I’m not one of those people who’s at a loss for what to cook. I have a repertoire of favorites and a list as long as my arm of new things I want to try. This is not bragging. There are plenty of things I do not have: Children. A Pulitzer Prize. Thin thighs. Yet on some nights even I don’t have it in me to start whirling around the kitchen like a culinary dervish. On those nights, I just want something delicious to appear on my plate. But there’s no takeout up here, remember? So I like to store a few tricks up my sleeve. Nothing wrong with a little help from your friends, though I can’t recommend fast food. Nor canned food, for that matter. Not to harsh your mellow, but do you know about the epoxy liners in most cans? They’re made with Bisphenol A (BPA), a chemical that can mimic human estrogen and is linked to breast cancer and early puberty in women. (The horror, the horror.) The Environmental Working Group tested canned food bought across America and found BPA in more than half, at levels they call “200 times the government’s traditional safe level of exposure for industrial chemicals.” So much for those canned beans, my darlings.

master class

Luckily for us, Agrodolce for Fast Foodies has created the delicious and glass-bottled Master Stock. It’s an intense mix of soy sauce, yellow rock sugar and Shaoxing Rice Wine that is boiled and infused with fresh garlic, ginger and spices. Slightly sweet and slightly salty, you can use it to successfully braise chicken, duck, beef, lamb and pork. The Australian chef responsible for this witchy brew, Prue Barrett, explains that “unlike other stocks and sauces, it’s not discarded after use. It’s simply boiled, strained and frozen for the next time. So while the meat absorbs the flavors of the stock, the meat also imparts its own flavor into the stock making it more rich and complex with each use.” Talk about sustainable cooking! The Agrodolce site includes a couple of nice recipes:  one for salmon, and one for crispy-skin chicken. (And check out their other products while you’re at it.)

into the drink

I’ve used Master Stock for poaching skinless chicken breasts, and the directions are right on the bottle. Plunk in the boobs, bring to a boil, simmer and then cool in the liquid. That’s it. They emerge juicy and flavorful, with a decidedly Asian accent.

oh boy, bok choy

I like to serve them with a little brown rice and a quick stir-fry of bok choy and wood ear mushrooms.

they really do feel a little too much like ears

These mushrooms are pretty easy to find dried, but recently I have come across the fresh ones. They are incredibly cool! Velvety on one side and slick on the other, and the most gorgeous tortoise-shell hue, reminiscent of Titi, my sweet kitty.

wok on by

Stir-fry is just a catch-all term for throwing things in a skillet and sauteing them quickly over relatively high heat. Once you get it down, you can get all bold and creative, tossing in all manner of things, from pea pods to bean sprouts to celery to cashews. There’s not much to get down, really. The thing to know is that ingredients often have a different optimal cook time. So you start with the things that take longer, and gradually add the rest.

cilantro and scallions

I poach the chicken breasts, and while that’s happening, I make some short-grain brown rice and stir-fry the vegetables. I serve it garnished with a lot of chopped scallions and cilantro. Maybe a little chile oil drizzled on top. Simple, fast, delicious. Oh, and healthy. Of course. You know me by now.

short order cooking

So easy, you don’t even need a recipe. What? Tell you exactly how to make that stir-fry? OK, but then you’re on your own, kid.

Just a month ago, I was waxing poetic to you about wings. If you still haven’t made a batch, I want to urge you to give it a whirl. They’re delightful as an hors d’oeuvre or snack, but they’re also great as the centerpiece of a meal. I know my way is more involved than simply coating them in barbecue sauce and sticking them in the oven, but that doesn’t begin to do them justice. To get the perfect combination of rich, silky meat and crisp, sticky skin, you really need to add in a couple more steps. You don’t need to get all crazy like David Chang, who brines his wings, then poaches them in duck fat, then smokes them and then grills them. Although they’re sublime. I’ll let you skip the smoking step. But brining, poaching and grilling is the way to go. None of it requires much attention, but you’ll snap to when you bite into your winged masterpiece.

wings are a little appreciated bird part, so show them some love

In last month’s post I included a link to a little tutorial on how to take apart your chicken wings; turns out you could only access it if you’re a Cook’s Illustrated subscriber. Which, of course, I am, but you may not be. So here’s a demo I found on YouTube. I use my kitchen shears, but if you have a nice sharp knife it should be that easy. (Try not to look at the guy’s fingernails, hairy knuckles or creepy blue cutting board.) Rinse them, pat them dry with paper towels and lay them out on a baking sheet. Big, sturdy baking sheets like these are your friends in the kitchen. Get you some.

