Buttermilk

My friends Larry Butler and Carol Ann Sayle, owners of Boggy Creek Farm in Austin, sell the most fabulous smoked tomatoes. I’ve used them to enhance meat dishes and salads. But I’d never tried them in a bread or scone, so I came up with this recipe to showcase them. As soon as the first fragrant scone came out of the oven, I knew I’d be delighted with the result. I even devised a way to use the day-old scones to stuff my Three Pigs pork tenderloin (page 33). As much as I love Larry’s smoked tomatoes, I must admit the scones are delicious made with any high-quality sun dried tomatoes.

This cold soup is yet another use for the exploding basil in my garden. I created it for a backyard party that Country Living photographed for a summertime issue. There’s something special and a little bit elegant about starting an alfresco party meal with soup. Texas summers are so hot that I always like to offer something refreshing right off the bat. The gorgeous green color of this soup is set off beautifully by stark white serving bowls.

After handing guests a drink, I often like to offer them a special morsel of food to perk up their taste buds and to make everyone feel at home. My friend and Austin farmer extraordinaire Carol Anne Sayle shared this recipe, and it warmed my southern gal’s heart. (For skeptics, these little pancakes do not suffer from the slime factor some associate with okra.) I served these at my annual garden party for chefs and friends, and people couldn’t get enough. The trick is to serve them hot off the griddle, so make sure you have someone to fry them in a skillet, and someone else to pass them around while they’re still hot. For this kind of job, I often enlist a shy guest or two. It keeps them busy, and frees them from the stress of having to make small talk. I’ve found that people will eat as many of these as they can get, but one or two per person is plenty and when they’re gone, they’re gone. (The recipe doubles easily if you’re serving a crowd, though.) I have added a little touch of my own to Carol Anne’s recipe. My garden was producing way more jalapeños than I could manage, so I decided to pickle them. I tossed a few chopped, pickled chiles into Carol Anne’s pancakes and loved the result. You can leave them out if you like.

The sheep is one of the first animals domesticated by mankind. For about ten thousand years, we’ve been living together and feeding each other. The true testament to the strength of our relationship is that it hasn’t changed much. The passion is still alive. One secret to this longlived tryst is that sheep are uniquely unwilling to give up their sheepy flavor, so that every time we eat them it’s like a first date, or the first time, or an earlier time, or a mythic time. We’ve domesticated the gaminess out of most everything we eat, but every time we toss a leg of lamb on the fire we grow bushy and wild, our countenance waxing fierce amid the ghostly tendrils of burning fat and smoky mountain herbs. And after we toil over the flaming coals, the table is laid, the tapers lit, the dark wine poured. Aromatic and rackling—golden on the outside; savagely, voluptuously rosy on the inside—a leg of lamb is a meal of the ages. Salting a leg of lamb should be approached with anticipation and reverence; this is one of the truly sacred uses of a coarse and lusciously moist salt—in other words, sel gris—in both the cooking and the inishing of the food. Any good, moist sel gris will work here, but I cannot resist calling for my own true love, the rather obscure but sublimely supple salt we have adopted as our house sel gris at The Meadow. The zesty flavors of Parameswaran’s pepper—a whirl of eucalyptus, celery seed, lemon peel, and cedar—is likewise a point of precision that can lend yet more depth to the flavors of the dish.

You wouldn’t believe how hard it is to make a good banana cake. I’m talking about a sheet cake that tastes like banana bread, but not too dry, not too tough, and not dense and fudgy, like the dead center of banana bread can be at times. For weeks, maybe even a month, we worked on a banana cake in the basement of Ko. It felt like a lifetime—and still we weren’t getting anywhere close. That is, until Emily, our extern, came in with her mother’s sacred banana cake recipe. We adapted it, but this recipe belongs to the heart of her family. Mrs. Kritemeyer, we love you!

We use cake scraps in our kitchen for just about anything. Really. Even ice creams, where they add body, texture, and depth of flavor. We put chocolate cake scraps in the red velvet ice cream because we want it to taste like red velvet cake. We also like to take it too far and swirl red velvet ice cream with cream cheese frosting ice cream.

Happy birthday, Dave Chang! That’s what the kitchen screamed when we first made this cake. Marian was in charge of making boss man a birthday cake. She told me she channeled her innermost version of me, sprinkled chocolate chips into a vanilla cake batter we were going to use as a coconut cake, and layered it with liquid cheesecake and anything else she could find in the fridge; in other words, she followed to a tee our standard operating procedure for any birthday cake in our kitchen. Now even the Momofuku savory cooks know this cake by heart. It is a snack attack waiting to happen, so you may want to consider making a double batch of batter and baking the cake in a half sheet pan.

This recipe is a new twist on one in The Lady & Sons Savannah Country Cookbook. Dip into the Dijon sauce with care—it’s a little on the hot side. We like to put a small dollop of roasted red pepper vinaigrette on each tomato slice.

Since the invention of the nonstick electric waffle iron, making homemade waffles is a breeze. You can freeze these waffles for up to a month. Baking them in a preheated 350°F oven will quickly restore them to their irresistibly crisp, buttery state.

A generous measure of blueberries—two full cups—ensures a juicy mouthful of berries with every bite. Use fresh berries when they are in season, or frozen if fresh seasonal berries are unavailable. There is no need to thaw frozen berries before using them. You can keep the cooked pancakes, loosely covered with a clean kitchen towel, for 15 minutes in a 200°F oven. Serve with Roasted Asparagus and Leek Frittata (page 96).