The primary grains of the South have always been rice and corn. Rice farming started on the coastal Sea Islands of South Carolina and Georgia in the late 1600s. For the next one hundred years, the economy of South Carolina was overwhelmingly based on the cultivation of rice, making it one of the richest of the North American colonies. As a result, the capital and its principal port, Charleston, became one of the wealthiest and most fashionable cities in early America. Later, because of the extraordinary success in South Carolina, the rice plantation system was extended farther south into coastal Georgia, where it also prospered.
Food folklore has it that the first rice was delivered to Charleston by a ship weathering a storm. That may have been a spot of luck, but it ended there. Initially, the South Carolina planters were ignorant as to how to grow and cultivate rice. They soon began importing slaves from the traditional rice-growing regions of West Africa and were willing to pay higher prices for slaves from the “Rice Coast.” A bit of Georgia history trivia is that the trustees of the Georgia colony initially desired that Georgia be slavery free, but the prospect of growing rice with slave labor for immense profit quickly changed that lofty goal.
Undoubtedly, European recipes and techniques have heavily influenced the food of our nation and the South, but the impact of the foodways of these African slaves cannot be emphasized enough. The Gullah, African Americans who live in the Low Country region of South Carolina and Georgia, are descendants of these early slaves. The Gullah people are also known as Geechee, a term some historians consider to be related to the Ogeechee River near Savannah, Georgia. Both terms refer to several things: the people, their language, and the culture. The culture originally reached north to the Cape Fear, North Carolina, and south to the vicinity of Jacksonville, Florida, the location of some of the richest plantations in the South. To this day, the descendants of these slaves still live in small farming and fishing communities on the chain of barrier islands known as the Sea Islands. Because of their geographical isolation and strong community life, the Gullah have been able to preserve more of their African cultural heritage and foodways than any other group of Black Americans.
With the end of slavery and a series of devastating hurricanes in the late 1800s, rice production ended in the Low Country. By the early 1900s, rice farming disappeared altogether. Meanwhile, corn was becoming increasingly important as the primary Southern grain. It wasn’t as labor-intensive and was not dependent on slavery. Corn was eaten fresh in the summer and dried and ground into grits for boiling and into cornmeal for baking in the winter.
Corn in the form of grits has become iconic in Southern cooking. There’s a silly little phrase marketed on tea towels, shirts, aprons, and coasters. It says “GRITS: Girls Raised in the South.” There are stories about pulling the leg of an unsuspecting visitor, most often a Yankee, about where grits originate. It’s the Grits Tree, of course, where millions of the tiny, little pieces are harvested by hand. It’s not just folklore. Quaker Oats sells 85 million pounds of grits a year, more than half in the South.
The tragic fact is that most of those grits are instant. Instant grits are offensive. Quick or instant grits taste more like wallpaper paste than sweet, earthy-tasting ground corn. I’ve never had wallpaper paste, but I do know instant grits don’t taste like corn. They may be popular, but consider this: They are also a popular, but ineffective remedy for controlling fire ants. Supposedly, the menacing devil ants consume the offensive bit of instant grit and it swells in their abdomens, bursts, and kills the scourge. Too bad they are not good for something. It’s one of those garden tales that only sounds good.
Here’s the scoop on ground corn. First, imagine a rounded kernel of corn. The outside is called the hull or bran. (That’s the part that gets stuck in your teeth when you eat popcorn.) The starchy inside is called the endosperm and that makes everything from cornmeal to candy—as well as shoe polish and explosives, but that’s another story. Finally, inside the kernel at the very center where the kernel attaches to the cob is the germ. The germ is used to make corn oil. So, the germ contains all the oil, which can go rancid.
There are two kinds of grits: corn grits and hominy grits. Corn grits are made from whole-grain kernels of dried corn that are ground into a meal. They can be medium or coarse grind, as opposed to cornmeal, which can be fine or medium grind. For the best-quality cornmeal and grits, the corn is allowed to fully ripen, then dry on the stalks in the field before harvesting. The ears are then removed and placed (while still in their husks) in a cool, dry place, known as a crib, for their final drying. When they are ready to be ground, the ears are shucked and the kernels are removed from the cob. The corn kernels are run through the millstone, where they are ground to a desired texture and then sifted through wire-mesh screens. It’s best to refrigerate perishable whole-grain grits after opening to extend their shelf life.
Hominy grits are made from whole kernels of corn that have had the outside shell and germ removed. Hominy is corn that is soaked in lye or potash, a potassium compound, which causes it to swell and the outer shell or hull to loosen. The kernels are then hulled, the germ is removed, and the remaining corn kernel is dried. These branless, germless dried kernels are then ground into hominy grits. Hominy grits with the germ removed have a longer shelflife than ground corn grits. Instant and quick grits are made from hominy corn that has had the hulls and germ removed. They are cooked, spread into a thin paste (I am not being dramatic; it’s true), dried, then pulverized again to become like ground corn.