Once you’ve taken apart your wings, you’re going to brine them for a few hours in a salt-sugar solution. Don’t ask questions, just do it. It really does make a difference.

tare looks like an oil slick

David Chang is into tare. He gushes about it in Lucky Peach, as it’s a key component to many of his dishes. Essentially it’s just a sweetened soy marinade that’s used a lot in Japanese cooking. The nice thing about this wings recipe, is that you use the little wingtips (that I would normally toss in a ziploc and freeze until I need them for making stock) to build a flavor base for the tare.

don’t wing it: follow the recipe

You may remember me telling you about poaching my chicken before grilling it for this Thai dish. The same principle is at work here. If the meat is cooked slowly first, you can blast it with high heat for a short time to get that fabulous crispy exterior. Otherwise, so often you wind up with undercooked meat or burnt skin, or worse: both. With this technique and you are guaranteed success. If the idea of poaching in fat (or oil) bums you out (and I don’t think it should), you can substitute a flavorful stock, as I did with the Thai chicken. It’s not quite the same thing, but it works.

these are ume plums, pickled with shiso leaves

To accompany these wings, I made a crunchy slaw that’s packed with tangy flavor. I hit upon the idea when I was trawling through the fridge for Japanese ingredients. I came across a huge jar of pickled ume. These are a species of Asian tree plums that are super popular, often eaten pickled. If you ever see “ume-shiso roll” on the menu when you’re eating sushi, try it! The pickled ume are an incredible combination of sweet-salty-sour that will leave your tongue tingling. Usually they are pickled with shiso leaves which have a distinctive almost minty flavor. Super addictive.

i slaw what you did this summer

The flesh of the pickled plums becomes very soft and velvety, perfect to be whipped into a dressing for this slaw of cabbage, scallions and cilantro. You can throw this together in a matter of minutes. With the wings and maybe a little steamed rice, you have a dinner that will have people licking their fingers…and your feet.

As for the prayer? Let’s each say one to whatever divinity or higher power we turn to in times of distress, to deliver us from our national crisis, to right our government, and to set this country on a path toward greater equity, less poverty and justice for all.

I never was much into wings. My friend Busby always sang their praises when she wasn’t going on about California Pizza Kitchen or Popeye’s fried chicken. They just never seemed meaty enough to me, and I hadn’t yet developed a fondness for eating things off the bone. But G has a passion for wings, and in learning to make them for him, I fell for them. That happens sometimes, doesn’t it? Indifference turns to pleasure and life just gets that much better. Now I understand how succulent, how crispy yet gooey, how caramelized and packed with flavor are these little wings. No wonder they make such great stock. Did you ever sample David Chang’s wings at Momofuku Noodle Bar? I’m not sure he still serves them but they were insane. I think they were poached, then smoked and then finished on the grill. (Here’s an adapted recipe which I may try sometime.) The point is, don’t just throw your wings under the broiler and expect them to be great. They have a fair amount of fat, so one great technique is to poach them first and then finish them in a very hot oven. Marinating them overnight or even for a few hours does wonders. They pair beautifully with strong flavors like garlic, ginger and chile, and a little something to help them caramelize like soy sauce, honey or maple syrup.

note the feline friend lurking hopefully in the background

Wings are very popular with guys. And with kitties. There’s the Buffalo wing, of course, but that’s a bit over the top. Fried and then sauced and then doused with blue cheese? Not my style. I do a version marinated in sherry vinegar, garlic and spicy smoked paprika that is divine. But lately we tried some with ginger and miso that were really good.

i try to recycle ziploc bags over and over

Large Ziplocs are great for marinating because they let you rearrange the wings easily so every surface gets coated. Put the whole thing in a bowl, though, in case of any leaks. Another tip is to line your baking sheet with parchment paper. This makes clean-up much more pleasant. And, finally, for recipes that don’t include a step that uses the wing tips, be sure to save them in your freezer and add them to your homemade stock.

