Baking

This moist cornbread is an ideal companion to bean soups and chilis.

Try serving this offbeat pan bread, studded with pink beans and scallions, with hearty vegetable soups and stews. I especially like this with soups that feature corn and/or squash.

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).

I’m known for barbecue, not for baking. But there are times when I’m called on to produce a dessert, and I’ll tell you right now that there’s nothing easier to make than this apple crunch. It’s like apple pie without the hassle; you don’t even have to make a crust. If you’re really feeling desperate and in a big hurry, you can top the apples with half of the batter of a boxed cake mix; it’s good that way, too.

Cornbread is the Southern starch; it’s been in the South as long as there have been cooks to make it. Some people I know still call it corn pone. I always cook it in a well-seasoned cast-iron skillet and add my secret ingredient: cracklin’s. These are fried pieces of pork skin, and they are incredibly delicious; they’re the by-product of rendering pig skin for fat, and because I cook a lot of whole hogs I have the makings for them around all the time. If you don’t, feel free to substitute some nice crispy bacon instead. You might also add some chopped red bell pepper for a change and some color.

I can’t resist making this special tart for myself when my Duchess apple tree in Vermont is laden with the most flavorful apples I’ve ever tasted. I’ve never sprayed the tree, so, yes, there are what we call wormholes, but I peel around them or dig out the dark tunnels with the point of a knife. If you’re using a frozen portion of your own tart dough, remember to take it out in the morning and let it defrost at room temperature. If you’re making up a new batch, be sure to make extra to put away for a repeat performance.

Try to get good country apples—firm, juicy, and with a tart flavor. This version of a baked apple includes some indigenous Northeast Kingdom products.

Every summer, I get my share of the syrup from my maple trees in northern Vermont that my cousin John taps in the spring. I particularly like the dark syrup he produces, and I devise ways to use it in old-fashioned desserts like this one. I also use the tart apples from a Duchess tree that embraces the house. So I consider this dessert a gift of nature, and I hope you’ll find your own good sources for its ingredients.

Crisps and crumbles—they are one and the same—were always a favorite in our family, and I miss having them on a regular basis. But I found it’s very easy to make just one portion in a small casserole dish (I use an onion-soup bowl).

I find that most store-bought oatmeal cookies can’t touch the rich homemade variety I remember from my childhood. We used to get them at the old Schrafft’s stores, and when I asked Jim Beard if he remembered those cookies and, if so, could he give me the recipe, he immediately called the head of the company and got a formula for producing a huge amount. Jim helped translate some of the unfamiliar ingredients and reduce the recipe to a manageable amount. I have been making this oatmeal cookie ever since—now in small amounts. Double the recipe if you have children around.

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?

Recently, when I came upon a jar of peanut butter that had been around a while, my New England frugality wouldn’t let me throw it out; instead visions of peanut butter cookies danced in my head. I hadn’t made them in years, and I discovered they are well worth reviving.