My daughter M and I are driving up North to Connecticut today; to the lovely town of Old Lyme.  We are going to spend 2 weeks with my family. My other daughters D and L are flying in from Alaska and Phoenix with my precious grandsons W and L for two weeks as well. We will be staying crammed in my sister H’s home who she shares with her husband E and their two daughters M and O. My parents known as mom and dad live in an attached guest cottage. My sister and her family have two dogs. Scout is coming on the trip also.

Confused yet? I know I am.

At this point if you are still reading you are probably asking yourself, I think it’s about time I left this odd site. But don’t go yet. I want to give you a little teaser of what’s to come, food wise. Because my family cooks, and I mean cooks, we will eat well. With at least 12 people on hand for dinner, it is going to be a trip at the dinner table. No one, and I mean no one has a chance to get a word in edgewise around this crew.

Here is a preview of the possible highlights in store for you and me. Especially me because I am going to eat my fill and not think of the consequences. Yes there will be consequences, I don’t think I could walk enough to counteract the food I will be consuming.

1. First off, expect the sequel to “Is there a Squirrel in my Brunswick Stew”. We will be using the premo of all recipes for this Southern stew. It is unlike any other recipe and requires a master grill-er. This is where dad comes in. He is a pro. More to come on his skills. The other reason for the sequel is my sister H has a dog Kyle who is young and fast. She also has a miniature dog named Princess. We don’t expect Princess to be of much help but I figure between Kyle and Scout, we have a better chance of catching some squirrels for the stew just to keep it real Southern.
2. Jewish Rye Bread; the real thing folks. My dad is also a master baker, he is so talented. For years he tried to create this recipe without luck. A chance encounter with a Jewish baker lead him to the secret. I am going to share it along with the recipe. My dad bakes bread ever day or so, store bought has never had a place in my home, so lots of bread coming.
3. Grilled Goat cheese stuffed lettuce courtesy of my mom. She made this two years ago at my last visit, and I am still dreaming about this. Easy to make and mouth watering beyond words. Go mom!
4. A good old fashioned New England Clam Bake live from New England of course. Always a meal when we get together, get ready to drool because we are having the real McCoy. Whoops, wrong side of the Mason Dixon line. Lobsters fresh from the chilly waters of New England specifically Maine, steamers, corn, potatoes and coleslaw.
5. Rhubarb flown in on Alaska Air from my daughter D’s garden. For those that don’t know it, the Russians are rumored to have brought this to Alaska where it grows best. It should be ready to pick right before D gets on the plane, she has been instructed to bring a suitcase full. Lot’s of rhubarb coming. FYI, Alaska grows the best rhubarb.
6. Also, from D by way of Alaska, wild salmon that they caught themselves. It is a trip hearing the story of how they get their salmon once a year. D has become a real pioneer lady and a good sport. She bikes ten miles each way to work every day towing my grandson with her.
7. Clams clams and more clams. Clams are on my top ten. So, we will have clams casino, steamed clams and clam chowder and more……..
8. Ice cream of the day. Bringing my ice cream maker and will feature a flavor of the day if I can keep up with it.
9. Southern Barbecue; yes I am putting my young 81 yr old dad to work and we are going to give a hand at some barbecue.
10. Beach Donuts: this brings back memories of my childhood as we made a day trip on weekends to get our fill of the best donuts you will ever have. They are only open in the summer and be prepared to drool.
11. My mom makes the best New York Style Cheesecake, no cracks perfect every time.
12. Are you full yet? I know you are thinking two weeks, there can’t be more food, but hold on. I left room for surprises.

Along with my focus of getting the foods I grew up with and adore, I will be bringing my Southern supplies, rustling up some Southern food to show off my new found skills and love of Southern food. To my surprise the family has already requested a few meals.

I will be posting every day, as a means to stay sane.

A word of warning though. Should my writing style change, it is only a temporary set back and I will be normal once again upon my return home.  Please note my daughter M is in charge of making sure I take any meds that I might need to get through two weeks. I don’t drink, so meds are my only option in situations like this.

I am sure that I am not the only one that loves their family and yet at the same time wonders how on earth did they every come out of their home alive and resonably sane?

Somehow I always do and find my self yearning for the next visit.

Hitting the road, see you all in a couple of days.

Wish us safe driving.

Part of the intrigue of a Clafoutis is that I have never eaten it till I made one. I have no clue as to how they are suppose to taste. I also don’t have the making of one down pat. My second go around it was clear I still need to tweak the batter, a little to much of a flour taste for my liking.

The first go around was a total flop. The dog didn’t even like it, so that says something. Scout wouldn’t even give me a one bark for my first attempt. The husband gave me a growl after his first bite. No chance I was getting a one bark vote from him either.

How hard can this be, sugar, flour, eggs, milk or cream, a little lemon juice and zest poured on top of whatever fruit you have and pop it in the oven. Here I am trying to whip up a Clafoutis for “Hay Hay- It’s Donna Day- The Clafoutis Edition” singing the tune all excited and I flop. What a let down on my first attempt of a Banana Pecan Chocolate Clafoutis.

In fact it was so bad, the husband said please don’t ever make a Clafoutis again. That almost did it for me, as I have been in a crumble quick or fold quick mode. Besides Clafoutis’s aren’t Southern, I have no business messing around with something that is French.

