue of Bon Appetit, a gorgeous tart caught me eye. Their version was Milk Chocolate and Caramel with Hazelnuts and Espresso. I had pecans and dark chocolate. Their version prompted a homemade shortbread tart crust. I had a frozen pie shell. Their garnish was roasted cocoa nibs. I stuck with toasted chopped pecans.

Needless to say, the only thing that remained the same was the caramel.

Whether or not you celebrate Valentine’s Day, there’s always time to eat well with your loved ones; the red paper doilies are optional.

Dark Chocolate Caramel Pie with Pecans

Serves 8

1 pie crust

Caramel:

3/4 cup sugar

1/4 cup water

1/3 cup heavy whipping cream

2 tablespoons (1/4 stick) unsalted butter, cut into 1/2-inch cubes

1 teaspoon apple cider vinegar

1/4 teaspoon sea salt

½ cup pecans, toasted and chopped coarsely (bake at 350 degrees on a baking sheet for approximately 5 minutes, stir once)

Chocolate:

1/3 cup heavy whipping cream

4 ounces dark chocolate chips (I use either Ghirardelli’s Bittersweet or Hershey’s Special Dark)

1 tablespoon unsalted butter

chopped toasted pecans for garnish

Bake pie crust at 350 degrees until lightly browned, about 8 minutes.

For caramel filling, stir sugar and 1/4 cup water in heavy medium saucepan over medium heat until sugar dissolves. Increase heat and boil without stirring until syrup is medium amber, swirling pan instead of stirring, about 8 minutes. Remove pan from heat. Add cream (mixture will bubble up). Place saucepan over medium heat; stir until caramel bits dissolve. Add butter, vinegar, and salt; stir until butter melts. Stir in pecans. Caramel may be bubbly; don’t worry, it will settle in the refrigerator. Pour filling into crust. Chill until cold and set, about 30 minutes.

For chocolate: Bring cream to simmer over medium-high heat, stirring occasionally. Remove from heat and add chocolate and butter; stir until smooth. Spread chocolate mixture over caramel. Sprinkle with chopped pecans. Chill tart until topping is set, about 1 hour.

Biscuits, finally, and one seriously large ham.

2010-01-20T18:45:00.061-06:00

I can't tell you how many times I've made biscuits. They've never turned out right. Once I burned them, but I was standing right in front of the oven. That's how biscuit-challenged I am. All I wanted was a traditional Southern buttermilk biscuit. They steam when you slide a knife between the layers. The top and bottoms are just slightly browned. A few buttery flakes fall onto your lap when you take your first bite. They taste like heaven on Earth. I knew a good biscuit only needs three things: shortening, flour, and milk. I chose Crisco, White Lily self rising flour, and buttermilk.

First step: measure f self-rising flour in a large bowl. Cut in shortening. I couldn't find my pastry cutter, so I used my hands to blend the Crisco into the flour. I stirred in a little more than 2/3 cup buttermilk. Stirring with a wooden spoon, I mixed until all dry ingredients were fully incorporated into the wet.
I squished all the dough into a large ball, flouring it a little more to keep it from sticking.

I rolled it out about 1/2 inch thick and cut rounds out with a 2-inch biscuit cutter. These I placed on a baking sheet. I baked them for approximately 10 minutes until golden brown on bottom and top. (See first picture for finished product)

This time I wanted biscuits for country ham. A few years ago when my husband and I went to Virginia to visit my grandparents, we went to the Smithfield Ham store around the corner from my Granny's apartment. We bought a pound; Grant ate half within minutes. It was his first taste of the almost unbearably salty, paper-thin slices of melt-in-your-mouth ham. I've been eating it since I could remember. I equate family holidays with hot biscuits nestling transparent shards of pink pork. The only thing I've altered is the condiment: instead of mayo, I prefer a tiny sliver of butter...but I digress.

Over the holidays, my mother bought Grant a Smithfield ham. A whole one. Smithfield hams are salt and pepper crusted and cured for at least six months. They require one to scrub the mold off of the skin and soak the ham in cold water for at least 24 hours; hence it requires preparation, something in which I've never excelled. We lugged out the cooler and filled it with cold water. Grant scrubbed away and plunked in the ham.

24 hours later, I ungracefully wrapped the entire thing in aluminum foil and poured 4 cups of water within the foil. Baked at 300 for 5 1/2 hours, the ham came out looking almost exactly the same as it did when it went in, except cooked. Much to my chagrin, I had to slice off the skin and fat in huge strips. I didn't love it. I felt kind of serial-killer-ish, actually. When the dirty deed was done, I had a lovely ham that took another 45 minutes to slice properly.

Country ham is salty. It needs to be sliced--nay, shaved--to be able to be served in biscuits. With my trusty Wustoff Classic filet knife, I made quick work of the entire 15.56 pound monster.

Buttermilk Biscuits
Makes 8-12 biscuits

2 cups self-rising flour
4 tablespoons shortening
a little more than 2/3 cup buttermilk

Preheat oven to 450 degrees. In a large bowl, cut shortening into flour either with your hands or a pastry cutter. With a wooden spoon, stir in buttermilk. Fully incorporate the dry ingredients into the wet. Form dough into a ball. On a floured surface, roll dough with a rolling pin approximately 1/2 inch thick. Cut into 2 inch rounds with a biscuit cutter. Bake on a cookie sheet for 8-12 minutes.

Smithfield Ham
Feeds an army and a half

Follow the directions on the burlap sack in which it is packaged.

A Decent Omelet

2010-01-12T16:37:00.036-06:00

It may be a urban legend, but word has it a famous French chef asks all of his potential sous chefs to prepare a omelette before he hires them. I've been making omelets for almost twenty years; however, I've made approximately twelve omelets that I'd willingly present to a renowned chef. I don't claim to be an omelet master. My omelets are usually stuffed with goodies like goat cheese, a pork product, and some vegetables (if truly necessary). If one belongs to the less is more camp you can never go wrong with a good sharp cheddar and some freshly cracked pepper.

That said, I do have a formula that works for me. I start with a 10-inch, heavy nonstick pan and heat it over medium heat. French chefs, who often don't care about their hearts, use butter. I use PAM.

After whisking the two eggs in a cup, I pour them in the skillet, twisting it to cover the entire surface.

After about a minute and a half over medium high heat, the eggs will be set enough to fill. I used chopped grape tomatoes and plain goat cheese. I sprinkled them on the left half of the omelet. A twist of salt and pepper would be welcome at this stage, too.

Now comes the fun part. Using a spatula, I loosened the edges and flipped the other half over the filling.

Slide it onto a plate and voila!

Lucky 2010

2009-12-30T10:22:00.005-06:00

I once made a frantic late night trip to the grocery store on New Year’s Eve for a can of black eyed peas. Knowing it would be closed the next day, I left a friend’s party, drove to the nearest grocery store, and came back to the party clutching my can of peas. They remained in my purse for the night, and I happily cracked them open the next day and dug in. Why, you ask, would I go to such great lengths for a can of legumes? For the first eighteen years of my life, I would come downstairs on January 1st to find my mother waiting for me to take my first bite of black eyed peas.

A Southern tradition, the eating of black eyed peas on New Year’s Day is said to guarantee good luck for the entire year. I have heard a few “rationalizations” for this legend, one being that the peas resemble coins, and eating them would guarantee wealth. Another story is that during the War, the city of Vicksburg (VA) ran out of food, and would have starved if it wasn’t for a crop of black eyed peas. Whatever the lucky significance, I have never gone a year without having at least one bite of black eyed peas, and I don’t intend to, ever.

Collard greens are another Southern food often consumed on New Year’s Day. Its vibrant green color symbolizes wealth and good fortune. Usually Southern greens are prepared with lots of bacon and pork fat. In uncharacteristic fashion, I omitted the pork and cooked them the healthier way. This way, I can drink the "pot likker," or the liquid that results from the cooked greens. It is usually eaten with cornbread crumbled into it, but I like it in a coffee mug. It's like green V-8. Whichever way they're prepared, it's essential that they're served with a vinegar pepper sauce not to be confused with hot pepper sauce. Vinegar pepper sauce is a slender jar of clearish liquid with twenty or so small green peppers stuffed into it. Although I’ve eaten my share of collard greens, for some reason my family has always prepared black eyed peas instead. I've decided to do both for a double dose of luck. You can't have too much, you know.

