Super Bowl

PAT I absolutely love making my grilled hot wings. Gina calls me the grill master: I’m a grill king and a wingman. There is nothing better than wings with a smoky grilled flavor mingling with a sweet, spicy, and creamy dipping sauce. One of the best things about living in Memphis is that we can grill year- round, even on a 35-degree day (which is the normal temperature on Super Bowl Sunday). Grilling wings can be completed in a 10-minute period outside, so even if it’s chilly out, you can stand it!

PAT Gina’s told me before, “If you like the kickoff, then you’re going to love these poppers!” They have the perfect amount of kick to them. Between the smokiness of the paprika and the heat of the cayenne pepper, take one bite and the game is on! We remove the jalapeño seeds so that the poppers aren’t too hot, but leave them in if you like really spicy. After all, I am a hot man, and I mean that both palate-wise and physical-wise (and, as you can tell, I’m very, very humble). Jalapeños are a vegetable that you can get seriously creative with: filling them up with cheese, using buttermilk in a batter, and deep-frying these little puppies makes one of the best appetizers you can imagine.

On a recent visit to South Carolina, I was lucky enough to visit Clemson University to try some of its famous blue cheese. The university first started making its tangy, marbled cheese in the 1940s, when a dairy professor realized that the cool, dank tunnel of an unfinished local railway line would make the perfect curing environment. Although the operations have since moved indoors, Clemson continues to make its Roquefort-style cheese in small batches using the same artisanal methods (see Sources, page 377). At the campus cafes, you can try everything from blue cheese pizza to blue cheese milkshakes. This rich, creamy dressing was inspired by the flavor of Clemson blue cheese—but in a pinch, any Roquefort-style cheese will do.

Most every Southerner has a favorite recipe for cheese biscuits, cheese crackers, or cheese straws, those staples of holiday gifting and year-round entertaining. With the addition of rosemary and chile peppers, I give this version of these buttery crackers unexpected heat and flavor that makes them extra habit-forming. Serve topped with fresh goat cheese and pepper jelly along with a round or two of Sazeracs (page 28) or Wendy’s Bloody Marys (page 28). Shake it up with a SALTY DOG (see page 27)

I don’t think chef Donald Link knew what a sensation he was going to cause when he changed a beloved appetizer from chicken wings to frogs’ legs tossed with this irresistible herbed butter. Fines herbes is a combination of very finely chopped herbs, such as parsley, tarragon, chives, and chervil, but you can use just one or two of the herbs if you’d like. Although we use fresh Louisiana frogs’ legs whenever we can, these are awfully good even with the more readily available frozen variety. The meat is delicate and tender, and doesn’t really taste like chicken …

Soft hamburger buns work best with these kid-friendly sandwiches. Serve with pickles or potato chips.

I stole this version of potato skins from one of my favorite bars near my university. They use green chiles and serve them with ranch dressing. I decided a variation using avocado would be even better, and it is. Don’t get me wrong, I love ranch dressing, but this cheese, potato, and avocado combination can’t be beat!

We serve these chips, an all-American classic, with our Lobster Club (page 50) for lunch at Bar Americain, but you could serve them with any sandwich—or just sit in front of the TV and eat a big bowl of them on their own. Making your own potato chips and seasoning does require a little work, but the end result is definitely worth it. That said, if you don’t want to make homemade potato chips, you can substitute your favorite brand of plain potato chips, spread them in an even layer on a baking sheet, and heat in a 325°F oven for 5 minutes before tossing them in the barbecue seasoning.

I cannot begin to tell you how addictive these chips and sauce are. Homemade potato chips, crisp and hot from the fryer, dunked in a warm, creamy sauce rich with tangy blue cheese . . . you can’t go wrong. Try it for yourself and you’ll understand why diners at the restaurant have been known to call over their server and order another round—or two! I like to use an American blue cheese such as Maytag or Great Hill Farms. If you’re not up to making your own chips, store-bought ones can be warmed in a 350°F oven for 5 minutes and served with the sauce. When it comes down to it, it’s the rich blue cheese sauce that steals the show.

I’ve yet to meet a man—Texan or otherwise—who can resist these meltingly tender short ribs. (Most women can’t either, but they tend not to eat as many.) Serve them over a pile of creamy cornmeal mush and you’ll have a party full of satisfied customers. At one gathering, I asked a group of guys how many ribs they thought they’d eat. The majority estimated that three would be plenty. They changed their tunes after taking a few bites and revised the number upward to four or five—and they kept their word. Short ribs come in varying sizes, so I figure about a pound per person, especially if my guest list includes a bunch of guys with big appetites.

These are my downfall—as are french fries, sweet potato fries, or anything else that involves spuds and a deep-fat fryer. I can resist the fudgiest brownies, chewiest cookies, or even the loveliest threelayer cakes, but I cannot walk away from a single salty potato chip. I’m a believer in the golden rule of party giving: Feed your guests as you would like to be fed yourself. No wonder my cocktail parties invariably include potato chips. I often serve them with Chipotle Ketchup (page 254), but sometimes I crave them bare with just a light shower of plain or fancy salt and a large glass of good red wine.

We Texans love our queso, and although I’ve seen many a fierce debate over the use of one of its signature ingredients—Velveeta—most of us grew up eating it. For us, queso spells comfort. I don’t use Velveeta for anything else, but there’s something about its ability to melt into a creamy smoothness that makes queso, queso. The dip shows up at so many Texas tables because, for many of us, queso means warmth, ease, and familiarity—just the recipe for an easy, congenial get-together with friends. (Pictured opposite, left side)

One of Austin’s oldest restaurants is the venerable Texas Chili Parlor; its motto is “E Pluribus Chili,” and its signature dish comes in three levels of heat: X, XX, and XXX. The X is fantastic: plenty spicy, but you can still taste the other flavors. To my taste, XX is just slightly over the line between hot and too hot. And the XXX—well, let’s just say they make you sign a waiver before you can order it, and I never have. Besides the basic chili, my favorite item on the menu is the cheese enchiladas topped with the chili. They call them Frieda’s Enchiladas, and in all the years I went there, I never asked who Frieda was. I guess my mouth was always full, on fire, or both. This is my interpretation based on countless samplings. Now, this recipe may make enough for two servings, depending on your appetite and whether you eat beans and rice on the side, but I confess: I’m usually a four-enchilada man, meaning I have to commit to some extra time at the gym, but it’s worth it.

There are two kinds of people: those who love potato chips and those who don’t exist. Making your own chips means a fresh potato, freshly fried in the freshest oil. It also means you can choose your own salt. The freshly fried potato chip is an object worthy of serious contemplation, a thing of wonder, a crispy symphony of fat and starch and salt. When the diamondlike glitter of fleur de sel throws its multifaceted might behind it, hold on to the roof.

At Marination they dress the SPAM sliders with their signature “nunya sauce” and slaw with a pickled ginger vinaigrette.

The dressing is enough for four and will keep in the fridge for several days.