The annual Christmas Eve party at our house started because the choir and clergy couldn’t go to other parties–between the early children’s pageant service and the not-quite midnight concert and subsequent worship service.  So for several years (pre-Seminary) Steve and I had a big dinner buffet.  I usually served my favorite main dish, Country Captain, an oddly named chicken dish which probably derives from the trade between Savannah, Georgia and India–the ships left loaded with cotton and came back with spices.  When I watched my friend Sameer eat it for the first time, I was gratified to see the shock of recognition and pleasure on his face.  The curry is toasted in a pan separate from other ingredients, reminiscent of an Indian Tadka.  It is served with chutney, with a variety of classic garnishes (crumbled bacon, sliced green onion, currants, chopped egg white, chopped peanuts) optional.  My recipe is adapted from The Gift of Southern Cooking by Scott Peacock and Edna Lewis (New York:Knopf 2003).  It is easy to make ahead and keep warm in a chafing dish.  Though one of my favorite dishes, I hadn’t made it in ages until my friends Gia and Melville came for dinner.  Having shared it with them, I am now sharing it with you.  It is good with rice, coconut rice, and cheese grits (in ascending order of festivity).

I served it with a dish that is my only happy memory of working with a home accessories company.  I went to High Point, North Carolina, to work (for fourteen hours a day) at the international furniture show.  I was hoping at least to eat well while I was there–but I was disappointed until one of the hospitable locals invited me to another showroom for lunch.  If it didn’t actually save my life, that meal at least restored my will to live.  Barbara, the wonderful cook, yielded to my pleas and shared her recipe for sweet potato casserole.  If you make this yourself you will be very glad that she did.

I generally round out this meal with green beans.  For a large group, I blanch the beans in advance (keeps ‘em bright green) and then at the last minute throw them into boiling water to cook a bit more, drain, and toss with vinaigrette dressing.  For dessert I usually buy a cake (from Miette at the Ferry Plaza in SF!).

Here are the recipes–all tried and true!

Country Captain:

A three and a half pound chicken, cut up.  Ask the meat cutter to cut the half breasts in half again (better serving size).  Brine the chicken overnight (1/4 cup kosher or sea salt not table salt per gallon of water, to cover) in the refrigerator. To cook: rinse and pat dry with paper towels, sprinkle with 1 teaspoon dried thyme, and a few grinds of black pepper.  Heat 1/4 cup vegetable oil in a large saute pan until hot (not smoking) and place chicken pieces skin-side down and cook, turning once, until golden brown.  Remove chicken pieces and set aside.  Pour out cooking oil, and put in fresh oil.  Add 2 1/2 cups chopped onion and cook for 5 minutes.  Add 1 cup chopped celery, (2 cups diced green bell pepper if you like it), and cook 5 more minutes.  Drain a large can of tomatoes, reserving liquid.  Chop tomatoes and add them with the juice to the pan.  Simmer at low heat, partly covered for 10 minutes, stirring often.

In a separate pan, melt 2 Tablespoons butter until hot and foaming.  Stir in spices and cook–a total of 2 Tablespoons plus 2 teaspoons of either: all curry, or 2 Tablespoons curry and 2 teaspoons cinnamon (or you may substitute some Garam Masala spice blend for some of the curry).  Add 1 Tablespoon finely chopped (or mashed with a mortar and pestle!) fresh garlic.  Add the spices and garlic to the tomato/vegetable mixture.  Add 1/3 cup of currants, and 2 bay leaves.

Simmer the tomato/vegetable/spice mixture for 30 minutes, stirring occasionally.  When done, check for seasoning, adding salt and pepper if necessary.  Ladle about one cup of the sauce into the bottom of an ovenproof casserole large enough to hold the chicken in one layer.  Arrange the chicken pieces over the sauce and spoon the remaining sauce on top of the chicken.  Place a sheet of parchment directly on top of the chicken and sauce, top with a layer of aluminum foil and crimp to tightly cover.  Bake in a preheated 325 degree oven for approximately one and a half hours.  Serve hot over rice with chutney, and other condiments mentioned above if desired.

Barbara’s North Carolina Sweet Potato Casserole:

3 cups of sweet potatoes–wash and place on foil-lined baking sheet.  Bake in preheated 350 degree oven for one to one and a half hours. Remove from oven and allow to cool briefly.  Peel and put sweet potato into the bowl of an electric mixer.  (Can substitute canned sweet potatoes if convenience is a priority).

Beat potatoes in mixer with the paddle attachment gradually adding: 1 cup of sugar, 1/2 cup of butter, 2 eggs (beaten), 1 teaspoon of vanilla, 1/3 cup of milk.  Spoon into an ovenproof baking dish.  (I often use a souffle dish, but a wider shallower dish allows a better proportion of filling to topping). (Actually this is the dish you see in the blog banner above…)

Mix 1 cup brown sugar, 1/2 cup flour, 1/3 cup butter, 1 cup chopped pecans.  Distribute the topping over the surface of the sweet potatoes in a smooth layer.