Clafoutis’s are making the rounds on the blogs as we are coming up to “Hay Hay It’s Donna Day”- The Clafoutis Edition. They look so good I can almost taste them. The promise of a good taste is such a hook. Let’s face it, it’s a fun rhyme and a fun sounding name and my new found release from Retail Hell just beckons me to have fun. How could I not give this a try or two or three more till I get it just the way I imagine it should taste.

Back to the kitchen I went and whipped up one. They are that fast and easy to make. Not one month after my dismal failure where the husband said, please no more Clafoutis.

I gave him another Clafoutis.

This is wonderful what is it?

Boy, I would have been in a jam if it weren’t for my quick thinking.

Why dear it is a Calfoodie…….., I said.

What is a Calfoodie……….?

Ahhhhhhhhhhh, I don’t know but it’s Southern and you will like it.

Okay, two Clafoutis’s and I don’t know what one is. Sad, sad, sad…….I so need to get with it. But not as sad as the poor husband who know thinks he was served a Calfoodie………….for dessert.

You are right it is wonderful, he replied.

Well he really didn’t say wonderful, I just am a little tired of good as an adjective to describe my cooking, so I made up the wonderful part.

I held my tongue and smiled at the good, which quite frankly is a whole lot better than never ever make a Clafoutis again. Then I bit my tongue and winced as I watched him put………..no it is not vanilla ice cream which would be simply divine. Is he really putting Orange Chocolate Chip Sherbet on my Strawberry Rhubarb Clafoutis?

Oh my God, he is.

He saw me wince.

Are you going to tell everyone that I put Orange Chocolate Chip Sherbet on my Calfoodie………..?

No dear, I wouldn’t dream of letting the world know what you just did to my wonderful Calfoodie…………..

Wanting to cry at this point, I opted instead to choke back the tears and remind myself that he is such good writing material. Honestly, I couldn’t make this stuff up.

I am though, going to write the ice cream manufacturer and ask them to remove from the market shelves this gross concoction. My husband on the other hand, should be banned from every having one of my Calfoodies………… for putting such a gross concoction on it.

Being a wife that is all for second chances and keeping peace. I will just have to create a Calfoodie……… that so won’t go with Orange Chocolate Chip Sherbet. Nothing like a little outsmarting to fix the problem.

So, I am going back for another go or two to make a few changes in hopes that I can give this a Southern twist, and rather soon I might add. There is nothing Southern about a Clafoutis and this disappoints me as this is one of my new favorite foods. A few creative thoughts rolling around in my head and I might be on to a culinary creation that could bring a truly splendid Southern Calfoodie……… to my kitchen.

It is most unusual for me to write a post without a recipe. But I don’t have one that I am sold on yet. This Clafoutis was inspired by both Tartelette’s and Bron’s recipe.

Inspired by both, because I didn’t have the exact ingredients for either recipe, so I used a little of each.

Tartelette is a genius in the kitchen. Just one look at her site and you know it is going to be divine, grand, splendid, extraordinary and any other good word you can think of. Let me tell you, Mrs. Tartelette lives in the same city as I do. I have never had the pleasure of meeting her or tasting her food. It is sheer torture knowing that such exquisite desserts are right around the corner from me, sheer torture.

Tartelette uses a combination of corn starch and flour which I was out of, and I was not about to go to the store. Not being an expert, I am only guessing that the corn starch is a thickening agent without the heavy floury taste that one can get from a Clafoutis if not care-full. So I did an all flour version, which made it a little heavy which was not a surprise to me. What is a surprise is that most recipes call for all flour.

I was out of milk, so opted for cream as suggested by Bron. I had the lemon juice and grated zest as suggested by Tartelette. The lemon is a must in my book and I will use it in all my Clafoutis from now on. Every once in a while I got a piece of zest with my spoonful of Clafoutis and wow, was it fabulous. Especially if I got the lemon with some of the top sugary crusty part near the surface.

My Clafoutis did not get as brown as I wanted, so I sprinkled it with sugar and put it under the broiler for a minute or two. I did like the sugary crust that I got on top, and will most certainly finish them off this way in the future.

What’s next? Perhaps a peach Clafoutis with the addition of buttermilk sprinkled with chopped pecans. This is either going to be good or totally gross. This cook needs to take a few more risks, knowing that a risk might deliver a creation worth recording and remaking.

Besides; peaches, pecans, buttermilk how much more Southern can we be, except to call this dish a Calfoodie……..Who knows maybe I will start my own Hay Hay It’s a Calfoodie……………Day, and see what version of a Southern Calfoodie………… you all can come up with?

In fact one of the ways you can tell you are in the South is when you are on a road trip and you have just passed a peanut hut. You can put your road maps away; because you are in the South. A peanut hut is a better road marker than a road sign to tell you that you have just crossed the Mason-Dixon line. I suspect you can travel through the South just by way of a peanut marker if you had to. The only trouble one might have is when you are in search of the Peanut Man. Every town has a Peanut Man. You could end up in the wrong town depending on whom you ask, how do I find my way to the Peanut Man? That is unless he has a name.

You don’t want to know how many peanut huts and stands I have passed by in the 25 years I have lived in the South. Perhaps it was the thought of a salty dry peanut soaking up water outside over a pile of ashes that deterred me. Or maybe it was the card- board or plywood sign that said hot boiled peanuts that prevented me from putting my foot on the brakes and pulling over to stop.

