Brunch

I know, I know: Honey is on the “absolutely not, you jerk” list for most vegans. And that’s fair enough. But what to do in such situations? Naturally I turn to agave nectar, my not-at-all secret weapon. EZ-PZ! The Honey Buns recipe is essentially a meddled-with Wonder Bun recipe that has been given the honey concoction and spruced up with vegan sugar for added texture. The extra sweetness we pick up from the honey-agave makes for a perfect day-starter for when you’re not feeling at all like paying attention to your alarm clock.

The slightest whiff of cinnamon and melted sugar is likely to send any lady into a nostalgic reverie for the food court of her youth. Today this recipe commands center stage at the bakery whenever we fire up a batch—no small feat considering the competition of fragrant apple muffins, nutty cornbread, and dozens of other aromatic samplings. You’ll find that BabyCakes NYC’s Wonder Buns have everything you’ve been missing for so long: that subtly sticky chewiness, the spicy pockets intermixed with the sweet streaks of joy, a dense but layered texture that is the stuff of dreams.

What better wintertime breakfast could there possibly be? The best part of this recipe, in my opinion, is that it delivers on all your gingerbread fantasies in a quick and easy way that sidesteps the comparative fuss of pulling together a full gingerbread loaf. Sheepishly, I’ll admit it here and now: I have been known, on occasion, to abandon the maple syrup and instead douse these with vanilla frosting or glaze . . . for breakfast. Give me the benefit of the doubt before you judge, please, and try it for yourself.

Pancakes! It is safe to say that besides ice cream, pancakes are my favorite food. Is that entire sentence strange coming from a gluten- and dairy-free baker? Probably. In any event, here it is, a recipe with all the buttery goodness added right in. Please note: I like my pancakes extremely thin, so expect that from this recipe. If you want them meatier, just add 1/3 cup more flour. You want another no-brainer of a recipe to go along with this one? How about the sweet aftertaste and the mildly chunky texture of banana mashed up against the crunchy outlines of the pancake crust and enveloped inside a slight billowy center? Take the day off work already! Personally—and by that I mean in this recipe—I sometimes add pre-mashed bananas so as to create a subtle fruit-to-batter mélange. But if you’re some sort of breakfast bungee-jumper or whatever, you could hack them up rough-like and have a deliciously rocky stack.

Omelets make a wonderful meal any time of day. This omelet is just right for those summer evenings when the next thing you know the sun has just gone down and it’s nine o’clock.

Thanksgiving Thursday starts off before dawn with Donald tiptoeing out of the house dressed in camouflage and with me making Aunt Mary’s congealed salad of ground cranberries, apples, and navel oranges that I should have done the day before. (It’s the recipe from the Tchula Garden Club Cookbook—except you would have to go across the road and get Mary’s penciled-in revisions.) Instead, I sat by the fire drinking wine, catching up with extended family, and watched the kids pick up pecans. Now I’m hoping this sets before two o’clock dinnertime, which, thankfully, it does real nice.

What does this look like, chopped liver? Actually it looks like a mosaic. Like great Southern folk art, this recipe takes something humble and puts it on a pedestal so it can be admired. Chicken livers are so inexpensive and can be transformed into a luxury with the addition of a poultry seasoning blend, onions, butter, and bacon. Lining the bowl with plastic wrap and taking some artistic license with bread and butter pickles and pimientos means that this spread, when inverted for serving, becomes something to behold.

We always understood where our food came from. More often than not, the source was the land outside our back door! Pumpkin bread began with the pumpkin seed that we planted, tended, and eventually harvested. My mom never bought cans of cooked pumpkin, so the only time we could have pumpkin bread was when there was a surplus of pumpkins in our garden. This made me keenly aware of why pumpkins and pumpkin treats are a tradition for the autumn holidays—this is when pumpkins are actually in season! In fact, pumpkin bread is a Halloween tradition in my house. Those jack-o’-lanterns offer more than just spooky light—the pumpkins give us the makings for baking as well. I love cinnamon and this bread is definitely cinnamony, though you can use less if desired. As the bread bakes, the kitchen fills with a sweet, caramel aroma. The bread is very dark outside and very moist within.

Aunt Elsa always had a huge container of biscuit mix in her freezer, so whenever she needed biscuits she would scoop some out, add water or buttermilk, and have a batch baking in just a few minutes. When I was a kid, it seemed like magic. I was an adult when she brought me my first container of mix and I realized that this magic powder was in fact her own version of instant biscuit mix! Sometimes I mix up 3 or 4 times the recipe and store it in the freezer so I, too, can make magic biscuits. Tender and flaky, they are best straight out of the oven. The baked biscuits don’t store well, but I’ve rarely had any leftovers!