Cook for 30 minutes in a preheated 350 degree oven, uncovered.

All I can say is that these are really two of my best dishes, as many of my friends can attest.  Let me know what you think!

Nowadays, anyone who didn’t already know and revere Julia Child has seen or heard of the movie Julie & Julia.  If you have seen the movie, you have heard a much less famous name mentioned: Judith Jones.  There are a couple of brief scenes showing the now-legendary editor testing recipes and shepherding Julia through the publication process.  But there is more to Judith Jones than her connection to Julia Child.

She was raised in a well-to-do New York household, which according to her memoir was joyless on the subject of food.  It was considered bad form to even mention what you were eating, and any “noises” (like YUM!) would get you banished from the table.  After Bennington (and the end of WWII) she went to Paris and wouldn’t come home for five years.  When she did she took a job as editor with various publishers, finally settling in for a long stint at Knopf.  At first she focused on French translations.  There were other notable discoveries–she found and published Anne Frank: The Diary of a Young Girl.  But then Julia Child came along and Judith’s career became identified with cookbooks.

But she didn’t only work with Julia.  Mrs. Jones developed an insight that the best cookbooks were written by amateur cooks–almost always people who grew up eating a particular cuisine who then left the place where they grew up.  Someone who had “grown up in a household where food was honored, and [who] felt compelled to recover those food memories.”  Something about being removed from home–the culture, the people and the food, made a person–the right person–able to translate that cuisine into a living document: a cookbook.

Who? You might be wondering.  Who did she find and publish?  The list of authors is an honor roll of influential food writers: Claudia Roden (Middle Eastern), Roy Andries De Groot (an early proponent of seasonal cooking), Marcella Hazan (Italian), Madhur Jaffrey (Indian), Irene Kuo (Chinese), Nela Rubenstein (Polish) (I can’t resist adding here that her husband was Arthur Rubenstein and Cary Grant was a huge fan of her cooking), James Beard (American), Marion Cunningham (American–the new Fannie Farmer). And my favorite–full stop–Edna Lewis, the queen of Southern Cooking.

Edna Lewis wrote a beautiful book called The Taste of Country Cooking (now in paperback) about growing up in Freetown, Virginia, a community built by freed slaves.  The place is now only a memory with ruined chimneys, but it comes alive in her stories about the food and celebrations–all arranged seasonally.  Her big cookbook, written with her beloved friend, chef Scott Peacock, is called The Gift of Southern Cooking. It is my favorite, and I am so grateful to Mrs. Jones for her part in the publication of these books.

Judith Jones is amply capable of speaking for herself, and much of the above information was gleaned from her book: The Tenth Muse: My life in food which was published in 2007. By Knopf.  Brillat-Savarin is responsible for the title.  He wrote: “Gasterea is the tenth muse.  She presides over all the pleasures of taste.”  Mrs. Jones even includes a chapter engaging the question: “What is taste?”  And her final chapter includes a number of her recipes.  It may seem incongruous that a seminary student is so interested in the ministry of the table–oh, maybe it isn’t.  Mrs. Jones includes this in her final chapter:

“Several summers before he died, Evan had posted on the refrigerator door–a catchall for food notes in our house–this quotation from Alfred North Whitehead: ‘Cooking is one of those arts which most requires to be done by persons of a religious nature.’ [...] He knew that I have always felt that the preparation of food is one of the most joyous and inwardly satisfying of all activities that we as human beings are peculiarly privileged to indulge in daily.  Other creatures receive food simply as fodder.  But we take the raw materials of the earth and work with them–touch them, manipulate them, taste them, glory in their heady smells and colors, and then, through a bit of alchemy, transform them into delicious creations.  Cooking demands attention, patience, and, above all, respect.  It is a way of worship, a way of giving thanks.”

One of my all-time favorite restaurants is Watershed in Atlanta — owned by Emily Saliers of the Indigo Girls and run by chef Scott Peacock, a James Beard Award winner. This place has the best Southern food I’ve ever had; hands down. And one of the best dishes on the menu is the shrimp grits with toasted pullman plank. The flavorful coarse-ground grits — prepared with butter, cream, sherry, lemon juice and a dash of cayenne — are blended with with chunks of fresh shrimp for a rich treat atop a crunchy piece of toast.

I decided to take a crack at recreating the dish at home, and I have to say it turned out pretty well for not having a blender or quality stone-ground grits to work with. The dish is concocted in two parts: the grits and the shrimp paste. Then you blend the two together.

Scott Peacock & Edna Lewis’ Shrimp Paste

2 sticks of butter

1 pound of shrimp

1/2 teaspoon of salt and pepper

1/4 cup sherry

2 tablespoons of fresh lemon juice

1/4 teaspoon of cayenne pepper

(1) Heat 6 tablespoons of butter in a skillet until it’s hot and foaming. Then add the shrimp, salt and pepper and cook over high heat for 4-7 minues.

(2) Remove shrimp with a slotted spoon to a blender (or chop on a cutting board if not blending).

