Kwanzaa

Yet another in the seemingly endless parade of hearty one-pot dishes from the Creole and Cajun traditions, jambalaya is a close cousin of Spanish paella (which comes as no surprise, given Louisiana’s earlier ownership by Spain). I love jambalaya, whether it’s made in the “red” Creole style, with tomatoes, or in the “brown” Cajun style, without, because even though it requires a little slicing and dicing, it’s actually a fairly fast and weeknight-friendly one-dish dinner—and it really sticks to your ribs. I often make mine with shrimp (as in this recipe), but jambalaya is sort of like gumbo in that it is made with everything from chicken, sausage, pork, and oysters to alligator, boar, venison, and turtle—basically, anything that swims, crawls, grazes, or flies in the vicinity of Southerners.

One day while cooking a pot of red beans, I noticed that the juice had a beautiful, silky sheen. It occurred to me that the beans might make a good sauce if pureed really smoothly with their cooking liquid. An idea was born—really: that’s all it takes! I played around with seasonings and decided I liked the warm hint of cinnamon married with the spicy flavors of poblano and chipotle. Adding fresh lime juice at the end of the process brightens up the earthiness of the puree. The light coating of cornmeal gives the fish a nice crunch to contrast with the creamy sauce (which, incidentally, is wonderful with grilled fish of any kind—trout, redfish, or snapper are particularly good). A side of Green Rice (p. 309) is a perfect accompaniment.

This fabulous, herbaceous gumbo used to be primarily a meatless Lenten dish, served on Good Friday. It is a pretty rare find on menus these days, but if you should come across it, give it a try. It is a thinner, soupier gumbo than most, and you’ll be surprised how much flavor the greens impart to the broth. When I made it the first time, I thought of how wonderful oysters would taste with the herbs, so I decided to top it off with a few fried ones. You could still serve it during Lent, but don’t reserve this delicious gumbo for once a year.

For those of you who are not from the South, spoonbread is best described as a cross between a soufflé and corn bread. Light and creamy like a soufflé, this elegant side dish delivers the essence of corn bread without any of its density. Parmesan cheese gives the spoonbread a rich, savory note, while sweet roasted garlic and roasted green chiles provide the force of its flavor profile. Chopped chives and oregano fleck each bite with fresh color and flavor. At Bar Americain we serve Green Chile Spoonbread alongside the Smoked Chicken with Black Pepper Vinegar Sauce (page 126), but I would be hard-pressed to think of a meal that wouldn’t be complemented by this dish.

This is my tip-of-the-hat to the picturesque city of Charleston, South Carolina. Each time I visit I am charmed by the city’s citizens, its architecture, and its Low Country cuisine, in particular the sumptuous shrimp and grits. Originally a humble breakfast made by and for the local shrimp fishermen, this dish of creamy grits and plump shrimp deserves a night out on the town. Sharp cheddar cheese and heavy cream enrich the grits with lush flavor. Thick matchsticks of smoky bacon are rendered crisp for a salty garnish, and the flavorful fat is used to sauté the sweet shrimp. Lemony thyme and chopped garlic season the shrimp to savory perfection.

Gumbo—it doesn’t get much more Louisiana style than that. Louisiana is a prototype for the melting pot of cultures that defines this country; this hearty dish alone can count the cuisines of West Africa, France, and Italy among its influences. Both the Creole and Cajun communities have laid claim to this spicy seafood stew, and I’ve appropriated a bit from each in this version: the Creole comes in with the tomatoes—that’s the Italian presence making itself known—and the Cajun of course is present in the spicy pork andouille sausage. Okra is a traditional gumbo component, and it’s usually cooked into the body of the soup. I like the flavor but find that the texture can be a bit slimy. Deep-fried cornmeal-crusted rings of okra solve that problem deliciously.