Instant potatoes are about as appealing as instant grits. We did use them in culinary school—to practice piping. Even copious amounts of butter render them barely edible. Scotch-Irish folk primarily settled the South, so there’s not a complete lack of love for potatoes. Potatoes have never been as important an agribusiness crop, but people have historically grown them for their own consumption. Dede always had a few rows in his vegetable garden. He’d harvest them and store them in large burlap sacks in the basement. Monsieur Milbert, the gardener and caretaker at Château du Fëy, did the same. It always made me smile, seeing the similarities: two old country men, happy as can be puttering about their gardens, tending to their plants, and putting food on the table.
Grits, rice, and potatoes are simple starches that have comforted many and have long fed the poor of the world. Cheesy, creamy bowls of comfort or crispy brown buttered spuds can be a satisfying side or a simple supper. In this chapter we’ll see that even a Basic recipe for humble porridge can be elevated into something Brilliant through a bit of chef-inspired creativity and classic French technique.
Low Country Risotto
SERVES 4
Traditionally, short-grain Arborio or medium-grain Carnaroli rice is slowly cooked by adding warm broth a little at a time to make a risotto, a creamy rice dish. Carolina Gold, from the Low Country, is an aromatic long-grain rice and is the granddaddy of South Carolina rice, supposedly the very rice that docked in Charleston all those centuries ago. Long-grain rice isn’t traditional for risotto, but will still produce a creamy rice if basic risotto technique is followed.
When my first book, Bon Appétit, Y’all, came out, the folks at Paula Deen gave me a call and asked me to be a guest on her show. Paula and Midnight in the Garden of Good and Evil have put Savannah and the Low Country on the map. The thing about Paula? She’s exactly what you see on TV. After being in food television for years and ages, let me just say not everyone is as genuine. And, frankly, so are her beautiful blue eyes. I am not sure, but her eyes are about as close as I would imagine to Elizabeth Taylor’s and her violet gaze. At the end of the taping, sweet Paula said I was a darn good cook, and I could park my shoes next to her stove any time. I left not only happy that I had met her, but also felt like I had made a friend.
4 cups homemade chicken stock or reduced-fat, low-sodium chicken broth
2 tablespoons unsalted butter
1 onion, preferably Vidalia, chopped
1 medium leek, finely chopped
2 celery stalks, finely chopped
1 cup long-grain rice
Coarse salt and freshly ground white pepper
¾ cup dry white wine
2 cups lightly packed watercress, tough stems removed, or baby spinach (about 2 ounces)
2 tablespoons freshly grated Parmigiano-Reggiano cheese
¼ cup chopped mixed fresh herbs (such as flat-leaf parsley, chives, and tarragon)
¼ cup toasted sesame seeds
Heat the stock in a saucepan over medium heat and keep warm.
Melt the butter in a large, shallow saucepan over medium heat. Add the onion, leek, and celery and cook, stirring often, until they are soft and tender, 3 to 5 minutes. Add the rice and season with salt and white pepper. Stir to coat until it absorbs the butter and looks almost transparent, about 2 minutes. Add the wine and simmer until it is almost all evaporated.
Add the broth ½ cup at a time, allowing the broth to be absorbed before adding more and stirring frequently, until the rice is creamy and tender, 20 to 25 minutes.
Remove the risotto from the heat; add the watercress, Parmesan, and herbs. Taste and adjust for seasoning with salt and pepper. Serve the risotto in warmed shallow bowls, sprinkled with the sesame seeds.
Risotto isn’t a recipe as much as it is a technique. The broth is warmed because cold liquid stops the swelling of the starch, and the result would not be rich and creamy. An additional technique chefs use to bolster the creaminess of the risotto and to elevate our risotto to Brilliant is to add an egg yolk. At the very end of cooking, after adding the watercress and cheese, remove from the heat. Add 1 lightly beaten large egg yolk and stir until smooth. (The starch prevents the egg yolk from curdling.) Taste and adjust for seasoning with salt and pepper. Serve immediately in warmed shallow bowls, sprinkled with the sesame seeds.
SERVES 4 TO 6
This savory dish is a satisfying side dish or a hearty, filling vegetarian main course paired with Mushroom Ragout. I employ a béchamel to bind the rice. If you wanted, you could use chicken stock instead of the milk, transforming the sauce into a velouté. This dish reminds me of a dish my roommate used to prepare in college that consisted of rice, cream of mushroom soup, and boneless, skinless chicken breasts. Forget the canned soup, but if you did want to make this a one-dish meal, nestle 4 boneless skinless breasts, seasoned with salt and pepper, into the gratin before baking.
2 tablespoon canola oil
3 shallots, finely chopped
2 tablespoons all-purpose flour
2 cups low-fat or whole milk, warmed
¼ teaspoon freshly grated nutmeg
Pinch of cayenne pepper, or to taste
2 cups cooked brown rice
1 tablespoon chopped fresh flat-leaf parsley
Coarse salt and freshly ground white pepper
½ cup grated Gruyère cheese (about 2 ounces)
Preheat the oven to 350°F. Brush a medium gratin dish with oil. Set aside.
