Southern

This simple "syrup cake" is a Cajun classic. The dessert's name comes from the cane syrup that gives the cake its texture and flavor. If at all possible, use Steen's syrup.

The saucy mixture of Parmesan, cheddar, bell pepper, and sweet-tangy Peppadew peppers coats the pasta perfectly—and the panko topping adds just enough crunch.

"Finish with gremolata and boiled peanuts." How often have you heard that phrase? Or, for that matter, the words "boiled-peanut beurre blanc"? Such is the beauty of melding Southern and French techniques. And who better to teach us a thing or two about fresh takes on Southern food than a Canadian, happily assimilated in Georgia? Hugh Acheson says that any medium-bodied fish will work with the sauce. We believe it to be delicious with flounder.

You are, no doubt, familiar with the so-called trinity of Louisiana cookery: onions, celery, and bell pepper. Susan Spicer of New Orleans, a self-described eggplant freak who cooks in an internationally inflected Creole style, has honed a new sort of trinity: eggplant, oysters, and tasso.
Here, tasso, an intensely flavored smoked pork of Cajun origin, serves as a seasoning, in the same way that a smoked pig trotter flavors a pot of greens. Although Spicer recommends that you serve scoops of this gratin as an appetizer, consider yourself warned: We have done the same. And no matter what we served to follow, it paled in comparison. Your guests might be happier with a large helping of this Creolized casserole and a salad.

This dish is emblematic of great home-style Southern cooking. Some say its origins are in Europe, where wiener schnitzel was invented, and there are some similarities. The connection ends, though, with the country-style sausage gravy with which we smother our pan-fried cutlets. Europeans serve their version with a humble (and lean) wedge of lemon. I retained the gravy but lightened it up dramatically—and instead of pan-frying the cutlets in bacon fat as they do in some parts of the South, I chose to bread and bake them.

Enjoy this soup-stew as is or, for a one-dish meal, ladle it over brown rice. Pass the hot-pepper sauce, please!

These noodle-like dumplings, made with bacon fat, are a true taste of Southern cooking. They're easy to prepare and delicious, so it's easy to understand why they were a staple (plus they make good use of that can of bacon fat under the sink that everyone used to have). But the best thing about these tender dumplings is that they really soak up the flavorful braising juices and take on the flavor of the rabbit. I find that it's easiest to braise the rabbits whole, but if you buy them pre-sectioned, that's fine, they'll cook in the same manner. When you are picking the tender meat off the rabbit, avoid shredding it too finely (larger pieces of meat make a nicer presentation), and be extra careful to pick out small bones. I always pick the meat twice to make sure that I've gotten every last one.

Turnip, mustard, and collard greens star in this southern-style soup.

When I was a little girl, making biscuits was one of my favorite things to do because they were so easy and so delicious. Not until I began my experiments with gluten-free baking did I realize the gift my mother and grandmother had passed on to me in the process: They taught me that in order in making the very best biscuits, it was all about the touch. The less you touched the dough, the better the biscuits. If you over-kneaded the dough, the biscuits would be much drier and would turn to stone twice as fast. So as you are kneading your dough, remember less is more, and you will have those moist, mouthwatering biscuits you've been dreaming about. Any of the suggested accompaniments you choose will sing atop this Southern classic.

In many sweet-potato pies, the ginger and spices overwhelm the flavor of the potatoes. This version plays to the flavor of the tubers; a little spicy nuttiness from the gingersnap pecan crust just emphasizes the pie's luscious creaminess. It is perfectly normal for the surface of a custardy pie, like this one, to crack in the course of baking and cooling—the pie will taste no less delicious.

My friend and fellow food writer Angela Knipple cherishes memories of childhood visits to her Great-Uncle Curtis and Great-Aunt Marian's big farm. Perhaps her passion for food, cooking, and sustainable agriculture took root during her summer days in their enormous garden. She loved weeding and harvesting vegetables, and turning her fingers a fabulous shade of purple while picking purple-hull peas. Meals were major delights of homegrown, homecooked goodness, including this beautiful summer squash pie—deliciously creamy, sweet, and a little bit tart. You could use yellow squash instead of zucchini, or do a combination of the two.

Ever since I first tasted bean pie at The Know bookstore in Durham, North Carolina, I've been a fan. Given my deep affection for egg custard, pumpkin, and sweet potato pies, it's no surprise that I would adore bean pie, which shares culinary roots with those pie favorites. Developed in the 1930s as part of the nutritional teachings of the Nation of Islam, bean pies became standard items at black Muslim bakeries in urban communities from Chicago and Oakland to Detroit and Washington, D.C. Navy beans are most commonly cited in recipes, but great northern beans and pinto beans are also popular choices. With a can of beans and the usual custard pie ingredients, you can turn out a delicious bean pie fast. You can use a blender or a food processor to mix up your filling, or mash the cooked, drained beans well with a potato masher or a fork.