If you haven’t made wings before and are uncertain how to break them down, here is a great step-by-step diagram from Cook’s Illustrated.

Remember that glorious tasso ham we smoked up for the latest Charcutepalooza challenge? (Read all about it here.) Well, I found a classic way to use it that really maximizes its smoky, spicy flavor. I came across a recipe for jambalaya by Chef Paul Prudhomme, the Louisiana legend whose blackened entrees were horribly bastardized by chain restaurants in the 80s. According to the Oxford English Dictionary, “jambalaya” comes from the Provençal word “jambalaia,” meaning a mish-mash or mix-up, and also a pilau (pilaf) of rice. Originally a humble combination of rice and vegetables, it has evolved into a rich expression of local New Orleans cuisine. There are two types of jambalaya: Creole, also known as “red jambalaya,” which contains tomatoes and is usually made with chicken and smoked meat; and Cajun, “brown jambalaya,” without tomatoes, which is more characteristic of southwestern Louisiana. The Creole version, which originates from New Orleans’ French quarter, was undoubtedly influenced by Spanish paella. As saffron was scarce, tomatoes were added for their vibrant color. Ultimately, Caribbean spices and the addition of tasso ham or andouille sausage make this a dish unique unto itself.

tasso ham is a misnomer since it’s actually made from pork butt (aka shoulder)

I admit I strayed a bit from the recipe because I simply cannot bear green peppers. I don’t think I’ve eaten one since about 1985 when I had my last bite of college cafeteria food. This dish did not suffer one bit without their bitter, acrid flavor. What it does have is plenty of aromatics and spice: bay leaves, thyme, sage, white and cayenne peppers, not to mention the peppery rub from the tasso.

i used basmati rice and canned tomatoes

Chef Paul suggests converted rice, but I don’t keep any Uncle Ben’s on hand. Converted rice is brown rice that has been soaked, steamed under pressure, and then dried and milled to a sort of beige color. It’s a bit less starchy than white rice and has more nutrition, but it’s not as slow-cooking as brown. Anyway, I used basmati and the same amount of liquid called for in the recipe (I actually used duck stock), and the results were beautifully fluffy (and not especially “crunchy” as specified). There’s chicken in there, and carrots and celery, but I have to tell you, it’s the tasso that really makes it. It’s got that porky,  low-country, lip-smacking taste. Maybe andouille works just as well, but as of this jambalaya, I’m a tasso convert. This dish is as easy as pie. (Why do they say that anyway? We all know pie crust is a bitch.) For jambalaya, you simply sauté a few things, then mix them up with rice and stock and pop the whole mess in the oven. When you go back an hour later, dinner’s ready. Bon temps rouler!

By the way, I love how he offers this recipe as an appetizer or a main course, and suggests you mold it into portions. What do you think would follow this as a second course? Blackened redfish?

it’s a gorgeous medley of flavors and colors

CHICKEN AND TASSO JAMBALAYA

from Chef Paul Prudhomme’s Louisiana Kitchen

serves 4 as a main course, 8 as an appetizer

Seasoning mix:

2 whole bay leaves

2 teaspoons ground red pepper (preferably cayenne)

1 1/2 teaspoons salt

1 1/2 teaspoons white pepper

1 teaspoon dried thyme leaves

1/2 teaspoon black pepper

1/4 teaspoon rubbed sage

2 tablespoons unsalted butter

1/2 pound chopped tasso (preferred), about 2 cups

3/4 pound boneless chicken, cut into bite-size pieces, about 2 cups

1 cup chopped onions, in all

1 cup chopped celery, in all

1 cup chopped green bell peppers, in all

1 tablespoon minced garlic

1/2 cup canned tomato sauce

1 cup peeled and chopped tomatoes

2 1/2 cups chicken stock

1 1/2 cups uncooked rice (preferably converted)

Combine the seasoning mix ingredients in small bowl and set aside.

