Read A Love Affair with Southern Cooking Online
Authors: Jean Anderson,Jean Anderson
1 cup mayonnaise (use “light,” if you like)
2½ tablespoons cider or white wine vinegar (purists insist upon distilled white vinegar but I find that too harsh)
1 tablespoon water (more if you prefer a thinner sauce)
1 medium garlic clove, finely minced
2 teaspoons Creole or Dijon mustard
2 teaspoons prepared horseradish
1 teaspoon coarsely ground black pepper, or to taste
1 teaspoon sugar
½ teaspoon salt, or to taste
TIME LINE: the people and events that shaped Southern Cuisine
1704 | | With dowries from Louis XIV, 25 beautiful young French women sail into Mobile Bay. Hand-picked to marry marines at the French Royal Colony at Fort Louis de la Mobile, they give birth to the first generation of Alabama “first families,” who later gain fame for the tables they set. |
1705 | | Robert Beverley’s |
1708 | | The first African slaves arrive in Louisiana. |
1710 | | Rations grow so scarce in the Louisiana colony that to obtain food, the men are permitted to live among the local tribes. It’s a move that will impact Louisiana cuisine. |
1711 | | America’s first carnival (Mardi Gras) takes place in Mobile, Alabama. |
1712 | | The huge Carolina colony is split and soon the simple suppers of North Carolina’s hard-scrabble farmers contrast sharply with the feasts of South Carolina’s planter aristocracy. |
1714 | | The French settle at Natchitoches; it is Louisiana’s first permanent settlement west of the Mississippi. |
MARYLAND HOT CRAB DIP
MAKES ABOUT
4
CUPS
One of the joys of traveling Maryland’s Eastern Shore is the chance to feast on blue crabs right out of the Chesapeake—and not only on whole steamed crab but also on freshly picked crabmeat prepared a hundred ways. Many Eastern Shore inns offer hot crab dip as an appetizer, some of them classic, others contemporary. This one, developed by the Maryland Department of Agriculture’s Seafood Marketing Pro-gram, is fairly traditional. I picked it up while exploring crab country and have tweaked it to add my own touch. Note:
Though crackers are usually served with hot crab dip, I prefer raw, bite-size florets of broccoli or cauliflower, even crisp spears of Belgian endive.
Tip:
Given the stratospheric cost of lump crabmeat these days, I use “special”—less expensive flakes of body meat. Cheaper still is the brownish “claw meat.” Either is a good choice for this dip because the crab will only be blended with the other ingredients.
One 8-ounce package light cream cheese (Neufchâtel), at room temperature
½ cup firmly packed sour cream (use “light,” if you like)
2 tablespoons mayonnaise-relish sandwich spread
1 tablespoon finely minced scallion
1 tablespoon fresh lemon juice
1 teaspoon Dijon mustard
1 teaspoon Worcestershire sauce
¼ teaspoon hot red pepper sauce
¼ teaspoon crushed garlic
¼ cup coarsely grated sharp Cheddar cheese
1 tablespoon milk (about)
8 ounces cooked crabmeat, picked over for bits of shell and cartilage (see Tip at left)
Only a Southerner knows that asking for “sweet milk” means you don’t want buttermilk.
—
ANONYMOUS
ARTICHOKE DIP
MAKES ABOUT
3
CUPS
A riffle through any southern cookbook—especially a club or community fund-raiser—will turn up scores of artichoke recipes. Not Jerusalem artichokes, although these are plenty popular, but French globe artichokes. Did this passion for them begin in New Orleans and spread outward? Or did the aristocratic youths sent abroad to study before the Civil War come home with an appetite for artichokes? While in France, Italy, and elsewhere they would have encountered them prepared a dozen different ways. We do know that Thomas Jefferson grew artichokes at Monticello, even rare red globe artichokes. Whatever the reason, artichokes are a southern staple and this dip—superb with chips, crackers, or crudités—is a cocktail perennial. Note:
To pack sour cream or mayonnaise into a measure, scoop up by tablespoonfuls, packing each into one of the nested cups designed for dry ingredients, and level off with the broad side of a thin-blade spatula.
Two 10-ounce jars marinated artichoke hearts, drained as dry as possible
4 medium scallions, trimmed and cut into 1-inch chunks (white part only)
1 small whole garlic clove
1 cup firmly packed sour cream (use “light,” if you like) (see Note above)
½ cup firmly packed mayonnaise (use “light,” if you like)
½ teaspoon salt (about)
½ teaspoon hot red pepper sauce (about)
Martha fixed lunch for Zelma and me that day…. She made us biscuits and fried white bacon, and served her best preserves. She had baked sweet potatoes still hot in the wood range and when we left she gave us a paper sack of them to carry with us.