Heat the oil in a large skillet over medium-low heat. Add the shallots and cook until translucent, 3 to 5 minutes. Add the flour and stir to coat and combine. Whisk in the milk and bring to a boil over high heat. Add the nutmeg and cayenne pepper. Fold in the rice and parsley. Taste and adjust for seasoning with salt and white pepper. Transfer to the prepared gratin dish. Sprinkle over the cheese.
Bake until a rich golden brown, about 30 minutes. Remove to a rack to cool slightly before serving.
Transform cheesy rice goodness into sophisticated vegetarian fare by wrapping it in tender chard.
Follow the Basic recipe up until you are ready to sprinkle the cheese. Instead, add the cheese to the rice mixture. Set aside. Brush six 1-cup ramekins with canola oil. Set aside. Line a rimmed baking sheet with paper towels. Set aside. Bring a pot of salted water to a boil over high heat. Decrease the heat to a simmer. Rinse 12 or so smallish Swiss chard leaves under cold water. Using a pair of tongs, dip the chard leaves one at a time into simmering water until pliable, 20 to 30 seconds, and refresh in a basin of cold water. Drain, then place on the prepared baking sheet to drain. Line each ramekin with 2 leaves of blanched chard, leaving enough overhang to cover the top. Add the filling and fold the leaves to seal. Repeat with remaining leaves and filling. Discard the paper towels. Cover each ramekin with foil and place on the rimmed baking sheet. Bake until set, about 20 minutes. Remove to a rack to cool slightly. Invert the ramekins onto warmed serving plates and serve immediately.
I wholeheartedly recommend using reusable freezer-safe, oven-to-table casserole dishes for baking and storing. But, if you do like to make ahead, you might find yourself short on dishes. Try this helpful hint: Line the baking dish with heavy-duty aluminum foil. Brush the foil with oil or butter. Assemble the casserole and freeze. Once it’s frozen solid, lift out the foil-covered casserole. Wrap the block tightly with more foil and return to the freezer. When it’s time to thaw the casserole, unwrap it from the foil and simply pop it back into the casserole dish. Thaw completely in the refrigerator before baking.
SERVES 4 TO 6
Wild rice is actually not true rice; it is an aquatic grass that produces an edible seed and grows in the shallows of lakes and rivers throughout eastern and north central United States. Wild rice has been harvested and eaten by Native Americans for centuries. It’s prized for its distinctive natural flavor, texture, and unique, almost nutty flavor.
What I remember most about wild rice was toting about twenty-five pounds of it in my luggage to make Bob Lynn’s Wild Rice Salad for a wedding Nathalie Dupree and I catered in Washington, DC. We—I mean—I hauled up ten beef tenderloins on top of that. It doesn’t make a lick of sense now—DC had grocery stores—but I just did as I was told. I never actually met Bob, and I didn’t eat wild rice for years after.
½ cup wild rice (makes 2 cups cooked rice)
2 cups water
½ teaspoon coarse salt, plus more to season
1 tablespoon unsalted butter
1 onion, preferably Vidalia, finely diced
1 carrot, finely diced
1 celery stalk, finely diced
½ teaspoon chopped fresh thyme
Freshly ground black pepper
1 Granny Smith apple, cored and finely diced
Juice of ½ lemon
¼ cup pecans, toasted and chopped
2 cups mixed young tender winter greens (such as mizuna, kale, collards, and mustard greens)
1 cup fresh flat-leaf parsley leaves
1 cup snipped fresh chives (½-inch lengths)
Shallot Vinaigrette, warmed
¼ cup dried cherries, cranberries, or diced dried plum, for garnish
In a heavy saucepan, combine the rice, water, and salt over medium-high heat. Cover and reduce heat to simmer and cook until tender, about 30 minutes. Remove from the heat and let rest, covered, for an additional 30 minutes. Drain the rice in a colander. Set aside.
Heat the butter in a heavy skillet over medium heat. Add the onion, carrot, celery, and thyme. Season with salt and pepper. Cook, stirring occasionally, until translucent, 5 to 7 minutes. Meanwhile, toss the apple in a small bowl with the lemon juice to prevent browning. Add the drained rice, apple, and pecans to the skillet and stir to combine. Taste and adjust for seasoning with salt and pepper. Remove from the heat and set aside.
Combine the greens, parsley, and chives in a large bowl. Season with salt and pepper. Drizzle over some of the vinaigrette and toss to evenly coat and slightly wilt the greens. Divide the salad among serving plates. Top with a spoonful of the warm rice mixture. Drizzle additional warmed vinaigrette over the rice. Garnish with the dried fruit. Serve immediately.
These cakes are nutty and sweet and take our make-ahead Wild Rice Salad to Brilliant.
