Making homemade crackers is one of the little culinary secrets I love so much.  It never occurs to most people that making your own is something that can or would be done.  But it is easy to do and pretty impressive when you serve homemade crackers.  It took me awhile to get where I wanted to go with making my own crackers.  I read and sampled a lot of recipes.  Some were too complicated, some just weren’t good, most were fine, but plain.  I fiddled around until I had a base recipe that worked with a lot of different flavor additions – herbs and spices and cheese.  But this version literally hit me like a lightning bolt.  I was serving myself a bowl of soup one night, and doling out some (store-bought) plain crackers and I suddenly thought – bacon crackers.  Could it be possible?  I went to work immediately, and here is where I landed.

These crispy, salty little gems are the perfect sidecar for a bowl of soup, particularly with Pimento Cheese Soup.  That being said, they also take pimento cheese spread to a whole new level.  These are excellent on a cheese platter, with a creamy brie, a salty goat or a tangy blue.  Or smeared with a little butter.  Frankly, they are good all on their own.

If you have a fancy-edged pastry roller this is a great place to use it.  Personally, I like the rough and rustic look.  Not all my crackers are even or perfect, but if I actually make my own crackers, I want them to look homemade!  The crackers do need to be roughly the same size on the same baking sheet for even cooking.

Bacon Crackers

4 strips of bacon, cooked very crispy

1 ¾ cups unbleached all-purpose flour

1 ½ teaspoons baking powder

¼ teaspoon kosher salt, plus more for sprinkling

1 Tablespoon solidified bacon fat

5 tablespoons cold butter, cut into small cubes

1/2 to 2/3 cup very cold water

1 Tablespoon butter, melted

Preheat the oven to 350°. Line 2 rimmed baking sheets with a silicone liner or parchment paper.

Pat the cooled bacon with paper towels to remove as much grease as possible.  Break the bacon into pieces into the bowl of a food processor fitted with the steel blade.  Pulse several times to chop the bacon very finely.  Scrape the bacon out of the bowl and set aside.  Do not worry of there is some bacon residue left on the sides of the bowl.

Place the flour, baking soda, salt and one Tablespoon of the chopped bacon in the food processor and pulse a few times to combine.  Add the bacon grease and the butter pieces.  Pulse several times until the mixture looks like sand, with a few larger lumps throughout.  Turn on the food processor and drizzle in the ice cold water until the dough starts to come together.  Check the dough by pinching a bit between your fingers.  If it sticks together, you’re done.  You may use slightly less water, but you may need a touch more.  Add another tablespoon of chopped bacon bits and pulse a few times to mix through the dough. You may not use all the bacon.

Lightly flour a work surface.  Divide the cracker dough in half and place one half on the work surface.  Knead a little to bring the dough together and pat it into a nice square.  Using a floured rolling pin, roll the dough until it is as thin as a dime, trying your best to keep it in an even rectangle.  Trim off the rough edges and set aside*.  Cut the dough into crackers, about 1 inch by 1 inch.  I find a pizza wheel a very handy tool for this. You can cut them into smaller crackers if you prefer, but you’ll adjust the cooking time.  Carefully transfer the crackers to the prepared baking sheets. The crackers puff up rather than out, so you can place them close together.  Prick the top of the crackers with a fork, then very lightly brush the tops with melted butter and lightly sprinkle with salt. Repeat with the second half of the dough.  Bake the crackers, one sheet at a time, in the middle of the oven for 12 – 15 minutes until lightly puffed, golden brown and firm. Cool on the baking sheets.

The crackers will keep in a completely airtight container for several days.  I find a flat, sturdy container works best as a zippered bag doesn’t protect the crackers from breakage very well.

* I like to gather all the scraps and knead them together, then roll them out as sort of a third batch.  They may be not as pretty as the rest, but taste just as good.