Melt the butter in a 2-quart saucepan over high heat. Add the tasso and cook until meat starts to brown, about 3 minutes, stirring frequently. Add chicken and continue cooking until chicken is brown, about 3 to 5 minutes, stirring frequently and scraping pan bottom well. Stir in the seasoning mix and 1/2 cup each of the onions, celery, and bell peppers and the garlic. Cook until vegetables start to get tender, about 5 to 8 minutes, stirring fairly constantly and scraping pan bottom as needed. Stir in the tomato sauce and cook about 1 minute, stirring often. Stir in the remaining 1/2 cup each of the onions, celery, and bell peppers and the tomatoes. Remove from heat.

Stir in the stock and rice, mixing well. Transfer mixture to an ungreased 8”x8” baking pan. Bake uncovered in a 350° oven until rice is tender but still a bit crunchy, about 1 hour. Remove from oven. Stir well and remove bay leaves Let sit 5 minutes before serving.

To serve, mold rice in an 8-ounce cup and place 2 cups on each serving plate for a main course, or 1 cup for an appetizer.

I ended my fast a day early—I just felt ready—and have been eating miso soup, a little quinoa and small amounts of cooked vegetables. It feels good to chew again! So in the end, my jeans are a bit looser but, more importantly, I really feel like I hit the reset button. No more sugar cravings. (Did you know that taking probiotics in the morning helps with that by boosting your body’s good bacteria?) And I am resolved to be kinder to myself in all ways; not by indulging my every whim, but by stopping to consider what I really want, on every level, and not acting on impulse. Does that make sense?

Although I am not eating any animal products yet, I wanted to offer you this easy recipe for chicken legs that I’ve had up my sleeve. It was very loosely inspired by the cooking of Suzanne Goin, who firmly believes in the benefits of marinating and the addition of chile de árbol to practically everything. It’s a simple preparation that’s ideal for a quick weeknight dinner, or to make ahead and take with you for a cold lunch.

a simple marinade of onion, thyme, red chile and vermouth kicks up the flavor

You could customize this recipe by changing the marinade to suit your mood and your pantry. Sherry, garlic and pimentón would be another good combination. Or you could go Asian by using soy, ginger and rice wine vinegar. The point is to infuse some flavor into the meat before cooking. You can either plan ahead and refrigerate your marinated legs overnight, or leave them on the countertop, covered, for four hours or so. Fifteen minutes is not going to do it; but even a couple of hours is OK.

I really like using drumsticks (or thighs) because they have the best flavor. I don’t understand people who prize white meat, especially in a preparation like this. Maybe you haven’t been cooking your chicken long enough? You don’t want to eat dark meat undercooked. It can take more heat and time than the white meat, because it’s got more fat. You simply pop these legs in the oven for about half an hour, broiling at the last minute to crisp up the skin. With a little brown rice (or not) and a salad or some cooked greens, this is dinner. Chutney or sharp mustard would not go amiss.

ROASTED DRUMSTICKS

serves 2 with leftovers

6 organic chicken drumsticks

2 dried chiles de árbol

4 sprigs thyme

1 small onion, thinly sliced

1/4 cup vermouth

sea salt and pepper

Place the chicken in a bowl or shallow dish, crumbling the chile and thyme over, then add onion, vermouth and a generous sprinkling of salt and freshly ground black pepper. Mix this all together with your hands (yes, you can) and marinate overnight in the fridge, or on the counter for up to 4 hours (but not less than 2).

Remove chicken from fridge about 30 minutes before cooking. Preheat oven to 400º. Brush marinade off chicken, discarding onion, chile and thyme. Sprinkle lightly with sea salt. Roast uncovered for 25 minutes, then broil on high until crispy and browned, about 5 more minutes.