Place the rice salad in a large bowl. Add ½ cup all-purpose flour, 1 large egg, and 2 tablespoons low-fat milk. Stir to combine. Heat 1 tablespoon canola oil in a large nonstick skillet over medium-high heat. Working in batches, scoop the batter by ¼-cup measures into the skillet. Flatten the pancakes slightly, and cook until golden, 1 to 2 minutes on each side. Transfer to a plate lined with paper towels. Makes 12. Divide the salad among plates. Top each serving with 2 or 3 Wild Rice Cakes. Garnish with the dried fruit.
SERVES 8
When I started my first cooking job, under Nathalie Dupree, I was a scared, hardworking, novice thirsting for knowledge. She has been my friend and guide all along the way, but she’s a very complicated woman. While apprenticing in her home, she used to drive me absolutely, positively crazy, leaving her peanut butter–covered knife on the counter after making a sandwich, or mixing her lady garments into the laundry with my kitchen towels. Several months after I left her apprenticeship, she called me in DC to ask me how to work her microwave.
Pat Conroy once wrote that Nathalie was “more like a fictional character than a flesh and blood person.” That still makes me howl with laughter. But it’s not because she putters about uttering epithets like “do as I say, not as I do” or “oops, I dropped my diamond” when she drops a bowl. It’s because it’s impossible to imagine that anyone could truly be that generous and loving and be a real-life person. She’s one of my dearest friends ever, and I love her. Try her grits, and you will love her, too.
5 cups low-fat or whole milk
1 cup (2 sticks) unsalted butter, plus more for the baking dish
1 cup stone-ground grits
1 teaspoon fine sea salt, plus more as needed
¼ teaspoon cayenne pepper, plus more as needed
4 cups grated sharp white Cheddar cheese (1 pound)
1 tablespoon Dijon mustard
⅛ teaspoon ground mace
6 large eggs, separated
Preheat the oven to 350°F. Generously butter a 9 × 13-inch ovenproof baking dish.
Bring the milk to a boil in a large, heavy saucepan over medium-high heat. Stir in the grits and return to a boil. Season with the 1 teaspoon salt and cayenne pepper. Decrease the heat to low and simmer until creamy and thick but still loose and saucy, 45 to 60 minutes. Remove from the heat. Stir in the cheese, butter, mustard, and mace. Cool slightly. Taste and adjust for seasoning with salt and pepper.
Lightly beat the egg yolks in a small bowl. Stir a little of the grits into the yolks to heat them slightly, then add the yolks to the grits mixture and combine thoroughly. (This technique is called tempering; it makes the temperatures of two mixtures—one containing raw egg—more similar, so the eggs don’t curdle in the presence of the hot grits.)
In the bowl of a heavy-duty mixer fitted with the whisk attachment, beat the egg whites with a pinch of sea salt on medium speed until foamy. Increase the speed to high and whip until stiff peaks form, 2 to 3 minutes.
Add about one-quarter of the beaten egg whites to the grits mixture and stir until well mixed. Pour this lightened mixture over the remaining whites and fold them together as gently as possible.
Pour into the prepared baking dish. (The soufflé may be made several hours ahead to this point, covered, and set aside or refrigerated. When you are ready to finish it, return the soufflé to room temperature.)
Bake the soufflé until it is puffed and lightly browned, 40 to 45 minutes. Spoon onto warmed serving plates and serve immediately.
Basic shrimp and grits are a Low Country classic, but
Nathalie’s Cheese Grits Soufflé topped with her Butter Shrimp Sauce is undoubtedly Brilliant and certainly a heart-stopping indulgence.
Just before serving, so as not to overcook the shrimp, melt 1 cup (2 sticks) unsalted butter in a large
skillet. Add 1½ pounds small shrimp (31/35 count), peeled and deveined, and cook until they start to turn pink, 3 to 4 minutes. Add 2 to 3 tablespoons chopped fresh mixed herbs such as flat-leaf parsley and basil. Taste and adjust for seasoning with fine sea salt and cayenne pepper. Serves 8. To serve, remove the soufflé from the oven and spoon onto warmed serving plates. Ladle the shrimp and their sauce over each serving. Serve immediately.
Sweet Potato Grits
SERVES 4 TO 6
The first time I had sweet potato grits, it was a revelation. Two of the ultimate Southern sides were married into one—delicious. I’ve mentioned cooking has taught me a lot about life, and it sure keeps trying to teach me patience.
Anyone who has burned his or her mouth tasting a spoonful of hot grits before they cool knows the importance of patience. Remove a steak from the grill and cut into it before it has rested? The juices run all over the board and the steak is dry and tough. Even more dire is to cut a cake or a loaf of bread before it cools sufficiently and it crumbles. Open the oven door too often to check on cooking, and your dish ceases to cook because all the heat has escaped. Patience is a key ingredient. These flavorful grits are a reward for being patient.