Makes about 3 dozen

When I claimed thanksgiving for my own, I wanted to create a tradition for this new configuration of family, one for grown-ups and kids alike.  So I came up with the Thankful Tree.  My mom drew a big tree, complete with falling leaves and acorns and a bunny rabbit at the base, on a piece of poster board.  Every year, my nieces and nephew come over before Thanksgiving, when school lets out, to decorate, design menus and work on the Thankful Tree.  We use sticky notes shaped like leaves or apples and write something to be thankful for on the back.  The notes are then arranged on the tree, very artfully mind you.  On Thanksgiving Day, before we start the food free-for-all, everyone pulls a sticky note from the tree (there are usually two for each person) and we go around the room and read out what our notes say we thankful for this year.  Of course, I let the kids choose all the various things to write on the notes.  In the past we have been thankful for air, photosynthesis, bacon and Jedi knights.  But always the first words to go on those stickies are family, food and friends.  As it should be.  But I am thankful for bacon too.

Sweet Potato Mustard

A little sweet, with a nice mustardy tang and rich amber color. Perfect on a leftover turkey sandwich.

½ cup apple cider vinegar

1/3 cup yellow mustard seeds

1 bay leaf

1 cinnamon stick

1 cup water

½ cup sweet potato puree*

1 Tablespoon sorghum or light molasses

1 Tablespoon bourbon

¼ cup granulated sugar

2 Tablespoons ground mustard

½ teaspoon sweet paprika

½ teaspoon kosher salt

In a saucepan over high heat, bring the vinegar to a boil. Remove from the heat and add the mustard seeds, bay leaf and cinnamon stick, stirring to combine. Cover the saucepan and let the mixture rest at room temperature for about 1 hour. The seeds will absorb the liquid.

Remove the bay leaf and the cinnamon stick, scraping off any clinging seed.  Add the water, sorghum and bourbon to the mustard seeds and stir, then scrape the mixture into the carafe of a blender.  Blend until smooth, then add the sweet potato puree and blend until you have a nice cohesive, smooth paste.  You can add a few drops of water as you go if you need to get things moving.

Pour the mixture back into the pan and heat over medium heat, bringing it to a boil. Reduce the heat to medium-low and continue to boil gently for approximately five minutes, stirring frequently to prevent scorching. Whisk in the sugar, ground mustard, paprika and salt. Continue to simmer over medium-low heat, cooking the mixture until it has reduced a bit and is thick and spreadable. This should take about 10 minutes.

Cool the mustard in the pan, then scrape it into an airtight container.  The mustard will keep for about 2 weeks in the fridge.

Makes about 1 ½

*To make things quicker, I happily use canned sweet potato puree, but only plain all potato puree, not sweetened or seasoned.  I find at better markets and whole food stores.  If you can’t find it, wrap a sweet potato in foil, bake until soft (about 1 hour), then blend the flesh with a little water to make a very smooth puree.

Bacon Mayonnaise

Rich and creamy with that hint of bacon.  And yes, you can put bacon mayonnaise and crispy bacon on the same sandwich.

½ cup liquid bacon fat

1 egg

1 Tablespoon fresh lemon juice

½ cup canola oil

Generous pinch of kosher salt

The bacon fat needs to be liquid and not at all solidified.  If you’ve just cooked the bacon, strain the fat through cheesecloth to remove any debris, then leave it to cool to room temperature.  If you are using stored bacon fat, heat it gently in the microwave on half power in 20-second bursts, strain and leave to cool.

Crack the egg into the bowl of a food processor and add the lemon juice.  Blend them together until light and creamy. Add the canola oil to the cooled bacon fat in a spouted measuring cup.  With the motor running, slowly, slowly drizzle in the oil in a steady stream until you’ve used all the oil.  The mayonnaise will thicken and emulsify.  When the oil is all incorporated, taste the mayonnaise, add salt to taste and quickly whizz it a few seconds.  Scrape the may into an airtight container or jar and refrigerate until ready to use.  It will thicken in the fridge and keep for three days.

Makes about 1 ¼ cups

Cranberry Ketchup

Rich red, with a tangy, vinegary bite.  Amazing on a turkey burger or as a dip for sweet potato fries.