In other parts of the world, such as Germany, Austria, Sweden, Spain, Cuba, and Hungary, pork is considered lucky if consumed on New Year’s Day. According to Bon Appetit, pork is said to symbolize progress because of the animal’s behavior, always rooting and pushing forward with its snout. What do you know? I barbequed two butts a few days ago. I hope leftovers are just as lucky.

Hoppin’ John
Serves 8

3 slices bacon, chopped
1 small onion, finely chopped
1 stalk celery, finely chopped
1 garlic clove, minced
2 pounds black-eyed peas, soaked overnight
Salt and freshly ground black pepper
Red pepper flakes
3 cups water
Hot cooked rice

In a large saucepan, fry the bacon over moderate heat till almost crisp and pour off all but about a little of the grease. Add the onion, celery, and garlic and cook, stirring, for 2 minutes. Add the peas, salt and pepper, red pepper flakes, and water, bring to a boil, reduce the heat to low, cover, and simmer till the peas are tender but not mushy, about 1 hour. Drain the peas. Serve them in small bowls over mounds of hot rice.

Collard Greens
Serves 8

2 bunches fresh collard greens or kale
1 large onion, peeled and diced
1 clove garlic, sliced paper thin
2 tablespoons cider vinegar
1 teaspoon dried red pepper flakes
2 teaspoons salt

Remove the tougher, woody stalks from the collard leaves. Smaller stems are okay. Wash the leaves and cut them into half-inch-wide strips. Put the collards in a large stock pot and cover with cool water. Add the rest of the ingredients. Bring to a boil and cook for at least 2 hours.

Beets Me

2009-12-28T11:39:00.007-06:00

Beets are a rather controversial vegetable. Along with Brussels sprouts, people love to hate beets. I was the Queen of Beet Haters until I ordered a roasted beet salad with burrata cheese at Herbsaint in New Orleans. Don't ask me why I ordered it; perhaps my culinary bravado was bolstered by a few glasses of Bordeaux. It was the perfect salad.

Beets have an impossible-to-describe earthy flavor. In the same way you can taste the sunshine that ripened a summer tomato, you can taste the dirt in which beets grow. I mean that in the best way possible. Since the epiphany in New Orleans, I've made a similar salad that fits as a starter for almost every meal.
Burrata cheese is a fresh, creamy cheese encased in mozzarella. It is sublime but a suitable substitute is any fresh chevre (goat cheese). The beauty of this salad is that the beets stain the cheese a vibrant, gorgeous fushia. I love to stack the slices of beets in between clumps of goat cheese and peppery leaves of lettuce.

Roasted Beet and Goat Cheese Salad
Serves 6

3 fresh beets, washed, trimmed of stem and greens
salt and pepper
6 handfuls of mixed spring greens
6 ounces of fresh goat cheese
Preheat oven to 400 degrees. Wrap beets in a large rectangle of aluminum foil, making sure to seal top carefully. Place foil package seal side up on oven rack and roast for 45 to 60 minutes. Rinse beets and scrub skins off with a paper towel (the skins will slip off easily). Cut beets into wedges and divide greens, goat cheese and beets on 6 plates.

A Vintage Find

2009-12-10T15:25:00.003-06:00

This week, while at an antique store, I picked up a 1956 edition of Better Crocker’s Picture Cook Book. I have a thing for vintage anything, but it was the yellowed pages and taped bindings that made me unable to put it down and leave. I knew, for fifty years, this book has been loved and used; it didn’t hurt that at ten dollars it was a good deal. I was especially intrigued by the claim on the inside cover page: “It’s A Cook Book With A Heart.” Modern cookbooks are mostly filled with recipes accompanied by spectacular pictures. This book is vastly different. The graphics are either stylized illustrations or grainy photos no bigger than a post card. The font is tiny; the words are magnificent. From a section on vegetables: “…Vegetables are like people. By treating them with sympathy and understanding, they give us their best in color, nutrients, and flavor” (421). I couldn’t help but read aloud the witticisms present on each page. Explanations of culinary terms made me laugh: canapés = “midget open faced sandwiches" (304). Despite the simplistic language, I quickly found this book held a weighty collection of meaningful recipes.

Because of the season, I flipped straight to the soup section. I was rewarded with a passage about pot au feu, a French beef stew: “All the flavors are extracted and blended during the long cooking while the kettle smiles and chuckles, but never laughs outright in a full rollicking boil” (409). Inspired, I flipped through to find directions for our dinner. Only a 1956 Betty Crocker cookbook would publish such culinary wisdom and then omit a recipe. I perused the soup recipes and found a recipe for turkey soup.

1956 Turkey Soup
Serves 6-8

Turkey soup is the quintessential end of the holidays. As the book states, it is the “curtain call of the holiday bird” (413). You can use a chicken, goose, turkey, or duck. The recipe in the book is pretty bare bones (pun intended), so I decided to add a few of my own additions.

1 bird carcass with plenty of meat
3 stalks celery, chopped
1 carrot, chopped
1 onion, diced
6 peppercorns
1 bay leaf
½ teaspoon chopped fresh thyme
1 teaspoon chopped fresh sage
8 ounces wide egg noodles
salt
pepper

Place carcass and peppercorns in a large soup pot. Cover with water. Simmer for 2 hours. Remove meat from carcass and set aside (discard bones). Strain stock. Add meat to stock in pot. Add celery, carrot, onion, bay, thyme and sage. Bring to boil and simmer for 30 minutes until vegetables are tender. Bring back to boil and add egg noodles. Cook for 15 minutes until noodles are cooked. Salt and pepper to taste. Serve.

On a final note, who wouldn’t want to take culinary advice from a book that claims butter "promotes growth" and "builds resistance to disease”(45)? I'm all for the nutritional advice.

Cited: Betty Crocker’s Picture Cook Book: Revised and Enlarged. 2nd Ed. New York: McGraw-Hill, 1956.

Homemade Treats

2009-11-29T16:31:00.004-06:00

I love to make my own presents for the holidays. Not only is it cheaper, but it is much more enjoyable for me than shopping, and people appreciate the extra effort. From the actual baking to the packaging of the goodies, I love it all. It's always nice to have help; my neighbor has more craft-savviness in her little finger than I do in my whole body. I recently went to a cookie exchange. Before this year, I had never heard of a cookie swap. The month before, we did a soup exchange; Christmas seemed to warrant something more festive. We had nine women and fourteen different kinds of cookies at our exchange. I brought snowballs, the recipe at the end of this entry. They went fast, but all of the cookies did. It was a lot of fun; I highly recommend having one every year.

On a trip to Birmingam, Elizabeth and I stopped at Williams-Sonoma, one of my favorite stores. E picked up a box of Fleur de Sel Caramels. One word: wow. The dark chocolate-enrobed caramels are dusted with a tiny sprinkle of fleur de sel, which crunches in the teeth. At first you taste the caramel: rich, smooth and sweet. The fleur de sel crystals melt, mixing with the bittersweet chocolate. The result is smooth, salty, rich, and velvety. I decided I simply had to recreate them at home.
You don't have to have fleur de sel, but it helps. I used a mixture of Himalayan pink salt and Fleur de sel for my testing.
My first attempt at making a caramel went terribly awry. While caramelizing the sugar, I became engrossed in Food Network Humor and was brought back to reality by a cloud of smoke and black lava bubbling in my Calphalon saucepan. The second attempt was much more successful:

Sea Salt Caramels
Makes about 3 dozen
1 cup heavy cream
5 tablespoons unsalted butter, cut into pieces
1 teaspoon good quality large-crystal sea salt
1 1/2 cups sugar
1/4 cup light corn syrup
1/4 cup water

8 ounces dark chocolate, melted

Line bottom and sides of an 8-inch square baking pan with parchment paper, then lightly oil parchment. Bring cream, butter, and sea salt to a boil in a small saucepan, then remove from heat and set aside. Boil sugar, corn syrup, and water in a 3- to 4-quart heavy saucepan, stirring until sugar is dissolved. Boil, without stirring but gently swirling pan, until mixture is a light golden caramel. Carefully stir in cream mixture (mixture will bubble up) and simmer, stirring frequently, until caramel reaches the soft ball stage,* 10 to 15 minutes. Pour into baking pan and cool 2 hours. Cut into 1-inch pieces. Dip each piece in melted dark chocolate, then let harden on a wire rack.