2 cups water
2 cups low-fat or whole milk
1 cup stone-ground grits
2 medium sweet potatoes, peeled and grated
Coarse salt and freshly ground white pepper
¼ teaspoon ground ginger
Pinch of ground cinnamon
1 tablespoon unsalted butter
In a large, heavy saucepan, combine the water and milk and bring to a gentle boil over medium-high heat. Slowly add the grits, whisking constantly. Add the sweet potato. Season with salt and white pepper. Decrease the heat to low and simmer, stirring often, until the grits are creamy and thick, 45 to 60 minutes.
Taste the grits and sweet potato to make sure both are cooked and tender. Add the ground ginger, cinnamon, and butter. Taste and adjust for seasoning with salt and white pepper. Serve immediately.
Add a bit of technique and our Basic country classic is transformed into a Brilliant soufflélike spoonbread. Preheat the oven to 375°F. Butter an ovenproof casserole or round 2-quart soufflé mold. To the sweet potato–grits mixture, add 2 large egg yolks, one at a time, stirring after each addition. In a separate bowl, using a handheld mixer, beat 2 large egg whites with a pinch of salt on high speed until stiff peaks form. Gently fold the egg whites into the warm sweet potato mixture. Transfer the lightened mixture to the prepared pan; smooth the surface with a spatula. Bake until the outside is puffed and risen, the inside is firm but moist, and the top is golden brown, 35 to 40 minutes. Serve immediately while still puffed. Serves 4 to 6.
SERVES 4 TO 6
Sweet potatoes are good and good for you. Most Southern recipes drown them in butter and sugar, but they are so good with a just a whisper of butter. In this recipe the potatoes are first roasted, then scooped and mashed. You can use the microwave if you are pressed for time, but roasting brings out the complex flavors.
4 medium sweet potatoes (about 2 pounds)
2 tablespoons sorghum, cane, molasses, or maple syrup (see right)
1 tablespoon unsalted butter
Finely grated zest and juice of ½ orange
½ teaspoon ground cinnamon
½ teaspoon ground allspice
¼ teaspoon freshly grated nutmeg
Pinch of cayenne pepper
Coarse salt and freshly ground black pepper
Preheat the oven to 400°F. Line a rimmed baking sheet with a silicone baking liner or parchment paper. (This will help with clean up.)
Using a fork, pierce the sweet potatoes in several places and place on the prepared baking sheet. Bake until fork-tender, about 50 minutes. Set aside to cool.
When the potatoes are cool enough to handle, peel the potatoes, discarding the skin. Place the pulp in large bowl. (If you really want them creamy, press them through a fine-mesh sieve or food mill.) Add the syrup, butter, orange zest and juice, cinnamon, allspice, nutmeg, and cayenne. Season with salt and pepper. Using a potato masher, heavy-duty whisk, or handheld mixer, beat until smooth. Taste and adjust for seasoning with salt and pepper. Transfer the sweet potatoes to a warmed serving bowl. Serve immediately.
Meme peeled hers; discarding the skin, and Mama does, too, but I like the leathery skin. It’s the extra step of stuffing these that makes this recipe Brilliant.
Using an oven mitt or folded kitchen towel to hold the cooked potatoes, cut the potatoes in half. Using a spoon, scoop the flesh from each half into a bowl, leaving a ⅛-inch to ¼-inch thickness of flesh in each shell. Arrange the shells on a baking sheet and bake until dry and slightly crisped, about 10 minutes. Meanwhile, prepare the mash as in the Basic recipe. Spoon the still-warm potato mixture into the crisped shells, mounding slightly at the center. Sprinkle ½ cup pecans equally over the filled sweet potatoes. Bake until slightly brown and crisp on top, about 10 minutes. Serve immediately. Serves 4 to 8.
The traditional Southern syrups are molasses, cane, and sorghum.
Molasses is a by-product of sugar refining, the syrup remaining after sugarcane juice has been processed or boiled to produce granulated sugar. The more times molasses is boiled, the less sweet it becomes. The last processes produce blackstrap molasses, a dark, bitter syrup with the highest nutritional value.
Cane syrup is made from the juice boiled down from sugarcane, similar to how maple sap is boiled down to make maple syrup. Cane syrup is thicker than sorghum syrup and tends to have a fuller, sweeter taste. It is delicious.
Sorghum is a canelike grass related to millet. When crushed, the juice is boiled down to produce sorghum syrup. Sorghum is vitamin rich with iron, calcium, and potassium and has a earthy, slightly vegetal flavor.
SERVES 4 TO 6
Several years ago, I traveled to Dijon to shoot the making of mustard, where it has been made for hundreds of years. The air is amazingly pungent and goggles are actually necessary in the factories. Mustard belongs to the same genus, Brassica, as broccoli, collards, and kale, all greens strong in flavor with a touch of heat and a hint of bitterness.
