Read A Love Affair with Southern Cooking Online
Authors: Jean Anderson,Jean Anderson
TIME LINE: the people and events that shaped Southern Cuisine
1964 | | After selling fried chicken franchises to more than 600 North American restaurants, Harland Sanders sells his company to a group of investors, among them future Kentucky governor John Y. Brown, Jr. Now $2 million richer, Sanders remains KFC spokesman. |
| | The chicken breast sandwich—fried breast fillets on buttered buns—is invented at Truett Cathy’s Dwarf Café in South Atlanta. The sandwich is an instant hit and becomes the specialty of Cathy’s soon-to-open Chick-fil-A restaurant. Before long, Chick-fil-As proliferate throughout the South. |
| | Holly Farms of North Wilkesboro, North Carolina, introduces Holly-Pak poultry: chicken parts sealed in chilled, quality-controlled packages. |
| | Pepsi-Cola launches Diet Pepsi and quickly grabs market share from TaB. |
1965 | | Sema Wilkes and her husband buy the old Savannah boardinghouse where she’d cooked for 22 years, renovate, and reopen as Mrs. Wilkes’ Boarding House restaurant. Now a Savannah landmark, the dining room still packs them in for breakfast and lunch. |
BANANA PUDDING
MAKES
8
SERVINGS
Country restaurants proliferate all over the South and despite their sometimes cutesy names (Ye Olde Country Kitchen, Grannie’s Pantry), most serve the good down-home cooking today’s mothers and grandmothers knew as children. Many of these restaurants serve salad-bar style so that you can heap your plate, choosing from a dozen or more “mains and sides,” then go back for dessert. Front and center here—nearly always—is a big pan of banana pudding. Some restaurants now cut corners by using vanilla pudding mixes and commercial whipped toppings. Others still make banana pudding the old-fashioned way. This is a good from-scratch recipe.
¾ cup sugar
1
/
3
cup unsifted all-purpose flour
¼ teaspoon salt
4 cups (1 quart) milk
1 cup half-and-half
3 large eggs, lightly beaten
1½ teaspoons vanilla extract
75 vanilla wafers (about ¾ of a 12-ounce box)
6 medium firm-ripe bananas (about 2¼ pounds)
1 cup heavy cream, whipped to soft peaks with 2 tablespoons confectioners’ (10 X) sugar and ½ teaspoon vanilla extract
Everybody knew something was bad wrong with Gaten…Wouldn’t even eat a spoonful of Everleen’s banana pudding. I could have eaten the whole thing by myself…They said Gaten was in L.O.V.E.
—
DORI SANDERS
,
CLOVER
MY DOUGHNUT STAND
The summer all the neighborhood kids had lemonade stands, I decided to sell doughnuts, mostly because I loved to watch them pop up in the deep fat and flip themselves over. I marvel now that my mother would let a ten-year-old work with 375-degree deep fat—especially since I had to stand on a step stool to see into the pot. But let me she did. My doughnuts were dreadful—leaden and greasy right out of the fryer. Eaten cold, they were a major Maalox moment. Still, deliverymen always stopped to buy a few. I made no money on the doughnut stand; in fact it bankrupted me. But the experience taught me how to plan and budget.
AMBROSIA
MAKES
4
TO
6
SERVINGS
Somewhere down the line Southerners lost their way when it came to making ambrosia. They filled it with canned crushed pineapple and, worse still, with mini marshmallows and maraschino cherries. In its purest form, ambrosia is nothing more than alternate layers of sliced oranges and freshly grated coconut. No empty calories here. In
Mrs. Hill’s Southern Practical Cookery and Receipt Book
(1872), however, Annabella P. Hill includes a somewhat more elaborate version. To quote: “Ambrosia is made by placing upon a glass stand…alternate layers of grated cocoanut, oranges, peeled and sliced round, and a pineapple sliced thin. Begin with the oranges, and use cocoanut last, spreading between each layer sifted loaf sugar. Sweeten the cocoanut milk, and pour over.” Here’s the recipe I like best. Note:
To make pineapple fans, slice the peeled and cored fruit into thin rings, then cut each into wedges measuring about 1
½
inches across at the widest point.
4 medium navel oranges, peeled, halved lengthwise, and each half cut crosswise into thin slices
1¼ cups unsweetened grated coconut (preferably freshly grated)
2 cups freshly cut pineapple fans (optional; see Note above)
½ cup superfine sugar
1
/
3
cup fresh orange juice
3 large mint sprigs (garnish)
Heirloom Recipe
MRS. JULIA RENO PHILLIPS’S RECIPE FOR EGG CUSTARD
Over the years as I’ve traveled about the South, I’ve haunted tag sales, antiques shops, and bookstores, keeping an eye out for community cookbooks (there are now more than a thousand of them in my library). I’m partial to the typed, mimeographed collections because they’re intensely local and less likely to recycle the big food company recipes that proliferate in slicker volumes. There’s no putting on airs in these little pamphlets and often the quaint language of ages past surfaces as a sort of culinary time capsule. This old recipe (from
Heritage Recipes
, printed in 1971 by the Haywood County Extension Homemakers in the Great Smokies) shows what I mean.
