A Love Affair with Southern Cooking (27 page)

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Authors: Jean Anderson,Jean Anderson

BOOK: A Love Affair with Southern Cooking
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3 to 5 tablespoons milk

  • 1.
    For the hash: Melt the butter in a large, heavy skillet over moderate heat and when it froths, add the onion and celery, and stir-fry for 5 to 6 minutes or until limp and golden.
  • 2.
    Blend in the flour, salt, two peppers, and nutmeg, then add the turkey broth gradually, stirring all the while. Continue cooking and stirring for 3 to 5 minutes or until the mixture thickens.
  • 3.
    Mix in the turkey, turn the heat to its lowest point, partially cover the skillet, and allow the hash to mellow while you prepare the griddle cakes.
  • 4.
    For the griddle cakes: Combine the cornmeal, flour, sugar, baking powder, baking soda, salt, and pepper in a large bowl and make a well in the center. Whisk the buttermilk, egg, and oil together in a spouted 1-or 2-quart measure, then pour into the well in the dry ingredients and whisk briskly to form a smooth batter. Add the milk, tablespoon by tablespoon, until the batter is the consistency of a thin white sauce.
  • 5.
    Lightly oil a griddle or large, heavy skillet and set it over moderate heat for 1½ to 2 minutes until the oil almost—but not quite—smokes.
  • 6.
    Using a ¼-cup measure, drop the batter onto the griddle, spacing the cakes about 2 inches apart. Reduce the heat to moderately low and as soon as bubbles appear on the surface of the griddle cakes, turn and brown the flip sides for 1 to 2 minutes. As the griddle cakes brown, transfer to heated dinner plates, allowing 3 to 4 per person.
  • 7.
    Ladle the turkey hash over the griddle cakes and serve.

THE FIRST THANKSGIVING

If you think the first Thanksgiving took place in Massachusetts in 1620, think again.

That distinction belongs to Berkeley Plantation on the James River. Here, on December 4, 1619, Captain John Woodlief, a former Jamestown colonist, came ashore with thirty-seven new English settlers to develop the Berkeley Hundred, an 8,000-acre site named for its sponsor, Sir Richard Berkeley. Asking the settlers to kneel, Woodlief began reading Berkeley’s proclamation:

“Wee ordaine that the day of our ships arrival at the place assigned for plantacon in the land of Virginia shall be yearly and perpetually kept holy as a day of thanksgiving to Almighty God.”

This, insist members of the Virginia First Thanksgiving Festival, Inc., which reenacts the event every November at Berkeley Plantation, was the first Thanksgiving. No Indians and probably no food, although bacon, peas, cornmeal cakes, and cinnamon water have been mentioned.

The irony here is that for 300 years nobody remembered—let alone celebrated—that first Thanksgiving. Then one day in 1931, Berkeley Company documents surfaced in, of all places, the New York Public Library, among them a record of the 1619 ceremony.

In 1958 a group of determined believers formed the Virginia First Thanksgiving Festival, Inc., “to gain appropriate recognition for Virginia’s documented claim to the first official Thanksgiving in America.” And then in 1962 came a
mea culpa
from President John F. Kennedy via his special assistant Arthur M. Schlesinger, Jr.

“You are quite right,” he wrote, corroborating the Virginia Festival’s claim, “and I can only plead an unconquerable New England bias.”

HOT BROWN

MAKES
4
SERVINGS

I’d heard about Louisville’s famous Hot Brown, a broiled open-face turkey sandwich in a bubbling cheese sauce, long before I tasted it. I wasn’t disappointed. Over the years I’ve enjoyed variations on the theme here and there, some of them made with chicken, some accompanied by sautéed mushrooms, but to my mind none matches the original. Here’s the back story: In the roaring ’20s, Louisville’s swanky Brown Hotel threw dinner dances. Hundreds came, danced till the wee hours, then retreated to the hotel dining room to feast on ham and eggs. One night in 1923 chef Fred Schmidt decided to dish up something different: He layered toast and sliced turkey in single-portion gratin pans, covered them with mornay sauce (a white sauce with cheese added), ran them under the broiler, and crowned them with a crisscross of bacon. To Louisvillians that original Hot Brown is the one and only; the hotel still serves it. Although the recipe is simple, it’s more suited to chefs than to home cooks, who rarely have stacks of single-serving gratin pans. I use pie tins for my Hot Browns. They’re functional but lack the glamour of copper gratins. Note:
Whatever you use for this recipe must be flameproof, able to take intense broiler heat; that eliminates glass and ceramic baking dishes that are merely ovenproof.
Caution:
Because the cheese sauce may not reach 160° F., the temperature deemed safe for eggs in this age of salmonella, I use a pasteurized egg and urge you to do the same (see About Pasteurized Eggs, frontmatter).

