Potlikkery

come to cauliflower or, praise be to Whitney Miller!

Relying on stereotypes when thinking about a cuisine or foodway is too easy, believe me, I know. My first instinct with a vegetable is to batter it or bread it and fry it in a pan because that's how I learned to cook; it's what I observed from watching my mother and her mother and my father's mother (the one who worked as a beloved high school cafeteria lady for a few decades when they still cooked the food fresh, on-site. When I told the head of graduate studies that I wanted to write a history of cafeteria ladies he was unenthusiastic, to say the least, so I took nine more hours and wrote no thesis) as they cooked.

Oh wait, my mother's father was a cook in the Navy circa late 1940s-1950 so he taught me a few tricks, too.

To make a long story longer... Other than frying a vegetable my next "go to" is boring old boiling with a smidge of flavoring. That is until I learned to steam. Love that.

But this is about how Whitney Miller's cookbook Modern Hospitality: Simple Recipes with Southen Charm, taught me to think about vegetables in a new way. One of the first things out of my mouth when I talked to her was an apology for never catching her prowess on the first season of MasterChef on FOX which she won. I explained that with an almost-three-year-old daughter, we don't watch any "real" television. And then I asked her which dish in her shabby chic-styled (lovely photography and styling, too, by the way) cookbook she recommended for children.

The cauliflower casserole. First you roast the cauliflower. It was after that point that I had my roasting epiphany.

The Come to Cauliflower moment. Or Come to Roasting. Roasting is wonderful. Simple. So leave it and it's done. I love it. But you drizzle it with a bit of olive oil, too. So it doesn't burn.

But once I roasted the cauliflower and removed them from my oven I couldn't keep my hands off them, they were manna from Heaven. I didn't want to finish the recipe. I did.

It was gobbilicious good. I was home alone and I ate two or three servings straight out of the serving dish. That was no biggie. It's likely that it wouldn't have tempted either Ian or Elsa.

Besides the cauliflower recipe Modern Hospitality features some of the best mashups of southern dishes that I've seen. They're not the same old recycled recipes that appear in every southern cookbook published each quarter. You know what I mean. If you're as familiar with the southern cookbook genre as I am there's a new southern cookbook Bible out every few months that contains the "standards": grits, red velvet cake, cole slaw, fried chicken. Make your own list. Even if you weren't born in the south or even in a border state I bet you could compile a dang good table of contents.

For example, the Butter Bean Hummus isn't something found in every southern cookbook, neither is Cornbread Crostini. I loved the idea of her Bacon-Wrapped Brussels sprouts, but didn't get around to trying those quick enough. When I got to entrees I was disappointed not to find any game meat recipes, especially since her father is a hunter. He brought home deer, doves, and rabbits. And the deer was made all sorts of ways, the doves simply stuffed with bacon. But those recipes... maybe they aren't for company.

When you think about hospitality, which is the theme of Miller's book, one pulls out the floral tablecloths, dainty china, and heirloom flatware. And so most of the entrees correspond: mini meat loaves, Grandma's Sunday roast, Inside-out chicken pot pies. 

As for desserts, Miller pushes all my buttons by including two of my all time favorites: bread pudding and rice pudding. Her renditions are White Chocolate Bread Pudding and Vanilla Rice Pudding. She rounds out the cookbook with drinks, rubs, dressings, a pimento cheese recipe, and a few other tidbits.

So one of the things Miller and I discussed was the effect of Katrina on her family and community. She's a native of Poplarville, Mississippi which lies about 75 miles northeast of New Orleans. I love New Orleans. If I could move anywhere the city is in my top three, easy, for a number of reasons. I love the people: their diversity, their resilience, and their joie de vivre, and I love the food, the culture, and the architecture. I don't love the heat, humidity, or stench, but perhaps I could learn to live with those things. 