mexican limes

Not as in Lima, Peru, as in Mexican lime. I had a reader request for Yucatecan sopa de lima, the Mexican version of Jewish penicillin, and I was happy to oblige, in part because I had a big jar of freshly made chicken stock in my fridge. The timing didn’t really work out for photos as I only know how to make them look good using natural light. So you’ll have to make do with a couple that show the difference between the small, seed-filled Mexican limes (not unlike key limes) and the more ubiquitous Persian limes. Either one works for this soup, and you can even use lemon. I ended up using both. This recipe was not something I grew up eating. My mother’s cooking was much more influenced by her mother’s New Mexico roots. And although I have eaten this soup in Mérida, I consulted a number of sources to get it right, including Rick Bayless, the Chicago-based chef (and Obama favorite) whose recipes tend to be impeccably researched and very authentic. I can’t really say this is his recipe; I changed it too much. His stock calls for pork bones, and for a few other ingredients I didn’t have on hand. But in the end, I wound up with a delicious, light but satisfying soup redolent of cinnamon and cumin, with a bit of chile heat, a pleasingly tart finish and a fabulous garnish of crispy tortilla strips. It’s great in hot weather and cold, and if you have stock on hand, you can cook up a pot in about an hour.

persian limes (found in every grocery store)

I can’t tell you the difference it makes to fry with leaf lard. I was amazed by how greaseless your tortilla strips will turn out. If you are freaked out about lard, please, take my word for it: it’s a vast improvement on frying with vegetable oil, and leaf lard in particular offers a lot of nutritional value. Ask around at your farmer’s market or organic butcher’s; I’m sure you can get yourself a tub of rendered lard.

SOPA DE LIMA (Yucatecan Lime Soup)

serves 6

1/2 teaspoon whole cumin

3 cloves

1 3″ piece cinnamon

1 teaspoon whole black peppercorns

2 tablespoons expeller-pressed peanut oil

4 cloves garlic, minced

1 large yellow onion, diced

2 jalapeños, stemmed, seeded and minced

1 teaspoon Mexican oregano

2 bay leaves

8 cups chicken stock

1 lemon, thinly sliced

1 teaspoon salt

1 whole chicken breast, halved (on the bone is best but I used boneless/skinless and it was just fine)

1/4 cup fresh lime juice

2-4 scallions, thinly sliced

fried tortilla strips (recipe follows)

1 lime, thinly sliced

large handful cilantro, picked and roughly chopped

Place first 4 ingredients in a mortar and pestle and pound briefly. Tie up contents in a double piece of cheesecloth and set aside.

Heat oil in a large, heavy soup pot. Sautee garlic and onion until translucent, then add chiles, oregano and bay leaves and sautee a few more minutes.

Pour in chicken stock, then add spice bag, salt and sliced lemon. Bring to a simmer and add chicken breast. Simmer, covered, for about 30 minutes. Then remove chicken and cool slightly. Slice or shred using 2 forks, and return to pot. Simmer another 10 minutes or so, to let flavors meld. Remove and discard spice bag.

Remove from heat. Stir in lime juice and scallions and taste to see if you need more salt. Serve in individual bowls, garnished with a handful of tortilla strips. Pass additional lime and cilantro on the side.

TORTILLA STRIPS

Make this garnish while the soup cooks.

8 corn tortillas

1 cup rendered leaf lard, or high-heat-tolerant oil for frying

sea salt

Heat lard or oil in a heavy skillet (cast iron is ideal). Meanwhile, cut the tortillas into 1/4″ strips.

When oil is hot, fry strips in batches, without crowding. Drain on paper towels (though if you use lard there will be virtually no draining necessary) and sprinkle with salt.

Once you make chicken stock using this recipe, I promise you’ll never want to go back to that stuff in the box, no matter how organic it is or how convenient it seems. You can make an enormous vat of this and freeze small containers or even ice cube trays full of it to use for months. If space is at a premium in your freezer, you can boil the stock down to a concentrated and syrupy demi-glace which can later be reconstituted into stock by adding water. I got this recipe from Nourishing Traditions and it’s really quite similar to most chicken stock recipes you’ll find, with one key exception: you cook it over very low heat for at least 6 and as many as 24 hours! Turns out this make a huge difference in the flavor, color and consistency of the stock. It’s rich, golden, unctuous without being greasy and highly flavored. Of course it helps if you are using a whole chicken, or lots of good bony parts, including necks and feet.

These contain large amount of nutritionally valuable gelatin, which aids digestion and can help in the treatment of intestinal disorders. It also helps the body more fully utilize the proteins ingested. We’re all familiar with the folk wisdom about “Jewish penicillin,” but broth has actually been prescribed since Maimonides’ time in the 12th century for colds and asthma. The bottom line, of course, is flavor, and it will convince you above all else. When you make your own stock, you will marvel at how this combination of a few meaty bones and some simple vegetables give rise to such bounty.