1 pound fresh cranberries

2 shallots, chopped

1 cup packed dark brown sugar

½ cup apple cider vinegar

½ cup water

1 Tablespoon pickling spice

½ teaspoon salt

Place the cranberries, shallots, sugar, vinegar and water in a medium saucepan.  Tie the pickling spice into a little bundle of cheese cloth (or use a tea ball).  Drop it into the cranberries and bring the mixture to a boil over high heat.  Reduce the heat to medium, stir in the salt and cook until the cranberries burst and the mixture is thickened, about 15 minutes.  Leave to cool for 10 minutes.

Remove the spice bag and set it aside. Scrap the cooled mixture into a blender.  Puree the cranberry mixture until smooth. Rinse out the sauce pan, then press the cranberries through a mesh sieve back into the pan. Pour ½ cup of water in the blender and run for a few seconds to pick up any remaining cranberry, then pour it into the pan. Return the spice bag to the pan, bring the mixture to a boil, reduce the heat and simmer until it is thickened, about 20 minutes, stirring frequently to prevent scorching. Remove the spice bag, squeezing it up against the side of the pan to get out all the good cranberry flavor.

Cool the ketchup in the pan, stirring a few times to prevent a skin forming, then scoop it into an airtight container. It will thicken up as it cools.  The ketchup will keep in the fridge for up to two weeks.

Makes about 1 cup

Gravy is essential to a Thanksgiving turkey, but only if it is good gravy.  And what makes gravy good is delicious drippings from a beautifully roasted bird. Many gravy methods involve making it right in the pan the turkey was cooked in, to scrape up all the bits and juices.  And that’s great.  But I realized some years ago that trying to do this while my family stands around the kitchen impatiently waiting for their food is impractical.  So I now make a rich gravy base the day before, and stir in the lovely juices when the bird has cooked.  Bacon grease, caramelized onions and a bit of bourbon add flavor to the base, but don’t worry if it seems a little bland at first.  Whisking in the juices brings everything together in a gorgeous golden gravy.  The onions may make your gravy look a bit lumpy, but the flavor is brilliant.

Make-Ahead Gravy for your Turkey

2 Tablespoons bacon grease or oil

2 cups finely diced onion (from about 1 ½ onions)

2 Tablespoons bourbon

2 Tablespoons butter

4 Tablespoons all-purpose flour

4 cups turkey or chicken stock

Drippings from your turkey, skimmed of fat

Salt and pepper to taste

Pick out a medium sized, heavy-bottomed sauce pan, and make a paper lid for stewing the onions by cutting out a circle from a piece of parchment or waxed paper that will fit tightly over the surface of the onions. This is called a cartouche, by the way.  Melt the bacon drippings in the saucepan and add the onions before the grease gets too hot.  Sauté gently over medium until the onions are soft and translucent, stirring frequently.  Don’t let the onions scorch or brown.  Add the bourbon and cook, stirring, until it is almost all evaporated.  Turn the heat to low. Place the parchment paper circle over the top of the onion pressing directly on the surface.  Cook the onions until soft and caramelized and golden brown, removing the paper once or twice and stirring, replacing the paper lid, about 20 minutes.

When the onions are lovely and golden, add the butter and stir until it is melted.  Sprinkle over the flour and stir to coat the onions.  Cook for about three minutes, then begin slowly whisking in the stock.  Continue whisking until your gravy base is quite thick. It will thin out when you add the turkey drippings.  The base may look and taste a bit bland now, but that will be fixed when we add the drippings.  At this point, you can cool the gravy base, cover and refrigerate overnight.

When ready to serve, reheat the gravy over low heat, stirring to heat it through.  Skim the fat from your turkey drippings, either by letting the juices settle and skimming off the fat the collects on the top, or use a nifty gravy separator if you’ve got one.  Slowly whisk the drippings from your roasted turkey into the gravy base, tasting as you go, until you have a nice, rich taste.  You don’t want to pour in all the juices and thin the gravy out too much.  Cook the gravy, whisking constantly, to thicken it up as needed.  Taste before adding any salt, as the turkey drippings may be quite salty.  Add pepper to taste if you’d like.