*This stage can be determined by dropping a spoonful of hot caramel into a bowl of ice cold water. If it has reached soft-ball stage, the caramel easily forms a ball pinched between fingers while in the cold water.

Snowball Cookies
Makes 2 dozen cookies

1 1/2 cups all purpose flour
1/2 cup cornstarch
1/4 teaspoon salt
1/4 cup powdered sugar
1 cup unsalted butter, room temperature
1 teaspoon pure vanilla extract
1 cup powdered sugar, sifted

In a medium sized bowl whisk together the flour, cornstarch and salt. Set aside.In the bowl of your electric mixer (or with a hand mixer), cream the butter and sugar until light and fluffy (about 2 minutes). Beat in the vanilla extract. Add the flour mixture and beat until incorporated. Form a ball of dough. Turn dough out onto a piece of wax/parchment paper. Wrap paper around the dough and place in the refrigerator for 1 hour.
Preheat oven to 350 degrees and place rack in center of oven. Line two baking sheets with parchment paper. When dough is firm, form into 1 inch balls and place the cookies on the prepared baking sheets spacing about 1 inch apart. Bake for about 12 - 14 minutes or until the cookies start to firm up. Remove from oven and place on a wire rack to cool for about 5 minutes.Meanwhile, line another baking sheet or tray with parchment or wax paper. Lay the cookies out on the sheet. Sift the sugar over the cookies, rolling the side in the sugar to completely coat.

*Side Note: After making the caramels, if you have extra melted chocolate and Halloween Oreos you got at Winn-Dixie for $1 on hand, try this.

A Quest for Ooey-Gooey

2009-11-15T16:36:00.006-06:00

Every family has holiday rituals. I come from a long line of bakers; therefore, our holiday rituals usually involve sugar, flour, and butter. Some may even look forward to certain holidays because it’s the only time one can get that special dish. For me, it’s my father’s cinnamon rolls. Too loaded with delicious fat and delectable sugar to be breakfast staples, these softball-sized pastries are the highlight of my visits home. Every Christmas morning, I know I will awake to a buttery, gooey, and absolutely decadent treat. Calorie-wise, no one should eat even a whole one, but by noon the entire pan is licked clean.

There’s something comforting about making something as labor-intensive as a batch of cinnamon rolls. I was yeast-phobic up until recently, when I realized if I accidentally kill it I can just open another packet and start over. You combine some ingredients and watch as they transform into a cohesive, silky ball of dough. The dough magically doubles in size, after which you tenderly roll it out. After filling, rolling, slicing and baking, you have a labor of love so delicious that after one bite, you’ll hear moans of delight from your family and friends. They’re also addicting. If you make them once, you’ll make them year after year, if only because of the flood of requests.
Now, the following recipe will provide some pretty good cinnamon rolls, but they're not my dad's. It's a good starter recipe: a sweet, flaky roll with a delicious center. Back to my dad, I have no idea what he does that makes them so ridiculously gooey. We're talking melt -in-your-mouth, sweet delight. Apparently I don't have the touch. I have a plane ticket to go home for Christmas, and as God as my witness, I will never be hungry for a gooey cinnamon roll again.

Yummy Cinnamon Rolls

1 packet active dry yeast
1 cup warm milk
1/2 cup granulated sugar
1/3 cup butter
1 teaspoon salt
2 eggs
4 cups flour
1 cup packed brown sugar
3 tablespoons cinnamon
1/3 cup butter, softened

Cream Cheese Icing

8 tablespoons butter
1 1/2 cups powdered sugar
1/4 cup cream cheese
1/2 teaspoon vanilla
1/8 teaspoon salt

Preheat oven to 400 degrees. For the rolls, dissolve the yeast in the warm milk in a large bowl. Let it sit for 5 minutes. Add sugar, butter, salt, eggs, and flour, mix until the dough is elastic and smooth. Knead the dough into a large ball. Put in a lightly greased bowl, cover and let rise in a warm place about 1 hour or until the dough has doubled in size. Punch the dough down. Roll the dough out into a rectangle on a lightly floured surface, about ¼-inch thick. To make the filling, combine the brown sugar and cinnamon in a bowl. Spread the softened butter over the surface of the dough, then sprinkle the brown sugar and cinnamon evenly over the surface. Working carefully, from the long edge, roll the dough down to the bottom edge. Cut the dough into 12 even slices, and place in a lightly greased baking pan. Bake for 10 minutes or until light golden brown. While the rolls are baking, make the icing. Beat all of the ingredients well with an electric mixer until fluffy. When the rolls are done, spread generously with icing.

Pizza, Pizza!

2009-10-26T13:08:00.014-05:00

There are few things in life better than great friends and fabulous food; in fact, as I try to come up with some, they all have to do with food. This past weekend the husband and I spent the night over on the other side of the Bay with our friends Scott and Elizabeth. The night began with debauchery, as all fabulous nights do, at the Redneck Riviera party in downtown Fairhope. There is a reason those photographs will not grace the pages of this blog: to protect the guilty in their redneck-iest getups. We drank beer and wine, and ate BBQ, in mullet wigs, cowboy boots, flannel shirts, and NASCAR t's. It was a grand old time. After we determined the barbeque was just a snack, we ventured to an exquisite sushi restaurant, Master Joe's, and gorged on a variety of amazing rolls and gyoza. If I didn't love Fairhope before, I certainly did then.

After returning home to S&E's lovely house on the Bay, we continued our party on their pier while watching shooting stars and enjoying the cool fall weather. When we awoke the next morning, hazy from our fun the night before, nothing sounded better than grilling pizza.

There are a million reasons to make homemade pizza, including knowing it will be a thousand times better than anything you can carry out of a store. Grilling pizza is just turning it up a thousand more notches. True pizza, of the Napoli ilk, is thin and crisp, charred on the bottom and bubbled on top. It is covered in fresh, high quality ingredients like artichoke hearts, wild mushrooms, and folds of prosciutto, or mild italian sausage, pepperoni, roasted red peppers, and onions.

Pizza sauce

1 28-ounce can San Marzano whole tomatoes

16 leaves fresh basil
2 cloves garlic
2 tsp tomato paste
salt and pepper to taste

Puree all ingredients in a food processor.

Pizza Dough

3/4 cup warm water
1 envelope active dry yeast
1/4 cup whole wheat flour

1 1/2 cups all purpose flour
1 teaspoon sugar
3/4 teaspoon salt
2 tablespoons olive oil

Combine the water, sugar and yeast in a cup and let proof for 5 minutes. We used a KitchenAid mixer, so in the mixing bowl, combine the flour and the salt. Add the yeast mixture and, using dough hook, mix until a soft dough forms. Knead on speed 2 for 2 minutes, adding more flour if necessary to form a smooth dough. Place in greased bowl, turning to grease top. Cover, let rise in warm place until doubled in bulk (about 1 hour). Punch dough down. Divide in half and roll each half out with a rolling pin. Grill one side until the dough is bubbling and browned, then flip, top with sauce and desired goodies, and grill until cheese is melted and sauce is bubbling.

The Oinker

3/4 cup mini pepperoni

1 roasted* red pepper, chopped

2 mild sausage link, grilled and sliced

1/2 cup pineapple chunks, cut into small pieces

4 slices onion, roasted with peppers

4 ounces fresh mozzarella, sliced

1/2 cup shredded fontina cheese

1/2 cup shredded mozzarella

salt

pepper

*We roasted the red pepper and onions on a baking sheet at 450 degrees until the pepper was charred. Then we placed it in a bag and steamed it until the skin fell off.

Adulterated Veggie

1 can artichoke hearts

1 roasted yellow pepper, chopped

2 slices proscuitto, sliced into thin strips

1 8-ounce package of assorted wild mushrooms, sauteed in olive oil

4 ounces fresh mozzarella, sliced

1/2 cup shredded fontina

1/2 cup shredded mozzarella

Short and Sweet

2009-10-19T11:25:00.003-05:00

When I first cracked the pages of Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban, I fell in love with the concept of butterbeer. Butterbeer is a slightly intoxicating libation which J.K Rowling deliciously describes in the third book of the series. I love anything having to do with caramel or butterscotch, so this liquid goodness seemed to be the stuff of my dreams. I have absolutely no clue why it took me this long to try to "brew" it at home.

