Southern

The week of July 9, 1955, “Rock Around the Clock” bumped “Cherry Pink and Apple Blossom White” off the top of the charts. That was the week rock and roll became king. This combination of Granny Smiths and cherries rocks.

This can be cooked in a slow cooker, in a Dutch oven on top of the stove, or in a roasting pan in a 375°F. oven. Pick the way that suits you. Any way you cook it, you will find that the sweet pickle relish and barbecue sauce flavor the meat through and through.

Plump country pigeons roost on local grain silos fattening themselves up on the wheat or corn that has spilled. My father is a crack shot and regularly shoots doubles at skeeting events. He occasionally does some practice shooting around the silos, bringing home a batch of fat little birds. In town look for pigeon in the market, not on statuary. Pigeons at the market are called squab. The biggest difference between the two is those squabs have never flown.

Freshwater prawns farmed in Mississippi are hatched in the nursery and kept in brackish water for three weeks. After that they are moved to fresh artesian well water in the nursery for thirty more days and then are stocked in ponds when the water temperature reaches the mid-sixties. After about four months they have grown large enough to bring to market. When the prawns are harvested in the fall from the artesian waters I always make a batch of this dirty rice. It is Southern through and through and well seasoned.

Back when I was in high school we hung out at Estella’s Tavern on Moonbeam Street. It had Formica tables, walls covered halfway with variegated shag carpet and then mirrored the rest of the way up, low lighting, and a hell of a jukebox that had the Nat King Cole song “Sweet Lorraine” on it. I remember some very-late-night meals of pan trout (which was most likely whiting) doused with hot sauce, fried, crisp, and served on slices of white bread—completed, of course, by cold beer in a can. Man, oh man, were those delicious! Pan trout are what we call just about any fish small enough to fit in a little skillet. Giving the fish fillets a coating of white bread crumbs and a good shot of hot sauce whisks me back in time and has me humming “Sweet Lorraine.”

A mirliton is a chayote squash or a vegetable pear. It is also the name for instruments in which a voice resonates over a membrane, as in a kazoo. The Carolina Chocolate Drops are bringing the kazoo back in style with their unique take on traditional jug-band music. I am mounting a campaign to bring the squash back too.

My friend Cindy Nix Sturdivant lives on the Countiss Place near Swan Lake, Mississippi. She has a nice plot of tomatoes, herbs, and peppers out the back door of her kitchen. This hot and spicy dish is inspired by her. She is so much fun because she can always get folks fired up for a party, like her epic dove hunt party, which grows every year, on Labor Day weekend. She needs to plant a bigger plot.

When Ernestine Williams, mother of Ole Miss Colonel Reb and NFL football great Gentle Ben Williams, was teaching me how to make skillet fried corn, the top of the black pepper shaker fell off and a ton of pepper fell in the skillet. She scooped out as much as she could but there was still a whole lot that got left in. We liked it. Now when I make it I add a good bit of black pepper and a whole lot of garlic. You have to use fresh corn in this dish; frozen just won’t do if you want it to really fry up nice.

I was a boy-crazy preteen when I went on a trip to visit my friend’s grandmother Beauxma in Saint Martinville, Louisiana, in the sugarcane-growing region of the state. I was so taken by the story of the Evangeline Oak. In 1907, St. Martinville author Felix Voorhies wrote Acadian Reminiscences: With the True Story of Evangeline, inspired by tales told to him by his grandmother. The account of Emmeline Labiche and Louis Arceneaux is said to be about the real people behind Longfellow’s tragically romantic poem “Evangeline,” about a woman looking for her lost love, Gabriel. In 1929, Hollywood came to town and filmed the movie Evangeline, starring Dolores Del Rio in the title role. After the filming, a statue of Evangeline (looking a lot like Dolores Del Rio) was erected on the spot marking the alleged burial place of Emmeline Labiche. As a whole, Southerners have never let the truth stand in the way of a good story; and now the stories of Emmeline and Louis and Evangeline and Gabriel have fused into one story told time and again beneath the spreading branches of the Evangeline Oak. In fact, Louisianans have taken the story so to heart that the Evangeline variety of sweet potato is fast becoming one of the state’s most popular sweet potatoes.

Spring is a short-lived but well-loved season in the Mississippi Delta. All is verdant and lush with the scent of fresh-tilled earth in the air. When spears of asparagus are combined with farm-fresh eggs, to me, it all signals spring. I particularly enjoy this dish for breakfast with sourdough bread for sopping up the luxuriant, velvety cream sauce.

“Alligator pears” is what we call the big pale-skinned midwinter varieties of avocados. They’re also known as Florida avocados (as opposed to the more familiar California Hass variety, which has dark, pebbly skin). One type has the name Bacon and that is a great coincidence since they work so wonderfully together.

