Sausage

A damp January morning (2006) and a walk round the vegetable patch reveals only two herbs in reasonable condition: rosemary, which loses some of its potency in winter, and parsley, most of which has collapsed in a dead faint to the ground. I value both enormously, feeling even now that they have an edge on the imported basil and spindly thyme in the markets. Both respond well to earthy winter cooking. Chilled to the bone (I find it’s the damp that gets to me more than the temperature), I come in and use the parsley where it really matters: in a pan of braised artichokes and pork sausage, whose brown depths I freshen up with Italian lemons and, at its side, some crisp and chewy greens.

Many of my most pleasing suppers have been one-off, chucked-together affairs made with whatever was to hand. A question of making do. I rarely write them down, assuming that no one else will be interested in something that simply filled a hole with whatever happened to be around at the time. This was one of those meals, taken as lunch in early March when the cupboard was pretty bare, but I thought I would pass it on for its frugal, done-in-a minute quality and as yet another opportunity to do something with the celery root that turns up in the organic veg box.

The frugality implied in the words “cabbage soup” appeals to me just as much as the fanciful descriptions of Michelin-starred menus. The words evoke a rich simplicity where nothing unnecessary intrudes. This is indeed a soup of extraordinary solace, gratifying in its purity. The stark fact that this was a meal formed in poverty is there for all to see. Portugal has a cabbage soup, perhaps the best known of all, caldo verde. It is made with couve gallego, a yellow-flowered kale, whose leaves are flatter and less plumelike than the kale we generally buy in the market. The other ingredients are from the pantry, but should include a few slices of chorizo if the soup is to have any authenticity. This soup works with any coarse-textured greens and eminently, I think, with Savoy cabbage.

Southerners love a casserole. They are church supper staples, great to take to the new neighbor, and equally welcome to a new mom. Cheddar, sometimes called “rat cheese” in the South, ranges in flavor from mild, nutty, and creamy to extra-sharp, rich, and robust. Gruyère is a low-moisture cow’s milk cheese from eastern France and western Switzerland. It has a sweet, rich, almost nutty flavor and is excellent for a cheese sauce. Cheddar cheese is more Southern, though, if you wanted to stay truer to those roots. Turkey sausage is much lower in fat than sausage made from pork and other kinds of meat. Use country-style or coarse-ground sausage, and if purchased in links, remove it from the casing before cooking.

This famous New Orleans dish was originally served on Mondays, utilizing the ham bone left over from Sunday supper. Very low maintenance, it simmered on the stove all day while the women washed the family’s laundry and hung it out to dry. Although for the most part, Monday wash day is a thing of the past, red beans and rice is still often served as a lunch or dinner special at many New Orleans restaurants. Dishes of rice and beans are part of rustic country cooking in the Caribbean and all over the world. The inexpensive combination of rice and beans supplies essential amino acids not often found in plant proteins, and more readily found in expensive meat proteins. For the ham bone, traditional recipes now often substitute spicy boudin, smoked sausage, or Cajun andouille. Boudin is a spicy pork sausage with onion, rice, and herbs. Cajun andouille is a highly seasoned smoked sausage made from pork, whereas French andouille is made from the stomach and intestines. The andouille of Guémené, France, is crafted so that the intestines are placed inside one another, giving it the appearance of concentric circles before it is dried and smoked. This is potent stuff. I am always willing to try anything once, including chilled slices of smoked pig’s intestines. Let’s just put it this way, I’d rather have a heaping bowl of Mama’s Red Beans and Rice, and I’m not asking for seconds of French andouille any time soon.

When I was young, we spent many weekends at the Indian Creek Recreation Area, about ten miles south of Alexandria, Louisiana. In the spring, at the height of crawfish season, several families would get together and have a crawfish boil. I remember a huge pot practically the size of a bathtub filled with bright red crawfish, halved ears of yellow corn, sweet onions, whole new potatoes in the skin, and thick links of sausage, all bubbling in broth. The picnic tables were covered with newspapers and one of the men would dump a steaming basket of the potent mixture into the center of each. We’d gather around and eat, peeling the meat from the tails and sucking on the heads to get every last bit of the peppery juice. Crawfish are also known as mudbugs, crawdads, and crayfish. These freshwater crustaceans, in season from December to May, range in size from three to six inches and weigh from two to eight ounces. This recipe would be equally delicious made with blue or Dungeness crabs.