Wintry weather descended upon Alabama this weekend, and I thought it would be the perfect time to try my hand at this concoction. My neighbor, husband and I went to the beach house, and on the way I picked up a bottle of butterscotch schnapps in preparation for my experiment. I thoroughly researched recipes on the internet; I was comforted to find others as obsessed as I am about butterbeer. I found hot and cold versions. I found recipes with melted butter, and others with spices like nutmeg and cinnamon. (I even found a recipe for pumpkin juice, which I will try closer to Halloween). One ingredient almost every recipe had in common was cream soda, probably for the carbonation requirement. I used the diet version, in an attempt to decrease the excessive sugar in the recipe. After throwing out the first batch due to a cream-curdling incident, we managed to concoct what I believe is authentic butterbeer. Only Madam Rosmerta can say for sure, though.

As for the taste, it's like liquid gold sliding down your throat and puddling in a buttery pool at your feet.
Butterbeer
Serves 4

4 cups cream soda
1 tablespoon butter
2 tablespoons brown sugar
4 shots butterscotch schnapps

Place cream soda in a medium saucepan and heat to a light boil. Meanwhile, microwave butter and brown sugar in a bowl until melted, stirring frequently. Pour butter and sugar mixture in the saucepan and stir until it is dissolved. Pour into 4 cups and top with a shot of schnapps. Stir and serve.

Diet Butterbeer
Serves 4

4 cups diet cream soda
4 shots butterscotch schnapps

Place cream soda in a medium saucepan and heat to a light boil. Pour into 4 cups and top with a shot of schnapps. Stir and serve.

Roast, Pot Style

2009-10-15T16:44:00.003-05:00

Pot roast has always been high on my list of top comfort foods, but before last night I had never actually prepared it myself. I didn't even know what cut of meat to use; that's how carnivorously uninformed I am. I grew up in a chicken family, and married a pork man. Luckily, the people at the meat farm did the work for me and plastered a large sticker proclaiming "POT ROAST" across the 2.5 pound hunk of boneless chuck. I love it when that happens.

I researched countless methods and recipes, from slow cookers to oven roasting to braising on the stove. When in doubt, braise. It is the best cooking method for tough cuts of meat. Plus, you can add all sorts of delicious things to the braising liquid, from red wine to fresh herbs to garlic and beyond. I prefer a combination of wine and broth, with lots of fresh thyme and garlic.
Before braising, it's best to lightly sear the meat to seal in juices and provide a little golden brown color. Parsnips, along with the carrots, provide a lightly sweet flavor to counteract the meatiness of the roast. For the mashed potatoes, use your favorite recipe. I mashed six or seven boiled fingerling potatoes with a fork, moistened them with a little butter and sour cream, and seasoned them with salt and pepper.

Pot Roast

Serves 8-10
2 tablespoons oil, divided
2-3 pound boneless chuck roast
1 onion, chopped
4 cloves garlic, chopped
1 cup red wine
3 cups beef broth
4 sprigs of thyme, or assorted herbs such as rosemary or sage
1 14.5 oz can diced tomatoes with juice
2 tablespoons Dijon mustard
salt and pepper to taste
4 carrots, peeled and cut into inch-long pieces
2 parsnips, peeled and cut into inch-long pieces
Chopped parsley for garnish
Mashed potatoes to accompany

Heat 1 tablespoon of oil in a large Dutch oven. Add the beef and brown on all sides and set aside. Heat the remaining oil in the same pan. Add the onions and saute until tender, about 5-7 minutes.Add the garlic and saute until fragrant, about a minute. Add the red wine and deglaze the pan (scraping all the browned bits and reducing slightly). Add the beef broth, thyme, tomatoes, Dijon mustard, salt and pepper and bring to a boil. Add the roast, cover and cook in a preheated 325F oven until fork tender, about 3 hours. Add the carrots and parsnips during the last 20 minutes of cooking. Shred or slice meat and serve on top of mashed potatoes with the carrots and parsnips alongside.

Squash Times Two

2009-09-22T22:08:00.001-05:00

At the beach house, we recently entertained guests from Arkansas. We had a lovely time swimming, eating, and catching up. They brought with them fresh produce from their garden, specifically a watermelon, two acorn squash, and a butternut squash. The butternut squash lasted past their visit, and I found myself staring at it at dinnertime Monday night. The husband was out; I was on my own. Even though it's not quite fall yet in Alabama, I desperately wanted to conjure fall flavors. I decided to turn on the oven, despite the humidity, and roast it. I diced, seasoned, roasted, and then transferred the buttery cubes to a plate. I ate five pieces and realized there was no way I'd finish the whole plate. It was back to the drawing board. I love butternut squash soup, and again, it's a fall staple. I had fat-free half and half and apple cider in the fridge. I used my handy-dandy immersion blender to puree the roasted squash. I had to add a little water to make it the right consistency. I transferred the puree to a small saucepan and added a few tablespoons of cider for subtle sweetness. I wanted to add a bit of cinnamon, but didn't realize my cinnamon spice jar held a cinnamon-sugar mixture. Needless to say, the resulting soup was a bit more dessert-like than I would have preferred for dinner, but it was truly delicious. Maybe if I keep making fall-inspired dishes, the weather will get the hint.

Roasted Butternut Squash
Serves 4

1 medium butternut squashed, peeled, halved and seeds and pulp discarded
1 tablespoon olive oil
1 teaspoon dried sage
1 teaspoon sea salt
1 teaspoon freshly ground pepper

Preheat oven to 400 degrees F. Cut butternut squash into bite-size cubes. Toss all ingredients in a bowl until squash is coated with oil and seasonings. Spread in one layer on a baking sheet, roast for 40 minutes until squash is lightly caramelized and easily pierced with a fork.

Butternut Squash Soup with Apple Cider
Serves 4 as an appetizer

2 cups roasted butternut squash
1/4 cup water
2 tablespoons apple cider
1/2 cup fat-free half and half (or regular)
1/2 teaspoon cayenne pepper
1/2 teaspoon cinnamon
salt and pepper to taste

roasted squash or pumpkin seeds for garnish (optional)

Using a blender or immersion blender, puree water with butternut squash until thoroughly liquidy. Pour into a small saucepan and heat over medium heat, thinning with apple cider and half and half. Season with cinnamon and cayenne. Stir over medium-low heat until heated through. Salt and pepper to taste. Garnish with roasted squash or pumpkin seeds if desired.

My Side of the Pulled Pork Controversy

2009-09-13T14:56:00.006-05:00

Pulled pork in the South is more than a picnic staple; it is an institution. Southerners guard their barbeque recipes so close, you'd think they were printed on hundred dollar bills. I'm no different. It's a serious thing to bequeath a treasure to the world. My mother spent most of her youth in North Carolina and Virginia. I grew up eating only North Carolina style pulled pork; consequently, it's my BBQ of choice. I'm not here to bash the other types. They have their merit. Face it, they all taste good. You can't go wrong with slow cooked meat, sweet and spicy sauce, and soft bread, (bonus points if there's slaw on top). There are at least five different kinds of BBQ in the South: mustard, light tomato, vinegar, heavy tomato, and dry. For me, it's the tang of cider vinegar that really revs my BBQ engine. Let's make something clear right now. I don't have a smoker. I make do with the best I can, which is a roasting pan and an oven. I make my own sauce, rub my own butt, (how's that for a little BBQ humor) and it's good. I'm not saying I make the best pulled pork in the South, but it certainly makes a crowd happy.

In a nutshell, I take a Boston butt, (the upper part of a pork shoulder, blade-in) and if it's the first football weekend, take a picture of it next to a bottle of bourbon for emphasis.

I rub it with dry spices, wrap it in plastic wrap, and let it sit in the fridge overnight. Then I stick it in a relatively low oven for six or so hours. Then I make my sauce.

After the sauce is made, it simply waits for its outfit to be done.

This is the pork after 2 hours.

After 4 hours

After 6 hours

After it's falling apart, I shred it, toss it lightly with the cider vinegar sauce, pile it high on a bun, top it with slaw, and then smile because I'm a happy girl.