There are different types of mustard seed; yellow and brown are the most common. Milder yellow seeds are used to make American mustard. Brown seeds are hotter and used for Dijon mustard as well as spicy Asian mustard. The word mustard comes from an ancient Roman condiment of crushed mustard seed and “must,” or unfermented grape juice. The French word moutarde is derived from a contraction of moust, or “must,” and ardent, meaning “blazing” or “burning”—as in hot. This little kiss of heat with the creamy potatoes is just enough to make this Basic every-night supper dish more than the same old, same old.
2 pounds Yukon gold potatoes, peeled and cut into large chunks
Coarse salt
1⅓ cups low-fat or whole milk
¼ cup (½ stick) unsalted butter
¼ cup coarse-grain Dijon mustard
Freshly ground white pepper
Place the potatoes in a large, heavy saucepan and cover with cold water. Season with salt, bring to a boil over high heat, then decrease the heat to low. Gently simmer until the potatoes are fork-tender, about 25 minutes.
Meanwhile, in a second saucepan, combine the milk, butter, and mustard over low heat. Cook until the butter is melted; cover and keep warm.
Drain the potatoes in a colander and return them to the saucepan over medium heat. Cook, stirring constantly, until a floury film forms on the bottom of the pan, 1 to 2 minutes. Remove from the heat. Pass the potatoes through a ricer or food mill, or mash with a potato masher until smooth. Add the warm milk mixture, stirring vigorously until well combined. Taste and adjust for seasoning with salt and white pepper. Serve immediately.
Pommes Mont d’Or translates to Golden Potato Mountain. Sounds pretty Brilliant, doesn’t it?
Preheat the oven to 350°F. Grease a gratin dish with 1 tablespoon unsalted butter. To the saucepan containing the slightly cooled potato mixture, add 3 lightly beaten large eggs and 1 tablespoon chopped fresh thyme. Stir to combine. Pour into the prepared gratin dish and spread gently with a spatula. Sprinkle ¼ cup (1 ounce) grated Gruyère cheese on top and bake until a rich golden brown, about 30 minutes. Remove to a rack to cool slightly, then serve. Serves 4 to 6.
Pithiviers Savoyarde, the Brilliant version of Parmesan Potatoes
SERVES 4
Mama tells the story of Aunt Lee offering to bring homemade potato chips to a school function. This was long before the age of food processors, so the potatoes had to be thinly sliced by hand. A mandoline may seem like a fancy gourmet appliance, but Meme actually had one she had purchased at the county fair when Mama was a little girl. Meme had made those chips before, but this time was one too many, so she delegated the task to Aunt Lee. Mama says that was the last time Aunt Lee offered homemade potato chips for parties.
You won’t find this recipe nearly that labor-intensive. Serve this as a side dish at supper or for breakfast. It’s just buttery and cheesy enough without being overly rich like many potato gratins.
2 tablespoons unsalted butter, melted, plus more if needed
1 tablespoon extra-virgin olive oil
2 pounds Yukon gold potatoes
Coarse salt and freshly ground black pepper
¼ cup finely grated Parmigiano-Reggiano cheese (about 1 ounce)
1 teaspoon chopped fresh thyme
Preheat the oven to 450°F.
Combine 1 tablespoon of the butter and the oil in a large bowl. Thinly slice the potatoes with a chef’s knife or on a mandoline and place in the bowl as you slice, without rinsing. (The potato starch will help bind them, instead of adding lots of cream or cheese.) Season with salt and pepper and toss to combine.
Heat the remaining 1 tablespoon butter in a 10-inch heavy, ovenproof skillet over medium-high heat. Place about one-third of the potatoes in one slightly overlapping layer in the skillet.
Toss the remaining potatoes with the cheese and thyme. Season with salt and pepper. Spread evenly over the first layer of potatoes in the skillet, pressing with a spatula. Cook for 3 minutes over medium heat, then transfer the skillet to the oven and roast, uncovered, until the potatoes are tender and the top is starting to brown, 20 to 25 minutes. Brush with additional butter, if desired.
Place on a rack to cool slightly. Invert onto a cutting board, cut into wedges, and serve.
Pithivier is a fancy word for an enclosed pie. Think “hot pocket.” I once worked in the French alpine region of Savoie, where the hearty dishes are dubbed savoyarde style and often include potatoes, cheese, and ham.
Preheat the oven to 375°F. Line a rimmed baking sheet with a silicone baking liner or parchment paper. Whisk together 1 large egg and 1 tablespoon water in a small bowl. Set aside. Using a cookie cutter, cut out four 4-inch rounds of potatoes from the skillet. Set aside. On a lightly floured work surface, roll out 1 pound
Quick Puff Pastry or 1 (14-ounce) box store-bought puff pastry ⅛ inch thick. Using a 5-inch cookie cutter or a plate as a guide, cut out 8 pastry circles. Place on the prepared baking sheet. Refrigerate or freeze until firm, about 15 minutes. Meanwhile, using a 4-inch cookie cutter, cut out 4 circles from 4 slices of thinly sliced country ham, prosciutto, Serrano ham, or even deli ham. Remove one of the pastry circles. Brush with Dijon mustard. Top with a disk of potatoes, then a slice of ham. Scatter 1 tablespoon grated Gruyère on top. Brush the outer edges of the pastry circle with the egg wash. Top with a second pastry circle and press to seal. Brush the top with more egg wash. Scallop the sealed edges with the backside of a knife. Repeat with the remaining ingredients. Bake until a rich golden brown, 20 to 25 minutes. Makes 4. Serve immediately or at room temperature.