But as life would have it, my occasional elitist attitude got in the way and I waited to eat my first boiled peanut in the refined and elegant city of Charleston of all places. Fate would tempt me as a co-worker brought a bag of boiled peanuts into work one day.

I saw her eating them and asked, what are you eating?

Boiled peanuts, she said.

You’ve got to be kidding, I blurted out.

Why, haven’t you ever eaten one? she replied.

No, can’t say that I have.

You’re kidding?

No I am not kidding.

Here have one, you’ve got to give this a try.

Uhhhhhhhhhhh no thank you.

I dare say, I was flabbergasted that she expected me to eat a soggy wet peanut while in a skirt and heels.

Aren’t boiled peanuts to be eaten in a beer joint or the side of the road when you are dressed in jeans, I asked?

And you want me to shell it myself? I further asked.

Why the shells are wet and the peanut is wet.

Won’t I ruin my nails?

Why would I want to eat a wet nut? I asked for further clarification.

Because they are good, she said.

While I am shelling this wet nut, I am thinking; honestly these people don’t know any better.

Jeans may be the appropriate attire for the Caviar of the South but eat one anyway, she said.

Well, why didn’t you say Caviar of the South in the first place?

I ate it.

Interesting, may I try another please?

Where do you get these?

You say, Tony the peanut man makes the best boiled peanuts.

Where is his roadside stand?

What time does he set up?

So, I can buy them on my way to work, you say.

Do you mind sharing a few more? I’ll bring in some tomorrow.

Skirt or no skirt, heels or no heels I hunted down Tony the peanut man and stocked up on my Southern Caviar. Sounds much better doesn’t it, Southern Caviar. Sort of refined and dignified. Never mind that sometimes you have to resort to using your teeth to pry these open. Then spit out any peanut shells stuck in your mouth.

I pulled up to Tony’s hut, hopped out of the car and went to the peanut counter.

Hi Tony, may I have three, no better make that five pounds of your spicy Southern Caviar please?

So when I run out, this is how I can find you? You are always in the same space? Thanks, Tony.

Now, I will say I was just a touch embarrassed to be seen hopping out of my fancy little sports car in a skirt and heels walking up to the peanut hut in broad daylight. So a little disguise; dark sunglasses, a scarf around my head and no one would suspect that it was me. I had no other choice but to go incognito. It wasn’t as if I was getting, say the two cup bag of these. No I was going to stock up. Walking back to the car with five pounds would not have been good for my reputation. Certainly not for a lady in heels and a skirt.

Don’t tell me. Most likely each and every one of you are thinking what a snob. Well I am not. I have spent many a day roughing it in the wilderness, carrying my own food on my back. I can search out the local grub with the best of you, lurking down side streets asking locals where to get the best this and the best that. It’s just that sometimes I get it in my head that a certain food just doesn’t sound good, and I avoid it. Boiled peanuts is one of those foods. They just seem so unattractive, until I met Tony the Peanut Man.

Tony changed things for me. I am different since tasting his creations. He doesn’t just make one flavor but a few. I am a spicy kinda girl. So I came to work that day armed with 5 lbs of the spicy brand. They are addictive, and with the high content of salt can cause some serious bloat if you don’t down some pop while eating them. Trust me on this one.Legend has it the way to really eat one of these nuts is to drop it in a RC soda and drink and eat at the same time. This is another one of those controversies, as another camp says it is the dry salted peanut that is dropped in a RC soda. My suggestion, try them both and see which one you like.

Tony has since moved from his downtown location. Rumor has it that he has made the big time. This means that there are lots of peanut huts around the Charleston area, with a Tony at every one of them. How did this guy find so many Tonys who want to work at a peanut hut? This guy is one savvy businessman.

If you can’t find Tony, or don’t live in the South and want to give these a try you have a couple of options. You may order them canned or order a kit. Try the Lee Brother’s catalog. They are from Charleston and have made the BIG time cooking scene just on their love of all that’s Southern, starting with boiled peanuts. If you want to try these at home here is a simple recipe. No, they don’t have to be cooked outside over coals in a cast iron cauldron.

Boiled Peanuts

2 cups peanuts, raw and in the shell

4 cups water

1 1/2 teaspoons of salt

Put the peanuts, in their shells, into a saucepan, add the water and salt, and bring to a boil. Reduce the heat to a good simmer and cook approximately 1 hour. Your peanuts are done when the kernel is swollen and fills the pod well. The taste of raw starch will have been dissipated. There is a hint of chewyness to the. Serve hot still in the shell, or cold after draining. Store leftovers if any, in the refrigerator.

Now a couple of important facts about boiled peanuts. First, Lloyd Walker, chair of Alabama A & M University’s Department of Food and Animal Sciences, co-authored a study on boiled peanuts. Their conclusion; boiled peanuts are high in phyochemicals that have antioxidant qualities that protect cells against the risk of degenerative diseases, including cancer, diabetes and heart disease. In other words those soggy nuts are good for you, better than their dried counterpart.

On a political note, on May 1, 2006, Governor Mark Sanford came to York County and officially signed into law, H.4585, to make the boiled peanut South Carolina’s official state snack food.