I totally owe this one to the brilliant simplicity of Hedy Goldsmith. A dessert panini? Why didn’t I think of that?! Now, dessert panini might not be your first thought, but this recipe brings a sweet new definition to the sandwich, tasting like a warm banana split in a cocoon of rich bread. If you own a panini press, then you already know that it invariably turns a regular sandwich into something irresistible. The texture contrast between the crunchy exterior and the soft, gooey interior is a big part of the sex appeal. The fleur de sel makes this dish; without the salty balance it would be way too sweet. This panini also rocks for brunch.

If you have ever tried to make homemade doughnuts, you know that the process can be a bit of a hassle. But transforming store-bought biscuit dough into delicious golden doughnuts could not be easier, seriously. The slightly crunchy texture of fried dough dusted with anise sugar is a perfect complement to tangy orange marmalade.

Grits get a bad rap, man. Most of the time grits are watery and served with greasy eggs in a diner. Grits can be so much more! By using good-quality coarsely ground grits and cooking them right, you can easily elevate this Southern staple. Serve with Slow-Roasted Pork Shoulder with Pickled Onions (page 162).

Panade sounds kind of “chefy” but in truth, the dish, made from crusty bread and lots of cheese, is just a cross between a savory bread pudding and holiday stuffing. When mixed with eggs and cream, the bread softens so it becomes almost soufflé-like, with pillows of puffy goodness infused with chard and caramelized onions. If something can be peasant food and elegant at once, this is it! Pair this as a side with Whole Roasted Chicken with Plumped Raisins, Toasted Pine Nuts, and Arugula (page 142) or serve it with a simple green salad, and you’ve got dinner.

Are two yolks better than one? You bet! I have a real fondness for double-yolk eggs. In fact, I think every egg should have two yolks—I’m not an egg-white-omelet kind of guy to be sure. Luckily, there’s a farmer in my area who farms nothing but fresh double-yolk eggs; it’s pretty cool. Now, assuming you might not be able to get these, for ease, I’ve simply added extra yolks to the recipe. Crack the eggs into a ramekin along with some tomato sauce and cheese, and bake until the egg whites begin to solidify while the cheese turns into a cap of melty goodness. This makes a great start to a hearty meal and can elevate an ordinary steak-and-eggs dish to a special brunch. Make it ahead and pop in the oven when almost ready to serve.

Deviled eggs are a classic that doesn’t need to be reinvented with all sorts of fancy ingredients. When it comes to making hard-boiled eggs, the biggest problem is easily overcooking them, which produces a nasty green ring around the yolk and a rubbery texture. The explanation for boiling eggs may seem like overkill, but trust me, you will have total success for the rest of your life.

Luscious, juicy, and fragrant, apricots are one of the first signs of summer. The bright orange fruit is delicately sweet with a subtle tartness. Enjoy fresh apricots while you can—the season is short. Peaches make a fine substitute, however. This simple jam is made without messing with pectin and the list of ingredients couldn’t be shorter. These crostini are truly the perfect bite: the toast is crunchy, the fresh ricotta creamy, and the apricots luscious and bright.

I ate this magical meal at Girl Scout camp and then thought about it for the next thirty-odd years until we went camping in the mountains near Joe’s. It’s a full breakfast in a paper bag, easy to make if you already have a campfire burning (or hot embers in a charcoal grill or fireplace), portable, and delicious. As the bacon in the bottom of the paper bag renders and becomes crispy-chewy, the fat protects the paper from burning and gently steams the egg. This cannot be prepared in advance: after the eggs are cracked, the bags should be dangling over the hot coals within a minute. If your mess hall prefers scrambled eggs, they work well, too.

We normally think of bacon as the thin slices of cured pork found in the aisles of our favorite grocery store or as crispy strips of meat acting as a tasty buffer between our eggs and biscuits in the early morning. The USDA defines bacon as “the cured belly of a swine carcass,” but it is more loosely accepted as cuts of meat taken from the belly, sides, or back of a pig. Big Bob Gibson was fond of bacon not only as a delicious food in its own right, but as part of the cooking process. He would season slab bacon and cook it above leaner cuts of meat such as ham, pork tenderloin, turkey, whole goat, or venison. The meat below the slab bacon would bathe in a shower of hot lard, ensuring a tender, moist, and flavorful result. Big Bob also placed slab bacon in the rib cage of whole pigs while they were cooking on the pit to ensure that the ribs and loin would not overcook while the shoulders and hams of the pig were still roasting. Diced slab bacon also made an occasional appearance in Big Bob’s Brunswick stew, baked beans, pinto beans, black-eyed peas, and greens. If Big Bob’s regular customers were observant, the aroma of slab bacon was a giveaway that their food would be extra tasty that day. Slab bacon was a special treat to him because he enjoyed the charred crisp edges. This recipe maximizes the amount of charred caramelized bits by cutting the slab in pieces prior to cooking. It was not a regular menu item, but it showed up when Big Bob wanted to add extra flavor to other foods he was preparing that day. Although Big Bob’s favorite slab bacon recipe was never written down, the following recipe comes close to matching his flavors.