Canning is a new passion for me.  I’ve had fits and starts about it over the years, lots of failures, lots of time spent making jams or relishes only to forget about them and never use them. But after all that trial and error, I have finally got the knack of it and have had mostly successes, and a great deal of enjoyment from what I have produced.  I have even gained the confidence to experiment with my own concoctions, and this is one of my favorites.  It’s rich with figs, set off with the warmth of vanilla and a depth from the bourbon.

I like using the slow cooker for making this.  It is pretty hands off, and clean-up is relatively easy.  This method is also a little forgiving as it will stay at temperature and there doesn’t need to be that frantic rushing to fill the jars at just the right moment.  I also use an immersion blender for this, but if you don’t have one, chop the figs smaller and try a potato masher or a really sturdy spoon to mash up the figs. You will get a slightly chunkier product.

I love this jam on an English muffin.  And fresh, warm buttermilk biscuits – oh lordy.  But this is also a very sophisticated accompaniment to a cheese and charcuterie tray.  It makes a great glaze for pork roast, or serve some on the side.  And of course, it is gorgeous in my Blue Cheese and Fig Savories.  This makes quite a few jars, but it’s worth it since there are so many uses for the jam.  And what an elegant gift!

Fig, Bourbon and Vanilla Bean Jam

3 ½ pounds brown fresh figs, like Celeste or Brown Turkey

2 ¾ pounds granulated sugar

6 Tablespoon lemon juice

5 Tablespoons bourbon

1 vanilla bean

First, place a small ceramic plate in the freezer.  You’ll use this this to test the set of the jam later. Then get your jars clean.  You will need nine half-pint mason jars.  I clean the jars and the rings in the dishwasher, and leave them in there with the door closed to stay warm.  You can’t put the lids in the dishwasher, it will ruin them.

Quarter the figs, cutting any larger ones into eights and place in the crock of a 6 quart slow cooker.  Add the sugar, the lemon juice and the bourbon and toss to coat. Cover the slow cooker and cook the figs for 2 hours on high. The figs will become nice and syrupy.  Remove the top from the cooker, and using a stick blender, puree the figs until you have a smooth texture with a few small chunks.  Split the vanilla bean open and scrape the seeds into the figs, then drop in the bean. Give the mixture a good stir, then continue to cook the jam, uncovered, for 4 -5 more hours, stirring occasionally.

When the jam has cooked down and is thickened, pull that little plate out of the freezer and spoon a little jam onto it.  Leave to set for a minute, then tilt the plate.  If the jam stays put, or only runs a little bit, it’s ready to go. Also, run a finger through the jam on the plate if the two sides stay separate and don’t run back together, you’re good to go.

While you jam is cooking, get a boiling water canner or big stockpot of water going.  Here are step-by step instructions for processing jam in a canner.  When the jam is almost ready, pour some boiling water over the lids to your jars to soften the seals and set aside.

When the jam has met the set test, turn off the slow cooker. Remove the vanilla bean. I like to ladle the jam into a large measuring jug for easy pouring. Fill each of your warm, cleaned jars with the jam, leaving a ½ inch head space.  Dry the lids with a clean paper towel and place on the jars.  Screw on the bands, then process the jars for 15 minutes in a boiling water bath.  If you have a bit of extra jam, scoop it into a refrigerator container and keep in the fridge for up to a week.

When the jars are processed, leave to cool on a towel on the counter.

The processed jars will keep for a year in a cool, dark place.  Don’t forget to label your jars!

Makes 9 (1/2pint) jars

I don’t really know what else I can say about this recipe.  It’s a rich, Southern version of butterscotch sauce with fresh peaches cooked right in, and a nice little kick of bourbon.  Of course, this is great over a big scoop of vanilla ice cream.  But I’d be lying if I didn’t admit that my favorite way to eat this is with a spoon.  A few slices of fresh peaches on the ice cream amps up the flavor, and a sprinkling of chopped pecans ain’t a bad touch either.