—
MARJORIE KINNAN RAWLINGS
,
CROSS CREEK
TO MAKE SASSAFRAS TEA
Wash the roots, cut in 2-to 3-inch pieces, place in a deep pan, cover with cold water, and boil for about 12 to 15 minutes. Drain and serve hot. Add lemon or sugar, if desired.
“The tea is a delicate pink and is delicious as a cold beverage.”
—Mrs. I. K. Day, Iredell County, North Carolina
DEVILED VIDALIA DIP
MAKES ABOUT
2½
CUPS
I’m so fond of Georgia’s sweet Vidalia onions that I decided to make a dip of them. On the first try I caramelized two pounds of Vidalias and even with my insatiable sweet tooth, found the dip more dessert than appetizer. By substituting sharper yellow onions for half the Vidalias, I came up with a dip that reminds me of the
agrodolce
(sweet-sour) onions I’ve enjoyed in Italy. I also think that using a dozen scallions (white part only) in place of one of the yellow onions would be equally delicious. I like this dip best with melba rounds, salty crackers, and peppery radishes, although it’s good, too, with raw cauliflower or broccoli florets. Note:
When I call for something to be “firmly packed,” spoon it into a dry cup measure, packing as you go, then level off the top with the broad side of a small thin-blade spatula.
3 tablespoons butter
1 very large Vidalia onion (about 1 pound), coarsely chopped
2 medium yellow onions (about 1 pound), coarsely chopped (see headnote)
1 tablespoon cider vinegar or balsamic vinegar
1 cup firmly packed sour cream (use “light,” if you like)
¼ cup firmly packed Dijon mustard
½ teaspoon salt, or to taste
½ teaspoon black pepper, or to taste
½ teaspoon hot red pepper sauce, or to taste
PEPPERED PECANS
MAKES ABOUT
3
CUPS
These party-perfect pecans (or one of their countless variations) have long been popular down south. Some hostesses make double or triple batches and store the nuts in airtight containers as insurance against drop-in guests. Note:
The nuts you use should be absolutely fresh (see Sources, backmatter) because no amount of seasoning can mask the rankness of rancid nuts.
Tip:
Here’s a dish-and time-saver: Place the butter and garlic in a two-quart ovenproof glass measuring cup and microwave for about three minutes on
LOW
or until the butter melts. Let stand in
the microwave for 5 minutes. Fish out the garlic, whisk in the Worcestershire and hot pepper sauces, add the pecans, and stir until nicely coated. How hard is that?
3 tablespoons butter (see Tip at left)
2 large garlic cloves, slivered lengthwise
2 teaspoons Worcestershire sauce
1½ to 2½ teaspoons hot red pepper sauce (depending on how “hot” you like things)
3 cups pecan halves (see Note at left)
½ teaspoon salt
PLANTERS PEANUTS
Two Italian immigrants took one of the South’s classic foods and turned it into a business with a dapper logo known around the world.
Everyone knows Mr. Peanut, but few know the story of Amedeo Obici and Mario Peruzzi, the men who built Planters Peanuts. Obici came to America around 1887; only eleven and speaking no English, he arrived with the address of his Pennsylvania uncle pinned to his lapel.
Within nine years, Obici had built his own peanut roaster and started a street vendor business in Wilkes-Barre; by 1906, he had founded Planters with fellow Italian immigrant Peruzzi.
Obici hit upon a process for roasting peanuts in oil, then blanching them to eliminate the hulls and shells. At a time when such things were typically sold in bulk in country stores, Obici packaged his roasted peanuts in small bags bearing the company logo.
Now owned by Kraft Foods, Planters took off after the introduction of the debonair Mr. Peanut in 1916—the inspiration of a fourteen-year-old Virginia boy who’d entered the company’s trademark contest. By then, Planters had relocated to Suffolk, Virginia, to be nearer its peanut suppliers and to eliminate costly middlemen. Obici and his wife bought a 260-acre Virginia estate and built an Italian villa there; Peruzzi married Obici’s sister.
The sporty Mr. Peanut was everywhere, from the bright lights of Broadway to the pages of
The Saturday Evening Post.
In 1997, he made his debut in the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade, and today he travels in style in the yellow Planters Nut Mobile.