Every year in early June Biloxi, Mississippi, holds the Blessing of the Fleet. Shrimp boats festooned with pennants, flags, as well as images of Jesus and animated shrimp form a procession out in the Mississippi Sound and file past the anchored “blessing boat.” There stands the officiating priest, who sprinkles holy water on the boats and gives the blessing for each one. St. Michael’s Catholic Church, with its stained-glass windows of Christ’s twelve apostles depicted as fishermen and its scalloped roof, has been the central sponsor of the ceremony for more than eighty years. An evergreen wreath is dropped into the gulf in remembrance of those lost at sea, and prayers are offered up for a safe and prosperous fishing season. This year, with the oil spill, more than ever the fishermen could use a blessing. This traditional coastal dish is perfect to serve for a Sunday brunch.

In 2009 the USDA declared seventy-nine of Mississippi’s eighty-two counties disaster areas due to excessive rain in spring and fall and a drought in the summer. It rained more than fifteen inches in May when farmers were trying to plant their crops. Then in the busy harvest months, a deluge of eight inches in September, followed by fourteen and a half inches in October. It was one of the worst yields on record. My cousin Michael Thompson has the right temperament to be a farmer. He is unflappable in the face of natural disaster and focuses on doing everything he can to foster a good soybean yield each season. “To do what I love on land that means so much to our family, it’s home . . .” As he says this his voice trails off dreamily.

The rhyme that goes “something old, something new, something borrowed, something blue, and a silver sixpence in her shoe” has sent many a bride down the aisle. A sixpence is hard to come by these days, so many brides in these parts use a copper penny from the year they were born to help ensure a prosperous marriage, good luck, and protection against want. A few have a trinket for their charm bracelet made after the honeymoon. Cutting carrots into rounds and marinating them in the dressing gives them a burnished look like copper pennies. It’s nice to serve this at engagement parties celebrating a bride-elect.

What a nickname, Good Donny. It’s a nickname most people couldn’t live up to. His grandkids gave him that one and nobody has found grounds to disagree. Like the name implies, he’s a good guy. Good Donny’s son, Benji, came by wielding some of the best pork cracklings we’d ever had. They were the perfect salty blend of tender, crisp, and crunch. Benji went on and on about how he had to beg Good Donny to give him just half a bag. Turns out that a friend of Good Donny’s makes them and this friend is getting on up in age, meaning every batch might be the last. You would have thought Benji was passing out gold doubloons. Next time we saw Good Donny we made a point to tell him how crazy we were for those cracklings. The following day, Donny showed up with five pint bags full of those golden crispy treasures. When Benji came by a few days later, my husband, Donald, retrieved a bag that he had hidden away. Benji was beside himself with envy.

Chicory flowers are Aequinotales, meaning the flowers open and close at the same time just like clockwork. Here, that is from around six in the morning until the sun is high at noon. About the same time these blossoms are awakening, chicory roots blended with coffee are percolating across Louisiana. They make a fine combination. This dressing has the faintest sweetness of Louisiana molasses that works with the coffee to balance the bitter bite of the salad greens.

“Up until the time I was eleven or twelve years old, people would ask me where I was from and I’d always say Leland. I never wanted to claim Texas . . . I loved Mississippi. All the blues in the world came from there.” A tall, lanky albino almost certainly isn’t what springs to mind when you think of a blues guitar-man. But, once you listen to Johnny Winter, all that changes. His parents lived in Leland, Mississippi, before moving to Beaumont, Texas. As a kid Johnny spent his summers in the small Mississippi town on Highway 61—the Blues Highway. These biscuits bake up a little on the pale side, but that’s all right.

Oyster patties are much more sophisticated than their name and are to me one of the most elegant dishes to serve for a seated dinner, not that we have those often. They also make a wonderful offering for a more casual soiree, served from a chafing dish surrounded by the little pastry cases ready to be filled with the warm creamed oysters.

Most crawfish bread recipes are made with a hollowed-out loaf of French bread. Here the crawfish filling is enrobed in a tender ricotta dough, making these more like turnovers. Whether you make them small for pick-up party food or a more substantial calzone-like size, these are perfect for tailgating or game-day parties.

The Jasper County village of Bay Springs, twenty miles from Laurel, Mississippi, was named in 1901 for an artesian spring flowing from the trunk of a bay laurel; it flows still to this day. I always think of that town when I make this dish. Introducing freshwater crawfish to leaves from a bay laurel, traditional pickling spices, and tarragon vinegar prepares them to sit on top of salads and toasts.