Peach Butterbourbon Sauce

2 large peaches or 3 small, peeled and pitted

½ cup (1 stick) butter

1 cup light brown sugar, packed

¼ cup bourbon

Cut the peaches into small chunks and set aside.

Melt the butter in a saucepan, then stir in the sugar and stir until melted.  Carefully pour in the bourbon and bring to a boil.  Reduce the heat, and add the chopped peaches.  Simmer until the peaches are completely soft and disintegrating into the sauce.  The ripeness of the peaches will determine how long this takes.

When the peaches are completely soft, puree the sauce with an immersion blender until smooth.  If you don’t have an immersion blender, mash the peaches with a sturdy wooden spoon, then press the sauce through a wire sieve.

Serve warm over ice cream.  The sauce will keep in an airtight container for up to a week in the fridge.  Reheat gently in the microwave, stirring frequently, to loosen up.

Makes about 1 ½ cups sauce

Summer food for me is all about bounty.  There is so much fresh, healthy food available, I worry about how I can enjoy as much as possible more than the idea that I might not have access to it at all.  I cook fresh meals for myself, and spend a lot of time putting things up for winter, like these simple Dilly Beans.  Not because I have to, but because I want to.  Sometimes I have so much fresh produce in the house, I have a hard time deciding what to cook next.  Making dinner is a joy, not a worry, because my choices are so vast and diverse.

But for millions of American kids and families, summer is about the opposite of bounty.  It’s a frightening time, when the school lunch program is not an option,  parents worry about how they can feed their families, kids have to skip meals and they don’t get the proper nutrition growing bodies need.  Summer is a struggle, not a carefree holiday. 

Share Our Strength’s No Kid Hungry Summer Meals campaign works to combat this problem.  So do your local food banks, and many food pantries are faced with empty shelves in the summer months when demand is high.  So as we all enjoy the beauty and bounty of summer cooking, please remember those who don’t have that pleasure.  Donate to Share Our Strength or your local food bank.  Organize a food drive in your neighborhood or workplace.  I think there is an idea for a fun summer project for the kids in there!  Please, share ideas you have for helping local kids and communities in the comments section.

Dilly Beans

Old fashioned versions of this always look so pretty with full heads of dill tucked inside, so if you have dill growing or a place where you can buy full dill seed heads, use about three of those with one dill sprig.

¾ pound fresh green beans (enough to fill a quart jar)

2 cups apple cider vinegar

2 cups water

4 Tablespoons canning salt or 3 Tablespoons table salt

1 Tablespoon sugar

½ teaspoon mustard seeds

½ teaspoon dill seed

2 cloves garlic

4 – 5 stalks fresh dill

Trim the ends off the beans, making sure they are a length to stand in the jar. Blanch the beans in boiling water for 2 minutes, then drain and cover with ice cubes to stop the cooking. Toss the ice around to get to all the beans.  Drain.

Clean a one quart jar with two piece lid.  Stack the beans, the garlic cloves and the dill sprigs in the jar.  I find it easiest to do this with the jar on its side, so the beans stack on top of each other and stay upright. 

Bring the vinegar, water, seeds, salt and sugar to a full rolling boil and boil for 2 minutes.  Carefully pour the liquid over the beans in the jar to cover, leaving a ¼ inch head space at the top.  Immediately put on the top and screw on the band.  Leave to cool 8 hours or so, then refrigerate.   There may be more pickling liquid than you need, just discard the remainder.

To can the beans for longer term storage, process in a hot water bath for 10 minutes immediately after pouring in the hot vinegar and screwing on the lid and band. Here are step by step instructions for canning.

I adore squash (or zucchini) blossoms.  Last year, I even planted some zucchini in an effort to have my own supply.  I was not successful. Fortunately, the farmers market here has a vendor or two that sell the blossoms, though they are often claimed early by restaurant chefs.  But that’s the beauty of getting to know the farmers – they will put a few aside for you if you ask politely!  During the whole season, I buy a little box of blossoms, dip them in a light batter and fry them up.  Almost every Saturday in summer, that’s my lunch.  I always plan to expand my horizons, but I love them fried crispy so much, I usually eat them all up before I have a chance to experiment.