SECTION 1. The General Assembly finds that boiled peanuts are a delicious and popular snack food that are found both in stores and roadside stands across the State, and this unique snack food is defined as peanuts that are immersed in boiling water for at least one hour while still in the shell. The General Assembly further finds that this truly Southern delicacy is worthy of designation as the official state snack food.

So, there it is. It’s official. I can eat my boiled peanuts in broad daylight now without embarrassment or shame. If they are good enough for the Governor and fellow legislators that have made them the beloved snack food of the state, well then, they are good enough for me.

Except…………they left out this whole Caviar of the South wording. It so should have been included. Let’s face it. If the road side stands and huts had Caviar of the South on their signs instead of boiled peanuts, I might have put my foot on the brakes sooner. Perhaps I will write the Governor and see about having the bill amended.

]]> http://ayankeeinasouthernkitchen.com/2008/04/18/boiled-peanuts/feed/ 11 http://ayankeeinasouthernkitchen.com/2008/04/11/correction-to-tomato-basil-soup/ http://ayankeeinasouthernkitchen.com/2008/04/11/correction-to-tomato-basil-soup/#comments Fri, 11 Apr 2008 14:03:52 +0000 Kim Morgan http://goodfoodjustgotbetter.wordpress.com/?p=254 This is my first editorial correction for A Yankee in a Southern Kitchen.

The error has been brought to my attention by readers, family and the husband.

I wish to offer my sincere apology for failing to mention that my husband did in fact like the Tomato-Basil soup more than the canned soup that he is use to eating. My oversight was made inspite of the fact that my husband did ask me to mention this information on two separate occasions.

I did receive a very good compliment from him. This was in light of his cold, which in effect would make his compliment count as two compliments.

Progess was made in our home by the sincere enjoyment of my homemade soup over the canned version. That being said, the canned tomato soup is still on our shelf with 3 years, 2 days till it expires at which time I can throw it away, if I can manage to keep him from opening it with a can-opener before the expiration date.

If I have caused my husband any undue hardship because of my editorial oversight. I will be glad to make it up to him, by keeping my mouth quiet when he douses my macaroni & cheese with ketchup.

Here is the little that I know about this tasty stew that is considered to be a traditional side dish when serving a barbecue. In fact, should you attend a barbecue and your hosts are not serving a small bowl of Brunswick Stew to go with it; be suspicious. Most likely you have not been invited to the home of a true Southerner. True Southerners know better. Anthony Bourdain knows better. I am sure that Anthony not only has eaten Brunswick Stew at all the barbecues he has attended; I would be willing to bet he ate Brunswick Stew made with squirrel.

More bad news. If you didn’t get Brunswick Stew with your barbecue. You not only were deprived of dining at a real Southern home, you weren’t at a real barbecue. This means you can forget bragging about your culinary experience when you return home from your trip. Someone will catch on, especially when they ask, was there a squirrel in your Brunswick Stew?

I know you are dying to hear about the squirrel, aren’t you? Did she dare cook this stew originally made with squirrel, with a squirrel? Nope! I must say not because I didn’t try. My failure was not because I couldn’t find a squirrel. If you look out my back yard or front yard, in fact you can see tons of squirrels. But this stew was cooked without a squirrel because my dog Scout couldn’t catch one. This fast and mighty Springer Spaniel has gained too much weight because of my cooking and he is slow, slow, slow…… I almost hate to mention it. Scout is shamelessly lying with his head in the corner out of defeat. It is quite obvious that he is devastated. It seems only a year or so ago that he was in tip top shape and was this close…….. to catching one of those little buggers. Even the old ones out ran him yesterday. It was just awful. And of course, I was of no help to Scout. I can’t run for beans. It seems like only yesterday that I too, was in tip top shape.

So here is the longover due quick history lesson. The only location with official written documentation to prove they made this stew first. Goes to……………..Richmond, Virginia! Yes, Uncle Jimmy Matthews first prepared this stew in Brunswick County to feed a large hunting party. The main ingredient: squirrel. I am not kidding either. Those wealthy farmers were out hunting for game of all sorts, and after a long hard day in the woods, they come home to a stew made with squirrel in it-lots of squirrels. They either had no sense or were lousy hunters.

Next town in the stew argument; Brunswick, Georgia. Brunswick swears they are the hometown of this stew. On July 4th in 1898 they made an official claim saying so. They even have the original pot mounted at the Welcome Center to prove it. You can smell the stew for miles. Of course we can’t have a good argument without the Tar-heels, can we? They say that Brunswick County, North Carolina is the official hometown of this stew. Their reasoning? They created barbecue. Any respectable barbecue has Brunswick Stew served with it. They say it makes sense that they would have created the stew to serve with the barbecue. Now my question to them is the following: If in fact this stew originated with you as a side to accompany the big juicy large pig roasts that make a fabulous barbecue, then why would you make a stew with scrawny squirrels? If this recipe did originate with you. I dare say, you have no sense or some cook was playing a joke on you and you too them seriously.

Now that the history lesson is out of the way, let us move on to cooking a good Brunswick Stew. First question, how am I going to cook my stew without a squirrel? Well, being smart and able to read a current recipe, I substituted chicken. In fact at the turn of the century (not 2000, the century before,) someone had the sense to leave out the squirrels included in the original recipe, and thank goodness. I am still flabbergasted at the thought of squirrels in my Brunswick Stew. Squirrels are all tail. Just look at my squirrel pictures I’ve posted. They only eat nuts. How could anyone think they would make a stew tasty?

