Cast Iron Skillet

Although store-bought English muffins may look easy to make, they’re tricky to do at home, especially if you want to get the spongelike nooks and crannies that trap butter and jam and are the key to their popularity. This version is a cross between a crumpet and a roll. On the inside, it’s soft and custardy with lots of pockets, but the outside is chewy and nicely caramelized. I took inspiration from a recipe I saw on the wonderful e-group The Bread-Baker’s List (you can sign up at www.bread-bakers.com). That recipe was sent in by Werner Gansz, who clearly spent a lot of time thinking it through. Although this formula is different from his, I thank him for getting me excited about English muffins all over again, and for his inventive method, from which I’ve borrowed many ideas. Thanks also to recipe tester Lucille Johnston, who made it her personal mission to perfect this recipe. You’ll need crumpet rings or something similar to make these, as the dough is thin and batterlike (it later sets up into a soft, sticky dough), so it must be confined by a form. The rings are readily available at cookware stores, but you can also use the rims of quart-size canning jars. They’re shorter than crumpet rings but still work quite well. You’ll need to plan ahead in order to follow the process correctly. If you have a flat griddle pan or electric griddle, this is the ideal time to use it, as making these muffins is similar to making pancakes. You can also use a large cast-iron or steel skillet. Other items you’ll also need on hand are a metal spatula, and a 1/3-cup measure for portioning and pouring the dough. Finally, you will need cornmeal to give the tops and bottoms of the English muffins an authentic look.

I get emails all the time asking for Philadelphia-style hoagie and cheesesteak rolls. There is something about the cultural connection we Philly folk have with these iconic sandwiches that makes many people believe that Philadelphia’s Amoroso’s Baking Company is the only place to find a good hoagie roll, which is, of course, not true. The key to this type of roll is a nice balance of texture and flavor, somewhere between lean dough and soft enriched dough, with just enough “chew” to stand up to the fillings without making it overly hard to eat the darn thing. The overnight fermentation method is ideal for this because it brings out maximum flavor with very little hands-on time. The optional barley malt syrup provides a nice undertone of flavor that’s difficult to identify and also helps with crust color. This dough also makes great Kaiser rolls.

Fresh local grapes are an uncelebrated fall fruit, mostly because of their chewy skin and intrusive seeds. But grapes that aren’t ideal for snacking can be more fragrant and sweet than table grapes, and their acidity balances pleasingly with rich roasted chicken. Choose from any white, green, or red variety that’s native to your region. Depending on their sweetness, adjust the amount of honey in the recipe. You may use bottled, unsweetened white grape juice instead of fresh grapes. For a comforting cold-weather meal, serve with Watercress Mashed Potatoes (page 185) and Sweet Potato and Cranberry Cornmeal Biscuits (page 189).

Cornbread was for many years the basic bread of the rural South, the very poor South. I mentioned earlier that cornbread and barbecue are close to being religion in the South. But, for years, cornbread was the primitive Baptist to the Episcopalian biscuit, the all-night tent revival to the ladies’ prayer luncheon. Cornmeal griddle cakes are the most basic of Southern breads. Biscuits require expensive dairy products, while cornmeal griddle cakes, also known as hoe cakes, can be made with little more than meal, a bit of oil, and water. The batter should be quite soupy, but not watery. When the batter hits the hot oil the edges sizzle and become very crisp. For best results, be sure to cook the cakes until the edges are a deep, rich, golden brown. Meme always served them as a very quick bread on the side. They are especially delicious when used to sop up juices and gravy.

One of my favorite possessions is my grandmother’s cast-iron skillet. It’s more precious to me than the antique bone china that I also inherited. To think of all the fried chicken and cornbread it has held is amazing. Several years ago, I returned home to Georgia after living in New York City, and I carried my treasured skillet in a blanket on my lap practically the whole trip. It is almost like my sacred talisman. No one will dare touch it when we are cleaning up from dinner. If I leave the room, I return to a spotless kitchen with a dirty cast-iron skillet on the stovetop. No one wants the responsibility. It sounds severe, but a little fear is fine with me. When properly seasoned over time, cast iron develops a virtually nonstick surface that only improves with use. To clean cast-iron cookware, wash with a nonabrasive sponge and warm soapy water. Rinse it well. To prevent rust, make sure the piece is completely dry before you store it. As insurance, I usually place mine in a warm oven for a little while to fully dry out. Cast iron is great for baking cornbread, pan-frying, and sauteing. It is a little slow to heat up, but once it does, it heats evenly and stays hotter longer. Cast iron is inexpensive and can be found at hardware and cookware stores.

I could make a meal out of just buttered cornbread. Except perhaps for barbecue, cornbread is as close to religion in the South as any particular food gets. At the top of the list of cornbread sins is adding sugar. You will notice a complete lack of sugar in this cornbread recipe. Sugar is more often found in what is referred to derisively as “Yankee cornbread.” Adherents of white versus yellow cornmeal are like Methodists and Baptists: some think you’re going to hell if you follow one path and not the other. I am of the white cornmeal sect. The theory is that white corn was less hybridized and closer to the original grain than yellow. Plain white cornmeal can be surprisingly tricky to find, even in Atlanta; most of what lines the grocery store shelves is a mix or self-rising, which already contains the leavener that makes the cornmeal rise. Although yellow and white cornmeal are interchangeable, plain and self-rising cornmeal are not. Warming the skillet and bacon grease or butter in the oven prepares the skillet for baking and melts the fat. Most often, I use butter. I like to let it get just barely nutty brown on the edges. The brown flecks give the cornbread extra color and flavor.