I spent some time in Knoxville and got to know firsthand how pleasant the people are and how proud they are to maintain the tradition of the apple stack cake. Everyone knows it, and the routine that they follow to make and serve it is serious business. It's an unusual and labor-intensive cake. First of all, the dough is rolled out like a cookie. It bakes into a pretty hard disk that will get mildly saturated with dried apples reconstituted with spices and sugar. The apples can't be fresh, and cheating the drying process is not acceptable. Electric fruit dehydrators save the effort of sun-drying apples on the porch or rigging an elaborate clothesline system in the attic—all methods I was told about by people who have seen it done. One important element of the stack cake is timing. It must be wrapped and left in the refrigerator at least overnight, longer if possible. Whether you wrap it with wax paper and dish towels, aluminum foil, or plastic wrap, one way or another, keep it well covered so the moisture won't escape.

If you're using a glass or metal pie dish instead of a deep-dish ceramic pie plate, be sure to keep an eye on the pie. It may cook more quickly. Baking the pie on the bottom rack of the oven ensures a crisp bottom crust.

Sweetbreads, the thymus gland of calves (and occasionally lambs), are some of the easiest offal for beginners to love—their delicate flavor and creamy texture are incredibly seductive. No matter how you're going to prepare them, sweetbreads must first be soaked in cold water and then poached to firm them up. After that, these are rolled in a paprika-seasoned flour-and-cornmeal coating and deep-fried. The crunchy outside and pillowy interior are absolutely delicious dipped in the herbaceous Green Goddess sauce. If you want to take things to the next level, tuck the nuggets into a hollowed-out baguette with shredded lettuce, then smear on the Green Goddess and some hot sauce for an out-of-this-world po' boy.

Sweet tea never tasted so good—especially for those bent on unwinding after a long workweek. Try it with a lunch of fried chicken and deviled eggs and see if you don't agree.

Editor's note: The recipe and introductory text below are from The Barbecue! Bible 10th Anniversary Edition, by Steven Raichlen. To read more about Raichlen and barbecue, go to our feature The Best Barbecue in the U.S.A. Barbecue means different things to different people in different parts of the country. In North Carolina it means pork, or more precisely smoked pork shoulder, that has been grilled using the indirect method until it's fall-off-the-bone tender, then pulled into meaty shreds with fingers or a fork. Doused with vinegar sauce and eaten with coleslaw on a hamburger bun, it's one of the most delicious things on the planet, and it requires only one special ingredient: patience. My friend and barbecue buddy Elizabeth Karmel makes some of the best pork shoulder I've ever tasted. Elizabeth comes from Greensboro, North Carolina, where she grew up on pulled pork. Her secret is to cook the pork to an internal temperature of 195°F—higher than is recommended by most books. But this is the temperature needed for the pork to separate easily into the fine, moist, tender shreds characteristic of true Carolina barbecue. Elizabeth doesn't use a rub, although many of her compatriots do. (I personally like a rub, but I've made it optional in the recipe.) A true pork shoulder includes both the Boston butt (the upper part of the leg with the shoulder blade) and the picnic ham (the actual foreleg), a cut of meat that weighs fourteen to eighteen pounds in its entirety and is used chiefly at professional barbecue competitions. The recipe here calls for Boston butt alone (five to six pounds), which, thanks to its generous marbling, gives you superb barbecue. The appropriate beverage for all this? Cold beer or Cheerwine (a sweet red soda pop).

Although legend has it that the red velvet cake originated in the early 1900s at New York City's Waldorf Astoria Hotel, it's been a Southern favorite for as long as I can remember. (A friend of mine recently reported seeing a version of it at a Starbucks in Mississippi.) Years ago, I made an armadillo-shaped red velvet cake for a wedding couple, complete with gray cream cheese icing for the animal's shell and scales. The idea may have come from the popular 1989 movie Steel Magnolias, which featured a red velvet armadillo groom's cake, a popular Southern tradition that continues to this day. The inspiration for my red velvet cupcakes came from my high-school boyfriend's grandmother. My mother was quite ill during those years, so I spent a lot of time with Bob Yarborough's family. His Birmingham, Alabama–born grandmother cooked and baked frequently, and I never forgot her red velvet cake. I wrote the instructions in my high-school recipe notebook and used it as a guide for developing these cupcakes. The mint extract and crushed mint candies add bit of holiday flair, but easily can be left out at other times of the year.