Having secretly kept it under lock and key for over 20 years now, I have the killer of all Southern Brunswick Stew recipes in my possession. My recipe is tattered and torn, with lots of smudge marks. The marks of a treasured recipe. Not bad for a Yankee, huh? But, it is not the stew I made yesterday, for two good reasons. The first being, my recipe includes a whole pork rump cooked on the grill and my grill is kaput. The second reason is that my recipe requires a whole bottle of ketchup. I did not have it in me to cook with ketchup. This is light of the crushing blow I spoke about two days earlier. For those that haven’t read my ham post, my mother informed me that she puts ketchup in my beloved ham spread. Cooking with ketchup is to traumatic for me.

Here is a recipe for the runner up Brunswick Stew. This recipe is courtesy of James Villas, The Glory of Southern Cooking. James is a Southerner. He thinks this is the best stew he has ever eaten. Apparently he has eaten a lot of stew. He is most confident that his stew is the best. Well, wait till he tries my stew. One taste and I am positive that he will get the appropriate papers signed that will make me an official Southerner. Just as soon as my grill is up and running.

Brunswick Stew

James Villas; The Glory of Southern Cooking

1/2 cup vegetable oil

One 4-pound chicken(preferably a hen), quartered

1 cup chopped onions

1 cup chopped celery (leaves included)

1 medium ham hock

3 large ripe tomatoes

1 small red chili pepper, seeded and minced

salt and freshly ground pepper to taste

paprika to taste

2 1/2 quarts water

1 1/2 cups each corn kernels, sliced okra, Lima beans (fresh or frozen)

1 1/2 cups mashed potatoes

• In a large stock pot, heat 1/4 cup oil over moderate heat and brown the chicken.
• Transfer to a large plate.
• Heat the remaining oil and over moderate heat, add the onions, celery and cook about 2 minutes.
• Add the browned chicken, ham hock, tomatoes, chili pepper, salt and pepper, paprika and water.
• Bring to a boil, reduce the heat to low, cover and simmer 1 hour.
• Remove the chicken from the pot with a slotted spoon, and simmer the mixture 1 hour longer.
• When the chicken is cool, skin, bone and shred the meat, set aside.
• Bring the mixture in the pot to a boil, add the corn, okra and lima beans , reduce heat and simmer for 30 minutes.
• Stir from time to time so it doesn’t stick.
• Remove the ham hock and shred the meat.
• Put shredded chicken and ham hock back in the pot along with the mashed cooked potatoes.
• Simmer for about 15 minutes till nicely thickened.
• Serve with biscuits or cornbread alone or as a side dish with barbecue.

Cooks Note: James says, he hasn’t seen a squirrel used to make this stew since he was a child. Even though it appears modern day cooks are not cooking with squirrels anymore. If I were you, I would take precautions. When served this wonderful hearty stew. I would ask, is there a squirrel in my Brunswick Stew?

]]> http://ayankeeinasouthernkitchen.com/2008/04/04/is-there-a-squirrel-in-my-brunswick-stew/feed/ 9 http://ayankeeinasouthernkitchen.com/2008/04/02/a-tale-of-two-ham-spreads/ http://ayankeeinasouthernkitchen.com/2008/04/02/a-tale-of-two-ham-spreads/#comments Wed, 02 Apr 2008 13:14:35 +0000 Kim Morgan http://goodfoodjustgotbetter.wordpress.com/?p=216 Leftover Easter ham like leftover Thanksgiving turkey are prized at my home and for good reason. A good sandwich made with the remnants of holiday trimmings is one of the best parts of a holiday celebration. Ultimately though, after a few days of a good ham sandwich we become weary of the same food choice. We are faced with a dilemma of sorts as we once again stare at the ham and say, now what do I do with you, perhaps a hearty soup with big ham chunks?

There is so much more to life than succumbing to a rut and well so much more to a ham. Once you have tasted these savory spreads you will find yourself wondering how you missed out all these years. Getting caught in a routine of making the same old thing is a time saver without risk and without promise. It’s familiar and you can trust it will be good. But a routine and a treasured recipe leaves you without adventure and the possibility of finding a new treasured recipe. Frankly there are a host of simply divine food options that await our discovery and enjoyment. I have come to the conclusion life is too short to miss out on the unknown;though I still yearn to eat what is familiar. It is the adventure of what I haven’t tasted that excites me and keeps me motivated on my journey while waiting for God’s call.

I have two leftover solutions depending on whether you live above or below the Mason-Dixon line. Not one to mix politics with food or with anything else for that matter. I find myself seriously torn between my beloved ham spread that I grew up eating in the North and my new-found ham spread that I just discovered in the South. I can not choose a favorite. They are very different even though they start out the same in the initial preparation. It is only when you come to the crossroads of dividing the ground mixture into two separate bowls that they take on their own flavor. Each bowl is finished with their chosen ingredients that makes the spreads unique. They begin to take shape as two different ham spreads with two different textures and two different tastes, which now leaves me with two different favorites. The next time a ham graces my kitchen and I am staring at the remnants hugging the bone,what am I going to do?

Well unable to make a decision and not wanting to burn my bridges up North or down South. I have decided to pledge allegiance to both ham spreads. Its the only logical political and culinary choice I can make.