You will need a nice, large and heavy stockpot. I am in love with the copper one G gave me and, as you can see, I have let it acquire its own patina over time. You soak the cut-up chicken parts (I use wing tips that I bag and keep frozen whenever I make roasted wings; necks that I save whenever I roast a whole bird; sometimes saved carcasses; and feet—the best!) and the vegetables in water with a little vinegar for an hour, and bring it to a boil. The next step is very important: you skim off all the impurities that rise to the surface. It can be almost a cupful of icky scum. Then you reduce the heat, put the lid on and walk away for a good few hours. As many as 24! I never have to replenish the water because the temperature is so low, and the lid keeps the condensation inside the pot. During the last 10 minutes of this long cooking period, you immerse a bunch of parsley to add back in some minerals. Then cool the stock, strain and refrigerate it overnight so the fat rises to the top. (You can keep this in a jar in the fridge for weeks, using it to roast vegetables, fry potatoes or baste your next roast chicken.) The resulting stock is thick with gelatin, a glorious yellow-orange color and packed with flavor. I freeze mine in pint or quart jars (leave a few inches of headspace as the stock expands during freezing). You can defrost these ahead of time if you’re planning a soup or sauce, or simply remove the lid and place the jar in a saucepan with water that comes about halfway up, set over medium-low heat and simmer until liquidified.

THE VERY BEST CHICKEN STOCK

adapted from Nourishing Traditions

makes 3-4 quarts

Note: This recipe calls for no salt. It’s generally best to salt it once you know how it’s going to be used. If you salt it and then reduce it for a demi-glâce or a sauce, you may find it way too salty.

1 whole free-range chicken, or 2-3 pounds bony chicken parts, including necks, backs, wings and feet

gizzards from one chicken, optional

4 quarts cold filtered water

2 tablespoons vinegar

1 large onion, skin on and coarsely chopped

3 celery ribs, coarsely chopped

1-2 leeks, white and light green part only, cleaned and coarsely chopped

1 bunch parsley

If you are using a whole chicken, cut off the wings and remove any gizzards and/or the neck from the cavity (these can all be used for the stock). Free-range chickens will produce much better results than a factory-farmed bird. Cut chicken parts into several smaller pieces. Put chicken or pieces into a large stainless steel pot with the water, vinegar and vegetables (except the parsley). Let stand for 30 minutes-1 hour. Bring to a boil, and remove all scum that rises to the top. Then reduce the heat to low, cover and simmer for 6-24 hours. The longer you cook the stock, the richer and more flavorful it will be.

About 10 minutes before finishing the stock, stir in the parsley. This imparts additional mineral ions to the stock. Turn the heat off, and allow to cool before removing chicken pieces with a slotted spoon. Sometimes I reserve any usable meat for enchiladas, or I feed it to the cat.

Strain the stock through a fine mesh into a large bowl, pot or jar and refrigerate, covered, until any fat rises to the top and congeals. (I usually leave it overnight.) Skim off this fat and reserve the stock in covered containers in your fridge or freezer. It will keep in your fridge for 3-4 days; if you want to keep it there longer, you need to boil it again. Otherwise, you can clarify the stock and it will keep refrigerated for quite a bit longer.

CLARIFIED STOCK

2 quarts defatted stock

2 egg whites, lightly beaten

For a perfectly clear stock, add egg whites and bring to a boil, whisking with a wire whisk. When the stock begins to boil, stop whisking and boil for 3-5 minutes. A white foam will form, gradually turning into a spongy crust on the surface. Take the stock off the heat and lift off the crust with a spoon. Strain the stock again through a strainer lined with cheesecloth or a thin kitchen towel.

