Southern

A whole hog can weigh anywhere from 75 to 180 pounds. I like to cook the big ones the best, because they’ve got the most meat on them and can serve a huge crowd. Now, some ’cue cookers may tell you that smaller is better because it’s easier to handle, but I don’t truck with that. The quality of the meat on a smaller hog is no different than a bigger one, and if you’re going to go to all the trouble to smoke a whole hog, then you might as well get as much as you can for your efforts. For more than eight years now, I’ve been buying my hogs from Elmer Yoder at his business, Yoder’s Butcher Block. He is located in a rural Mennonite community about fourteen miles from my home in Unadilla, Georgia. I get my hogs from Yoder’s not just because he’s close to where I live but also because the quality of Yoder’s meat is very high. His heritage demands it. I know I can count on Yoder to supply me hormone-and drug-free meats that are as naturally raised as possible. Raising animals this way is a skill that has been overshadowed by the large meat processors, but Yoder has found his niche here, processing deer and hogs and everything in between, and he has dedicated customers. The quality of his pork is top-tier. End of day, he helps me be a champion. Now, in other parts of the country it is hard to find whole hogs. My best suggestion is to order one from a good, reputable butcher. A few things to know when ordering a hog: First, determine what size will fit in your smoker. Measure the inside length of your cooking chamber. It needs to be at least four feet to be able to cook a 50- to 80-pound hog, and five to six feet if you want to cook a bigger one (up to about 200 pounds). Tell the butcher that you want the hog to be “round,” which means split and gutted but not butterflied (you’ll do that yourself and then you can be sure to lay it out like you want it). Getting a hog this way saves a whole lot of time and energy. I like the head left on but the feet removed for presentation purposes, but that part is up to you. If you want to cook a whole hog, this recipe will take you through every step. But if you really want to know how to cook whole hog like a professional, I suggest that you attend my barbecue class (or a good local barbecue class) to familiarize yourself with the process. Cooking a whole hog is not for the faint of heart, and it sure ain’t for first-timers.

Fried chicken is a Southern staple, and to be a good Southern cook you better know how to make it. I do. I like to use small fresh chickens for frying because the flavor of the meat is better. And speaking of flavor, I like to fry my chicken in pure pork lard, which gives it a richness and down-home essence that vegetable oil just can’t replicate. You can buy good high-quality lard—and I’m not talking about the soapy-looking white blocks sold in some supermarkets—from any reputable butcher. What makes my fried chicken special is the mixture of spices I use—note that both chili powder and sugar are involved—and the tangy richness that buttermilk lends.

Cooking a whole chicken in the smoker is probably the easiest thing you can master. I say that a whole hog (see page 53) isn’t for beginners, but a whole chicken sure is. Whenever you cook anything in a smoker, you risk drying it out. My chickens are never dry because the pan of apple juice underneath keeps the meat tender and circulates moisture and sweetness throughout the smoker. So the chicken is smoky in flavor and melt-in-your-mouth in texture. If you are a real “skin person,” meaning the skin is your favorite part of the bird, you should know that the skin on this chicken becomes soft enough to bite through and is delicious (that said, if you prefer crunchy skin, see my fried chicken recipe on page 45). If you like to make pulled chicken sandwiches, this is the recipe you need to start with. Simply cook this chicken and then, wearing food-handling gloves, pull the chicken meat from the bones and place it on a platter. Let your guests assemble their own sandwiches with buns and your favorite garnishes, such as Basic Hickory Sauce (page 22), Mama’s Slaw (page 119), and pickles.

Coca-Cola was born in Atlanta in 1886, when pharmacist Dr. John Stith Pemberton took his new creation to Jacobs’ Pharmacy—where minutes after it was first sampled, it became a sensation. I love the stuff, in no small part because it’s a fantastic global brand from Georgia . . . just like me. What a lot of people outside of the South don’t realize is that Coke can be more than a “delicious and refreshing” drink; it’s a great ingredient to use in a marinade because it’s sweet and because the carbonation can be useful in tenderizing meat. It needs some balance, though, which is what the bacon does here: it adds a salty flavor and a crisp texture to the chicken. This dish is great for afternoon barbecues when you’re chilling by the pool. Serve it with your favorite potato salad (see page 116).

Nowadays chicken is cut into eight pieces: two legs, two thighs, two breasts, and two wings. Traditionally, though, when I was growing up, butchers used an eleven-piece cut: two legs, two thighs, two breasts, two wings, the neck, the back, and the wishbone. I created this recipe with the old-style cuts in mind because I like the way it gives you more pieces to enjoy and because it’s an homage to an old-fashioned way of doing things. It’s a recipe that relies on the flavors of smoke, of course, mingled with brown sugar, which caramelizes the skin. It’s a wonderful take on classic saucy-style so-called barbecue chicken. The easiest way to do this is to ask your butcher to cut up a whole chicken into eleven pieces. Then you’re done. However, if you’d like to try it yourself, I’ve included instructions opposite.