Fully aware I have committed to cooking Southern for a year. I am using one of my free cards on this simple Northern concoction that brings back childhood memories. We somehow ended up with a ham during the summer one year. I was about 10 years old at the time. The first time I tasted this spread was after a morning swimming in our pool in the backyard. Our mother came from the kitchen with a tray of homemade bread covered with the ham spread; toasty and bubbly hot from the oven. The mere thought causes me to drool faster than my dog Scout can. I have no idea where the recipe came from, it just magically appeared that one afternoon. Consequently it has been made by my family for over 40 years now, causing my children to await the end of a ham with excitement.

Though it might be early in the year to use one of my 12 free cards, it was a wise decision and I haven’t given it a second thought. Lucky for you because I am willing to divulge the secret recipe for this Northern ham spread.

Now the last thing I want to do is start ruining my reputation as a possible candidate for being a Southerner. This has prompted me to take action and my home is now proudly displaying the white flag of truce. The flag will be up till the ham spread is finished, which could be sooner than later at the rate I am eating it.

With two ham spreads in hand, I decided to treat myself to a little Sunday buffet. I was alone over the weekend while my husband was out of town. Setting the buffet with linens was my first step in creating a leisurely afternoon. Even though lemons are a bit so so at the market, I decided to fix a pitcher of freshly squeezed lemonade. My two ham spreads followed with a salad of baby arugula lightly drizzled with a citrus vinaigrette was perfect, if I do say so myself. Oh, and lest we not forget the Chive Bacon biscuits that were also made for this meal.

After dining, I sat down to re-watch the documentary Laundry and Tosca. This is a must to see. I will talk more about it next post when I share the Biscuit and freshly squeezed Lemonade recipes. If you ever wondered about using the gifts God has blessed you with. Learning to live your life to the fullest without any promise other than the no regrets promise. This film is for you. Please come back to learn more about this moving short documentary Laundry and Tosca.

Here is what you need to do with your leftover ham. When you get down to the last 1/4 of your ham stop eating it. This is the best part of the ham because you are going to cut off the meat and chop it finely in your food processor till it is a nice consistency. Then split it up into two sections, one for the North and one for the South. Equal portions here as we are not to show favoritism.

Yankee Ham Spread

Adapted from my mother’s recipe without her permission…

Leftover Ham in big cubes

1/2 onion in chunks

6 ounces finely grated extra sharp cheddar

1/2 to 2/3 cup mayonnaise

salt and pepper to taste

Grind the ham and onion in the food processor till it resembles a coarse meal. Add the grated cheddar and mix till blended. Slowly add the mayonnaise till you have a nice consistency.

Toast bread in a broiler or toaster oven, remove then spread mixture on top covering the edges. Broil till hot and bubbly. Add fresh pepper if desired. This is so simple that it almost sounds boring and yucky, you should know me well enough to trust me on this as it is Delicious!

COOKS NOTE: Much to my horror, when I spoke to my mom about the accuracy of my memory on how to prepare the ham spread. I discovered that I have been making this recipe all these years eliminating the key ingredient. My horror was in response to what my mother said was the key ingredient. My mother, whom I hold in the highest culinary esteem has all but shattered my image of her. Much as it pains me to disclose this information out of embarassement, I feel I must. It appears that the key ingredient is ……………………..KETCHUP! All I could think of, was how could she? Ketchup of all things. I cried out to her, not my favorite ham spread, please don’t let it be so mom? I asked again, and she emphatically confirmed my worst fears; yes Kim, add ketchup to the recipe. Of course, I rebelled and no ketchup was added. I have lived for the last 30 years making this spread by my failed memory without ketchup. Why change? If you want to listen to my mother and add ketchup, you are on your own. You get no help from me.

Southern Deviled Ham Spread

Adapted; Gourmet Magazine January 2008

Use the other half of the ham and onion from above

3 large sweet gherkins

1/2 cup toasted pecans

1 tsp Dijon mustard

1 teaspoon Tabasco sauce

1/4 cup mayonnaise

1/4 cup chopped parsley

Add chopped gherkins, pecan, chopped parsley and other ingredients to ham mixture. Chill, serve spread on a good bread or biscuit.

Coming soon, as in a day or so. A simple recipe for an absolutely divine freshly squeezed lemonade and Chive & Bacon biscuits, aka the adapted Flying Biscuit recipe;that is above any other biscuit recipe I have ever had.

]]> http://ayankeeinasouthernkitchen.com/2008/04/02/a-tale-of-two-ham-spreads/feed/ 7 http://ayankeeinasouthernkitchen.com/2008/04/01/pecan-cheese-biscuits-the-backbone-of-a-southern-party/ http://ayankeeinasouthernkitchen.com/2008/04/01/pecan-cheese-biscuits-the-backbone-of-a-southern-party/#comments Tue, 01 Apr 2008 12:21:16 +0000 Kim Morgan http://goodfoodjustgotbetter.wordpress.com/?p=195 Apparently, these Pecan-Cheese Biscuits are the backbone of any respectable Southern cocktail party or afternoon tea. This is easily understood, once you have had the pleasure of trying one. These biscuits are rich and buttery with just a hint of cayenne pepper,and still small enough not to be heavy or burdensome.