But when the first blossoms arrived at the market this year, I bought a double batch.  I had seen a recipe for a squash blossom pasta sauce I wanted to try.  When I read it again, however, I realized it required a pound of blossoms.  The boxes I buy hold one ounce, and I doubt I could convince a farmer to sell me all his blossoms.  So I planned to fry them up again and as I gently worked to pull out the stamens, I suddenly wondered how they would work as a pesto.  I was a little reluctant to sacrifice my blossoms to an experiment, but my curiosity won the day.  I simple converted my standard pesto recipe, with the addition of saffron from the abandoned sauce recipe, and magic!  A vivid orange sauce, nutty with parmesan and pine nuts with this mysterious undernote.  Squash blossoms.  I have to say, this really felt like one of my moments of kitchen genius.

There are very few ingredients in this recipe, so each one needs to really shine.  Use a quality, real Italian Parmigiano cheese.  If you buy it in a block, just grind it up in the food processor before you start the rest of the recipe.  I like a quality olive oil, but not a green, extra virgin which can be too strong and overpower the blossoms.  This pesto is amazing over a thin pasta like linguine, or with some gnocchi.  Try it spread on a pizza base with topped with some thinly sliced squash and zucchini, or as a spread on bruschetta. If you don’t regularly see squash blossoms at the farmers market, ask any vendor that sells squash or zucchini if they will provide you with some next time around.

Squash Blossom Pesto

3 Tablespoons pine nuts

2 Tablespoons very hot water

A pinch of saffron threads

2 cups loosely packed squash blossoms, about 12 blooms

1/3 cup coarsely grated Parmigiano cheese

½ cup lightly flavored olive oil

Pinch of salt

In a dry skillet over medium, lightly toast the pine nuts until they start smell nutty and are lightly golden.  Watch them carefully so they do not get dark brown or burn.  Transfer to a kitchen towel and set aside to cool.

Pour the 2 Tablespoons of hot water over the saffron in a small bowl and leave to steep.

Pull the stamens out of the center of the squash blossoms and pinch off any hard stems or green leaves at the base.  Lightly pull the blossoms apart and measure 2 loosely packed cups.  Drop the blossoms in a food processor and pulse 2 – 3 times to break them up.  Add the nuts, the cheese and the saffron with its water and pulse until everything is roughly chopped.  Turn the machine on, and drizzle the olive oil in slowly.  Stop and scrape down the sides of the bowl as needed.  When all the oil is incorporated, add a pinch of salt to taste.  If your cheese is salty, be sparing with extra salt.

Transfer the pesto to an airtight container and drizzle a very thin layer of olive oil over the surface.  This version does not oxidize and turn black the way basil pesto does, so it only needs a bit of oil on top. Store the pesto in the refrigerator for up to 3.

Makes about ½ cup

I love edible flowers. They bring such color and whimsy to the table. I love them sprinkled on a good salad, and this year I even used honeysuckle to make a cordial. I usually plant a few marigolds for tossing with salads, and stick a few nasturtium seeds in the edge of the garden.

This year I forgot to plant the nasturtiums, but as luck would have, the lovely blossoms are a new addition to the farmers market this year. A couple of vendors are offering little bouquets of nasturtium flowers alongside the herbs and greens. And as I missed having them in my own garden, I wanted to preserve their beauty and flavor. These ideas are hardly recipes, just great ways to extend the life of nasturtium season.

This nasturtium butter is beautiful, the golden yellow of butter flecked with bright orange, yellow, red and green. Use it to make the most elegant tea sandwiches, on its own spread on wheat bread, or with thin slices of cucumber. A slice of this butter is spectacular placed on a piece of just cooked white fish, the butter melting into a sauce with the flower specks decorating the fish. And your friends will really ohh and ahh at your creativity when you serve pats of this on a butter plate beside the bread at dinner. Use the finest butter you can afford to maximize the lusciousness of this treat.

