Easy

This is my standard winter vegetable side, which is so simple, comforting, and savory-sweet that I make it at least once a week during the cold months.

This is a refined version of those marshmallow-topped sweet potato casseroles that are popular around the holidays. The crunchy, buttery streusel topping and unexpected addition of orange zest and black and cayenne peppers make for a wonderfully fragrant and complexly flavored twist on a comfort-food classic.

My mom used to cook greens in such big batches that she would wash them on the rinse cycle in the washing machine. For her, a “mess” was a discrete unit of measurement equal to approximately one large grocery bag full. I think most Southerners operate under this assumption, at least as far as greens are concerned. It may seem like you’re starting out with far more greens than you’ll ever need, but keep in mind that they’ll cook down quite a bit. If they don’t all fit in the pan at first, start with as many as will fit and add to the pot as the greens cook down.

What better way to make use of the frenzy of vegetables that bursts on the scene in midsummer than these easy grilled skewers, all dressed up in pesto vinaigrette. Keep it fun and simple by loading the skewers with whatever mix of fresh, seasonal vegetables you find at the market.

These baked sweet potato halves couldn’t be easier to throw together, but the unexpected addition of piney rosemary and fresh lime makes them anything but ordinary.

Succotash is a traditional stew of fresh butter beans and corn made velvety by the last-minute addition of butter. The basics—beans and corn—are a must, but beyond that it seems most every Southern family has its own particular version. I typically let the farmer’s market determine the mix of vegetables, but this rendition, with sweet bell peppers, basil, and summer squash, is one of my all-time favorites.

Unlike my mom and many Southern cooks of her generation, for whom fatback was the preferred flavoring agent, I most often make peas in a savory broth flavored by bacon, country ham, or olive oil. Either way, the cooked peas yield a rich, saucy pot likker that just begs to be soaked up with cornbread.

Long-simmering red beans practically cook themselves, a fact that didn’t escape the many generations of hardworking Louisiana Creole women who supposedly made this dish every Monday, on laundry day. Even now, many Creole restaurants serve red beans and rice as a lunch special on Mondays.

A Charleston classic, pirlou (aka purloo or pilau) is an everything-but-the-kitchen-sink rice pilaf that is the lowcountry contribution to the family of rice dishes, including jambalaya and gumbo, hailing from the rice-growing regions of the Southeast. Pirlous usually feature seafood of some kind—as you might expect, given their watery origins—but I like the way this simplified version showcases the grassy flavor of fresh field peas.

Dirty rice is a Cajun specialty so named for the brownish hue imparted by the chicken livers or giblets that also provide its rich mineral flavor. Today, we mostly think of dirty rice as a side, but because it is a cheap source of protein and calories it would have been served as a main dish in leaner times. This version—streaked with a bright green scattering of fresh herbs—is my take on Paul Prudhomme’s classic recipe.

Carolina Gold rice, a fat, golden-hued, long-grained variety native to South Carolina, is so flavorful that only simple preparations are required. It is excellent in its most basic form, cooked in water with just a little salt and pepper, but for special occasions I opt for this gently embellished preparation.

Oven-caramelized squash and tangy blue cheese make this creamy side hearty enough to double as a vegetarian entrée. It makes an excellent weeknight supper crumbled with crispy bacon or prosciutto and served with a simple green salad and a glass of crisp, sweet Sauternes or creamy Chardonnay.

Over the years, my love of stone-ground yellow grits has turned me into a certified grits snob. And, like most Southerners with a grits chip on my shoulder, I tend to blame flavorless “quick grits”—the finely milled, prepackaged variety that has been pre-steamed to be partially cooked—for unfairly maligning this Southern delicacy’s reputation. So imagine my surprise when I discovered, thanks to an ingenious Craig Claiborne recipe, that this puffy, soufflé-like casserole is actually much better made with quick grits. There’s just no denying texture that light and airy. You can, of course, use stone-ground grits; the casserole will be a littler grainier but equally flavorful.

Here is the only recipe for basic cheese grits you’ll ever need. Distilled to their essence, grits are tender, satisfying, and endlessly versatile. Serve them plain with eggs or meat or dress them up with anything from fresh herbs and country ham to roasted garlic and sautéed mushrooms.

Roasted vegetables are so easy and delicious—with nothing more than a drizzle of olive oil, a dash of sea salt, and a hot oven, the vegetables get all crispy and caramelized on the outside and soft in the middle. It’s a great dish for company, since it can be made ahead of time and reheated or served at room temperature. But even when you don’t have guests, cook enough for a crowd and use the leftovers in salads, sandwiches, quesadillas, or omelets. Most all vegetables are good for roasting, including turnips, beets, rutabagas, fennel, asparagus, corn, summer squash, tomatoes, onions, garlic, and all kinds of winter squash and pumpkins. Just make sure to wait to add quick-cooking vegetables until any slow-cooking vegetables are almost done.

I grew up on this everyday pot roast, which each member of my family makes with his or her own special twist. My mom swears simple is best, with nothing more than meat and vegetables to flavor the dish. I, on the other hand, add wine, broth, and herbs to maximize the flavor of the meat, and I roast most of the vegetables separately so they get nice and caramelized on the outside and soft and sweet in the center.

Meatloaf, like chili, is something I make when I have a dozen or so little jars of something-or-other in the fridge that need to be used up. That’s how I came up with pickled jalapeño, which adds a nice kick to this otherwise traditional meatloaf. In this version, a little pork adds extra flavor to the mix. It makes for a delicious and hearty meal, but it’s great for leftovers, too, which can be used to make sandwiches that are as scrumptious as they are out of the ordinary. Peter loves open-face meatloaf sandwiches topped with a fried egg.