Oven Pulled Pork
Makes 12 sandwiches

For meat:
1 Boston butt pork roast, bone-in (6-8 pounds)
3 tablespoons paprika
2 tablespoons brown sugar
2 tablespoons dry mustard
3 tablespoons sea salt
1 tablespoon cracked pepper
For sauce:
1 1/2 cups cider vinegar
1/2 cup yellow mustard
1/4 cup ketchup
1/3 cup packed brown sugar
2 garlic cloves, minced
1 teaspoon salt
1 tablespoon cayenne pepper
3 dashes Tabasco
1/2 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper
12 sesame seeded hamburger buns
Coleslaw

Mix the rub spices together in a small bowl. Massage the spice blend all over the pork, cover with plastic wrap, and place in the refrigerator for at least 12 hours.
Preheat the oven to 300 degrees F. Put the pork in a roasting pan and bake for about 6 hours. Meat should register 170 degrees on a thermometer.
While pork is cooking, make the sauce. Combine all sauce ingredients in a small saucepan. Simmer gently, stirring, for 10 minutes until the sugar dissolves. Season with salt and pepper to taste.
When pork is done, rest it on a cutting board for approximately 10 minutes. Then shred meat by taking two forks and pulling the meat apart. For the "brown", or the charred skin and fat, take a very sharp knife and chop the brown finely. Combine the brown with the shredded pork in a large container. Pour 1 cup of sauce over the meat and toss gently. Serve on buns with slaw (on top!) and whatever other sides you desire.

Chili time!

2009-08-27T14:38:00.002-05:00

Because the nights are getting marginally cooler, I jumped the gun and made chili last night. It's still August, I know, August in Alabama; however, autumn is my favorite time of year, and around this time I have a hard time refraining from celebrating the impending arrival of cool weather and attractive foliage.

I busted out my beautiful, Le Creuset oval Dutch oven (in sunny Dijon) and set to work browning the meat. After coming in third place in a chili cookoff three years ago, I perfected my recipe. I'm not exactly the type to be content with third place. So I prepared enough different types of chili to practically host my own cookoff. My husband assures me I make the best chili in the world, although we differ on what exactly that entails. I like chili made with steak, where the meat shreds with a fork and melts in your mouth. My husband likes plain 'ol ground beef chili, with a little ground sausage mixed in for over the top flavor. I give in and make his ideal chili.

I'm sure he'd be content with meat and beans (thankfully he's not of the Texas beanless persuasion) but I have to have at least some vegetables. I chop a green bell pepper, a red bell pepper, and a yellow onion. They go into the pot and brown with the meat. I love it when sweet red peppers get sweeter the longer they cook, and the color is just too pretty. After the meat is fully cooked, I toss in a few cans of beans and diced tomatoes, some spices, and voila, it's chili time!

#2 Chili
Makes 10 servings

1 lb lean ground beef
1 roll hot pork sausage (I use Jimmy Dean's Reduced Fat)
1 yellow onion, chopped
1 red bell pepper, seeded and diced
1 green bell pepper, seeded and diced
2 cloves garlic, minced
1 can dark red kidney beans
1 can light red kidney beans
1 can black beans
2 cans diced tomatoes in juice
2 tablespoon chili powder
1 tablespoon Tony Chachere's Seasoning
1 tablespoon ground cumin
2-3 dashes hot sauce (I like Crystal Extra Hot)
salt and pepper to taste

In a large pot or Dutch oven, brown pork and beef over medium high heat. When meat is no longer pink, add chili powder, cumin, and seasoning. Stir and then add onion, garlic, red pepper and green pepper. Stir until peppers and onions are soft. Add undrained beans and tomatoes. Season with hot sauce and salt and pepper and let simmer for 1 1/2 to 2 hours until flavors are thoroughly combined. Serve with cornbread, shredded cheddar cheese, and chopped red onions, if desired.

A Bloody Experiment

2009-08-23T15:49:00.006-05:00

I was at Fresh Market yesterday buying produce for my gazpacho, and in the refrigerated section I saw a pretty bottle of juice. I've heard of blood oranges, and even purchased them a few times, but for eating out of hand I found them to be too juicy. It occurred to me then, as I was standing in front of the chilly case, that blood orange juice would be fantastic in a margarita. Let them do the work of extracting every drop of tangy sherbet-colored nectar!

Before I start with the recipe, let me make something clear. I don't do frozen margaritas. Unless I'm sweltering in Mexico or on a sultry Caribbean island, I prefer my slurpees to be non-alcoholic. There's the brain freeze, the sensitive teeth issue...I realize in July I did a pina colada recipe, but the fresh pineapple kept it liquidy enough and the Superblender pulverized the ice into oblivion, just the way I like it.

Anyway, I called my neighbor to gauge her interest in this experiment, and she was all in. I was pleased to see that this particular brand of blood orange juice was from Mt. Etna, in Sicily, the site of a live volcano which I visited my senior year in high school on a Camerata trip. I have fond memories of the burping mountain that spewed ash all over my coat, so I knew this juice was going to be good. I compiled my ingredients: silver tequila, the juice, a lime, and triple sec. The recipe is below, and the results were fantastic. It was tangy and sweet and thankfully lacked the overacidity of a traditional lime margarita. I couldn't have wished for a more perfect late summer cocktail.

Blood Orange Margaritas

Makes 1 cocktail

1 1/2 ounces of silver tequila

4 ounces blood orange juice

1 tablespoon lime juice

lime wedge for garnish

ice

Fill a margarita (or any) glass with ice. Pour tequila over ice, top with juices. Stir and garnish with a lime wedge.

Gazpacho, anyone?

2009-08-22T16:22:00.004-05:00

The South is hot in the summer. Yes, it is a generally known fact, but it needs reiterating. The funny (no, hilarious) thing is that we're having a cold front at the moment, which means it's in the high 80's in the day, and "cools" down to the high 70's at night. I generally love hot weather, I wouldn't be here if I didn't, but the times I don't love it are when my husband locks the A/C in at 82. Yes, that's 82 degrees inside my house. Those times I'm talking about are the months of June, July and August.

So a girl has to take matters into her own hands. Instead of fighting over the thermostat, I've developed a few lovely recipes to cool me down from the inside out. Gazpacho is my current obsession. It's cool, fresh, and tastes like a summer garden. I love to garnish it with cooked crabmeat or shrimp, or just enjoy it on its own. I also make it because it never gets old to hear my husband ask if we're having "gestapo" for dinner.

Some people have an aversion to cold soup, simply because it is difficult to wrap your mind around a chilled version of something that is “supposed” to be hot. If you are a fan of regular tomato soup, or V8, you will find gazpacho to be simply a bowl of chilled tomato juice topped with all sorts of delectable goodies. The shrimp and onions are optional, simply because everyone has different tastes. Onions may be too pungent for some, and if you are entertaining vegetarians, the shrimp is easily omitted. The most important thing is to use high quality ingredients. The tomatoes must be ripe, red, and fragrant. Heirlooms would be fabulous for this recipe, but I'd stick with the red varieties for the color. I also find that avocado is a must, because the smooth texture contrasts wonderfully with the chunky cucumbers and peppers.

Chunky Gazpacho
Serves 4 as a main course

3 medium ripe tomatoes, chopped
2 cloves garlic, peeled and chopped

1/2 of an English cucumber, peeled, seeded and chopped

1/2 of a small red onion, chopped

1/2 of a red bell pepper, cored, seeded and chopped

2 cups V8

2 tablespoons red wine vinegar

1 tablespoon extra-virgin olive oil

Topping:
¼ cup chopped cucumber, peeled and seeded
¼ cup chopped red bell pepper
¼ cup chopped green bell pepper
¼ cup chopped avocado (about 1 half)

1/2 of a small jalapeno pepper, seeded and minced
¼ cup chopped red onion (optional)
4 large cooked shrimp with tails (optional)

Place all ingredients in a large bowl and toss. In a blender or food processor, mix a few cups at a time until just slightly chunky.*Add salt and pepper to taste. Chill in refrigerator for at least 2 hours. Ladle into four bowls. Mix all topping ingredients except for shrimp in a small bowl. Place a small mound of topping mixture on each bowl of gazpacho. Arrange one shrimp on top of each bowl. Serve with crusty bread with warm goat cheese spread (below).