I don’t know any chef who travels with his own grits except Scott Peacock. And you can understand why. Once you have tasted those Southern stone-ground grits, it is hard to settle for less. But I hope he will forgive me for offering here a recipe for ordinary supermarket grits. They cook in 20 minutes, and I have borrowed Scott’s method of cooking them partially in milk, which makes them so much creamier. This way, at least you may get so hooked on grits that you’ll send away for the grittier stone- ground variety and give over part of a Sunday afternoon to stirring them as they cook slowly for a long time, the longer the better. Either way, grits are good with so many things—shrimp, chicken, game, pork, ham. I always make extra so that I can have some fried grits for breakfast the next day. Avoid instant grits and look for the old-fashioned ones.

Some things are like clockwork. For Crystal, her weekly routine during her high school years consisted of getting up and making herself grits and toast for breakfast. Oh, how she loved her grits! Some mornings she had them with sugar and butter; other days she simply salt-and-peppered them. It didn’t really matter how they were prepared. You can imagine, then, how sad she was when she couldn’t find grits while at college in Boston (that and her sweet tea). Determined to get her college friends on track, Crystal had her mother ship her care packages loaded with containers of grits. She served them at every opportunity and explored different ways of preparing them in order to impress her guests. One of the most popular recipes was this delicious take, which adds the right amount of garlic and cheese. Forget cold cereal—mornings should be all about grits.

Sounds strange, but it is really delicious. (Crystal had to convince Sandy, too.) There’s something about the sweet-salty combination of pineapple, Cheddar cheese, and Ritz crackers that’s irresistible. This casserole is generally served as a side, but it’s sweet enough for dessert.

There is an old Louisiana legend that says that when the original Acadians fled Nova Scotia to head to Louisiana, the local lobsters followed them. During the long swim the lobsters lost a lot of weight and most of their length. By the time they reached the bayou swamps to reunite with the early Cajuns, they had turned into crawfish! Crawfish, mudbugs, or crawdads—whatever you decide to call them, they’re delicious. With Texas being so close to bayou country, we can’t help but love these cute crustaceans. Though resembling tiny lobsters, only the extremely tasty tail is edible. When they are cooked with spicy Cajun flavors, you have yourself a mighty fine treat. Just remember that Louisiana crawfish are seasonal. A consistent supply can’t be counted on except between early March and mid-June, with the height of the season mid-March to mid-May. If crawfish are not available, peeled and deveined shrimp serve as a good substitute.

Chances are, if you grew up in the South, you have eaten your fair share of grits. You’ve probably eaten your share of shrimp, too. It’s no wonder that these two Southern staples come together in one of the best dishes of all time. Crystal grew up eating grits almost every morning and had always considered them a breakfast dish—until the day she was served shrimp and grits for dinner. That was when her obsession began. Instead of seeking help, Crystal continued to make shrimp and grits on her stove top, working and reworking the dish to find the perfect recipe. Her work definitely paid off. Here is her winning combo of smoked Gouda cheese grits and Cajun spiced shrimp, topped off with an herbed tomato mixture. Perfection indeed.

This one earned a higher place on the BabyCakes Piece of Cake scale simply because it requires pastry assemblage, which always complicates matters. It might take a little while for you sophomores to get your rhythm down, and your first few straws will probably look more like craggy witch fingers, but it’s all going to pay off if you stick with it. Once it does, you should host a dinner party and set these out early by the pintful.

Miss Moina Michael was born in 1869 in Good Hope, Georgia. She was educated at Lucy Cobb Institute, Georgia State Teachers College, and Columbia University in New York City, quite an accomplishment for a woman of her times. She went on to work as a professor at the University of Georgia. When World War One broke out she left her teaching position to volunteer in the war effort. When the war was over Miss Moina returned to the University of Georgia, where she taught continuing education classes for disabled servicemen. She conceived a fundraising idea to help the veterans: selling small silk poppies inspired by John McCrae’s memorial poem “In Flanders Fields.” (“In Flanders fields the poppies blow/Between the crosses row on row.”) Miss Moina from then on wore a red poppy to bring attention to the cause of disabled veterans. By 1921 the American Legion had adopted her red poppy as a symbol of remembrance for fallen soldiers. To me this delicious cake, decorated with red poppies, is as fitting for a patriotic celebration as anything red, white, and blue. Memorial Day is the perfect occasion to serve these poppy seed petits fours.

Satsuma mandarins are a hardy little citrus grown all along the Gulf Coast areas south of I-10 from Satsuma, Texas, on through Satsuma, Alabama, to Satsuma, Florida. The juice is very sweet and low in acid and the fruit easy to strain, with only a seed or two found in each one. Look for satsumas along roadside stands.

To me egg custard pie is an exemplary Southern dessert. Simple vanilla-flavored custard graced with a dusting of grated nutmeg atop a crisp crust is just what I would have served Miss Welty if I had ever had the chance to thank her for how much her stories have meant to me. I would have also thanked her for a gift that I have begun to appreciate, now that I am—for lack of a better term—grown up: the idea that you don’t have to leave the place you love and know, that it is not a prerequisite that to understand home you must exile yourself to gain perspective. No, she led by example and temperament. I hope she would have enjoyed this gratitude pie. I think she might have, with her keenness for custards and all.