First an incentive: When Dr. Herbert Mease rode by in his covered buggy and hollered, “Julia, can you have a custard by the time I come back?”
Then to the barn and gathered six fresh eggs, then to the spring house for some good rich milk (2 cups). Beat the eggs well (no, not with an electric beater…she had none), but with a fork, but well; then add about four tablespoons sugar, not too much sugar, they will be watery; then grate some nutmeg generously. Have a tin pan ready and place a good short crust; bake in oven (no thermometer), use your better judgment; now with the electric ovens, I would say 350 degrees, until done.
—Mrs. Edith Phillips Russell, Beaverdam Club
AUNT EMMA’S BOURBON CUSTARD
MAKES
8
TO
10
SERVINGS
I love Tidewater Virginia, particularly that woodsy stretch undulating along the north bank of the James River (Route 5) between Richmond and Williamsburg. There are half a dozen imposing plantations here in FFV (First Family of Virginia) country, one of which (Berkeley, built in 1726) was the birthplace of one American president (William Henry Harrison) and the ancestral home of a second (Ohio-born Benjamin Harrison). Here, too, is Sherwood Forest, the home of President John Tyler. When I was a food editor at
The Ladies’ Home Journal,
I covered Tyler’s granddaughter’s debut. Two decades later, I returned to Sherwood Forest to interview Payne Tyler, the wife of Tyler grandson Harrison Ruffin Tyler, for a
Bon Appétit
article on James River plantation recipes. This unusual bourbon custard appeared in that article. The recipe, Payne told me, is one from her South Carolina family; she grew up at Mulberry Hill Plantation in Edgefield County near Aiken. The recipe was her Aunt Emma’s. It seems that Aunt Emma’s mother-in-law, Effie, could only make one thing: angel food cake, which called for a dozen egg whites. According to Payne, Aunt Emma thought that there must be a way to use up the twelve egg yolks, so she created this bourbon custard. “It’s just like eating silk,” Payne says.
4 cups (1 quart) heavy cream
1 cup sugar
12 jumbo egg yolks, lightly beaten
½ cup fine bourbon
I know folks all have a tizzy about it, but I like a little bourbon of an evening. It helps me sleep.
—
LILLIAN CARTER
Heirloom Recipe
BONNEY-CLABBER OR LOPPERED MILK
I reprint here an old dessert just as it appears in
From North Carolina Kitchens: Favorite Recipes Old and New
, an uncopyrighted collection of recipes from the state’s Home Demonstration Club women published in the 1950s.
Set a china, or glass dish of skimmed milk away in a warm place, covered. When it turns—i.e. becomes a smooth, firm, but not tough cake, like blanc-mange—serve in the same dish. Cut out carefully with a large spoon, and put in saucers, with cream, powdered sugar, and nutmeg to taste. It is better, if set on the ice for an hour before it is brought to table. Do not let it stand until the whey separates from the curd.
Few people know how delicious this healthful and cheap dessert can be if eaten before it becomes tart and tough; with a liberal allowance of cream and sugar. There are not many jellies and creams superior to it.
—Pasquotank County, North Carolina
Only a Southerner knows that “gimme some sugar” doesn’t mean “pass the sugar bowl.”
—
ANONYMOUS
PORT WINE JELLY
MAKES
4
TO
6
SERVINGS
This is such an old-fashioned recipe that few people bother to make it any more. And that’s a shame because it’s both simple and sophisticated. I first tasted wine jelly one Sunday lunch when I was no more than ten. It had been made by the wife of one of my father’s Botany Department colleagues at North Carolina State College and it came to table in stemmed goblets snow-capped with whipped cream. Thinking that this was some new flavor of Jell-O, I dove in; then I made a face, put down my spoon, and refused to eat any more. My moratorium lasted until I’d acquired a taste for fine wine. I don’t know where wine jellies originated—England, I suspect. But I do know that from Colonial days (when gelatin had to be made at home by boiling calves’ feet) right up through the mid twentieth century, wine jellies were often served at the end of elegant southern dinners. Note:
Other wines can be substituted for port: a malmsey (sweet Madeira), for example, an amontillado (sherry), even a Marsala.
2 envelopes unflavored gelatin
2 cups water
½ cup sugar
½ cinnamon stick
One 3-inch strip orange zest
One 2-inch strip lemon zest
2 cups fine fruity port such as a ruby or late-bottled vintage (see Note above)
1 cup heavy cream, whipped to soft peaks with 2 tablespoons confectioners’ (10X) sugar