(3) Add sherry, lemon juice, and cayenne pepper to the skillet and reduce over medium-high heat until syrupy.  Then add the liquid to the shrimp in the blender or food processor.

(4) As you blend the shrimp and juices, add the remaining butter in small pieces.

*Blend one cup of hot grits per 1/4 cup of shrimp paste to make the shrimp grits.  You can prepare the grits any number of ways, using cream, butter, chicken broth and/or other herbs and spices. After combining the paste with the grits, sprinkle with chives before serving.

*The shrimp paste recipe above makes 2 1/2 cups of paste — enough to feed 8-10 people when combined with grits.

This post is part of a series on cornbread; the simple yet widely variable staple of the Southern table.

If you follow this blog you may have been wondering what business I have writing a blog called Syrup and Cornbread without actually blogging about cornbread. I admit it, I’ve been dancing around this for a while and I have a confession to make: I don’t yet have the perfect cornbread recipe. Unlike some of my friends, we didn’t really eat cornbread much in our house growing up; although my  mom hails from Memphis, her family were German immigrants from Cincinnati. In my dad’s family there was always cornbread, but it’s just not something for which you’d pass down a recipe. Since my mom did most of the cooking when I was growing up, I was never really given the tutorial on how to properly cook it. Inspired by my friend and fellow cornbread-lover Katy, who has just returned from a trip to Mississippi, I’ve decided to embark on a series of posts about my search for the perfect cornbread recipe. I hope that this series will take me further into my own families recipes (I’ve simply never thought to ask), as well as other people’s.

Cornbread is a pedestrian bread; it is very rarely the star of the show, but people are passionate about it. In the South cornbread is not sweetened at all. Here in New England all cornbread has sugar in it. This is wrong. Cornbread, if made properly, should be thin, crumbly, have a nice dark crust on the bottom, and be made with bacon grease or butter.

For my first attempt I turned to my favorite Southern cookbook, The Gift of Southern Cooking. You all know how much I love Scott Peacock and Edna Lewis, the authors of this cookbook. I have the utmost respect for them both and came very close to actually swooning over the dinner I had at his restaurant Watershed (oh, and don’t forget when I was spying on his biscuit-making at Slow Food Nation ‘08). Well, I tried their favorite cornbread recipe and was underwhelmed; it turned out too egg-y. You might be able to see in the picture (my fancy camera is on the fritz so you have to make due with the point-and-shoot) that there’s a layer of egg on the top. This was unexpected, and I’m not sure I like it; maybe I did something wrong, although I can’t figure out what.

The only substitution I made in the recipe was bacon grease for butter. I just keep a jar of bacon grease in the door of my refrigerator. It keeps forever and is perfect for getting that nice bottom crust that all cornbread should have. His technique, from what I can tell, is pretty standard. You melt the grease in a cast-iron skillet in a hot oven. Then, once it’s melted, you pour it into the batter, stir, then pour the batter into the skillet. Katy told me this is what her mom does, and it’s pretty close to the method I use.

Don’t get me wrong, this cornbread turned out really good; I realized that I do like buttermilk or sour milk, but this particular recipe just didn’t it the mark. I want a bit more crumb and certainly less egg. The search continues.

Our Favorite Sour Milk Cornbread
From The Gift of Southern Cooking by Scott Peacock and Edna Lewis

1 1/2 c. fine-ground white cornmeal
1 tsp. salt
1 tsp. baking powder
1 3/4 c. soured milk or buttermilk*
2 eggs, lightly beaten
2 tbsp. unsalted butter (I used bacon grease)

Preheat oven to 450 degrees. Mix the cornmeal, salt, and baking powder together in a bowl. Stir the milk into the beaten eggs, and pour over the dry ingredients in batches, stirring vigorously to make a smooth glossy batter.
Cut the butter into pieces and put in a 10-inch cast-iron skillet or baking pan. Put the skillet in the preheated oven, and heat until the butter is melted and foaming. Remove from the oven, and swirl the butter all around the skillet to coat the bottom and sides thoroughly. Pour the remaining melted butter into the cornbread batter, and stir well until the butter is absorbed into the batter. Turn the batter into the heated skillet, and put in the oven to bake for 3040 minutes, until cornbread is golden brown and crusty on top and pulls away from the sides of the skillet.
Remove the skillet from teh oven, and turn the cornbread out onto a plate. Allow to cool for 5 minutes before cutting into wedges. Serve the cornbread while it’s hot.

*I didn’t have buttermilk, so I soured some milk according to their note: “A Quick Sour Milk It only takes about 10 minutes to make this tangy substitute for buttermilk. Stir into 1 3/4 cups sweet milk 2 tsp. lemon juice and 2 tsp. cider vinegar. Let sit until curdled.