Strata is the plural of stratum, and whether we’re talking about rocks or recipes, it refers to layering. Here, it is a breakfast casserole layered and bound with custard, almost like a savory bread pudding. What’s great about a strata is that it should be prepared and refrigerated the night before. The next morning, all you need to do is let it come to room temperature on the counter and bake. I’ve used fresh sage, an herb with soft, fuzzy gray-green leaves and a slightly bitter finish, to complement the flavor of the sausage and create another layer of flavor. It goes well with poultry, pork, and veal. Look for fresh bunches with no bruising and a clean, pungent aroma.

Mama found the original of this recipe on the back of a box of Bisquick, a premixed baking product containing flour, shortening, salt, and leavening. According to General Mills, the recipe continues to be one of their most popular. Mama added pecans to the sausage balls, which she served during the holidays and at cocktail parties. I made a few additional changes and developed this “from scratch” version. This recipe works best if you grate the cheese yourself rather than buying it already grated, which is coated to keep the pieces from sticking together. You can add additional cayenne if you like, or use extra hot sausage.

Although this dish has its origins in the Caribbean, it can be found in Florida and any other area in which there are Jamaican or Caribbean immigrants. It makes a hearty side and a good accompaniment to roasted pork loin.

This dish pays homage to the many German immigrants that have made their homes in the Midwest and the northern states over the last two hundred years. While fine German bratwurst is to die for, any high-quality sausage will taste wonderful in this hearty dish.

Because they were generally planted and harvested together and subsequently combined in meals, beans, corn, and squash are known fondly as the three sisters of agriculture to Native Americans of the southwestern United States. Together here they make a healthy, hearty stew.

This is an incredibly satisfying stew that gets better as it ages, so think about making extra to keep as leftovers. The smoky chipotles add a depth of flavor along with a spicy heat. To tame the heat, you can reduce the number of chipotles or serve the stew with Mexican crema.

Mexicans refer to this dish as manchamanteles or “tablecloth stainer” due to the delicious deep red sauce that is made from dried chiles and spices. The sauce has an underlying sweetness that is very addicting. And because this dish improves with age, you can make it days in advance or enjoy left-overs days later.

Talk about a crowd-pleaser. This version of a fundido—a Mexican fondue—is incredibly addicting. I challenge you to walk away from this melted gooey cheese mixed with meaty chorizo and spicy poblano chile strips. It is impossible!

I fell in love with this dish the first time I tried it in New Orleans. The combination of rice, tomatoes, shrimp, chicken, and andouille sausage is the epitome of Cajun cooking. This version isn’t particularly spicy, so make sure to serve it with some hot sauce on the side for more adventurous eaters.

Ratatouille (ra-ta-TOO-ee) is a popular dish from the Provence region in France. It’s a super simple vegetable-filled dish that makes enough to feed you, your roommates, and anyone else that smells it cooking. With tons of fresh veggies, this recipe is way healthier than anything you’d get at a fast food restaurant, and it’s so easy to make.

Nothing says German more than sausage, which makes bratwurst a must for any Oktoberfest celebration. This version is made with caramelized onions that get nice and sweet to make the perfect topping for the bratwurst.

These are a little more work than the other dishes for this party, but they are so yummy we couldn’t skip them. They can be made several hours ahead and refrigerated, or they can be frozen for up to 2 months and baked at the last minute.

When I first started college, I was a total pastaholic, not only because it’s cheap and you just have to boil water, but because it’s so darn good. This is one of my favorite versions. With pasta, Italian sausage, and melted mozzarella, who wouldn’t love it. This dish makes a lot, but that’s okay because it’s also excellent reheated.

Quinoa (pronounced KEEN-wah) has a light, nutty flavor with a wonderful texture that makes it fun to eat. Quinoa is the only grain that is a complete protein. It was the staple food of the Incas in Peru, who called it “the Mother grain.” Find it near the rice or in the bulk food section of a health food store or your grocer’s natural foods aisle. Store it in an airtight jar. Use your family’s favorite type of sausage to make this recipe a real winner. Our current favorite is an organic chicken-feta sausage that we find in our regular grocer’s freezer. There is no need to thaw frozen sausages; just be sure to separate them before adding them to the Dutch oven. Try this recipe with toasted buckwheat groats, also called kasha, for a change in flavor.