You would think that having lived in the South all these years I would have come across them sooner. Apparently, as well as missing God’s calling, I have also missed these biscuits; a theme I am trying to avoid from now on. Whatever the reason, I was deprived of the most perfect tidbits, which I’ve found are perfect for keeping on hand tucked away in a tin. These biscuits, along with the crock of Pimento Cheese and the Southern Pound Cake (that I now have in my pantry) should establish me as a true Southerner, should a guest stop by. At least Southern in spirit-which I think is part of God’s purpose in pushing me to take this sabbatical from my life.

Having traditional foods on hand is one of the things that sets the South apart from the rest of the country. Southerners make time for the simple moments that seem to escape the rest of us. Let’s face it, who has time to sit on a porch in the afternoon chatting with a friend, while sipping sweet tea or lemonade? Let alone, having food on hand that was prepared just for this type of pleasure? A pleasure that wasn’t necessarily just in case; because someone always stopped by for a chat. It appears this is a way of life, respite from the afternoon sun and a day’s work. When I think back to why I moved to Charleston, one of the reasons was because it was a refined, proper city. If I was asked at that time what I meant, I don’t think I could have answered with any intelligence. But, somehow I knew it was so.

This recipe (or a version of it) has been around for generations, and I suspect that every true Charlestonian has their own tattered recipe which they swear is the real McCoy. After looking at many recipes, and as I began to regain confidence in the kitchen once again,I made a change or two after making a few batches of these. Now I have my own recipe ready to be tattered and smudged after years of loving preparation.

I felt like a part of my community making them; like I had just officially joined a Southern club or something that recognizes my attempt to learn more about my newly appreciated Southern home. In fact, I gifted a few bags of these treats to businesses in the area as a way to say, Hi, I am a caterer. Enjoy these treats! I planned to stop by again in the next with a menu. However, less than an hour and a half later, I received an order for 1500 of these tidbits, along with a few other specialty items. Perhaps I am on to something. Maybe God has not given out the really successful culinary Pecan-Cheese Biscuit career to someone yet! Things are looking a little brighter in the kitchen this week.

Not only do these biscuits taste divine, but I witnessed a miracle first-hand upon making them. I am aware that this is the second food warning I will issue this month, and I do not want to be an alarmest, but feel everyone should be aware: this biscuit is not only addictive but doubles as a cure for the human frown! Not to mention, the best thing this side of the Mason-Dixon line, no kidding. One bite of these and the first thought in your head is: What else is cookin? There is something mysterious and hypnotic about them. I wouldn’t believe it either if I didn’t witness it myself, first-hand. Everyone who ate one (my dog Scout included) took a small bite as if with trepidation. They were tiny, unassuming little bites with pecan bits peeking out through them. But, after seeing everyone take their first bite, then slowly savoring the flavor as it melted, I knew I did well. First, I got a big sigh from the tasters. Then another bite was taken, this time it was followed by a big smile, the kind of smile that you can’t stop even if you wanted to.

Yep, even the silent husband was forced to give a smile while eating one of these biscuits. A big smile at that! Despite his concerted efforts to hold back yet again, as experienced by the Lemon Glazed Pound Cake he sampled only minutes before hand. My pound cake, although recluctant to admit was met with defeat; I only received It’s good from my hubby’s monotone voice. It appears he is not fond of cake or so he said. Not the Southern Pecan-Cheese Biscuits though! No, they received a jubilant response, as there was no holding back in my kitchen while eating them. Dare I say, that it killed him to acknowledge my food with such enthusiasm? Maybe? But frankly, he couldn’t help himself!

In an effort to improve my marriage, I am keeping these biscuits on hand. One frowned look or stiff face of silence and I am opening up this tin, ready to offer my husband a snack or nibble. Whether he is offered one or many will depend upon his mood at the time. I will have to adjust the dosage and will trust my instincts when the time comes. Frankly, I think I have happened upon a secret weapon of sorts. Perhaps I could market these as a Frownie Biscuit or a Smiley Biscuit and come to the aid of housewives across America. I certainly can’t be the only woman with these marital woes in need of a quick remedy that can be on hand in times of trouble.

Without further ado, here is the recipe which I adapted from James Villa’s cookbook.

This recipe was made two times, with changes both times. I altered the recipe by chopping toasted pecans rather than placing a pecan half on each biscuit. I figured the former would give these a little more low country uptown look. A little sophistication never hurt anyone. Also, the consistency of the dough was hard to roll into balls to then press flat, as the recipe instructed. The next go around I opted to make them like a rolled cookie; the result? Perfection! When made this way, they looked and tasted better. They were crispier and more savory when sliced.

I must confess that I don’t always feel comfortable experimenting while baking. I’m just a touch intimidated- as it is so much easier to experiment when cooking. I forged ahead anyway, with my new found confidence and the result was a good pat on my back for getting out on a limb.