*this was a recipe where I was ecstatic to use my KitchenAid immersion blender. It pureed the vegetables just enough without liquifying them, and took about half a second.

Warm Goat Cheese Spread
Serves 4 as an appetizer or a side

The crowning glory on this meal is actually the side dish, a warm goat cheese spread on a crusty baguette. The pairing of the cool, crisp vegetables and gooey, salty goat cheese is a match made in heaven. Even people who claim they dislike goat cheese can’t pass it up.

1 4 -ounce log of fresh goat cheese

2 tablespoons good quality extra-virgin olive oil

Freshly ground black pepper

1 French baguette, sliced

Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Mix goat cheese and olive oil in a bowl and spread in a ramekin or a ceramic crock. Grind pepper over cheese mixture and bake in the oven until heated and creamy, about 8 minutes. Serve with bread.

Korean Tonight

2009-08-22T15:15:00.013-05:00

I love visiting Mobile's international food markets. There's something to be said for being surrounded by hundreds of food items I have no idea how to prepare. I was faced with approximately eleven types of noodles; in characteristic style I chose the cheapest variety: $1.49 for 14.11 ounces of dried noodles. Upon closer inspection they were Korean sweet potato starch noodles, which I call glass noodles because of their sci-fi-like transparency. I also picked up a five pound bag of Jasmine rice, for $5. I can definitely jive with a dollar a pound. It reminds me of my monthly trips to the Garment District for smelly used clothing (also sold for a dollar a pound). It sounds gross but it was the 90's, so it was okay.

There was a recipe on the back of the bag of noodles. It was mostly not in English, but I could compile a list of ingredients that I would need to make jap chae, a Korean noodle specialty. It called for unspecified meat, mushrooms, spinach, onion, carrots, eggs, soy sauce, sesame oil, sugar, seasame seeds, and black pepper. I decided to add red bell pepper, because it is my favorite vegetable to stirfry. It gets sweet and tendercrisp all at the same time.

Jap Chae

Makes 6 main course servings, or dinner for 2 plus lots of spicy midnight leftovers

7 ounces dried Korean sweet potato noodles
2 boneless thin cut pork chops, sliced into strips
3 tablespoons sesame chile oil, divided
1 tablespoon vegetable oil
3/4 cup thinly sliced onions
2 carrots, cut into matchsticks
2 cloves garlic, finely minced
1 package fresh shitake mushrooms, caps sliced and stems discarded
1 package of fresh spinach
4 tablespoons soy sauce, divided
2 teaspoons sugar
1 tablespoon sesame seeds

Fill a large pot with water and boil. When water is boiling, add the noodles and cook for 5 minutes. Immediately drain and rinse with cold water. Drain again and toss with 1 tsp of the sesame oil. Use kitchen shears to cut noodles into shorter pieces, about 8 inches in length. Set aside.

In a separate pot heat water to a boil, add spinach. Boil spinach until cooked, about 2 minutes. Drain thoroughly. Add 2 tablespoons chile oil to spinach in a bowl and set aside.

Heat vegetable oil in a large skillet or wok. When the cooking oil is hot but not smoking, fry onions and carrots, until just softened, about 1 minute. Add the garlic. Add the pork and fry until pork is totally cooked through. Add the mushrooms, fry 30 seconds. Then add the spinach, soy sauce, sugar and the noodles. Fry 2-3 minutes until the noodles are reheated. Turn off heat, toss with the remaining sesame oil. Sprinkle sesame seeds on top of each serving.

Close-up of the noodles (sorry for the poor quality of the photo)

Impromptu Parties

2009-08-03T19:04:00.000-05:00

My neighbor Danielle and I count throwing parties to be among our favorite things. This week, because a friend's pool party was rained out, we decided at the last minute to throw a "celebration party," at which everyone is forced to come up with something worth celebrating. The venue was Danielle and Justin's beautiful Midtown house. From bosses being out of town to healthy babies, everyone came up with an occasion. The guest list was small; we simply wanted to have an excuse to try out some new recipes, which we did with success. The menu was simple, colorful, and might I add, delicious:

A Celebratory Menu

French 86s (A variation on a French 75)
Tomato Tarts
Gruyere Cheese Puffs with Chicken, Artichoke and Spinach Salad
Olive Tapenade with White Truffle Oil
"Redneck Rolls" (Beef Tenderloin, Cream Cheese, Roasted Red Pepper, Caramelized Onion Sushi Rolls)
Champagne-Marinated Grapes
Crudites with Carrot-Ginger Dip
Lemon Glazed Pecans
Mini Cheesecakes with Blueberry-Lemon Compote

Danielle, an outstanding cook, made the cheese puffs and chicken salad, sushi rolls, crudites and dip, and cheesecakes. I contributed the mixed drink, tarts, crostini, grapes, and pecans. All were eaten with relish.

French 86s
Makes 1 pitcher, or approximately 15 drinks

We originally wanted to serve a pitcher of French 75s, which are a potent concotion of gin, Champagne, lemon juice and superfine sugar. I made a pitcher of it, and we tasted, and decided it was too strong. In went 2 cans of ginger ale. I already added the lemon slices, although if I had anticipated the addition of the soda, I would switch the citrus to lime. Because of the high alcohol content, my guests called this "Danger Juice."

1 and 1/2 bottles of dry Champagne
2 cans ginger ale
1/3 cup superfine sugar
1 cup of gin
juice of 2 limes
1/2 lime, sliced into thin rounds

Pour sugar and lime juice in pitcher, stir to dissolve sugar. Pour gin in and Champagne, stir to combine. Place a few lime rounds in the pitcher for color. Serve in Champagne flutes.

Tomato Tarts
Makes 24 tarts*

This recipe is adapted from Paula Deen of the Food Network. She used Cheddar cheese and dried thyme; I used shredded Monterey Jack and fresh basil. This was a first for me, but a raging success. Let them cool a bit before eating, because they are white hot when fresh out of the oven.

1 sheet puff pastry
5 Roma tomatoes, sliced 1/4 inch thick
1/3 cup shredded Monterey Jack cheese
1/3 cup shredded Parmesan cheese
1/3 cup basil, finely chopped
Salt and pepper

Preheat oven to 375 degrees F. Grease a baking sheet well with cooking spray. With a 1 and 1/2 to 2 inch biscuit cutter, cut 24 rounds out of the puff pastry, place on baking sheet. Sprinkle a teaspoon of Monterey Jack cheese on each round. Place a tomato slice on each round. Sprinkle a teaspoon of Parmesan on each round, and a bit of basil as well. Season with salt and pepper and bake for 15 minutes until puffed and browned.

*Because these went so fast, I would make 2 batches for my next party.

Olive Tapenade with White Truffle Oil
Makes 2 cups of tapenade, about 32 toasts

Because of the astronomical price of white truffle oil, I halved the amount in this recipe. My $22 1.4 ounce bottle is almost gone, and I'm not about to run out and buy another one. Yes, this makes me culinarily cheap. This recipe is adapted from my favorite party cookbook, "Cocktail Parties, Straight Up!" by Lauren Purcell and Anne Purcell-Grissinger. It is definitely my favorite olive tapenade: chunky, richly flavored, and quite salty.

12 ounces black olives, chopped finely
6 ounces pimiento stuffed green olives, chopped finely
2 cloves of garlic, minced
1/3 cup shredded Parmesan cheese
1/3 cup shredded Monterey Jack cheese
1/3 cup parsley, chopped
salt and pepper to taste

Combine all ingredients in a decorative bowl. Serve with toasted baguette rounds or water crackers.

Lemon-Blueberry Compote
Makes 2 1/2 cups

Danielle made the tiny cheesecakes, I made the topping. The recipe came out a little more liquidy than I would have liked, so here I have omitted the few tablespoons of water I added to the blueberries. Use the rest on pancakes, topped with whipped cream!

1 pint blueberries
1/4 cup white sugar
juice of 1 lemon
zest of 1 lemon

Combine all ingredients in a small saucepan over medium heat. Stir, uncovered, until mixture turns a deep purple and blueberries appear glossy and plump. Simmer until thickened slightly. Pour into a jar and refrigerate until needed.

