Simmer

Mama loves this soup. What’s not to love? It’s a hearty bowl of sweet, brown, caramelized onions in a rich beef broth, enriched with a dose of sherry and topped with deliciously nutty, golden brown, melted Gruyère cheese. Why does Gruyère taste so good? Aged, low-moisture cheeses such as Gruyère and Parmigiano-Reggiano have a stronger protein structure than younger, softer cheeses like fontina or fresh mozzarella, and require higher temperatures to melt. The higher heat, combined with less moisture, causes the protein to actually break down, bringing out their nutty flavor.

I reach for my immersion blender when I prepare pureed soups. If you don’t have one, a regular blender is fine, but use it with care: let hot soup cool for about ten minutes before blending, or the steam could force the lid off. Don’t fill the blender carafe more than halfway or the whirling soup could force off the lid and spew out. Finally, hold the lid on tightly with a heavy-duty kitchen towel. You’ll find many types of winter squash in your produce department. For this sweet-savory soup, reach past the standard acorn and butternut varieties for something new like carnival, delicata, or kabocha for a different feel and flavor.

A French classic, this soup marries humble ingredients and well-executed technique to produce an excellent first course or a warming meal with cornbread on a cold winter night. When chilled, this is the famous vichyssoise, a great soup for a cool day. Omit the cream if you want a lighter soup.

Dede always preferred to plant his corn patch in the fruitful black soil at the river’s edge. He taught me that when corn is ripe and ready to be picked, the silk at the top of the ear should be dark brown, almost black. It is not unusual to see people peeling back the husks in search of ears with perfect rows of kernels. Just take a peek to make sure the ear is full and free of worms, but keep the husk on to keep the corn moist and sweet. Do not bother with this recipe unless it is summer and you can make it with fresh corn and the best tomatoes, preferably heirloom. You will only be disappointed. Heirloom tomatoes, varieties passed down through generations by farmers and gardeners the world over, come in all shapes, sizes, colors, and tastes. If you cannot find heirlooms, this garnish would also be delicious with any ripe tomato from your garden or market.

My grandfather used lots and lots of black pepper, especially to season Meme’s vegetable soup. It tasted wonderful, so it wasn’t like he was trying to hide the taste. He just loved pepper. We always had vegetable soup in the winter, using the vegetables we had canned or frozen that summer. This recipe easily doubles or triples. I like to make a large batch and enjoy it a few days in a row. You can prepare this with the traditional ham bone or opt for a vegetarian version. Serve with piping hot biscuits.

Well made stocks are one of the foundations of classic French cuisine. A good stock is redolent with flavor, clear, not cloudy, and rich with the naturally occurring gelatin in the bones. Have you made roast chicken and refrigerated the leftovers? Then, the next day you look at the chicken and the juices have congealed into a kind of meat Jell-O? That’s the gelatin that gives stocks—and the soups and sauces made from them—their wonderful flavor.

Well made stocks are one of the foundations of classic French cuisine. A good stock is redolent with flavor, clear, not cloudy, and rich with the naturally occurring gelatin in the bones. Have you made roast chicken and refrigerated the leftovers? Then, the next day you look at the chicken and the juices have congealed into a kind of meat Jell-O? That’s the gelatin that gives stocks—and the soups and sauces made from them—their wonderful flavor.

You simply won’t believe your mouth when you taste these greens. They smell like bacon, and taste a lot like bacon, but there is no bacon. The flavor comes from smoked salt. In its pure state, salt is a simple chemical compound, sodium chloride. There are many types of salt from all over the world that contain different elements and minerals. But things get really “fired up” when salt is smoked. The best ones are slowly smoked over a natural fire, often made of used oak barrels recycled from making wine. The smoke permeates the salt crystals, infusing them with a rich, distinct smoked taste, and transforms their color from a light toasty brown to deep amber. This ingredient adds a unique flavor to a wide range of dishes, including beef, pork, duck, chicken, and fish. I use it most often in Southern-style vegetables, to replicate that smoky taste evocative of hog jowl or bacon without the fat, and it is great for vegetarians. Other favorites that I prepare with smoked salt are black-eyed peas and butter beans. If you can’t find smoked salt (available online and at specialty markets), you have permission to use bacon.

San Marzano tomatoes are grown in the shadow of Mount Vesuvius, southeast of Naples. The highly fertile volcanic soil of the San Marzano Valley, coupled with lots of sunshine and a benevolent Mediterranean climate, adds up to tomato heaven. The San Marzano tomato is a long, thin, plum-shaped variety known for its low acidity and earthy, intense tomato flavor. Except during summer, when fresh tomatoes are at their best, a good canned variety is a better choice. Canned San Marzano tomatoes are one of the few canned products that chefs otherwise fixated on local, fresh produce will use.

Sweet, nutty butternut squash is one of fall’s most delicious vegetables. It is wonderful roasted, in a soup, or as a creamy puree. A touch of brown sugar brings out its natural sweetness. For a great change of pace, try this as a side dish instead of mashed potatoes.

People love okra, or they hate it. Those who hate it think it is slimy. There are a couple of techniques that prevent okra from becoming too slimy. First and foremost, don’t overcook it. When okra is cooked to just tender, it is fresh and crisp, not “ropy.” The other technique is to cook okra with an acid. This recipe uses both tomato and a bit of red wine.

This is another example of simple country cooking that would be equally at home cooked in a cast-iron skillet in the South or simmered in a cocotte on grandmère’s stovetop in France. Cabbage is an inexpensive vegetable, and if stored properly, will keep for weeks in the refrigerator. Once again, bacon drippings was Meme’s fat of choice, but you can substitute butter. Other oils do not give the dish the richness it needs. (Before you make any comments about Meme’s arteries, she lived to be ninety-two!) Try this dish with Meme’s Fried Fatback (page 84) and her Cornmeal Griddle Cakes (page 216). You will be glad you did.