My husband Dru and I just got back from a terrific trip to San Francisco. I had to go for a business conference and I decided early on that I would take him and make the trip half business, half pleasure. I grew up in Mississippi, lived in North Carolina for a stint and then moved to Massachusetts. Aside from a four-week roadtrip when I was in college and a trip or two to Washington state, I’d never really explored the West coast too much. The Bay Area is so vastly different than what I’m used to; the landscape reminded me a lot of the Mediterranean, the weather was fantastic (I know that we lucked out on this one), people were laid back, and there were bookstores everywhere. It’s really ridiculous how many books we bought while we were there. I’d been on the lookout for some M.F.K. Fisher for a while now and haven’t been able to find any of her books here in the environs of Boston. But, we went to City Lights and of course they had everything she’d ever written (not really, but close). I got Serve it Forth and How to Cook a Wolf. I also got Fat: An Appreciation of a Misunderstood Ingredient by Jennifer McLagan; a great cookbook which has inspired me to render my own lard. A topic for another post.

Scott Peacock

Slow Food '08 Victory Garden

Coincidentally we were there during Slow Food Nation ‘08. We didn’t get to participate too much due to our flight arrangements, but we did go to the marketplace at the Civic Center Plaza. It was like I’d died and gone to heaven. It was a huge farmer’s market with amazing produce, rice, nuts, cheese, olive oil, and on and on. All of it grown locally and most of it grown organically. I bought some peaches and plums for us to eat right then and there, some almonds, rice, wheat berries, and pistachios. I wanted to buy everything in sight but knew I couldn’t fit it all in my luggage. Right in the middle of the plaza they’d installed a “victory garden” which they will harvest for the San Francisco food bank. It was an amazing garden and I was totally jealous. On the other side of the garden were vendors selling small meals. I was pleasantly surprised to find my favorite chef Scott Peacock cooking ham biscuits with jam. I stood there like a fool and watched him make biscuits. He clearly used lard and cut it right into the flour with his hands. He was making way more than I usually make, of course, but I think I’ll try that next time instead of the pastry cutter; they are biscuits after all and not a delicate flaky pie crust. There was a line, but once I got some of those biscuits I ate them pretty fast. I have to say it was incredible being surrounded by people who were as excited about local food as I am. I get a small taste of that when I go to the farmer’s market around here, but that’s not on such a grand scale.

A happy girl

What else did we eat you might be wondering? Well, I ate the hottest pepper I’d ever eaten in the Mission District. It was hidden in the “hot” salsa on this plate of Carne Asada:

I’ve gotten way too used to ordering the hottest thing on the menu here in New England. The hottest dish is never hot enough for me; if the menu has three chili peppers and warns in big letters “WARNING: This dish is very spicy,” I order it and find it just right. I have a friend whose head sweats when he eats something spicy; it’s one of the funniest things I’ve ever seen and I always take the opportunity to make fun of him. Well, that’s here in New England where people like their dinners boiled and their food bland, thank you very much. Not a Latino neighborhood where people can actually handle a little bit of spiciness in their food. WOOWEE! I tell ya, that pepper was a-spicy. An hour later I could still feel it on my lips. Luckily I’d ordered an horchata, which cut through the spice; water would have just made it worse. The food was really good; this was at La Cumbre, supposedly the oldest taqueria in San Francisco. The Mission District is so interesting; it is definitely a place of extremes, on one block I felt like we were in a rough part of Mexico City and then the next block felt a little more like a hip street in Brooklyn somewhere. It’s definitely a neighborhood on the edge of two extremes; gentrification on one side and poverty on the other.

The last day we were there we went to Berkeley and made the pilgrimage to Chez Panisse. It was an absolute necessity for me to go to this restaurant; I couldn’t be that close and not go. So, a month ago I called to make a reservation; even then they could only fit us in for 5:30, but of course we took it. Needless to say the meal was amazing. We decided to go to the cafe instead of the restaurant. In the restaurant the meal is much pricier; like $95 for prix fixe. In the cafe it is more like $23 for an entree; still pricey for us. We started with Pizzeta with Tomales Bay clams (picture above). It had a really yummy creamy sauce on it and the clams were teensy, especially compared to the Ipswich clams I’m used to. Then I had Wood oven-roasted squid and pimientos with romesco sauce and Dru had Hand-cut rosemary pasta with Devil’s Gulch Ranch rabbit ragu. We were both happy with what we ordered; I have to say I would never  have ordered the squid, but the waiter insisted it was good. Of course he was right. It wasn’t tough at all and the flavor was incredible. For desert I had Meyer lemon sorbet with fresh berries and Dru had Affogato, which apparently means warm espresso over vanilla ice cream. What a perfect way to end a perfect trip!

Meyer lemon sorbet with summer berries

Affogato

Tomato- Basil Soup served with a good Southern cornmeal muffin was the makings of an early Monday dinner, just in time for basketball. Tomato soup is a close cousin to ketchup in my husband’s mind. He was in the mood for his favorite soup as he was feeling a little under the weather from a spring cold; tomato soup is his comfort food and just what he needed to watch the Final Four.

Now I am sure it is quite obvious by now that the husband and I have a little communication problem. We seem to enjoy rather large periods of silence interspersed with talking in a different language, especially when it come to the kitchen. Like the pudding incident, I asked my husband if he wanted me to make him some Tomato soup and he said, yes. He assumed that this would involve a can-opener and a can of soup. He also assumed that because I stepped away from the kitchen for a moment he would be heating the soup.