We made fried chicken this weekend but we were too busy to take any pictures of it, so all I can offer you is this shot of my nephew who said it was the best dinner he’d ever had. That’s some endorsement. The recipe came from Edna Lewis and Scott Peacock. If you don’t know about these two cooks—a delightfully odd couple—let me just give you a little background. Edna, who passed away in 2006 at the age of 89, was the granddaughter of a former slave who had helped found Freetown, a Virginia farming community. She grew up on the fresh food at hand, then moved to New York City where she cooked for and rubbed shoulders with artists, musicians, writers and Communists. She had an elegant style and a gift for simple, classic flavors. Late in life, Edna encountered Scott Peacock, a gay man half her age, a kindred spirit and chef whom she mentored and befriended. In fact, the two wound up sharing an apartment, and Scott cared for her until her death. (A situation that was evidently problematic for her family.) They collaborated on a cookbook, The Gift of Southern Cooking, that is full of wonderful traditional American Southern recipes, including the one I used for fried chicken.

miss lewis in her prime

I thought you might like to see the menu for the memorial dinner for Edna Lewis that was held at the Tullie Smith Farm, in the Atlanta History Center.

Cheese Straws
Benne Seed Wafers With Shrimp Paste
Pimento Cheese and Celery
Buttermilk Biscuits Stuffed With Smithfield Ham, Sweet Butter
Strawberry Preserves
Southern Pan-Fried Chicken
Deviled Eggs
Asparagus Dressed With Cucumber and Spring Herbs
Heirloom Tomato and Field Pea Salad With Garlic Mayonnaise
Sunday Night Cake
Miss Lewis’s Coconut Layer Cake
Cat’s Tongue Cookies
Fresh Strawberries
Blackberry Cobbler With Fresh Churned Vanilla Ice Cream
Old-Fashioned Tea Cakes
Homemade Lemonade, Iced Tea

Wish I could’ve been there. I think I’m going to have to look into those benne (sesame) seed wafers with shrimp paste. Not to mention that blackberry cobbler.

But back to the chicken. We were four adults and two children under the age of 8, so I doubled the recipe and still every last piece got gobbled up. Sprinkled with sea salt and maybe a little Tabasco, it was truly irresistible.

In my experience, two things are truly essential for excellent fried chicken: leaf lard and a well-seasoned cast-iron skillet. The lard—in this case flavored Virginia-style with a bit of butter and a slice of country ham—creates a shatteringly crisp, remarkably greaseless skin. (Leaf lard, the highest grade of lard, is obtained from the “flare,” a fat deposit surrounding the kidneys and inside the loin. It has no real discernible pork flavor so it’s also great for baking and makes the flakiest pie crust.) The cast-iron skillet ensures even cooking but also helps impart a gorgeous deep mahogany color to the bird. The chicken gets two long soaks, Alabama-style, first in brine and then in buttermilk. The salty brine helps the flesh retain moisture and seasons it all the way through; the buttermilk tenderizes it and adds a tangy flavor.

MIRACULOUSLY GOOD FRIED CHICKEN

adapted from Scott Peacock and Edna Lewis

makes 4 servings

1/2 cup kosher salt (do not use table salt for brining)

2 quarts cold water

1 three-pound chicken, cut into 8 pieces

1 quart buttermilk

1 pound lard

1/2 cup (1 stick) unsalted butter

1/2 cup country ham pieces, or 1 thick slice country ham cut into 1/2-inch strips

1 cup all-purpose flour

2 tablespoons cornstarch

1 teaspoon salt

1/2 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper

To make the brine, stir kosher salt into cold water until dissolved. Place chicken parts in a nonreactive bowl or pot; add enough brine to cover completely. Refrigerate 8 to 12 hours.

Drain the brined chicken and rinse out the bowl it was brined in. Return chicken to the bowl, and pour the buttermilk over. Cover and refrigerate for 8 to 12 hours. Drain the chicken on a wire rack, discarding the buttermilk.

Meanwhile, prepare the fat for frying by putting the lard, butter and country ham into a heavy skillet or frying pan. Cook over low heat for 30-45 minutes, skimming as needed, until the butter ceases to throw off foam and the country ham is browned. Use a slotted spoon to remove the ham carefully from the fat.

Just before frying, increase the temperature to medium-high and heat the fat to 335 degrees. Prepare the dredge by blending together the flour, cornstarch, salt and pepper in a shallow bowl or on wax paper. Dredge the drained chicken pieces thoroughly in the flour mixture, then be sure to pat well to remove all excess flour.