Champagne-Marinated Grapes
Makes 3 cups

To allow the grapes to absorb more of the flavor from the Champagne, I made small slits with a sharp knife in the side of each grape. I wouldn't recommend this, since it made the grapes too soft and wilted in the end. For this recipe, I increased the marinating time and added more lemon juice to prevent browning.

2 pounds green grapes
1/2 bottle dry Champagne
1/2 cup + 2 tablespoons superfine sugar
juice from 2 lemons
zest from 2 lemons

Combine Champagne, 1/2 cup sugar, and lemon juice in a large bowl, stir to dissolve sugar. Cut grapes in small bunches. Add grapes. Store in refrigerator for 24 hours or at least overnight. Just before serving, toss grapes with lemon zest and 2 tablespoons superfine sugar.

Just to tickle your tastebuds, I've included the pictures of Danielle's creations.

Crudites with Carrot-Ginger Dip

"Redneck Rolls"

Gruyere Cheese Puffs with Chicken, Artichoke and Spinach Salad

All photos by Danielle Hovey

Cooking for One

2009-07-29T19:15:00.003-05:00

ence

I have a secret: I love to cook for myself. There is something so independent, so self-satisfyingly indulgent about cooking for one. My husband is an absolute treasure as far as eating what I put before him (most of the time), but sometimes I like to formulate a meal, from start to finish, based on exactly what I am craving at the moment, and taking no one else's opinions into account.

When my parents left me and my sister with babysitters, I used to beg for TV dinners. I just loved the junkiness of the fare, dinosaur chicken nuggets and all. I seem to have actually grown up, since tonight I opted for something a little more adult than Kid's Cuisine. I am in love with Indian food, but I rarely prepare it. I decided to make dal, basmati rice, mango-coconut martinis, and fresh mango for dessert.

Coconut-Mango Martinis
Makes 2 drinks

1 fresh coconut
1 fresh mango
2 shots vodka
ice
small strips of mango or coconut for garnish

Crack coconut over a bowl with a hammer, being careful not to lose any "water" (the liquid inside the coconut). Slice mango open, minding the pit in the center.* Squeeze the juice from the pit of the mango into the bowl with the coconut juice, making sure to add bits of mango pulp. Pour mango-coconut mixture in a shaker with ice and vodka. Shake thoroughly and strain into a martini glass. Garnish with mango or coconut strips.

*The best way is with a mango slicer, a cheap and effective tool.

Amanda's Dal
Serves 1 (with leftovers)

1 tablespoon olive oil
1 medium yellow onion, finely chopped
4 cloves garlic, peeled and thinly sliced
1 cup lentils (not split peas)
3 cups water
2 cloves garlic, minced
1 teaspoon tumeric
1 tablespoon cumin
1 teaspoon ground ginger
1 squeeze red chili sauce (such as Sriracha)
1/2 cup basmati rice
1 cup water

pita bread wedges

chopped jalapeno

chopped tomato

Heat olive oil in a medium saucepan over medium heat. Cook onions and thinly sliced garlic in oil until browned, approximately ten minutes, stirring often. Pour mixture into a bowl and to the saucepan add lentils, 3 cups of water, minced garlic, tumeric, cumin, ginger and chili sauce. Bring to a boil and cook over medium low heat for approximately 35 minutes, or until lentils are soft.

Meanwhile, bring rice and 1 cup of water to a boil in a small saucepan, and turn heat to low and simmer for 18 minutes or until water is fully absorbed.
To serve, put a 1/4 cup of rice in a shallow bowl. Top with 3/4 cup dal, and garnish with chopped jalapenos and tomatoes. Serve with pita wedges.

For dessert, I just cubed the remaining mango and garnished it with a few slivers of coconut that I stripped off with a vegetable peeler.

Summer Shrimp

2009-07-23T09:18:00.000-05:00

Shrimp and grits is distinctly Southern. It is a dish of lowcountry origins, associated with the Carolinas, but has spread far and wide across the Southeast. In the past couple of months, I have experimented with several S&G recipes, all completely different. I experimented with pancetta and proscuitto, two common Italian ingredients, and arrived at bacon, specifically, Conecuh bacon.* Proscuitto didn't deliver the smoky flavor I wanted, and pancetta simply wasn't as good as bacon. I tried yellow grits but preferred the white. White grits keep the integrity of the dish, rather than transform it into shrimp & polenta.

*Conecuh bacon (named after the Alabama County in which it's produced) is by far the best bacon I've ever tasted. It is perfectly marbled with fat, and crisps up beautifully.

Best Shrimp and Grits
Serves 6

Grits
4 cups chicken stock
3/4 cup heavy cream
3/4 stick butter
1 garlic clove, minced
1 cup grits
1/2 cup sharp cheddar cheese
3 ounces goat cheese, crumbled (optional)

Shrimp
1/2 stick butter
1 onion, finely chopped
1 large garlic clove, minced
2 pounds uncooked large shrimp, peeled, deveined
1/2 cup dry white wine
1 14-ounce can diced tomatoes in juice
6 slices of uncooked bacon, chopped

1 yellow pepper, chopped
1/4 cup chopped fresh basil

1/2 cup green onions, chopped (green and white parts)

Bring chicken stock, whipping cream, butter and garlic to boil in heavy large saucepan. Gradually whisk in grits. Return to boil, whisking constantly. Reduce heat to low. Simmer uncovered until grits thicken, whisking often, about 15 minutes.

Meanwhile, melt 1/4 cup butter in heavy large skillet over medium-high heat. Add onions and garlic and sauté until tender, about 4 minutes. Add yellow pepper and bacon and saute until bacon is fully cooked and browned. Add drained diced tomatoes. Add shrimp and white wine to skillet and saute until shrimp are just cooked, pink and curled. Season to taste with salt and pepper.

To simmering grits, add cheddar and optional goat cheese. Stir until cheese is melted. Spoon grits into shallow bowls. Top each serving with shrimp mixture, dividing equally. Garnish with basil and green onions and serve immediately.

Poll Time

2009-07-20T14:18:00.001-05:00

Please take a second to vote on the poll to the right!

Sunday Brunch

2009-07-19T22:11:00.000-05:00

Sunday brunch cocktails are a must. Usually I reach for a classic Bloody Mary (garnished with pickled okra and green beans) but Beach Brunch requires a little more panache. In the midst of my fruit-blending craze, I blitzed up a peach puree (made with fresh Chilton Co. peaches, of course) moistened with a bit of Triple Sec. Poured into ten flutes and topped with sparkling wine, the result was a beachy peachy beverage the precise color of a Gulf Coast sunrise. That was last week.

Alabama Peach Bellinis

Makes 10 drinks

1 bottle champagne or sparkling white wine

6 fresh peaches

3 tablespoons Triple Sec

Cut peaches in half and remove pits. Place peach halves in blender and blend on high for at least one minute, or until peaches are fully pulverized. Strain into a container, pushing on pulp with a wooden spoon to extract the juice. Divide into ten champagne glasses, then top with sparkling wine.

Today, my aunt prepared a verdant beverage called "Missionary's Downfall." This one was as pretty as it was potent, and lives up to its name. The family first tasted these at my cousin's bridal shower, and no one remembers the presents.

Missionary's Downfall

Makes 6 generous servings

1 small can of limeade

lots of young Kentucky mint leaves, 3 or 4 handfuls

1 limeade can of vodka

1 blender full of ice

Blend ingredients on high til green throughout and ice is crushed. Pour and serve! Also fabulous for Derby parties.

A Typical Sunday

2009-07-19T16:54:00.000-05:00

Piña coladas are a quintessential summer libation. They're even better when served inside a hollow pineapple, topped with a ribbon of dark rum. Well, maybe I'm biased towards my own concoctions, but I don't think it could have gotten any better. Picture this: me in the beach supermarket, hankering for some coconut and pineappple magic. For a tub of cored pineapple: $4.99. A whole fruit? Same price. Equal amounts of money for the fruit and a handy serving vessel? It's a no brainer. A can of cream of coconut came next. Yes, it has about a bazillion calories per tablespoon, but if you're going to drink your calories, make 'em count. I went by the juice aisle and almost grabbed the metal can of pineapple juice, then figured, why not try to make my own? (I told y'all, it's the summer of culinary experimentation). The hardest part was the hollowing out of the pineapple. I first cut the core out with a knife without severing any fingers, then scooped out the flesh with a large spoon. Blended on the highest setting, the pineapple transformed into frothy juice. Into the blender went the can of cream of coconut, a healthy dose of white coconut rum, and a few handfuls of ice cubes. The grand finale? A floater of dark rum that just barely sank into the pillow of froth on top. The hollowed out pineapple? Much more fun than any old hurricane glass.