This is why I found my husband in the kitchen about three feet from taking a can-opener to a can of tomato soup when I walked in the room, horrified at the site. Opting not to say anything as I was sure he had a fever of sorts that rendered him delirious. It was obvious that he didn’t have a clue who’s kitchen he was in, so I quickly came to the rescue. In two seconds he was disarmed from the can-opener and the can of soup was put on the top shelf waiting to expire.

He asked, what are you doing?

Well dear, I am saving you from a ho hum meal.

He replied, I’ve been eating soup from a can for years, I don’t mind.

Well I do, and it would be my pleasure to make some homemade tomato soup for you.

But you are cooking Southern and tomato soup isn’t Southern. How are you going to manage this?

Tomato soup certainly is Southern and I have a recipe or two to prove it.

He caved, If you want to go to the trouble, that’s fine by me.

Really, I am almost as baffled to his reaction to my cooking as I am to the squirrel in Brunswick stew. It just doen’t make sense. Why have a can of soup when you can have homemade soup?

So, along with the tomato soup I thought a cornmeal muffin would fit the bill. Little did I know that it was not that simple? Without thinking I grabbed a recipe. Then I began to bake using a recipe I might add that yielded a dozen great muffins. They just weren’t Southern cornmeal muffins. They were a muffin and they had cormeal, but they weren’t Southern. How can this be, I wondered? A little research better late than never, and I learned something new.

What I first discovered was that the Commonwealth of Massachusetts in 1989 declared in Section 28, that the corn muffin shall be the official muffin of the commonwealth. Being shocked and having searched high and low I cannot find the recipe that went with this bill. How can you pass a bill for an official muffin without a recipe? How would I know if I were eating an official versus an unofficial corn muffin? My curiosity has gotten the best of me. I am going to do a little research to see who introduced this, and ask them for the official recipe, surely they must have it?

This also got me to thinking. What if the Southerners have been claiming fame to their muffin when this is the rightful claim of the North? Everyone knows that corn muffins are Southern, right. Wrong, corn muffins are not Southern. Cornmeal muffins made a certain way are Southern. There is a distinct difference.

Cornmeal muffins are made with little or no flour unlike their Yankee counterpart. They also do not have sugar added to the recipe. Southern cornmeal muffins are rich in taste and savory, often cooked in a cast iron pan with or without buttermilk. As a Yankee in the Southern kitchen, I feel caught in the middle but I dare say I am leaning this side of the Mason-Dixon line on this one, especially since Section 28 does not include the recipe.

Simple, savory rich buttery cornmeal muffins let me know that I am eating a Southern Cornmeal Muffin. A muffin I might add that was eaten the same way hundreds of years ago. It is authentic and in this busy world who doesn’t need authentic. Mind you, it is going to take some time for my taste buds to develop to my new way of cooking. I think in the long run it will be worth it. The closer we eat to the earth, the better the food my friend and the better the earth. Armed with my new discovery I went back to the kitchen to whip up a batch of good ole Southern cornmeal muffins, and am that much happier for it.

Tomato-Basil Soup

Adapted from: Scott Peacock & Edna Lewis, The Gift of Southern Cooking

5 Tablespoons butter

1 medium onion

1 cup carrots

1 cup celery leaves and all

2 teaspoons kosher salt

29 oz can good quality tomatoes, if fresh not available

3 tablespoons sugar

4 cups water

1/2 cup fresh basil

15 oz can evaporated milk and or cream

• Heat the butter in a nonreactive pot adding the chopped onions, chopped carrots and chopped celery.
• Stir well for about 5 minutes to lightly wilted.
• Add tomatoes, sugar, salt and pepper.
• Cook for about 5 more minutes and then add the water.
• Cook for another 15- 30 minutes till vegtables are tender and cooked.
• Add basil, and remove soup from heat allowing to sit for 10 minutes.
• In small batches puree in the blender, returning to the saucepan.
• At this point you can do 1 of 2 things, serve soup as is hot or cold. Or you can add a combination of evaporated milk and or heavy cream to pot.

Corniest Corn Muffins

Dorie Greenspan, Baking from my home to yours

1 cup all-purpose flour

1 cup yellow cornmeal-stone ground

6 tablespoons sugar

2 1/2 teaspoons baking powder

1/4 teaspoon baking soda

Pinch of freshly grated nutmeg

1 cup buttermilk

3 tablespoons unsalted butter, melted

3 tablespoons corn oil

1 large egg

1 large egg yolk

1 cup corn kernels (I used Cope’s since it is not corn season yet)

• Center a rack in the oven and preheat to 400 degrees F.
• Butter 12 regular size muffin tins.
• In a large bowl, whisk together dry ingredients.
• In a large glass measuring cup mix wet ingredients until well blended.
• Pour wet ingredients into dry ingredients and with a whisk or rubber spatula, gently but quickly stir to blend. Don’t worry about the lumps they should be there.
• Stir in corn kernels.
• Divide batter evenly amoungst tins.
• Bake for 15 to 18 minutes, until tops are golden and a think knife comes out clean.
• Transfer pan to a rack and cool 5 minutes.
• Then remove muffins from tin, being carefull.