SERVES 4 TO 6
We don’t always serve grits for breakfast in the South. Sometimes there isn’t time. Some recipes for home fries call for precooking the potatoes. My preference, especially since I’m not a morning person, is that simple is best. I find that covering the potatoes while they brown steams them at the same time.
1 tablespoon unsalted butter
1 tablespoon canola oil
2 pounds Yukon gold potatoes, diced
Coarse salt and freshly ground black pepper
1 onion, preferably Vidalia, chopped
½ teaspoon paprika
2 tablespoons chopped fresh flat-leaf parsley
Heat the butter and oil in large cast-iron skillet over medium-high heat until shimmering. Add the potatoes and shake the skillet to evenly distribute them in a single layer; make sure that one side of each piece is touching the surface of the skillet. Season with salt and pepper. Cook, without stirring, until the potatoes are golden brown on the bottom, 4 to 5 minutes, then turn potatoes with an offset spatula. Decrease the heat to medium and cover with a lid. Continue to cook, turning every 4 to 5 minutes, until potatoes are tender and browned on most sides, an additional 15 minutes. Add the paprika and parsley and stir to combine. Taste and adjust for seasoning with salt and pepper. Serve immediately.
The first Waffle House opened in 1955, in Avondale Estates, Georgia. Today, the Waffle House chain of twenty-four-hour restaurants is a Southern institution. Everyone, from hardworking laborers to hung-over frat boys to blue-haired society ladies to soccer moms, loves the food and friendly service. As the name implies, the restaurants serve a lot of waffles. Equally popular, however, are their hash browns. There is a whole lingo for ordering that makes them “scattered” (spread on the grill, so they are really crispy), “smothered” (with onions), or “covered” (with cheese). Brilliant doesn’t even begin to describe it. Although the Waffle House uses shredded potatoes for their hash browns, the results are equally Brilliant with diced potatoes.
After cooking the potatoes for about 10 minutes, add 1 onion, preferably Vidalia, chopped, and stir to combine. Continue to cook, turning every 4 to 5 minutes, until potatoes are tender and browned on most sides, about 15 more minutes. Add the paprika and parsley and stir to combine. Add 1 cup grated Cheddar cheese (about 4 ounces) and toss to coat. Taste and adjust for seasoning with coarse salt and freshly ground black pepper. Serve immediately. Serves 4.
SERVES 4
It seems every culture in the world has its version of dumplings. In the South, it’s a biscuitlike dough rolled out and added to simmering broth. Gnocchi are Italian dumplings often made of potato and sometimes wheat flour. This French recipe uses the kitchen workhorse, pâte a choux, also used to make the gougères in Bon Appétit, Y’all, as well as éclairs and profiteroles. Parisienne means many things in French cooking. First and foremost, it means “in the manner of Paris,” which automatically denotes sophistication.
A note of encouragement: Don’t panic when you are adding the eggs and the dough starts to look awful. Just keep stirring and it will come together.
1 cup low-fat or whole milk
¼ cup (½ stick) plus 1 tablespoon unsalted butter, plus more for the baking sheet and gratin dish
½ teaspoon fine sea salt, more for the cooking water
1 cup all-purpose flour
3 large eggs, at room temperature
¼ cup chopped mixed fresh tender herbs (such as flat-leaf parsley, chives, and basil)
⅓ cup grated Gruyère cheese (about 1⅓ ounces)
⅓ cup freshly grated Parmigiano-Reggiano cheese (about 1⅓ ounces)
Freshly ground white pepper
Preheat the oven to 375°F. Lightly butter a rimmed baking sheet and a large gratin dish. Set aside.
To make the dough, in a saucepan, combine the milk, ¼ cup of the butter, and the ½ teaspoon salt and bring to a gentle boil over high heat. Immediately remove the pan from the heat, add the flour all at once, and beat vigorously with a wooden spoon until the mixture is smooth and pulls away from the sides of the pan to form a ball, 30 to 60 seconds. (This mixture is called the panade.) Beat over low heat for an additional 30 to 60 seconds to dry the mixture.
With a wooden spoon, beat the eggs into the dough, one at a time, beating thoroughly after each addition. (The dough will come together, I promise.) Beat until the dough is shiny and slides from the spoon. Add the herbs and Gruyère.
Bring a pot of water to a boil over high heat. Add a little salt and decrease the heat to simmer for gentle poaching. I’ve found that using a small ice cream scoop about the size of a gumball is by far the easiest way to prepare these gnocchi. Or, for traditional (and a bit more troublesome) gnocchi, transfer the dough to a large pastry bag. As you squeeze the back of the bag with your right hand, hold a small knife in your left hand and cut off 1-inch lengths of dough, allowing the gnocchi to drop into the pot.
