Brunch

Not too sweet and just moist enough—this corn bread goes with anything! Try it with Spicy Oven-Baked Pepper Shrimp (page 69) and All-Day Beef Chili (page 122).

We’re not too modest to say that we’ve perfected the quintessential Southern bowl of supercreamy grits. Try this for breakfast with fried eggs and ham or serve it with Sautéed Shrimp with Bacon and Mushrooms (page 67) or Sweet and Spicy Pork (page 128).

Mama used to make us cheese toasts and cinnamon toasts for breakfast. (She would leave the oven door open after making them, so we could warm up on chilly mornings.) We started to play with that for Jack, and came up with these tasty cream cheese sandwiches sprinkled with cinnamon sugar. They taste a bit like a cinnamon raisin bagel with cream cheese, but the crunch of the sugar on the outside and the creamy cheese inside make them way more interesting. Plus the cream cheese adds protein, so they’re heartier than your average serving of cinnamon toast.

For those of you who aren’t familiar with them, hush puppies are crunchy little cornmeal fritters. We always have them at fish fries, and they’re a real hit with kids (and everyone else). This is a healthier version of one of our Granny Paul’s specialties. We bake them in mini muffin pans to have on hand for a snack. They travel well, too, so they’re a great lunch box option.

Pimiento cheese is the bright orange spread that Southerners are crazy for because it’s comforting and delicious and traditional. It’s most often served as a dip or spread, but it’s also good in a sandwich all by itself or as a topping on burgers. I like to make up a big batch for family gatherings and barbecues, and if I have some left over, I’ll eat it in a sandwich the next day. I’m going to give you a big recipe, too, so you can do the same.

Deviled eggs remind me of church picnics and Fourth of July parties and just about every occasion I grew up going to where there was food involved. Of course I make my own deviled eggs, but you know I’m not going to make them like everybody else’s; I put my own stamp on them. And that means barbecue. Deviled eggs stuffed with a little of it makes them better than you’ve ever had them, I promise you that.

I prefer thin French pancakes to the more doughy American kind, so I often make a batch of crêpe batter for a Sunday breakfast and have plenty left over to whip up a rolled savory crêpe filled with some leftover that needs dressing up, or a sweet version enrobing some fruit or berries. For breakfast, I slather a warm crêpe with yogurt—preferably Greek-style, because it’s less runny—put another crêpe on top and more yogurt, and leave the final layer bare to catch the warm maple syrup I pour over it. A few berries scattered around complete the picture I remember how James Beard would teach the making and baking of crêpes and pancakes in his opening class for beginners. He liked the students to observe what happened when the batter—some with baking powder, as in American pancakes; some not, as in French crêpes—hit the hot surface of the pan and baked: one rising perceptibly, the other hardly at all but acquiring a crisper tan. And he would prowl around among the students, encouraging them to use their fingers to turn the crêpe and get the feel of the texture. The “nervous Nellies,” as Julia Child always called them, held back, but the intrepid relished the quick finger-flip, and you could tell that they were the ones who were really going to enjoy cooking.

All of us yearn sometimes for a particular remembered taste, and we want to re-create it. I feel that way about popovers, perhaps because they are associated with memories of family discussions about the way to obtain the perfect popover (they all tasted good to me). My aunt Lucy in Barre, Vermont, was thrilled when she got a new state-of-the-art stove and discovered that her popovers could go into a cold oven the night before. All she had to do was set the time and then press a button so that the oven would turn on magically and have the popovers baked in time for breakfast. But my aunt Marian, seven miles away in Montpelier, insisted that you couldn’t put popovers into a cold oven. And they had a competition that, as I remember, didn’t prove anything one way or the other. In more recent years, Marion Cunningham discovered that the secret to a high rise and a crispy exterior was to use Pyrex cups set at a distance from one another, so the heat could circulate. Naturally, a new popover pan was soon on the market based on that principle. Even more significant,at least for the single cook, was her discovery that if you prick the popovers in several places with a knife as soon as they emerge from the oven, the steam will escape and the popovers will not turn soggy—a valuable tip if you want to reheat one to enjoy the next day. But they don’t keep long, so when I’m alone I make just two in my new popover-pan cups and have one piping hot for dinner (it’s particularly good with red meat, reminding me of our family Sunday dinners of roast beef and Yorkshire pudding) and heat up the other the next morning for breakfast, to be eaten with soft butter and my own gooseberry jam. Who could ask for anything more?

I usually make these in the summer, when berries are plentiful and bursting with flavor. I gather the berries and put all the ingredients out the night before, and it takes but a few minutes to whip up the batter. Then there’s time to go for a swim and work up an appetite while the muffins bake. If you have family and guests around, just double the recipe. This more modest amount will give you a dozen mini-muffins, which I prefer, plus two regular-sized ones that I bake in small Pyrex cups. If you don’t eat them all, they freeze well.

I don’t know any chef who travels with his own grits except Scott Peacock. And you can understand why. Once you have tasted those Southern stone-ground grits, it is hard to settle for less. But I hope he will forgive me for offering here a recipe for ordinary supermarket grits. They cook in 20 minutes, and I have borrowed Scott’s method of cooking them partially in milk, which makes them so much creamier. This way, at least you may get so hooked on grits that you’ll send away for the grittier stone- ground variety and give over part of a Sunday afternoon to stirring them as they cook slowly for a long time, the longer the better. Either way, grits are good with so many things—shrimp, chicken, game, pork, ham. I always make extra so that I can have some fried grits for breakfast the next day. Avoid instant grits and look for the old-fashioned ones.

This recipe is inspired by one that Marion Cunningham created for her book Cooking with Children, when she found that the youngsters in her cooking class didn’t have the patience to stir and stir for 40 minutes. It makes a satisfying supper the first time around, and my version allows you to be flexible with the vegetable embellishments, so you use up some of your leftovers. If you want to have the treat of a delicious crispy polenta cake to enjoy later in the week, increase this recipe by adding an additional 1/4 cup polenta and 3/4 cup more warm water so you’ll have that extra polenta to grill or fry

This is apt to be a messy-looking pancake. But who cares? It’s just for you, and it’s delicious. I particularly like it with a slice or two of smoked salmon and a dollop of sour cream, or of the creamy top of good whole-milk yogurt. But the pancake goes with so many things.