The nasturtium vinegar takes on a beautiful hue, and has a slight peppery bite. Use it in any simple salad dressing or as you would herb vinegar.

Nasturtium Butter

To clean nasturtiums, gently dip and swirl them in a little dish of water and shake. Leave on a tea towel to dry. Use the smallest, tenderest leaves.

1 ounce nasturtium flowers and a few leaves (about 8 – 10 flowers, 5 -6 small leaves), no stems

4.4 ounces good butter, softened

Generous pinch Maldon salt

Finely chop the flowers, including the stamens, using a sharp knife. Scrape the chopped blossoms into a small bowl and add the butter. Using the back of a fork, mash the butter and flowers together, making sure the flowers are well distributed throughout the butter. Add a pinch of salt and blend it in.

Lay a long piece of plastic wrap on the counter. Scrape the butter into a log onto one end of the wrap. Roll the wrap over the butter and continue rolling, using the plastic to help shape the butter into a uniform log. Twist the ends together like a piece of candy, squeezing the log into an even shape. Label the log and place in the freezer until firm.

Frozen butter will last up to three months in the freezer.

Nasturtium Vinegar

I use an empty, cleaned bottle that once held bought vinegar, but a mason jar will do just as well.

1 ounce nasturtium flowers

White wine or champagne vinegar to cover, about 1 cup

Clean a bottle or 1 pint mason jar in the dishwasher and thoroughly dry. Gently place the blossoms into the bottle or jar and pour the vinegar over. Seal the bottle, then leave to infuse for at least a week.

The vinegar will keep for months.

Photo by Stephanie Jones

The spring brunch season starts with Easter, then moves onto graduation parties, wedding parties and long vacation weekends.  That’s where this recipe comes from.  It was a request for Easter brunch – pickled asparagus to garnish Bloody Marys.  I of course complied.  Because quick pickles like these are so easy, but add a very special touch.  I happened to find the baby vidalias, the white bulbed, long-stemmed first-crop, at the market, but green onions work just as well, or a shallot.

These are obviously great as a garnish for Bloodys – you can even add some of the pickling liquid to your tomato base, but can also be used to garnish a spring martini.  They are also delicious eaten on their own, so feel free to put some out on a relish tray or a cheese plate.  Any leftovers are great cut bite-sized and tossed in a salad.

Pickled Asparagus

Look for the young, slender asparagus tips, sometimes called sprue, rather than the thick woody spears.

2 bunches young asparagus tips

Peel of one lemon

2 baby vidalia onions, baby onions or 4 green onions

2 cups white wine vinegar

2 cups water

3 Tablespoons table salt

1 Tablespoon sugar

Clean a one quart jar with two piece lid.  Trim the asparagus speas to fit the jar, with the tips just reaching the shoulder, leaving space for the liquid.  Thinly slice the bulbs of the Vidalia onions and place several pieces in the bottom of the jar. Peel thin strips from the lemon, with no white pith. Stack the asparagus tips, the remaining onion slices and the lemon peel in the jar.  I find it easiest to do this with the jar on its side, so the spears stack on top of each other and stay upright. 

Bring the vinegar, water, salt and sugar to a full rolling boil and boil for 2 minutes, until the sugar and salt are dissolved.  Carefully pour the liquid over the asparagus in the jar to cover,  leaving a ¼ inch head space at the top.  Immediately put on the top and screw on the band.  Leave to cool 8 hours or so, then refrigerate.   There may be more pickling liquid than you need; discard it.

The asparagus will keep unopened in the fridge for 1 month.  After opening, use within a few days.

Thanks to the fabulous Mrs. Jones, the official Easter brunch photographer and my style icon.

When I started to think about recipes to share for the holiday season, I had a sudden, overwhelming memory of Jezebel Jelly. I would never have put it on my list of stand-out memories, but it popped into my mind quicker than lightening and that I could not ignore.