 

8 slices toast, trimmed of crusts (use firm-textured or home-style bread)

Eight ¼-inch-thick slices cooked turkey (or chicken), cut to fit the toast (I favor breast meat)

4 tablespoons (½ stick) butter

6 tablespoons all-purpose flour

2½ cups milk

1 large pasteurized egg, well beaten (see Caution at left)

1
/
3
cup plus 2 tablespoons freshly grated Parmesan cheese

¼ cup softly whipped cream (optional)

1 teaspoon salt, or to taste

¼ teaspoon black pepper, or to taste

8 slices crisply cooked bacon

  • 1.
    Preheat the broiler. Arrange 2 slices of toast side by side in each of four single-serving metal gratin pans (or four 8-inch metal pie pans attractive enough to appear at the dinner table). Top each piece of toast with a slice of turkey and set aside while you prepare the sauce.
  • 2.
    Melt the butter in a heavy medium-size saucepan over moderate heat, then blend in the flour. Add the milk and cook, whisking constantly, for 3 to 5 minutes or until thickened and smooth.
  • 3.
    Blend a little of the hot sauce into the beaten egg, stir back into the pan, and cook and stir 1 minute more. Under no circumstances allow
    the sauce to boil; it will curdle. Off heat, mix in the
    1
    /
    3
    cup grated Parmesan and when it melts, fold in the whipped cream, if desired. Finally, season to taste with the salt and pepper.
  • 4.
    Ladle the cheese sauce over the sandwiches, dividing the total amount evenly. Sprinkle with the remaining 2 tablespoons grated Parmesan, again dividing evenly.
  • 5.
    Slide the pans into the broiler, setting them 4 to 5 inches from the heat, and broil for 2 to 3 minutes or until bubbly and flecked with brown.
  • 6.
    Crisscross 2 slices of bacon over each portion and serve.

TURKEY PURLOO

MAKES
6
SERVINGS

Purloo
is the Lowcountry word for
pilau
or
pilaf
and since plantation days when rice was king, purloos have been a popular way to recycle leftovers—especially turkey and chicken. Actually, this isn’t a true purloo because the creamed turkey and mushrooms are ladled over cooked rice, not cooked with it. No matter; it’s a popular South Carolina dish.

 

3 tablespoons butter

½ pound small mushrooms, wiped clean and quartered

1 small yellow onion, coarsely chopped

1
/
3
cup roast turkey (or chicken) drippings, bacon drippings, or vegetable oil

7 tablespoons all-purpose flour

2 cups chicken broth or water

3½ cups bite-size chunks cooked turkey (or chicken)

1 teaspoon salt, or to taste

¼ teaspoon black pepper, or to taste

2 tablespoons moderately coarsely chopped parsley

2 cups long-grain rice, cooked by package directions

  • 1.
    Melt the butter in a large, heavy skillet over moderate heat; add the mushrooms and onion and sauté, stirring often, for 5 to 8 minutes or until the mushrooms release their juices and these evaporate. Set off the heat and reserve.
  • 2.
    Blend the drippings and flour in a large, heavy saucepan, set over moderately low heat, and cook, stirring all the while, for 5 to 10 minutes or until a rich rust-brown. Add the broth and cook, whisking constantly, for about 3 minutes or until thickened and smooth.
  • 3.
    Add the reserved mushroom mixture, the turkey, salt, and pepper; adjust the heat so the sauce barely bubbles, and simmer uncovered, stirring now and then, for 15 minutes or until the flavors mellow. Taste for salt and pepper and adjust as needed. Stir in the parsley.
  • 4.
    To serve, bed the hot cooked rice on a heated platter and ladle the turkey mixture on top.

Heirloom Recipe

TO ROAST A ’POSSUM

…first catch the ’possum. Dress it and soak it in salt water for 12 hrs, then wash and parboil it in salt water until tender. Have ready some sliced sweet potatoes which have been boiled until done in clear water. Lay ’possum out flat in roasting pan, put slices of sweet potatoes all around it, add pepper and sufficient stock. Bake in quick oven until a nice brown. Serve on a platter using potatoes and parsley for garnishing.—Mrs. W. T. Tatum, Iredell County, North Carolina

TIME LINE: the people and events that shaped Southern Cuisine

1897

  

Nashville builds an exact replica of the Parthenon for its Tennessee Centennial Exposition, a world’s fair on a grand scale with pavilions from as far afield as Egypt. The Parthenon still stands in this “Athens of the South.”