Poplarville had no water. No electricity. The Millers' neighbors had nothing. Nobody had stocked up or prepared for the worst, except for her parents. And so their home became a refuge,a center of hospitality, a center of hope and comfort during Katrina's aftermath because her parents made sure that every person in need had food and water. What a blessing it is to serve others during a fearful, frustrating, and hopeless time, especially when you have the resources to share. 

 

Cauliflower Mac n Cheese

• 8 cups cauliflower florets (about 1 head) 
• 2 tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil 
• 1⁄2 teaspoon kosher salt 
• 1⁄2 teaspoon ground black pepper 
• 2 tablespoons unsalted butter 
• 2 tablespoons all-purpose flour 
• 1 1⁄2 cups fat-free milk 
• 1⁄2 cup heavy cream 
• 3⁄8 teaspoon table salt 
• 1 cup grated sharp Cheddar cheese (4 ounces)

Preheat the oven to 400°F. Toss the cauliflower florets in the oil on a baking sheet. Sprinkle with the kosher salt and 1⁄4 teaspoon of the pepper. Roast until fork-tender and lightly browned in spots, 25 to 30 minutes. Remove from the oven but leave the oven on and reduce the temperature to 350°F. Meanwhile, melt the butter in a medium skillet over medium heat. Stir in the flour and cook for 1 minute. Gradually whisk in the milk. Simmer over medium heat, stirring frequently, until thickened, 2 to 4 minutes. Whisk in the cream and cook for 5 minutes. Reduce the heat to low and stir in all but 2 tablespoons of the cheese, the table salt, and the remaining 1⁄4 teaspoon pepper. Stir until the cheese melts, then cook, stirring often, until thickened, 8 to 10 minutes. Place the cauliflower florets in an 8 x 8-inch glass baking dish or four 10-ounce ramekins. Pour the cheese sauce on top. Sprinkle the top of the cauliflower with the remaining 2 tablespoons cheese. Bake until the cheese is bubbling, 20 to 25 minutes. Serve warm. Serves 4

Credit info: Modern Hospitality credit: Reprinted from Modern Hospitality by Whitney Miller. Copyright (c) 2011 by Whitney Miller. By permission of Rodale, Inc.

world in a skillet, get some!

Southern food has always been a blend of several traditions. Any student of our cuisine can list them on her fingers: English, African, and Native American. Those are the traditional flavors that made up southern foodways at the founding of America, but what can you say about southern food today? First, it is dynamic because the south is home to such a variety of people. We have immigrants from around the globe. 

That's what The World in a Skillet: A Food Lover's Tour of the New American South covers. Paul and Angela Knipple live in Memphis--home to some of the best BBQ and other foods you might ever eat--and this is an excellent base from which to explore the diversity that is southern food. In their explorations, they discuss how immigrants' interpretations of southern food and perhaps even the fusion of their traditional cuisine with southern traditional fare has melded into a completely new style of food, thus enriching the southern palate and exploding our tastebuds for the greater good.

We are all immigrants here, after all. 

Page eight features potlikker, the former name of this blog. If you don't know its definition potlikker is the juice remaining after cooking down greens. Those juices play a huge part in southern cuisine for it forms the basis of every other dish on the table. 

Besides the book containing the requisite recipes it contains profiles of those involved in the trade. Folks like Jim Romero who owns Jim's Kountry Pies in Coteau,  Louisiana and Pepe and Jonathan Magallanes of Germantown, Tennessee. The folks, and their food, represent a mix of established and new, which also reflects the south's true character as a vibrant growing region in the midst of change, not one of backward stagnation as it is typically depicted by the media and in jokes.

What might also fascinate you is that the largest population of Kurds in the United States live in Nashville, Tennessee. One section of Nashville is called Little Kurdistan. Another thing the book reveals, which I learned in June when I spent a week in New Orleans, is that one of the largest Vietnamese communities lives there. They bake most of the French bread for the city. Why, you might ask? Because their country was colonized by the French and they learned that skill and brought it with them when they came to America. Many of them work as fisherfolk as well and were devastated when Katrina hit. I learned that, and much more on a culinary tour of the French Quarter  two friends and I took.