Butter beans are my favorite summer vegetable. Slowly simmered with a bit of fat for flavor, they produce a rich, soothing broth. We would often have them freshly shelled in the summer as part of the large Sunday dinner. Meme would serve a simple slice of white bread or leftover biscuits bathed in the salty broth for a light supper. There is a raging controversy over whether butter beans are the same as lima beans. The University of Georgia Cooperative Extension states that lima beans and butter beans are interchangeable terms, and there is little difference in the varieties. I hate to besmirch the name of my alma mater, and the gardeners may think they have it all sorted out, but you can’t tell me—or many Southern cooks—that flat, tender, petite, green butter beans are the same as the larger, yellow, starchy lima pods. The difference is that some butter bean varieties are grown to harvest when young and immature and some are grown to harvest when older and more mature for drying. More often than not, I enjoy butter beans as pure, simple, and unadulterated by other flavors as possible, using canola oil and possibly finishing with just a pat of butter. If I am feeling particularly racy, I will add several tablespoons or so of freshly chopped herbs such as basil, parsley, or lemon balm.

Edamame is the Japanese word for soybean. Soybeans are somewhat mild in flavor, a cross between a pea and a fava bean. We’re lucky enough to sometimes find them fresh during the summer months, at the farmer’s market or a specialty store, but they are widely available frozen, both in the pod and shelled. Adults and children alike love edamame as a snack. Once the soybeans are cooked or reheated, drain them well, and season with coarse salt or sea salt. Squeeze the seeds directly from the pods into your mouth. Think highbrow boiled peanuts. Edamame may be eaten as a snack or a vegetable, and used in soups or stir-fries. I also like to mash them with potatoes, as in this recipe.

The key to a fluffy mash is to use the right tool: a ricer, a food mill, or an old-fashioned potato masher. A ricer resembles an overgrown garlic press. Cooked vegetables are placed in its hopper and forced through tiny holes with a plunger, producing a texture vaguely like that of rice. A food mill consists of a round metal bowl with a curved blade that turns with a hand crank. Secured to the bottom of the bowl are interchangeable disks with holes from fine to coarse. When you turn the crank, the blade mashes the cooked food through the holes. Both the ricer and the food mill produce exquisite mashes and purees with a smoother texture than the humble old-fashioned potato masher. These simple tools are the precursors to the efficient food processor. However, they do a better job than a processor or electric mixer for any mixture that contains potatoes, as both food processor and mixer produce a gummy mass instead of a silken puree. Meme had a ricer she used for years. Mama and I joke, “The Smithsonian called and wants their exhibit back.” The truth is, sometimes older is better.

Rich, buttery potatoes are the perfect foil for pungent, spicy, freshly grated horseradish, a fiery cousin to kale, cauliflower, and Brussels sprouts. Although bottled horseradish will do in a pinch, there’s nothing like the bite of the freshly grated root. For spectacular results, serve Pepper-crusted Beef with Cognac and Golden Raisins (page 93) or Braised Short Ribs (page 87) on a bed of this.

French-style potato purees are very finely processed, and often incorporate copious amounts of butter, so the resulting puree is silky smooth. In this recipe, the addition of celeriac to the potatoes creates another layer of flavor. Traditionally, in classic French cooking, white sauces use white pepper instead of black, making the finished dish appear more refined. When we were children and would see pepper in a dish we would complain, often without tasting, that it was “too hot.” Sneakily, Mama started using white pepper to pull the wool over our eyes.

This famous New Orleans dish was originally served on Mondays, utilizing the ham bone left over from Sunday supper. Very low maintenance, it simmered on the stove all day while the women washed the family’s laundry and hung it out to dry. Although for the most part, Monday wash day is a thing of the past, red beans and rice is still often served as a lunch or dinner special at many New Orleans restaurants. Dishes of rice and beans are part of rustic country cooking in the Caribbean and all over the world. The inexpensive combination of rice and beans supplies essential amino acids not often found in plant proteins, and more readily found in expensive meat proteins. For the ham bone, traditional recipes now often substitute spicy boudin, smoked sausage, or Cajun andouille. Boudin is a spicy pork sausage with onion, rice, and herbs. Cajun andouille is a highly seasoned smoked sausage made from pork, whereas French andouille is made from the stomach and intestines. The andouille of Guémené, France, is crafted so that the intestines are placed inside one another, giving it the appearance of concentric circles before it is dried and smoked. This is potent stuff. I am always willing to try anything once, including chilled slices of smoked pig’s intestines. Let’s just put it this way, I’d rather have a heaping bowl of Mama’s Red Beans and Rice, and I’m not asking for seconds of French andouille any time soon.

Before I attended culinary school, my attempts at preparing rice were absolutely disastrous. Most often the final results were more like gloppy oatmeal, at best. The pilaf method I learned at L’Academie de Cuisine was my saving grace, which is why I call this recipe $20,000 Rice Pilaf (that was the cost of a year of school at the time).

The name “dirty rice” doesn’t sound very appealing, but it is an enjoyable combination of creamy rice, savory vegetables, full-flavored chicken liver, and a heavy hand of intense spice. It’s an odd conglomeration of a Cajun stir-fry and soft, comforting rice. This is, like many other country recipes, a way to make a filling meal out of a potpourri of simple, inexpensive ingredients. The chopped liver is what gives it the dark, “dirty” color. Dirty rice is like many old-school recipes—everyone has a different way to prepare it. However, most versions contain the holy trinity of Cajun cooking: bell pepper, onion, and celery. I am not so fond of green bell peppers. They come back to say “hello” a little too often. I prefer poblano chiles, which are just slightly spicier than a green bell pepper, and I suggest using it here.