Keep the water at a gentle simmer, not at a rolling boil. Working in batches so as not to overcrowd the pot, add the dough to the simmering water. First, the gnocchi will sink to the bottom, then rise to the top after a few minutes. Poach them until they are cooked all the way through (cut one open to check and taste; it shouldn’t be doughy), about 5 minutes. Remove them with a slotted spoon to the prepared baking sheet. Repeat with the remaining dough.
To serve, toss with the remaining 1 tablespoon butter. Taste and adjust for seasoning with salt and pepper. Arrange the gnocchi in one layer in the prepared gratin dish. Top with the Parmigiano-Reggiano. Bake until puffed and lightly browned, 20 to 25 minutes. Serve immediately.
This recipe turns things inside out with the pasta and vegetables, and the results are Brilliant.
Trim off the ends from 4 zucchini squash. Using the julienne blade of a mandoline, slice the zucchini into long julienne strips. Transfer the zucchini to a colander set in the sink. Toss the strips with 1 teaspoon coarse salt. Set aside for 15 minutes at room temperature. Gently squeeze the zucchini to extract excess water. Heat 1 tablespoon pure olive oil over medium-high heat. Add 1 clove garlic, mashed to a paste, and cook until fragrant, 45 to 60 seconds. Add the zucchini and 2 tablespoons chopped fresh basil and cook just until heated through, about 1 minute. Taste and adjust for seasoning with salt and pepper. Serves 4. To serve, make a nest of zucchini on warmed serving plates. Fill with a spoonful of the gnocchi. Serve immediately.
SERVES 6 TO 8
Sure sounds fancy, doesn’t it? It’s just simple macaroni and cheese made with béchamel (pictured here), but we’ve got a twist. As soon as cheese is added to a béchamel, it becomes Mornay sauce. (For more about the mother sauces, see The Five Mother Sauces.) I’ve noticed more recipes from the northern states use this technique. Most Southern mac and cheese recipes call for a custard base of sorts with egg and milk, rather than a roux-based sauce. I do not discriminate; I like browned, bubbly, cheesy goodness any way it comes.
2 cups low-fat or whole milk
Bouquet garni (5 sprigs thyme; 4 sprigs flat-leaf parsley; 2 bay leaves, preferably fresh; and 10 whole black peppercorns, tied together in cheesecloth)
¼ cup (½ stick) unsalted butter, plus more for the baking dish
¼ cup all-purpose flour
1¼ cups grated Gruyère cheese (about 5 ounces)
Coarse salt and freshly ground black pepper
3 tablespoons chopped fresh mixed herbs (such as flat-leaf parsley, chives, and basil)
1 pound pasta (such as penne, farfalle, or rigatoni), cooked and well drained
½ cup plain or whole-wheat fresh or panko (Japanese) breadcrumbs
¼ cup freshly grated Parmigiano-Reggiano cheese (1 ounce)
Heat the milk in a small pot until just simmering. Add the bouquet garni. Remove from the heat and set aside to steep for 10 minutes.
Meanwhile, preheat the broiler. Butter a large gratin dish and set aside.
Melt the butter in a saucepan over medium heat. Whisk in the flour and cook for a minute or two until foaming. Remove and discard the bouquet garni, pour in the milk, and bring to a boil, whisking constantly until the sauce thickens. Season with salt and pepper and simmer for 2 minutes. The sauce should coat the back of a spoon. Remove the sauce from the heat and stir in half the Gruyère cheese until it melts. Taste and adjust for seasoning with salt and pepper. Place the pasta in a large bowl, add the herbs, spoon the sauce over, and stir to combine.
Spoon the mixture into the prepared gratin dish. Combine the remaining Gruyère, breadcrumbs, and Parmigiano-Reggiano. Sprinkle over the top of the gratin. Transfer the gratin to the broiler and broil until browned and bubbling, 8 to 10 minutes. Remove from the oven and let cool slightly before serving.
This Basic pasta gratin is easily a match for all sorts of additions, some of which will render it Brilliant. In summer, a chopped heirloom tomato and, if I’m feeling luxurious, perhaps shrimp or lump crabmeat. Yes, of course, truffle shavings and lobster will do the trick, but one of my all-time favorites is to simplify, not elevate, to make this a Brilliant recipe. Southerners love casseroles, and the top two ingredients for casseroles are undoubtedly broccoli and chicken. Why not marry them all?
Cut 1 head broccoli into 1-inch florets. During the last few minutes the pasta is cooking, add the broccoli to the pot. Drain the pasta and broccoli well and proceed as directed in the recipe. Just before spooning the mixture into the gratin dish, add the meat, in bite-size pieces, from 1 rotisserie or roast chicken (about 3 cups). Spoon into the gratin dish and bake as directed. Serves 6.
Low Country Risotto