The book is laden with recipes from every corner of the globe and President Obama's own PO Casserole concludes the book. It's not one that he made or one from his family, but one created in his honor by CHef MaMusu in celebration of his inauguration. This is an excellent book to add to your collection for its breadth of recipes. Black and white photographs of individuals are included as well as a bibliography of selected readings.

the book of marmalade

Breakfast has long been my favorite meal. It is one that is difficult to mess up. So it is a safe, and thus, a favorite meal to eat out. And so you might figure marmalade is only for breakfast. Think again. The Book of Marmalade by noted food historian C. Anne Wilson tells you different. This revised edition lets readers know that marmalade is lovely spread atop a bit of duck for dinner. 

Readers are treated to a historical tour de force through Greece and Rome which identifies the origins of early marmalade or melimela from which the Portuguese got their word for quince, marmelo. And you can see the progression here, no? The British relied on the Portuguese for marmalade until they began manufacturing it themselves in 

Marmalade was served at banquets and was used medicinally as a digestive aid in England in the 16th century. In fact, Mary Queen of Scots took medicinal marmalade for sea-sickness while crossing from Calais to Scotland in 1561. It was also used as an aphrodisiac. 

Wilson writes about Janet Keiller's initiative in chipping orange peels and selling orange marmalade in Dundee, Scotland after she received a large shipment of oranges; her husband was a grocer. She was so successful that her husband established James Keiller and Son in 1797 which still manufactures marmalade today, thus linking Scotland and marmalade manufacturing ever after. I didn't recognize the name, but I recognized the jar--this marmalade I have bought and eaten myself!

Beginning in 1960 the consumption of marmalade declined, mostly because of changing food habits. Most people grabbed a quick breakfast as they dashed out the door. The traditional full-course breakfast was a thing of the past; just no time for slathering marmalade on a bit of toast or English muffin. And of course, given it's high sugar content many folks prefer a healthy alternative such as yogurt or a granola bar.

Toward the end Wilson includes a variety of recipes. Historic recipes are made of quince and other fruits and the year of their origin is easily referenced. The recipes for today include beaten lemon marmalade, old southern lemon jelly, redcar jelly, and others. Subsequent sections on meat cookery include marmalades as relishes and sauces. Plus, there are puddings, crumbles, and cakes.

Undoubtedly, this marvel of a book answers all the questions you have ever asked about marmalade.

Do note that National Marmalade Day is 10 March. Celebrate by opening a jar of your favorite marmalade, spreading your toast liberally, and enjoying a traditional food whose origins extend back centuries.

plum gorgeous (+giveaway)

Plum Gorgeous is eponymous, really. Glorious photos by Sara Remington and all the food is styled by the author, Romney Steele. Seriously, I want to lick every page. Since they aren't glossy this is a bad, bad idea. Don't do it. Anyway, Romney writes that the book was inspired by time she spent at her friend Kate's orchard.

Incidentally, Kaffe Fassett is her uncle. If you don't knit or quilt, that won't mean much to you, but if you do, then you'll understand where her love of color and knack for capturing it as she styles these photos stems from.

So while all the recipes are fruity indeed, don't think that they're all necessarily jams, marmalade, or desserts. For instance, Romney flavors entrees like grilled sardines with a touch of preserved lemon gremolata. These are the times when I yearn to live near a coast, when I wish for fresh sardines. Canned are okay, but fresh? Oh, what a joy they would be. So, other than the geographic difficulty of procuring fresh sardines, in this one instance, most of the ingredients in Romeny's Plum Gorgeous are accessible for anyone, as are the techniques for making her recipes.

Naturally, fresh fruits are seasonal and Romney promotes following nature's cues regarding the pleasures and joys of eating what is ripe and what is available locally. Her approach to spending time in the kitchen marries magic with romance and she hopes that readers will use her recipes as a base from which to start and will tweak according to their own tastes and temperaments.