Using tongs, slip some of the chicken pieces, skin side down, into the heated fat. (Do not overcrowd the pan or the cooking fat will cool. You’ll need to fry in batches.) Regulate the fat so it just bubbles, and cook for 8 to 10 minutes on each side, until the chicken is golden brown and cooked through. Drain thoroughly on a bed of crumpled paper towels (not flat ones), and serve. Fried chicken is delicious eaten hot, warm, at room temp or cold.

G came back from the market last week saying there were no more Meyer lemons and I kicked myself because I had wanted to preserve a bunch before the season was over. But they are at their peak in California now, and I found a great place there willing to ship me a whole bunch. Birch Hill Organics, a small family farm run by the Burchiels, grows Meyer lemons and kiwis in Atascadero, weeding and fertilizing them by hand. (Daughter Stephanie also has a burgeoning business of delicious soups.) Lemons are naturally antioxidant, alkalinizing and detoxifying, and the Meyer variety is especially thin-skinned and sweet. These fairly burst from their box in all their golden-yellow intensity, and I’m thrilled that I can preserve them to use in the coming months. No idea what I’m talking about? A preserved lemon is a beautiful thing. Alice Waters makes a preserved lemon relish with shallots, olives, parsley and olive oil that she calls “a welcome spot of brightness in the winter.” With fish, roasted or grilled meats, or paired with a rich, ripe cheese, the tangy, faintly bitter and highly aromatic rind (you generally discard the pith and pulp) hints at sunshine.

photo by george billard

A staple of Moroccan cuisine, where they often infuse a chicken tagine, preserved lemons are also eaten with North African food, are great in ceviche, and even complement vanilla or lemon ice cream. I used them in my spring dinner party, finely diced and added to blanched English peas and snow peas; the recipe is here (scroll down). Toss them in with sautéed green beans or carrots, or mash them into a hunk of roasted winter squash with plenty of butter.

Although you can make preserved lemons with any variety, it seems to be universally acknowledged that Meyers are best. Their thin skins are less bitter and retain their beautiful color better, although they will brown the longer you keep them. (That’s fine, it doesn’t mean they’ve gone bad.) Any glass jar will do, but I love these. Be sure to use organic lemons; you don’t want to preserve a bunch of chemicals.

photo by sarah shatz (courtesy of food52)

The editors of Food52 picked one of my recipes as the wildcard winner this week! Hooray! They called my Tuscan chicken liver paté “a rich dose of umami,” which indeed it is thanks to the addition of anchovy, capers, parmesan, shallots, garlic and wine. This is not your Jewish grandmother’s chopped chicken liver! It is a gussied-up Tuscan version—taught to me by a diehard Italophile—and it really is a winner, especially when served with a garnish of fried sage leaves and a glass of prosecco or, my personal favorite, Lambrusco. Amanda Hesser tweeted that it would be a good prelude to spaghetti carbonara, but I can’t agree—better before a whole roasted sea bass served with broccoli rabe.

Tuscan Chicken Liver Paté

makes about 2 dozen crostini

1 pound organic chicken livers

2 tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil

2 tablespoons unsalted butter

2 large shallots, thinly sliced

1 large clove garlic, smashed

3 anchovy filets (or 1 tablespoon anchovy paste)

1 tablespoon capers, minced

4-6 sage leaves

2/3 cups dry white wine

1/2 teaspoon grated lemon zest

1/2 cup grated parmigiano reggiano

grilled country bread, for serving

Trim any sinews from the livers and dry well with paper towels.

In a large skillet, melt the butter and olive oil over medium-high heat. Sautee the shallots, garlic, anchovy, capers and sage until shallots are lightly browned, 6 minutes or so

Season the chicken livers with salt and pepper and add to the pan. Cook over high heat until browned, then add half of the white wine (1/3 cup) and keep stirring with a wooden spoon, breaking up the livers as they start to cook through. When the wine is absorbed, add the second 1/3 cup and repeat the process.

Remove from heat and transfer to a food processor. Process until quite smooth, then add lemon zest and cheese and process again. Taste and add salt or pepper as needed. Serve warm or at room temperature to spread on grilled country bread.