Dede always grew okra, and I usually have a few plants every summer. Once, I grew them in container boxes on the roof of my apartment in New Jersey, framed by the Manhattan skyline. Guests were astonished at the sight when we would go out on the deck. The plants are beautiful, sometimes growing to five feet tall with pale yellow blossoms similar to hibiscus. When I was working in France for Anne Willan, we once needed okra for a recipe test. It was nowhere to be found in the local markets, so we ordered a case from Rungis, the French wholesale market on the outskirts of Paris, only to use less than a pound! The gumbo was a disappointment, falling short of Anne’s strict standards. Since we had almost a full case to use, I made this fried okra, which Anne called “popcorn fried okra.” It was a huge hit. I can pretty much guarantee that this was the only time in history fried okra was enjoyed as a snack with apéritifs before dinner. I called Meme every week to tell her about my work and what I had learned. When I told her about the “popcorn fried okra,” she giggled like a schoolgirl.

Cornmeal-coated fried fish is a product of modest country living: fish were free and cornmeal was cheap. You will not feel poor at all if you try these crusty fillets with Grits with Corn and Vidalia Onion (page 156) for a satisfying supper. This fried grouper also makes an excellent fish sandwich accompanied by homemade mayonnaise (page 282), lettuce, and tomato. Or you can dress it up by serving the fish on a bed of vegetable slaw (page 38). Fried fish with grits is another Southern classic that is good for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. If grouper is unavailable (which is likely, since it is overfished), or you would like to use a more sustainable fish, try mahi-mahi, wild striped bass, or wreckfish.

For years, I assumed that since my grandfather was a country boy who had grown up on the river, he had hunted his entire life. But he only started hunting deer as an adult. Actually, he killed his first deer while fishing. A deer started swimming toward the boat. Dede had a fishing pole, but no gun. The story goes that he reached out with his mammoth hands, grabbed the deer’s rack of antlers, and held the large buck’s head under water until he quit fighting. Dede then towed the deer back to shore, old man and the sea, Southern style. The quality of venison depends on the age of the animal, its diet, and the time of the year the animal was hunted. The meat is very lean, yet the flavor is more assertive than beef. If you are unable to find venison, substitute boneless rib-eye steaks rather than top round, the more common cut for country-fried steak, and too tough. I’ve jazzed Mama’s recipe up a little bit with mustard and panko.

A simple meal of fried fatback, braised cabbage, and a wedge of cornmeal was one of Meme’s stand-by suppers and is seriously old-fashioned country food. Fatback is the layer of fat that extends the length of a hog’s back. It is available fresh, meaning unsalted, uncured, and unsmoked. Fatback with the rind is used for making cracklings, which are fried pork skins with a bit of tooth to them, commonly eaten as a snack (yes, still), or baked into cornbread.

One of the keys to frying meat is having the oil at the right temperature (about 375°F) so it “sings” when you add the meat. At a lower temperature, meat will cook slowly and stew rather than fry, absorbing the oil and becoming greasy and heavy. Meat, fish, and vegetables begin to brown at around 230°F. The transformation that develops the characteristic brown color of foods cooked on the grill, in the oven, or in oil is called the “Maillard reaction.”

As everyone knows, the best part of an upside-down cake is the caramelized bits of topping and batter that get stuck in the bottom of the pan after the cake is unmolded. Instead of eating these bits, the right thing to do is to scrape them out and smear them back onto the warm cake. If you can do that, you’re a better person than I.

An Italian acquaintance once pleaded, “Please—tell your American friends not to bring us any more maple syrup. Basta!” At first, I didn’t quite understand. I mean, who doesn’t love maple syrup? But then I remembered that while we Americans love to douse everything we can with the sticky stuff, Italians take their infamous 30-second breakfast by downing a quick espresso at their corner caffè and never belly up to a stack of pancakes or plate of waffles in the morning. Since I’m not Italian, any gifts of maple syrup are encouraged. And I promise not to save it just for breakfast.

Working with a superhot pan is key to getting a nice crust on the outside of your fish without overcooking the inside. A quick sear on each side leaves the interior quite rare, so make sure you are working with only the freshest sushi-grade tuna.

Soaking the cornmeal in buttermilk is a tip I picked up from my good friend Peter Reinhart’s epic tome, The Bread Baker’s Apprentice. The wonderful flavor it imparts and the texture it lends might keep you from ever considering using another boxed cornbread mix.

I first became interested in soccas (chickpea flour crepes) because they are allergen-free, glutenfree, low-carb, high-protein, and delicious! Soccas go back to at least 1860. They are from southern France, but were most likely an import from northern Africa, where they eat a lot of chickpeas. In the nineteenth century, there were socca sellers at the markets and at work sites, where they provided the morning meal to the workers. The socca sellers used special wagons with built-in charcoal ovens to keep their wares hot while they announced them with the appropriate cries of “Socca! Socca! Socca!” I have kept my socca recipe simple, because I like the rustic flavor. You can top it with olive oil, salt, and fresh pepper, or go all out, topping it with things like caramelized onions and grilled red peppers.

This is our Granny Paul’s recipe for fried chicken, and it’s as simple a taste of Southern home cooking as there ever could be. Serve it with collard greens and some mashed potatoes, and before you know it you’ll be whistlin’ “Dixie.” And you don’t need to save this meal for Sunday suppers—if you’re short on time, just skip the refrigeration and season the chicken right before you fry it to have yourself a down-home after-work treat.

Cornbread is the Southern starch; it’s been in the South as long as there have been cooks to make it. Some people I know still call it corn pone. I always cook it in a well-seasoned cast-iron skillet and add my secret ingredient: cracklin’s. These are fried pieces of pork skin, and they are incredibly delicious; they’re the by-product of rendering pig skin for fat, and because I cook a lot of whole hogs I have the makings for them around all the time. If you don’t, feel free to substitute some nice crispy bacon instead. You might also add some chopped red bell pepper for a change and some color.