This is a deliciously sensual book, as much about living as it as about food.The photographs evoke a warm, abundant, and sunny mecca. Califronia dreaming... Flipping through its pages is reminiscent of childhood and looking at a thick toy catalog. I'm ready to pack it up and go west.

If you'd like a copy of this heavenly book, leave a comment and (depending on whether there are any) I'll pick a winner within a week. 

stuff parisians like + book giveaway

Olivier Mangy is a French sommelier who I don't know from Adam. But that's just because I know hooey about wine, though I love all things French. His book Stuff Parisians Like arrived in my mailbox and I wasn't sure what to think of it, so I thumbed through looking for food content.

Le Caramel au Buerre Sale was the first I came to given the book's arbitrary arrangement which makes it easier for we Americans to understand, oui? This chapter explains the French relationship with sugar. Sugar is decadent and should be consumed in moderation. Yet, surely you've seen the reports that the French are suddenly porking up, non? Somehow, adding salt to caramel balances the sweetness and makes it okay to eat.

Mostly, it seems, the book is about vocabulary, and teaches Americans how to speak French properly, and acts as a primer for those embarking on a visit to France. Absorbing the knowledge shared within Stuff Parisians Like may save the ugly American tourist some small ounce of grief. Which brings us to the chapter "Considering Americans Stupid," in which the author says that we are fat, ugly, and stupid.

Is this tongue in cheek? He writes this despite admitting that Americans are highly successful and creative. Americans are fake, empty, and superficial. Americans lack culture, only watch television...wait, that sounds like a lot of people I do know.

But then the French like cherry tomatoes? Ugh. Because you don't have to slice them. Those lazy French. Cherry tomatoes, nexy entry after "Considering Americans Stupid," oh that makes sense, because I loathe tasteless cherry tomatoes. They makes salads boring. They lack originality. Take that, Frenchie!

Big is vulgar, and if anything, Americans are big and bold in everything that we do, and that, in a nutshell, is what Parisians hate most of all about Americans (learned from the chapter "The Word Petit"). Yet, when asked where else in the world they wish to live, they all answer "New York." Le sigh. And once they became New Yorkers, or NY wannabees, somehow the burger was king and finding one for less and 13 euros, or about $16 is difficult. Magny writes that the gastro restaurants offer one with foie gras topping it.

Poor Paula Deen. I wonder if she gets any play in Paris, because apparently butter is passe and olive oil is au courant. Magny declares butter gross and fattening because the switch to live oil is more aligned to the Parisian vision of the world. But we all know that butter makes everything better. Perhaps I do not like the Parisians so much, but only like the French a little bit.

Somehow they barbecue. Somehow I sense my concept of barbecue differs from the Parisian concept. Ah, theirs means "sunshine, outdoors, and a cute garden." Mine means "pork, beans, and coleslaw." They drink rose. I usually drink unsweet tea. They grill steaks and eat fresh vegetables. Depending on what's on, we unpack the take out from its bag, or remove the whole pig off its spit and start carving.

Another Parisian obsession, Magny reports is the moelleux au chocolat. It's a chocolate based dessert that also contains... guess what? Butter. Funny how we return to butter. He describes it as

It is an orgasm crowning Parisian dinners.

They add vanilla ice cream to the top, but usually ask for two spoons to assuage the guilt that wracks their tiny, dieting frames. Male and female Parisians always diet.

A little tip about macarons, don't buy them anywhere other than Laduree, otherwise you'll break all the Parisian social codes and you'll make the wrong social statement. But hey, if you're an American, no matter, you're not fooling anyone anyway!

At the very end Magny plugs his bar O Chateau in the chapter "Not Drinking Wine" because the tourists are the only ones drinking wine. Domestic wine consumption plummeted. He blames it on Parisian women who are watching their weight. Water, beer, and cocktails, often accompany meals. Actually, most Parisians prefer beer. And partiers prefer vodka, gin, and whiskey to fermented grapes.

In the end, it's educational, to say the least. If you want a copy, leave a comment and I'll select a winner by 24 August. Parisians will think you're one of their own one your next visit to The City of Light.