Pecan-Cheese Biscuits

Adapted James Villas; The Glory of Southern Cooking

1/2 pound (2 sticks) butter, at room temperature

7 ounces extra-sharp white cheddar cheese, finely grated then brought to room temperature

2 ounces imported Parmigiano or Parmigiano-Reggiano finely grated

1/4 tsp sea salt

Two big dashes of cayenne pepper

2 cups all-purpose flour

6 ounces chopped toasted pecans

• Preheat the oven to 350F
• Prepare a baking sheet with parchment paper (dab a spot of butter on tray so paper sticks to sheet)
• In a large mixing bowl, combine the butter, cheeses, salt, and cayenne pepper and mix with your hands till well blended.
• Add the flour gradually and mix with your hands till firm and smooth, adding a little more flour if the mixture is too sticky.
• Cut 5 sheets of parchment or wax paper
• Divide dough into 5
• Roll each section into a log about 1inch thick on paper, when smooth and round roll up in paper and seal ends. Repeat with all pieces and keep in refrigerator at least 5 hours till firm
• Slice into 1/4 inch rounds and put on prepared sheet about 1/2 inch apart and bake until done about 16-20 minutes.
• Begin checking at 16 minutes then every 2 minutes thereafter, till lightly toasted.
• Cool on a wire rack
• Store biscuits in tightly sealed tins for up to 2 weeks.

But wait don’t go, even though I am forced to talk about my meatloaf, we are actually going to eat Southern Baked Tomatoes with Crusty Bread. This simple aromatic recipe was just perfect for a light dinner along with a salad of field greens. But first the story.

Progress was made as my husband broke his wall of silence and spoke to me the other evening. I was sitting in the living room reading when he said,

Kim……….

I said, Yes……….at which point I looked up and saw him in front of the refrigerator with the door opened and my homemade meatloaf in hand. This was going to be the moment, when he finally came to his senses and said to me, Kim your cooking is wonderful, I love your meatloaf, you are utterly fantastic and I am the luckiest guy in the whole state of South Carolina, instead he said,

Did you buy this meatloaf at Whole Foods?

NO………..

Oh…………………

How can this be? My husband breaks his silence with nine words; none of which contain a compliment in them and should you ask how I came up with nine words, I am including Oh whether it is proper English or not!

More importantly, how is it possible that my husband a Meat & Potato’s guy not know my meatloaf? I have dated men for less than three months that notice that I have a quirky habit of only drinking a half a cup of coffee before I refill it. Always leaving a half of a cup when done. A habit that I didn’t even know I had till it was pointed out by an attentive admirer before I married my husband, he thought it was cute.

How can my husband who I have cooked for four years not know my meatloaf? The special ketchup sauce my mom created with the signature bacon draping across the top would tip anyone off that I made the meatloaf. This is a guy who has back-up ketchup in a few places in the pantry. Not to mention; when did I ever buy a meatloaf or anything else that might resemble a meatloaf, when I make a great, no let me take that back a fantastic meatloaf?

It is a good thing I have Scout around as my trusty canine friend came to the rescue once again, howled at least ten words, while he drooled before even tasting my meatloaf. God bless my dog, who has withstood some tough culinary pressure of late.

I am trying to keep some peace, to grow as a wife spiritually so I opted not to retort with a snide remark, hoping that once he ate my meatloaf his memory would be jogged or pried or something that would have reminded him whose meatloaf he was actually eating.

No such luck, not a word, nothing.

I am miffed; I love this man but let me tell you I am in big trouble. I need to find a crew to cook for and quick. Frustration between my husband and waiting for God is mounting; and my dog is gaining weight faster than he can run it off.

So what am I going to do? I must confess my first thought was to make another meatloaf. Maybe if I made my meatloaf day after day, he might figure out whose meatloaf he was eating. Instead, I have decided to go on a meatloaf strike. No meatloaf for a year. That’s right, he missed out because my mom’s secret recipe is tucked away for a year while I am on my Southern sabbatical. If he really wants a meatloaf I am sure he can buy one at Whole Foods.

As an extra measure while I am praying for my calling and other important things. I am asking God to please give my husband a new appreciation for food and what I am passionate about. Certain that there is not a prayer limit in heaven, with some Angel keeping score of what we ask for. I am pressing forward in faith with all my petitions to God. What gets answered, well I guess I will have to wait and see.

In the meantime, back to the kitchen once again, and perhaps this time as I try to find my way back home, my husband might find his way home to the love in the kitchen that he is missing.

Southern Baked Tomatoes with Crusty Bread

Adapted Recipe: Scott Peacock, Gourmet Magazine January 2008

1 (28oz) can whole tomatoes in juice

1/2 stick unsalted butter

1 medium onion chopped

1 garlic clove

1/16 teaspoon ground allspice

1/16 teaspoon ground cloves

1/2 teaspoon dried thyme

1 tablespoon light brown sugar

4 (1/2) inch slices of a good quality bread such as a pullman loaf

• Preheat Oven to 425F degrees with rack in middle. Butter a 8 or 9 ” pan with butter.
• Drain tomatoes, reserving juice, then chop.
• Heat 2 Tablespoons butter in a heavy pan, then cook onions with 1/4 tsp salt, stirring occasionally, until golden brown, about 10 minutes.
• Add garlic, allspice, and cloves and cook, stirring 1 minute.
• Stir in tomatoes with reserved juice, thyme, brown sugar, and 1/4 teaspoon pepper and briskly simmer, uncovered, stirring occasionally, until thickened about 20 minutes.
• Meanwhile melt remaining butter and brush both sides of bread. Halve each slice.
• Transfer tomato mixture to baking pan and top with bread overlapping slightly.
• Bake until hot and bubbling and bread is crisp golden brown, about 15 to 20 minutes.

The next day, I reheated this in the microwave for about 1 minute to get it warm. Then popped it in the oven to bake for about 10 minutes. Almost as good as the first night. Made a great lunch.

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