Southern Cornmeal Muffin

Scott Peacock & Edna Lewis, The Gift of Southern Cooking

1 3/4 cups stone ground cornmeal

1/3 cup all-purpose flour (White Lily if available)

1 tablespoon plus 1 1/2 teaspoons of homemade baking powder

1 1/2 teaspoons salt

5 tablespoons unsalted butter

2 eggs

2 1/2 cups milk

Lard or unsalted butter to grease tins.

• Preheat oven to 425 degrees F.
• Generously grease 12 muffin tins.
• Put dry ingredients in a large bowl and mix until well blended.
• Using your fingers work till butter resembles fine cornmeal mixture.
• In a separate bowl, whisk wet ingredients until mixed.
• Add wet to dry ingredients mixing just until batter is smooth and free of lumps.
• FIll each tin with 1/2 cup batter.
• Bake for 15-20 minutes until golden brown and crusty.
• Cool on rack for 2 minutes before turning out to serve with lots of butter.
• If needed use a thin knife to release the muffins if some are a little stubborn and want to stick.

Cook’s Note: The Southern Cornmeal muffin I have been talking about; well it seems that the cold the husband had founds it’s way to me, so sorry no pictures folks of the Southern cornmeal muffins.  I have been feeling under the weather and haven’t been thinking clearly. Batteries are being recharged and just as soon as I am feeling better, I am planning on posting a good picture of the Southern version. Why a good picture I am sure you are asking? Guess who got a macro lense in the mail yesterday?

As I continue my journey into Southern cooking while waiting for God’s call, I find myself slowing down a little more each day. Taking the time to enjoy a glass of freshly squeezed lemonade while giving another go at making a great biscuit is part of my attempt at being present. Being still while trying to master the art of a truly fine Southern biscuit is hard work. So much of me wants to be anything but still.

Sunday while I prepared my afternoon buffet, I listened to Andrea Bocceli as I cooked and baked. The music was invigorating and kept my mind off of mindless chatter. It allowed me to flow into a rhythm that was joyful. Frankly I think my food as

well as my afternoon was that much better for it. I took my time while juicing the lemons. I was gentle with the biscuit dough. Taking time to think if all was well in my bowl of dough before I added more flour was certainly a change of pace for me. Not to mention a better biscuit for it.Slowing down is important for many reasons. Learning to cook Southern is one of them. The other is trying to prepare myself for God’s call. How can I hear the call if I am rushing? Yesterday I mentioned Laundry and Tosca, now is the perfect time to return to this film.  I will just tell you a little about the theme and Marcia Whitehead whom the film is about. Not one to want to ruin the end of something. I will keep  the outcome a secret.

Someone said, Laundry and Tosca is a poetic investigation of what it means to be called by God to a life that appears impossible. I might add that the difference with Marcia’s response to God’s call and mine is that she is living her calling with much grace. I on the other hand seem to be deaf, ungrateful and obstinate despite my attempts to be otherwise.

For most of her adult life, Marcia Whitehead has lived in a little garage apartment in Southern California and worked a modest-wage job (Never earning more than $12/hour). Like most of us, she lives paycheck to paycheck, and has more debt than savings. And, like most of us, she dreams of an abundant life, beyond the ordinary.

It is said only 40 women in the world have the body and musculature to be a lirico-spinto soprano. Marcia is one of them. Marcia never liked Opera. Marcia sang opera because she heard God tell her to. She still hears that voice that tells her to sing opera and has grown to appreciate the music and stories of opera. Marcia spends all her money on voice lessons which she took after a long day at work and on weekends for over 20 years. 

A random acquaintance arranged a hearing for Marcia with Maestro Franco Iglesias who once had as a student the world renowned Placido Domingo. Maestro would judge her chances at a career in opera. In the time that follows, it becomes clear that Marcia’s dream of an abundant life has already come true.  

I want what Marcia has. I want her peace, her joy. I can not shake the impact these two women have had on me. The part of me that is surrendered to God fully grasps the message. The other part of me that frets about bills, careers, success, and getting passed over for the Gingerbread Lady; so doesn’t get the message they share.

God has a lot of work when it comes to transforming this stubborn soul. I doubt more than I care to say even after all these years of God’s faithfulness and love towards me. I should know better. Having 53 years of experience should be enough. Unlike Marcia whom I believe will hear these words, well done my faithful servant when she goes to heaven.  I will hear, my dear child you missed the blessed life I offered you, while looking for the joyful life you thought I forgot to give you. That is unless I change the way I look at life and God.