1898

  

Georgia bubbles up its own Brunswick stew. A plaque on a 25-gallon iron pot just outside Brunswick, Georgia, marks both the spot and the vessel in which it was cooked.

 

  

By changing the name of the fizzy stomach tonic he created in 1893 to Pepsi-Cola, druggist Caleb Bradham fixes Pepsi’s official birth date at 1898 (see box, Chapter 1).

1899

  

Antoine’s owner Jules Alciatore creates an oyster dish so rich he calls it Oysters Rockefeller. The exact recipe is known only to Antoine’s.

 

  

Benjamin Thomas and Joseph Whitehead of Chattanooga, Tennessee, persuade Atlanta Coca-Cola owner Asa Candler to let them bottle his popular new fountain drink.

 

  

Richard L. Lindsey names his Nashville, Tennessee, mill’s finest flour for his three-year-old daughter, Martha White. Southerners who pride themselves on their flaky biscuits and feathery cakes still insist upon soft white flours like Martha White. (See Martha White Flour, Chapter 6.)

BEAUFORT QUAIL JAMBALAYA

MAKES
6
SERVINGS

North and South Carolina both have coastal towns named Beaufort. Tar Heels pronounce it
BEAU-fort
the French way, but in South Carolina it’s
BU-fort
.
For beauty and historical significance, South Carolina’s Beaufort wins hands down. It’s a mini Charleston with street after street of magnificent antebellum homes. Suzanne Williamson, whom
More
dispatched me to profile one Christmas, lives in one of them with her husband, Peter Pollak. No one
loves to entertain more than Suzanne and no one does it with greater style and grace. Her secret? Check out
Entertaining for Dummies,
which she coauthored with Linda Smith. For
More
’s Christmas feature, Suzanne served this quail jambalaya in her candlelit ballroom. Among the guests was novelist Pat Conroy, who came early to kibitz in the kitchen with Suzanne; at the time, she was developing recipes for
The Pat Conroy Cookbook
(2004). Note:
You can substitute three halved Cornish hens for the quail, but they must be small—no more than a pound and a half apiece.

 

3 tablespoons olive oil

Twelve 4-ounce quail, cleaned, dressed, and split lengthwise (see Note above)

¼ teaspoon salt

¼ teaspoon ground hot red pepper (cayenne)

2 medium yellow onions, moderately finely chopped

1 large red bell pepper, cored, seeded, and moderately finely chopped

1 large green bell pepper, cored, seeded, and moderately finely chopped

4 large garlic cloves, minced

3 cups boiling chicken broth

1½ cups converted rice

2 large whole bay leaves

1 pound fully cooked chorizo or Spanish-style sausage, thinly sliced

¾ cup canned plum tomatoes, drained and finely chopped

  • 1.
    Preheat the oven to 375° F. Lightly coat a large, shallow roasting pan (preferably one attractive enough to appear at the dining table) with nonstick cooking spray and set aside.
  • 2.
    Heat half the olive oil in a large, heavy skillet over moderately high heat, add half the quail, and brown 2 minutes on each side; transfer to the roasting pan. Brown the remaining quail in the remaining oil the same way and add to the pan. Sprinkle the birds with the salt and cayenne pepper and roast uncovered on the middle oven shelf for 15 minutes.
  • 3.
    Meanwhile, sauté the onions, red and green bell peppers, and garlic in the skillet drippings, stirring often, for about 5 minutes or until limp. Add 1 cup of the hot broth and cook 1 to 2 minutes, scraping up any browned bits on the skillet bottom.
  • 4.
    Remove the birds from the oven, transfer to a large tray, and set aside. Pour the skillet mixture into the roasting pan, add the rice and remaining hot broth, and tuck in the bay leaves.
  • 5.
    Cover snugly with foil, slide onto the middle oven rack, and bake for 15 minutes or until the rice is al dente. Remove the foil cover, discard the bay leaves, and stir well.
  • 6.
    Fold the chorizo and tomatoes into the rice mixture, then arrange the quail on top, skin sides up. Cover with the foil and bake for 15 minutes or until the rice is tender and the quail are done.
  • 7.
    Serve at table right from the roasting pan. Or, if you prefer, divide the jambalaya among six heated dinner plates.

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