Cowboy nicknames for their cattle-drive cooks—biscuit shooter, dough puncher, and dough belly—suggest how important sourdough biscuits were to hungry, range-riding wranglers. No self-respecting chuck wagon cook traveled without a dough keg for his prized sourdough starter, the fermented yeast needed to make sourdough biscuits. I covered this macaroni and cheese with a generous blanket of buttered sourdough breadcrumbs in honor of chuck wagon cooks of the past. The rest has little to do with old-time chuck wagon cooking, but I don’t know a modern cowboy or anyone else who would turn down a bubbling pan of freshly baked mac and cheese.

Okay, gumbo takes time and patience, especially if you make the effort to prepare a nice, dark roux. On the plus side, you can make it a day ahead and heat it when your guests arrive, leaving you free to mingle, chat, and have a great time with your friends. In addition, it feeds a whole lot of hungry people, and if you are very, very lucky you’ll have leftovers for lunch the next day. (Sometimes I squirrel away a little in the refrigerator for insurance.) Serve with long-grain rice and some crusty bread.

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.

To quote the regional cookbook Louisiana Entertains, “Good gumbos are like good sunsets: no two are exactly alike, and their delight lies in their variety.” All gumbos use a roux. However, in addition to a roux, some gumbos flavor and thicken with okra and others call for filé powder. Integral to Creole and Cajun cooking, filé powder is made from the dried leaves of the sassafras tree. It is used not only to thicken gumbo but also to impart its mild, lemon flavor. Filé powder should be stirred into gumbo toward the end of cooking or it will become tough and stringy.

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.

Spring greens are an excellent source of vitamins A and C, which makes them all the better to eat after a long winter. Tender arugula or baby spinach enrich the corn, making a perfect accompaniment to chili, grilled steak, or a vegetarian main dish.

This is the best way I know to prepare ripe plantains, a classic Caribbean dish that is served with Crock-Pot Cuban Ropa Vieja (page 113). Ripe plantains are so sweet that they can actually be prepared this way and served over vanilla ice cream. But don’t let that sweetness intimidate you. Sweet often complements savory, and these are especially wonderful with hearty stews and grilled red meat. If the plantains are very mushy, they’ll need to be sliced thicker and will cook faster because they have more sugars, which caramelize really quickly in the hot oil.

Frying fish in peanut oil (like using lard for fried chicken) gives catfish the crispiest, least greasy coating imaginable.

For a simple supper, we can’t imagine adding anything to this dish other than sliced tomatoes, zydeco music, and a little two-step.

This easy, no-mess weeknight dish simply requires spreading a bit of mustard over catfish fillets, sprinkling them lightly with a garlicky paprika-cornmeal mixture, and popping them in the oven.

Gloria Estefan taught me how to cook plantains in the microwave and her husband, Emilio, gave me the urban, updated idea of lightening up some Cuban-influenced dishes. The result is this menu, my interpretation of Metro-Retro Cuban cooking. This dinner is also delicious made with seasoned grilled thin-cut chicken breast, seasoned in the same manner as the steak.

Brik are crisp, flaky appetizers found in Tunisian, Algerian, and Moroccan kitchens in France. The word refers to the dough, similar to the Moroccan warka, which one makes by tossing fistfuls of a wet, pastelike batter onto a hot grill. The batter miraculously spreads into a thin, pliable sheet, which may be used as an appetizer or dessert wrapper. You can find unbaked feuilles de brik (brik leaves) in Middle Eastern food stores or online (see A Source Guide, page 370). If you can’t, use wonton wrappers instead, or even phyllo dough, although your finished product will not have the same grainy texture as real brik. I often make these filled pastries as an appetizer at Hanukkah, instead of potato pancakes.

In North Africa, sfendj, also called khfaf, are sold by street vendors. People buy them for breakfast. They can be plain or with raisins. Eat them hot as soon as they are done or reheat in the oven. Serve them with honey or dusted with sugar.

Although not my favorite pastry, makroud is very popular in North Africa, especially in Tunisia, which is a land of dates. The pastries are usually deep-fried in oil, then dipped in warm honey. I prefer the lighter baked version.