Jezebel Jelly is a quickly made tangy condiment that seemed to have a real heyday when I was a kid.  At every Christmas function someone, who had been asked to bring an appetizer, would sail into the kitchen in her party dress and clacky high-heel shoes with her most festive Christmas plate and spreading knife, sometimes all tucked away in a basket with a colorful napkin.  Talking a mile a minute undoubtedly, she’d pull out her plate, unwrap a block of cream cheese, plop it down – just the block, as is.  Out came the jar of Jezebel Jelly, with its hand-written label and little fabric cap tied with a gold stretchy cord., and it was poured over the cream cheese and served with crackers (frequently Triscuits, if I remember correctly).  That was that.  Jezebel Jelly was the refuge of the non-cook.  It was, I believe, a popular gift, easy for even the most kitchen-phobic to stir up and prettily package, with the appearance of being homemade without the work.  Eventually, the Jezebel and cream cheese appetizer was replaced by the even-less-work block of cream cheese smothered in Pickapeppa sauce from the bottle. Call that a bonus recipe.

There are lots of people who seem to want to trace the origins of Jezebel Jelly, or Jezebel Sauce as some call it, and figure out why this spicy spread was named after a biblical woman of ill repute.  I don’t know.  Frankly, it always speaks to me more of 1938 movie Jezebel, in which Bette Davis plays a fickle Southern belle whose wily ways hoist her on her own petard in the end.  It is said that Bette was denied the role of Scarlett O’Hara, and this was her chance at Southern belle stardom.  Personally, I think Bette’s sassy, strong willed Julie is a better performance and a richer character. 

At a party not too long ago, where all the ladies brought some sort of pick-up food for the buffet, one contribution stood out.  A lovely pottery dish with a cheesy, bubbling spread, full of flavor and punch.  Everyone tracked down the person who brought this and begged the recipe.  To our surprise, she told us it was “just that Jezebel Jelly.”  She’d prepared it the way her mother had for parties by whipping the cream cheese with a little cream, spreading it in the dish, pouring the jelly over it and heating it until bubbly.  She served it with baguette slices and it was a huge hit.  Most of the people in that room had not had Jezebel Jelly in ages and we were all delightfully surprised, and reminded that things become classics for a reason.  Her presentation, I must say, was much more elegant than the sauced block version.

So all these memories made me want to share Jezebel Jelly again.  Jezebel Jelly has a real kick to it, so it goes well with creamy cheeses. Try it poured over a block of cream cheese if you want, or in the hot dish version. It goes well over a baked brie. It makes a great spread on a turkey or ham sandwich, and is an excellent accompaniment to pork.  Use it as a glaze for a pork loin or a sauce for pork chops.  And it is wonderful with that other classic Southern party tradition, a great silver platter of sliced, roasted pork tenderloin or a joint of country ham served with bite-sized biscuits or rolls.  Jezebel Jelly in a silver bowl alongside will be a real treat, and probably bring back some happy memories.

And for the record, the nice little bonnet and tie on the jar in the photo are from, let’s say, a vintage set found at the very, very back of a drawer in my mom’s kitchen, from the days when she gave jarred gifts.  I do like to be authentic.

Jezebel Jelly

My version is adapted from several recipe cards I found tucked in a drawer.  I think they came from my mother, but they are not in her handwriting. Traditions do pass around.

1 (12-ounce) jar apricot jelly

1 (12-ounce) jar pineapple preserves

1 (5-ounce) jar prepared horseradish

1 (1.38-ounce) jar dry mustard powder (1/2 cup)

Coarse ground black pepper

In a medium bowl, mix the apricot jelly and pineapple preserve until smooth and combined.  I like to use a hand mixer, but you can stir vigorously with a spoon.  Blend in the horseradish until combined, then sift in the mustard powder and mix to combine.  I really recommend sifting the mustard.  This jelly has got enough kick without a lump of mustard powder in one bite.  Grind in lots of black pepper and stir to combine.

Leave the jelly in the bowl for an hour or so to blend the flavors, the scoop into airtight jars or containers and refrigerate.  The jelly will last for a month.