Fresh Piña Coladas

Makes 2-3 pineapples or 6 tall glasses

1 ripe pineapple, hollowed out and fruit set aside
1 can cream of coconut

3/4 cup rum (light, dark, or coconut)
ice

Garnish (swizzle sticks with orange slices and cherries, paper umbrellas, pineapple wedges, etc)

Blend pineapple on highest setting for at least one full minute. Mixture should be pale yellow and frothy. Pour cream of coconut into blender. Add three handfuls of ice and rum. Blend until ice is broken up. Pour into hollowed out pineapple. Add desired garnish. If desired, pour a shot of dark rum on top of drink just before serving.

Gluten Troubles in Paradise

2009-07-19T10:15:00.000-05:00

My sister has celiac disease, which means she cannot consume any wheat, rye, or barley. Serious bummer. So during her visit, when I had a craving for fried okra, I had a unique conundrum on my hands. How to go about making gluten free fried okra? Gluten free fried anything, for that matter? Basically, when frying, one either breads or batters. Neither one would work. I prepared a gluten free pie crust the night before that I was less than pleased about, so I wasn't exactly brimming with confidence. The gluten free flour I used was primarily composed of rice flour, with tapioca and corn starch. I didn't have much choice, and I supposed it was close to tempura, which I love, so I dredged and dunked and held my breath. The result? Divine.

Triumphant Gluten Free Fried Okra

1 pound okra, cut into bite sized pieces

1/2 cup buttermilk

1/2 cup rice flour (or gluten free flour blend)

2 cups vegetable oil

Heat vegetable oil to 350 degrees F. I used an electric skillet outside, since it's super splattery. When oil is hot, in a colander or strainer, pour buttermilk over okra and shake to coat. Then pour flour over and shake to coat. Fry half of okra for 5 minutes or so, til flour is crisped up and slightly brown. Transfer to paper towels and salt immediately while still hot. Repeat with other half of okra. Serve right away.

I am a devoted okra fan now. I cannot get enough of it. Sauteed, fried, in casseroles or jambalaya, I care not. My mom picked up some freshly harvested okra that was so fresh it looked better than any grocery store okra I'd seen, even after a week in the fridge.

Shrimpish

2009-07-18T22:16:00.000-05:00

I love shrimp. There isn't a single summer ingredient that conjures more visions of perfect, beachy days than tender, ocean-salted shrimp. I like them pretty minimally prepared. Boiled in Old Bay and doused with a squeeze of lemon is good enough for me. When I ventured to our Chevron shrimp hut (that's not actually the name of the establishment, it's just adjacent to a gas station), I was overjoyed to discover they carried head-on shrimp, for only $5.99 a pound. I know, I know, shrimp heads aren't much to look at, and a bit unappetizing to eat, googly eyes, antennae and all; however, if you've ever had BBQ shrimp in New Orleans, you know what I'm getting at. Baked in an amazing sauce of staggering amounts of butter, along with lemon, herbs, spices, and other delicious things, these shrimp make you "want to slap yo mamma." Don't ask me why, it's just a saying.
Getting back on track, I bought two pounds of head-on shrimp for what seemed like pennies, and got to work trying to recreate this Big Easy masterpiece. First I sauteed some onion and garlic in a lot of butter. I mean, a lot. I actually found a recipe for BBQ Shrimp and felt compelled to cut the butter in half to avoid having a heart attack at 26. Read on.

Pretty Darn Good BBQ Shrimp

1 stick butter
1/2 cup olive oil
2 lbs raw unpeeled shrimp, heads on
1/4 cup chopped basil
1 tablespoon cayenne pepper
4 cloves garlic, minced
juice of 1 lemon
zest of 1 lemon
2 tablespoons Worcestershire sauce
1 tablespoon crushed red pepper
black pepper
salt
lots of crusty French bread

Preheat oven to 375 degrees. Grease large baking dish. Melt butter and olive oil in large skillet. Add all ingredients except for shrimp and bread. Bring sauce to light boil. Put shrimp in baking dish and pour sauce over. Bake in the oven for 15 minutes, stirring frequently, until shrimp are pink and curled. DO NOT OVERCOOK. Watch carefully, pick a shrimp and cut open to make sure it is not translucent. Serve in individual bowls with lots of bread to soak up the flavorful sauce.

Leftovers Again?

2009-07-18T20:01:00.000-05:00

I love pureeing watermelon. It is one of the only fruits that truly yields its juices willingly. When blended, other fruits like peaches and cherries turn into a puree rather than a juice, flecked with unattractive bits of skin and peel. Blended on high for about ten seconds, watermelon yielded a vividly pink liquid. Upon first taste, it was clean and fresh, not overly sweet. I wanted to create a “tonic”, an old-fashioned remedy meant to strengthen and revive the body.
Watermelon and ginger is a natural pair, since the spiciness of the ginger amps up the mild sweetness of the melon. Lime juice adds zing. No sugar is needed to sweeten. It isn’t meant to be a replacement for soda but rather a fresh beverage on a hot summer day. For a bit of carbonation, I added a splash of tonic water (diet or regular) to each glass right before serving. Club soda would work just as well. To make a refreshing adult beverage, I added some vodka to the watermelon tonic, which was a real hit with my sister’s friends.

Watermelon-Ginger Tonic

Makes 4 drinks

5 cups watermelon chunks
3/4 cup cold water
1/3 cup fresh lime juice
1 large piece of ginger, peeled
Ice cubes
Lime wedges
Club soda

Place watermelon and 3/4 cup cold water in blender. Puree until smooth. Add lime juice. Grate ginger over watermelon juice, making sure the grated ginger and juice falls into the blender. Strain into a pitcher, using a wooden spoon to push the pulp and get out all the juice. Refrigerate until well chilled, at least 3 hours. Serve in a glass with ice cubes and a lime wedge, with a splash of tonic.

After I made the tonic, I wanted to go further with the refreshment idea and set to work making a granita, a sort of slushy dessert. Granitas are wonderful on a hot day, and much healthier than a bowl of ice cream.

Basil-Watermelon Granita
Serves 4

1 cup sugar

1 cup water

10 basil leaves, torn and bruised with the back of a spoon

3 cups strained and pureed watermelon

1/3 cup lime juice

Boil water and sugar in a saucepan until dissolved. Then add torn basil leaves and let it steep for 10 minutes. Using a sieve, strain the mixture into a container, pressing on the basil leaves with the back of a spoon, and put it in the fridge to cool. When cool, mix it with the strained pureed watermelon and lime juice, and put it in the freezer, scraping the mixture with a fork every 30 minutes for 3 hours or until evenly crystallized. Find some pretty glasses and there you have it, homemade slush!

One Blog's Beginnings

2009-07-18T17:13:00.000-05:00

A summer at the beach can do funny things to people. Namely, make them experiment in culinary ways of which they never dared to dream. First, I set out to simply refresh myself with various "coolers," some alcoholic and some of the "mocktail" persuasion. As you can see in the image, I began with normal, everyday ingredients such as ginger ale, and limes. With the help of my trusty muddler, I squashed the limes with some mint leaves and a dash of simple syrup. For drinks, I always advise investing the time to make a simple syrup that lasts for weeks in the refrigerator. Simple syrup dissolves instantly and sweetens evenly. Topping the drink off with gin and ginger ale makes a bubbly refreshment perfect for a day (or month) at the beach.

Two-Gin Cocktail

Substituting ginger flavored syrup would make this a "three-gin" cocktail.

1 half of a lime, cut into three wedges

1 oz. simple syrup

4-6 mint leaves

1 can ginger ale (I go Diet to reduce sugar)

1 shot gin

In the bottom of a tall glass, muddle 4 mint leaves, syrup and lime together either with the back of a spoon or a proper muddler. Add ice. Pour gin over ice, top with ginger ale, and garnish with mint leaves, if desired.