To recap an evening spent with Laundry and Tosca the format is as follows. First you watch the film which has everyone in the audience sobbing after the first 5 minutes, and that is only if they are hardened. Most begin crying sooner than 5 minutes. After the film Lauralee Farrer the author of this award winning film, who also is a brilliant writer tells the story through her writing. I have goosebumps just thinking of her words. Then as if that wasn’t enough to knock loose my grip on the meaningless world I cling to. Marcia Whitehead sung for us. More tears followed. Then a question and answer session came, with one of the last questions to Marcia being, What are you doing now with your career?

Keeping true to my desire not to tell you how the story turns out, you must see it for yourself. They tour all over the country visiting colleges, theological seminaries, churches and have featured in all the major film festivals.  Both Lauralee and Marcia are devout Christians, but do not let that stop you if your faith is different. This is a message for everyone. I say this because, I have heard that they leave audiences in film festivals teary eyed and speechless regardless of their beliefs. They go in to watch a film as they are. They come out a different person for watching and experiencing this film. This is a message for all of humanity.

Wait you say, this is a food blog. What does this film have to do with cooking? Well it has everything to do with it. I have been led to cook and write about cooking.  So, what if cooking and writing is my calling? What if God is waiting for me to realize this? What if God is using the kitchen as a way to transform me? I am beginning to suspect that while I transform some flour and butter along with a little cream into a great biscuit; God is transforming me and the way I look at life.

Realizing that stomachs are growling and you all are getting thirsty. Perhaps now is a good time as any to move to the recipes at hand. This biscuit recipe is my favorite so far.  It is the one to be topped, which I haven’t seen done yet. The recipe is courtesy of The Flying Biscuit a local place in Atlanta. Their biscuits fly out the door. I think heaven has a standing order for their biscuits every Sunday. They are that good.

Homemade Lemonade

Scott Peacock & Edna Lewis; The Gift of Southern Cooking

2 cups granulated sugar

1 1/2 cups freshly squeezed lemonade

1/4 teaspoon salt

2 quarts bottled spring water, chilled

2 lemons thinly sliced

• Put granulated sugar, freshly squeezed lemon juice, salt and water into a large bowl or pitcher.
• Stir well until sugar is dissolved.
• Then add lemon slices.
• Refrigerate until ready to use.

Flying Biscuits

Adapted;The Flying Biscuit Cookbook

3 cups all-purpose flour, White Lily works best

1 tablespoon plus 1 1/2 teaspoons baking powder (make homemade, see note on home page of site)

3/4 teaspoon salt

2 tablespoons plus 1 1/2 teaspoons sugar

6 tablespoons sweet butter room temperature 

2/3 cup heavy cream

2/3 cup half and half

2 tablespoons half and half for brushing top of biscuits

1 tablespoon sugar for top of biscuits (if making a sweet biscuit)

Adapted Version:

4 slices of cooked bacon, coarsely chopped

1/4 cup finely chopped chives or any other herb

• Preheat oven to 375F
• Line sheet pan with parchment paper
• Place dry ingredients in a large mixing bowl.
• Cut butter into 1/2 tablespoon-sized bits and add to flour.
• Using your fingertips or a pastry cutter, blend till mixture resembles coarse meal.
• Add bacon and chives.
• Make a well in the center of the ingredients and pour in the creams.
• Stir with a wooden spoon until dough just begins to come together into a ball.
• Turn dough onto a lightly floured surface and knead 2 or 3 times to form a cohesive mass.
• Do not overwork the dough.
• Using a rolling pin, roll the dough to a 1 inch thickness.
• The correct thickness is key to turning out a stately biscuit.
• Dip a 2 1/2 inch biscuit cutter in flour then cut the dough.
• Do not twist when cutting, a simple up down motion is correct.
• Scraps can be gathered together and rerolled one more time.
• Place biscuits on a prepared sheet, 1/4 inch apart.
• Brush tops with cream.
• If not making an bacon chive biscuit you can sprinkle sugar on top of biscuits after brushing on cream.
• Bake 20 minutes until lightly browned.
• Makes 8-12 depending on size of cutter.

This is a light flakey biscuit with just a touch of sweetness to the dough. It worked just as well adding the bacon bits and chives to it. I enjoyed my afternoon, and found myself at peace if for only a little while. Somehow I sensed God smiling down on me while I baked and enjoyed the story of Laundry and Tosca again. I smiled back at God. It was a good feeling, I might add.

Southern Baked Eggs with Cream & Bacon are on the menu today for Sunday Brunch. For clarity A Yankee in a Southern Kitchen post was written almost two weeks agos when the circumstances in my life were much different than they are today. That being said, I am most grateful for the early morning wake-up calls from God.

It just isn’t my style to tell a story without good food to go with it. So along with the story of what pushed me over the edge and made me do something drastic like deciding to cook Southern for a year, we will have Baked Eggs with Cream for Sunday Brunch. But first the story.

 A Yankee In A Southern Kitchen

Being woken unexpectedly  at 5:30 am for a few weeks now has left me bright eyed and ready to go.  I rise early in the morning, but of late have had to rely on the alarm to make sure I am out of bed by 6:30am.  Early morning has been my alone time in the world, my best time of the day.  The daunting task of going to work has slowed me down as I attempt to avoid the inevitable………going to work and dealing with a difficult situation.

