Green Cabbage

Rice is king in the Vietnamese kitchen, but wheat also plays a role in foods such as these steamed buns. A classic Viet riff on Chinese bao, the buns encase a hearty vegetable-and-meat mixture, with a creamy wedge of hard-boiled egg in the center. Traditional bao are made from a yeast-leavened dough, but many Vietnamese Americans leaven the dough with baking powder. This New World innovation is faster and the dough is easier to manipulate. The buns are also more stable in the steamer than the yeasted version, which can sometimes deflate during cooking. Viet delis sell soft ball-sized bánh bao, but I prefer more manageable baseball-sized ones. I use bleached all-purpose flour, which yields slightly lighter-colored buns than unbleached flour. Like all bao, these buns are great for breakfast, lunch, or a snack. They will keep in the refrigerator (stored in an airtight container) for a few days and are easily reheated, making them a great homemade fast food. For additional flavor, serve them with a simple dipping sauce of soy sauce and freshly cracked black pepper.

Unlike the other salads in this chapter, this one uses vinegar in the dressing, rather than lime juice, for its tart edge. Raw cabbage and vinegar are great partners here, just as they are in any coleslaw. Using a mortar to make the dressing is important, as it allows the garlic and chile to bloom. First, pound the garlic and chile. When they have broken up, switch to a circular motion, using the pestle to mash the mixture against the curved walls of the mortar, an action Vietnamese cooks refer to as smearing (quet) food. A richly hued orange-red paste emerges that has a perfume and flavor that cannot be achieved with a machine or hand chopping.

Because cool-season crops such as cabbage and cauliflower are difficult to grow in Vietnam, they enjoy a special status. In fact, my dad remembers how his mother carefully tended the cabbage heads in the family garden, covering each one with a cooking pot to encourage the leaves to curl. When we came to the States and found cabbage so readily available, my mother began fixing this easy stir-fry regularly for our weeknight suppers. I have since followed suit, and also sometimes serve it as a simple lunch with rice. The naturally sweet and spicy cabbage ribbons are enriched by a coating of egg, while a final splash of fish sauce adds a nutty, briny flavor.

Instructed by my mother to feed the cats, I would push the door open, inch by inch, watching the sliver of light from the kitchen stab into the darkness, waiting for it to widen gradually into a triangle across the floor, bright enough to reassure me that nothing was going to attack my hand as it darted through the gap to flip on the light switch inside the garage. For a month every year, our garage changed from a dark and hazardous clutter of bikes, chainsaws, and gardening equipment to a truly terrifying place. Even in daylight I avoided the place, but when obliged to enter—such as when forced to feed the cats (whom I’d gladly have let starve), or if I really needed a bike or a skateboard—I kept a keen eye on the cinder block and plank shelves at the back, where malevolent orange enamel pots burped with sinister unpredictability. Days went by. Cobwebs formed (the better to ensnare the cats). Whenever I might show the slightest hint of getting on familiar terms with this horror—of letting down my guard—the pots would burp again, the lids would clatter, the cats would scatter, trailing cobwebs into the attic, and I would fly to my mother’s legs and cling to them so tightly that she’d shriek in alarm. My reward for surviving? A measured respect for the mysteries of fermentation and a tangy mound of steaming sauerkraut bedded with boiled Polish and German sausages. It was worth it.

Savannah holds the second largest St. Patrick’s Day celebration in the United States. It is quite a sight to see: Our city turns green and corned beef and cabbage is everyone’s favorite dish for the day.

Early January 2008 and I am having my annual tidy up of the pantry. The “lentil shuffle” as I call it, as that is basically what the job entails. Sorting out the pantry always results in my making something bean or lentil oriented. I think it must remind me of just how many I have. What follows is a rather hot bean curry. You could cool its ardor by skipping a chile or two. The greens offer a hit of cool freshness on top of the substantial and deeply spiced beans. A speedier version, suitable for a midweek supper, can be made with canned beans. There is no real reason why you shouldn’t use any dried or canned beans you wish here. Chickpeas will work well too. If I do decide to open a can instead, then I use three 14-ounce (400g) cans.

