I LOVE FOOD AND I LOVE BOURBON. My first exposure to fine cuisine and bourbon occurred when I was a student at the McDonogh 15 elementary school. There, as I began learning the three Rs, I also began studying food and gastronomy. Although I didn’t know it at the time, it was one of the best places in the world for such study—the French Quarter in New Orleans. My father and mother moved to “the Big Easy” so my father could become pastor of the Eastminster Presbyterian Church in New Orleans East. Every day my parents would drive me across town to my school in the French Quarter. On the way I took in the culture and the smells of New Orleans. Some mornings we would stop at Café du Monde, across from Jackson Square, for beignets and café au lait (I always had chocolate milk) before we reached my school, which was on St. Phillips Street between Royal and Bourbon. I was not the only student who attended class with confectioners’ sugar on his shirt.
McDonogh 15 was a progressive school, where the teachers believed students would learn as much from their environment as they did in the classroom. So a lot of “class” time was spent touring the French Quarter. My senses were tantalized, and the aromas, the sights, and the flavors I experienced on these field trips influence me to this day. New Orleans is where I developed my love for the tangible pleasures of life. When my parents would pick me up in the afternoon, we might stop on St. Ann’s Street for red beans and rice at Buster Holmes, or get a po’ boy at one of the many shops that sold seafood subway-style sandwiches with crusty French bread, or visit the Central Grocery for a muffuletta. I also became aware of the fine cuisine of New Orleans: the food served at the Empire restaurant owned by the Brennan family, at K-Paul’s, at LaRuth’s, at Antoine’s, and at Arnaud’s. The city of New Orleans and its citizens love food as much as they love life, and for some of them food is life.
I remember one night when my father sat in his chair holding a glass shallowly filled with a dark amber liquid and ice. He sipped the beverage. I asked if I could taste it, but he said no; it was an “adult drink.” He did allow me a sniff, though. It was bourbon, and I was so overwhelmed by the smell of alcohol that I missed the caramel, vanilla, licorice, and sweet oak that my father enjoyed. Over the years I heard my father quote the Bible, where it says “Man cannot live on bread alone.” I knew that beverage was essential to human life. A person can live longer without bread than without beverage. I must admit that my father was not referring to bourbon from his pulpit. But for some, especially in Kentucky, beverage, and more specifically bourbon, is life (and for some it is their livelihood).
When I became an adult, I thought I had to avoid bourbon because I was allergic to corn, a primary bourbon ingredient. It was at an International Association of Culinary Professionals (IACP) conference in San Diego in 2002 that I learned otherwise. Lincoln Henderson, the master distiller for Brown-Forman at the time, presented at the conference I was attending, and I had the pleasure of dining with him and my friends Adam Segar and Chris Morris. Lincoln bought a round of bourbon for the table, but I declined, mentioning my allergy to corn, and asked if mine could be a Scotch, which is made primarily from barley. As if Warren Buffet was about to speak about the economy or investments, the table became silent. Lincoln explained that what I was allergic to was lost in the distillation process. That evening I was converted from Scotch to bourbon.
Another vital lesson related to the development of this book was learned at the 2008 meeting of the IACP in New Orleans. While I was there, Dickie Brennan’s Bourbon House hosted Master Distiller Harlen Wheatley from the Buffalo Trace Distillery for a bourbon pairing dinner. The bourbon was supplied by the distillery from my home state, and the food was prepared by Chef Darin Nesbit in what used to be my hometown. It was a five course meal:
FIRST COURSE
Bacon Pastrami-Wrapped Shrimp with Toasted Ancho Chili Stone Grits and Candied Lemon,
paired with Buffalo Trace
SECOND COURSE
Brown Sugar-Cured Diver Scallops with Chili-Pecan Dressing and Chicory Vinaigrette,
paired with Buffalo Trace
COUP DU MILIEU
Pappy Van Winkle 20 year
THIRD COURSE
Buffalo Osso Bucco with Molasses Sweet Potatoes, Caramelized Peaches, Bourbon Demi-Glacé, and Caramel “Hay,”
paired with Sazerac Rye
DESSERT
Dark Chocolate Bread Pudding Soufflé with Bourbon Sauce,
paired with George T. Stagg
Before I ate this meal, I had believed that bourbon was not the best beverage to pair with food. I considered bourbon an “after-dinner drink,” but this meal proved to me that bourbon could pair excellently with food. I found that to stand up to the intense flavor of bourbon, the food itself has to be full-bodied. Only those foods with a specific flavor profile pair well and accept bourbon into a recipe without damaging or overpowering the other components of the dish. For example, in the second course, the reason the scallops work with the bourbon pairing is the addition of the brown sugar, the chili-pecan dressing, and the chicory vinaigrette. The additions to the seafood pump up the flavor of the dish and intensify what would otherwise be a light-bodied dish. At the end of the meal, my palate was overwhelmed from all the rich food and beverage. I walked down Bourbon Street and through the French Quarter back to my hotel satisfied with the knowledge that bourbon and food worked well together. (See the appendix for recipes for the dishes I was served at Dickie Brennan’s Bourbon House.)
As I researched recipes with bourbon, I noticed that with very few exceptions bourbon is utilized only in southern cooking or by southern expatriates. Not every regional cuisine uses bourbon in its food. In New Orleans, for example, although the city has a connection to bourbon, Cajun and Creole cuisines use very little bourbon. However, you might find bourbon in a dessert whiskey sauce. In Kentucky cuisine you might find more use of bourbon, but it is by no means a staple, nor is it a main component in any dish. Bourbon is a secondary ingredient used in small ratios to flavor food. For these reasons, there are not many cookbooks that feature recipes with bourbon, and those that do exist tend to duplicate recipes from other books. People have different palates, and there are many types of bourbon on the market. The recipes in this book should be made with whichever bourbon you like best, maximizing your enjoyment of the dishes you create.
Most cookbooks are set up by courses: appetizers, entrées, side dishes, and desserts. But after chapter 1, which is devoted to beverages, this cookbook is organized by seasons: winter, spring, summer, and fall. In some cases the food in the recipes is seasonal, grown only at certain times of the year, and in others the recipe itself is seasonal, not commonly prepared during the other seasons. For example, “Spring” is filled with recipes good for the Kentucky Derby and Easter, while “Winter” features recipes that are best served during the Christmas holiday. “Summer” has grilled items that invoke hot summer days in the backyard with a grill, and “Fall” includes recipes for Thanksgiving.
I hope that, beyond re-creating the treats in the following pages, the home cook and the professional chef alike can use the recipes for inspiration to create new dishes that incorporate bourbon. The book can serve as a lesson both on the flavor profiles that pair and improve with bourbon and on what works when you add bourbon to recipes from many masters of the kitchen.