When I am woken extra early it has meant that God is at work in me and not wasting at time at the task. This is a pattern I can rely on. Being woken early with this kind of energy typically means God is about to do something great. Something like change a bad attitude I am holding on to. Laying on my heart to prayer more fervently or simply to start praying with a fresh spirit once again.  Sometimes, and this is the most exciting. I am being woken early in preparation for being creative. Morning is my creative time, and I hope this is what God has in mind. Whatever the reason, I believe God is helping me find my way out of the pit. This is his Grace.  God is extending a hand; I am grabbing hold while keeping my eyes ahead, and I do not know where I am going.

So here is what I have been waking up with in the morning………………….Pimento Cheese. Yep, you heard me right, Pimento Cheese.  Pimento Cheese is in my head and it is not budging one bit.

Having lived in the South since 1978 moving to Charleston in 2000 from Atlanta, I have not made any attempt to try and cook Southern. I can make descent biscuits and butter-beans but that is it! I have no idea about the culture, why they ate like they did, what they eat, what season produces what food, nothing………. zip.  Shame on me; as I have even had the distinct pleasure of having a 7 page spread of myself and my dinnerware featured in Southern Lady a few years back. You would think fame lurking in the background would have prompted me to get with it in the kitchen and embrace my new culture.  A Southern home worth its salt has a crock of this good food tucked away in the refrigerator just in case someone should have a hankering for a Pimento Cheese sandwich. My cupboard is bare of this simple food.

Well, Gourmet Magazines recent tribute and article on Edna Lewis and Scott Peacock prompted me to purchase their book; The Gift of Southern Cooking a month ago. Coincidentally one of the first blog comments other than my family came from a woman named Bailey Barash. Bailey did a wonderful documentary on Edna Lewis titled Fried Chicken & Sweet Potato Pie. It is a great piece and I encourage anyone who reads this post to visit her site or Gourmet Magazines site and watch the short film at www.bbarash.com. Unfortuneatly my work schedule did not allow me to attend a presentation and feast by Scott Peacock while he appeared at the Charleston Food & Wine Festival last week.  

I am taking all this information as a sign as to where I should be going. I am heading to the South. The South you say, aren’t you already in the South? You bet, I am here but have not been present. I have had my head in the pit. At the very least my head could have been in the sand seeing that the beach is a mere 5 miles from my house.  I am A Yankee in a Southern Kitchen. A woman clueless to the wonderful world of Southern cooking and the heritage that surrounds me. A woman who 25 years ago washed laundry for five by hand while on a luxury holiday in lieu of Bahamian Cooking lessons. I’ve lived here for over 7 years and haven’t had the sense to learn to cook to much of anything in the South.

I need a miracle or two and while I wait for God to do whatever God has planned. I am going to become as close to being a Southerner as I can short of a blood transfusion and a mint julep.

This is what I am going to do while I wait for God, or while God waits for me. I am going to cook Southern. This is a feat that is going to require a change of heart, perseverance, good humor and a new-found appreciation for all that is Southern. You can read the guidelines to my year long sabbatical on the Southern Kitchen Rules page.

Southern is all about hospitality, so we are going to eat well, enjoy the finer things in life. I promise you when the year is over, you will be saying y’all while making the best Southern Biscuits, Buttermilk Fried Chicken and Butter Beans you have ever had. 

What’s in it for me? I don’t know………but I am certain GOD does.

Southern Baked Eggs with Cream & Ham

Adapted from; Gourmet Magazine, January 2008

I improvised a lot as I was minus a few ingredients. It did not matter as this dish was the perfect meal after returning home from church.  A fresh pot of hot coffee was made to go with it. What is that hiding next to the eggs you ask? Stop by tomorrow and find out.

1/4 cup thinly sliced ham or chopped cooked bacon

1/3 cup heavy cream

3 tablespoons finely chopped sweet onion

1 chopped scallion with some of the greens

1/2 teaspoon finely chopped garlic

3 tablespoon of fresh chopped parsely

2 large eggs

• Preheat oven to 390 degrees with rack in middle.
• Bring bacon and cream to a boil reducing till thick and creamy.
• Cook chopped onions in 1 tablespoon of butter till softened.
• Add chopped parsely to mixture.
• Divide onion mixture between two ramekins
• Add 1/3 of the bacon cream mixture to it.
• Crack an egg into each ramekin, seasoning with salt & pepper.
• Spoon remainder of cream mixture between the two ramekins.
• Set ramekins in a shallow baking sheet and bake for 15minutes. 
• The original recipe called for spinach an ingredient I was out of. I also am a little funny about eggs and usually only eat omelets or frittatas. Therefore I added more of the ingredients to the eggs. Gourmet’s recipe courtesy of Scott Peacock was much lighter than my version.

It is beautiful and sunny here today in Charleston, with a nice cool spring breeze. Most appropriate for an outing to a Strawberry Farm…………………….