Cornmeal

My mother-in-law is a wonderful woman, very sweet, kind, and generous. Her late husband was the cook in the family, and even she admits she is not much of a cook. She experienced a little culinary serendipity when sauteing okra one night. She put a little too much oil in the pan, so she added a bit of cornmeal to soak up the excess oil. It was wonderful, a modified version of fried okra that is not only somewhat healthier than deep-fried okra, but also less labor-intensive. Maybe she is just bluffing about not being a cook, after all.

Spoon bread is more like custard than bread, and less like a casserole than a soufflé. As the name suggests, it’s soft enough to eat with a spoon. Spoon bread is more common in Virginia, Maryland, and Kentucky. Berea, Kentucky, in the south central portion of the state, actually boasts a spoon bread festival. The key to this recipe is using very fine cornmeal for a smooth, creamy texture. If you are unable to find fine meal in the supermarket, try Mexican or South American groceries. Also, adding a bit of fresh corn when in season really makes this spoon bread delicious. Some recipes call for baking powder for lift, but in this recipe, with a nod to my French training, I use beaten egg whites.

For an over-the-top po’ boy, try these crabs in a French loaf dressed with shredded lettuce and sliced tomato, or serve them on a bed of heart-healthy Classic Cole Slaw (page 35) for a new Southern twist on an old favorite.

Po’ boy sandwiches are found all along the Gulf Coast and are a New Orleans tradition. There are various tales about the origin of the name: that it’s a slang version of “poor boy” and the sandwich used to be an inexpensive, yet filling meal; that the sandwich was given out to streetcar workers on strike, who were essentially poor boys; or that it is a bastardized version of the French “pour boire.” This last theory holds that the sandwich was a sort of olive branch that men would bring home after a night of drinking and carousing around town. Whatever the name’s origin, it is an excellent sandwich. Although one can find roast beef and gravy po’ boys or fried potato and gravy po’ boys, possibly the most popular version of this iconic Louisiana treat is fried seafood po’ boys made with shrimp and oysters from the Gulf. The key to light and crispy fried food is to use the right oil. Peanut oil is a great choice for frying: it has a mild, pleasant flavor; does not take on the tastes of foods as readily as other oils do; and has a smoke point of about 450°F, meaning you can safely heat it to a very high temperature.

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.

The fish fry is right up on the list of orchestrated Southern feasts, along with the “pig pull” and “dinner on the grounds.” It’s a great party and wildly different from throwing a few burgers on the grill. And fried fish are just flat-out good. My grandparents met at a fish fry in 1930 and were inseparable through almost 65 years of marriage. They were a great team but there was no doubt who was the boss. For as long as I can remember, they had a motor home. They drove as far south as the Yucatan Peninsula in Mexico and to Fairbanks at the far end of the Alaska Highway, where they caught a small plane to the North Pole. I was able to take several long trips with them when I was young. Once the three of us drove north, through Detroit into Canada, east to Nova Scotia, where we caught the ferry to Newfoundland. We were on the one main road in Newfoundland to St. John’s and were about halfway across the island when Meme looked at my grandfather and said, “Sam, pull over in that gas station. I’m ready to go home.” He did, and we did.

The name of this dessert or breakfast treat comes from colonial settlers in New England who substituted corn, or “Indian meal,” to make English pudding when wheat flour was in short supply. The pudding is sublime when served with clotted cream, whipped cream, or vanilla ice cream.

Steaming bread in the slow cooker is a terrific, hassle-free way to bake bread of all kinds. Traditionally, the batter for this brown bread was poured into coffee cans and placed in deep kettles filled with water, then hung for hours over the fire to steam. Serve it with New England Baked Beans (opposite page) or toasted for breakfast with cream cheese.

This bread pudding is savory, not sweet. A melding of the delicious southwestern flavors of corn, chiles, coriander, cumin, and cheese, it makes a wonderful side dish to a roasted loin of pork or beef.

My mom calls this chili, but my dad insists it’s Mexican spaghetti. I don’t care what they call it; anything that’s super simple, delicious, and makes a lot is a winner in my book. As an added bonus, the ingredients are cheap and it can be made up to a day ahead and reheated. The green chile cornbread goes perfectly with the chili, but if you prefer you can leave out the chiles or heat it up with a finely diced jalapeño.

When we were on a family vacation in New Orleans we came across a store in the French Quarter that had daily cooking classes. We decided to sign up for a class (it got us out of going to another museum with our dad), and it turned out to be a blast. We learned to make several different Cajun dishes, but this was my favorite. I love the beans, but we also learned the secret to making the best cornbread ever—add lots of milk and sprinkle sugar on the top.

Cornmeal is often thought of as purely an American ingredient, probably because of our infatuation with cornbread, but Italians love cornmeal as much as we do. It’s not unusual in Italian bakeries to see rows of golden cakes and baskets of crumbly cookies made with polenta and sometimes flavored with a pour of olive oil, just in case you forget you’re in Italy. A bit of minced fresh rosemary infuses this cake with a familiar, yet elusive flavor. I wouldn’t dream of leaving the rosemary out. Polenta gives the cake a rustic feel; you can use stone-ground cornmeal instead to make a cake with a more refined texture that retains that agreeable crunch. As for the olive oil, use one that’s strong and fruity; its flavor is more important than its provenance.

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.

These are some of my favorite muffins. The quinoa flour and cornmeal give them a beautiful golden color and a nice texture, a perfect combination with the juicy blueberries.

Cornbread is one of those foods people get mighty opinionated about, as in “Nobody makes cornbread as good as my (momma, grammy, Uncle Phoebus, just fill in the blank).” Not only that, but once someone gets a beloved piece of that cornbread in their hands, well, as one writer said, “If you try to take my cornbread, there will be consequences and repercussions.” I think of cornbread a bit like barbecue: Just about every region of the country has its variation, which, as if ordained from above, is simply the best. Cornbread, cornpone, jonnycakes, hush puppies—the names and approaches differ, but not the devotion. My version is California-style, as in how do we keep all of that awesome taste while using healthier ingredients? Using some spelt flour helps, as does using just a bit of organic maple syrup as a sweetener and extra-virgin olive oil in place of butter. The lemon zest allowed me to put the word “beyond” into the title of this recipe. If you’ll allow me to play yenta, I’d match the cornbread with the Rockin’ Black Bean Soup (page 71). They’re a very happy couple.

This rustic free-form tart is great with raspberries, but you can just as easily substitute blueberries or blackberries. The cornmeal gives the crust a slightly crunchy texture, which complements the berries beautifully.

My son Monte and I both love fresh apricots. Living in Southern California, we’re lucky to get them in abundance. I created this recipe for him. He loves the subtly sweet cornmeal muffin punctuated by bites of tart apricot. (Okay, I admit I’m paraphrasing—he is only five.)

Moist and flavorful, these muffins pair nicely with bean soups. Try them with Long-Simmering Black Bean Soup (page 38).

These offbeat little griddle biscuits pair well with bean soups, purees, and soups that feature root vegetables.

Try serving this offbeat pan bread, studded with pink beans and scallions, with hearty vegetable soups and stews. I especially like this with soups that feature corn and/or squash.