Southern

Food lovers on America's coasts have long known that crab cakes make wonderful sandwiches. Here, tender lumps of sweet crab are seasoned (in the manner of traditional Louisiana deviled crabs) and lightly bound with egg and bread crumbs, then panfried until the cakes have a golden crust. A thin layer of tangy tartar sauce and crisp lettuce is all the accompaniment they need.

Catfish stays tender and moist when baked in a crunchy crust of bread crumbs and cornmeal. A take on traditional New Orleans rémoulade adds a piquant punch.

If you haven't had maque choux — corn and tomatoes stewed together — you're really in for a treat. In this favorite Cajun dish, the corn gains a lush, savory sauciness, while the tomato benefits from the kernels' gentle chew. Here, okra is added and cooked just until tender, bringing its own unique texture to the mix.

When you've had your fill of ripe peaches eaten out of hand, peel the rest for this fruity-tangy sauce. Brush it on grilled pork or chicken toward the end of cooking, and serve extra on the side. And who could say no to a dab of leftover sauce on a cream cheese — topped cracker?

Instead of pork shoulder, this southern-inspired recipe uses quicker-cooking pork tenderloin. For fullest flavor, look for Berkshire pork or another heritage breed. Smoked salt in a grinder can be found in the spice section of most supermarkets.

Several traditional southern themes — pecans, Caribbean spices, and, of course, thick, tangy cream cheese frosting — come together in this gorgeous layer cake that's both down-home and elegant.

Generations of southerners have tucked fresh hot chiles into vinegar for a pungent homemade hot sauce that sits right next to the salt and pepper on the table. Drizzled over gumbo, red beans and rice, or anything fried, it both balances out and punches up any other flavors it's paired with. The adventurous should feel free to pluck a pepper out of the jar and eat it alongside the meal — it's fine southern form. Doctored with a little sugar and red pepper flakes, it's amazing on the cheddar rice fritters.

In the South, you'll usually find this delicate spread — not a smooth paste, but slightly textured, to play up the flavor of the shrimp — on "benne wafers" (sesame-seed crackers). Spooned onto buttery toast points, it makes for tiny little bites with big sea flavor.

This recipe was created by chefs Slade Rushing and Allison Vines-Rushing of the Longbranch in Abita Springs, Louisiana. It's part of a special menu they created for Epicurious's Wine.Dine.Donate program.

This recipe was created by chefs Slade Rushing and Allison Vines-Rushing of the Longbranch in Abita Springs, Louisiana. It's part of a special menu they created for Epicurious's Wine.Dine.Donate program.

This recipe was created by chefs Slade Rushing and Allison Vines-Rushing of the Longbranch in Abita Springs, Louisiana. It's part of a special menu they created for Epicurious's Wine.Dine.Donate program.

It is said that eating Hoppin' John on New Year's Day will bring good luck. Here's a fresh take on the southern dish traditionally made with salt pork (we've subbed in andouille sausage) and served over rice.

Editor's note: The recipe and introductory text below are from Seasoned in the South by Bill Smith, the chef at Crook's Corner in Chapel Hill. Throughout the South, collards are a traditional New Year's Day dish — because their flat, green leaves resemble dollar bills, collards are said to bring monetary fortune in the new year. Hardly a workday passes that I don't eat at least a spoonful of collards. I never grow tired of them. I also love to drink their broth and to pour the broth over rice. My great-grandmother used to say that this "pot liquor" was like medicine. She also said that eating collards was how poor people survived the Depression, because collards will grow almost anywhere under almost any conditions and are very nourishing. People would plant them in their yards back then, and they still do. Essentially all you do to collards is boil them for a long time with salt. At Crook's I almost always have a ham bone to add. Most butcher shops and meat departments will have some sort of ham bone or ham hocks for sale.

Editor's note: The recipe and introductory text below are from The Glory of Southern Cooking by James Villas. As Villas explains, hoppin' John is eaten on New Year's Day because black-eyed peas look like coins and are considered lucky. Wanna know why this age-old dish of black-eyed peas and rice is eaten all over the South on New Year's Day to bring good luck? Because the peas look like little coins that swell when cooked, that's why. (Some say for ultimate success and prosperity, you should eat exactly 365 peas.) Stories abound about the obscure origins of the name hoppin' John, one being that, in antebellum days, a certain lame black cook named John hopped about a plantation kitchen on one leg while preparing the dish. Of course, the debate rages from region to region over the correct approaches to hoppin' John. Must the peas be served with rice? Should they actually be cooked with rice? Are tomatoes a key ingredient, and if so, should they be stewed and spooned over the peas and rice or simply chopped raw over the top? Should the peas be cooked till they're almost mushy or just al dente? Herbs added? Everything cooked in a saucepan or cast–iron skillet? Here's the way I do hoppin' John, which is wonderful with baked spareribs or braised country ham or chitlins — or anything else you can think of.

A cook's dream: The base is made ahead, and the shrimp are added at the last minute. Best of all, the gumbo tastes even better the second day.

Editor's note: The recipe and introductory text below are from The Joy of Cooking, 75th Anniversary Edition: 4500 Recipes for the Way We Cook Now by Irma S. Rombauer, Marion Rombauer Becker, and Ethan Becker. To read Epicurious's review of the cookbook, go to The Best Cookbooks of 2006. This rich, spicy cheese spread appeared in some fashion in JOY from 1931 until the 1960s. The 1936 edition declared it "a grand cheese spread for hot or cold sandwiches."

Surprise your party host with a jar of this ruby-red jelly — its sweet heat flavors pair beautifully with soft cheeses.

This satisfying stew just may be the essence of Cajun cooking: shrimp with onion, celery, and green pepper, all given depth by brown roux and livened up with cayenne.