Credit my Irish-Italian, Chicago-native wife, Kathy, for inspiring this dish. She loves corned beef, a Windy City favorite, so I’ve cooked it many times for my family. But I’ve always thought it was a shame that we enjoyed the delicious brisket but ignored the flavorful cooking broth, which typically isn’t consumed. So I thought, look at it the Japanese way—add noodles. I tried it and it tasted fantastic. So now when I make corned beef, my Irish-Italian-Japanese children always look forward to corned beef broth noodles with leftovers the next day. This dish takes time to cook slowly, but it’s easy to prepare. You can also use leftover corned beef for hash and sandwiches.

There are three kinds of Southern slaws: barbecue slaw, cole slaw, and yellow slaw. Barbecue slaw is a western North Carolina tradition made with chopped cabbage, pungent vinegar, and red pepper. Cole slaw is what most people in Georgia consider slaw—primarily cabbage and mayonnaise. Yellow, or mustard, slaw is more commonly found in South Carolina and eastern North Carolina (its main ingredients are cabbage and mustard). Try a spoonful of this slaw on Pulled Pork Sandwiches with Mama’s Barbecue Sauce (page 81) for a sloppy, glorious treat.

As in many Asian-style soups, this ingredient list may look long, but it’s a snap to prepare. Adding any of the optional ingredients gives this soup a deeper and more authentic flavor.

This is a basic stock that may be used in place of water in most any vegetable soup to give added depth of flavor. It’s also a good way to use up vegetables that are limp or less than perfectly fresh.

My grandmother used to spend all day making her Old World cabbage rolls stuffed with ground beef, onions, rice, and raisins. We all loved them, but I don’t have the time or the patience to do it her way. Feel free to substitute chopped mushrooms in place of the ground meat for a vegetarian version. Hope you enjoy my take on this heirloom recipe!

Coleslaw is an extremely time-honored side dish that is served with all sorts of things in the South. Cole is actually an old English word for “cabbage,” which is of course what coleslaw is always made out of. This is my very favorite coleslaw recipe. In the South, creamy slaws like this one are traditional with fish dinners, and this is the slaw we always serve at our fish fries. It is served cold and smooth and is just perfect with fried fish and hushpuppies. Vinegar-based slaw is the classic to go with barbecue, but this one happens to taste great with barbecued meats, too.

Some simply don’t have the patience to wait the weeks necessary for sauerkraut to ferment, but we prefer this old-school way of preparing it. The wait was actually a big part of the fun when Crystal was a kid (apparently there wasn’t much to do in the North Georgia mountains).

On the few nights that he is not at Lantern, Miguel cooks Mexican at home. He has not seen his family since moving to North Carolina in 1999, and the goal of his home cooking is to make his dishes taste as close to his mother’s and grandmother’s as possible with the ingredients he can get here. He thinks that he is getting close with these carnitas.

Colcannon is a traditional Irish dish of boiled potatoes mashed with green onions, leeks or sometimes chives, kale or cabbage, and milk or cream. I like mine extremely green, with lots of black pepper.

Coleslaw is probably the side dish most often associated with barbecue, and its simple flavors match so well with smoked meat. The most common varieties include vinegar-based, mayonnaise-based, and mustard-based. Big Bob Gibson realized the harmonious relationship between slaw and barbecue early on. When he opened his first restaurant, vinegar slaw and Golden Flake potato chips were his only side-dish offerings, and a sweet tangy scoop of his coleslaw graced every barbecue sandwich that left the kitchen. As he told his customers, “If ya don’t like slaw, scrape it off!” Very little has changed in more than eighty years at the restaurant, including Big Bob’s original coleslaw recipe.

When it comes to side dishes, Big Bob felt keeping it simple was the way to go. Consequently you won’t find a long list of accompaniments to choose from on our menu, just potato salad, slaw, baked beans, and potato chips. His original vinegar-based coleslaw (see page 176), made from only four ingredients, was the only slaw that was ever used in the restaurant. In 2003, Martha Stewart wanted to feature some of our favorite Southern-style sides on her television show and requested both baked bean and slaw recipes. We happily sent her recipes for half the side dishes on our menu. The next day we learned the show preferred we give them a “customary” mustard-based slaw typical of the Memphis Barbecue Region. I’d never heard of such a slaw, but who can argue with Martha Stewart? Thus was Crisp Spicy Southern Mustard Coleslaw born. The recipe has since been served to raves at the James Beard Foundation in New York City and at the South Beach Wine and Food Festival.