It’s nice to have a really hearty, hot dip as part of the spread when the ravenous football hordes are hungry. This is a jazzed up version of a classic sausage dip recipe, with warm, winter flavor.  Zesty Italian sausage with the bite of fennel is paired with woodsy sage and creamy, nutty fontina cheese, with a little kick of salty Parmesan to round it out.  Don’t skimp on the sage, as it really sets the tone for this dip.  Serve with hearty crackers, chips or toasted bread rounds, and maybe a knife for spreading should someone prefer to be dainty.

Italian Sausage Dip with Fontina and Sage

1 pound sweet Italian sausage, casings removed

2 cloves garlic

1 generous handful sage leaves, finely chopped

8 ounces cream cheese

4 ounces fontina cheese. grated

8 ounces sour cream

1 ounce parmesan cheese, grated

Break the sausage into small pieces and cook in large sauté pan over medium heat. Use a sturdy spatula or wooden spoon to break the meat up into very small pieces, almost crumbs.  Remember you will be eating this as a dip or spread and big chunks are too hard to eat.  Cook until the sausage is no longer pink.  Put the garlic cloves through a garlic press (or very finely mince them) into the pan, stir and cook for another minute.  Sprinkle half the chopped sage over the sausage and stir until wilted. Drain any excess fat from the pan.  Cut the cream cheese into small cubes and add to the sausage, stirring until it melts.  Add the fontina and stir until the cheese begins to melt and become creamy.  Stir in the sour cream and the remaining sage and cook over medium heat until everything is melted, smooth and bubbly.  Sprinkle over the parmesan cheese and stir.

Transfer the dip to an oven safe baker and serve immediately, or the dip can be cooled and refrigerated overnight at this point.  When ready to serve, heat the dip in a 350° oven until hot through and bubbly, stirring a few times. Serve with crackers, bread rounds or corn chips.

Serves 8 -1 0, can be doubled

Bag omelets, as we call them, are a favorite project for my family.  The family legend behind this is that my Dad was watching some sort of hunting and fishing outdoor program on a Sunday afternoon and they demonstrated these as a campfire cooking idea.  Dad called my Mom into watch, and they were so intrigued, they made them that night.  Well, they couldn’t stop talking about them, and the next weekend had us all over for a bag omelet party.  And so a family tradition was born.

I tell people about these all the time, but when I do, I can see them nod skeptically, and I just know they aren’t going to follow my advice and make them. Recently, I had a dozen gorgeous eggs from the chickens my friend Kristin lovingly raises, so I invited a couple of those skeptical friends for dinner, and they were finally won over.  We all loved our omelets and the chance to get creative.  They immediately started thinking of reasons to make them.

Bag omelets are a great project for any group meal.  Everyone gets their own customized omelet, all ready at the same time.  Interactive food and lots of choice are always popular with the kids in my family.  And bag omelet party is a great way to jazz up a boring weeknight meal with a special breakfast-for-dinner treat.  I can see this as the perfect project if you are stuck in the house on a snow day.  They are a perfect clean-out-the-fridge meal – great during the busy holidays when you have lots of bits and pieces hanging around, or the night after a big party.  Cut up the leftover vegetables from the dip tray, dice the ham or turkey, grate the bits from the cheese platter.

But this is also a great idea for overnight guests, adults or after a kids’ sleepover.  The same goes for an adult dinner party.  Everyone has fun discussing their creations and all the omelets are hot and ready at the same time.  These work equally as well with leftover salami and string cheese as they do with shaved truffles and duck confit. The omelets slide out of the bags as elegant perfectly shaped cylinders. They are perfect on their own, or with some crisp toasted bread or a light salad.

Tips:

Use a big Dutch oven or pot, nonstick if you have it.  Fill the pot about three-quarters full with water.  When you add the bags, the water level will rise, but you want as much water as possible.  It shouldn’t be a problem if a little splashes over the side.

Use freezer safe bags, which are thicker and stand up to the heat.  Don’t use the plastic slider kind, just the press together seals.  You’ll want to squeeze out air so the bags don’t float too much.

Use a permanent marker to write on the bags.  You don’t want the names to wash off – you might get the wrong omelet!

Set the timer and have it ready to start when to omelets hit the water.  Use tongs to lift the bags out of the water onto a plate or platter.

Wear oven mitts or use a towel to protect your hands when opening the bags and sliding out the omelets.

The Ingredients:

You’ll need 2 eggs per person, and I always recommend the best eggs you can find.  If you have a source at the farmers market or a friend for farm fresh eggs, that’s the way to go.  Have a nice selection of protein, vegetables, cheeses, herbs and seasonings.  Cut everything into small pieces, so when they are in the bag, they will mix together well, and be easy to eat.  I could definitely see doing theme nights with bag omelets – all Mexican ingredients or all Italian.  And don’t forget you can add some toppings on the top of the cooked omelet like and extra sprinkle of cheese, a spoonful of salsa or ingredient you may not want cooked in with the eggs, like diced avocado or some crisp diced tomato. Put out some salt and pepper as well, and maybe a few additional seasoning blends.

When I last made these for the photograph above, I created nice little spread of fillings, some grabbed off the salad bar to fill things out, some bits from my fridge.  Here are some ideas from that meal:

diced ham

chopped chicken

chopped shrimp

crumbled bacon

crumbled blue cheese

grated cheddar cheese

finely diced bell peppers

diced red onion

diced mushrooms

salsa

finely chopped sage, parsley and chives

Creole seasoning

Barbecue seasoning

Old Bay

Hot sauce

Salt and pepper

The Directions:

Bring a pot of water to a full boil.  Each omelet-maker should write their name on the outside of a freezer-safe zip top bag.  For each bag omelet, crack two eggs into a bag. Lightly seal the bag and squish the eggs around a bit to break the yolks.

Open the bag and add your choice of ingredients.  Don’t use more filling than egg, you need a good ratio.  Seal the bag three-quarters of the way and press out as much air out as possible, then seal the bag completely.

When everyone has their bags ready, gently lower them into the water, avoiding touching the bags to the side of the pan, and set the timer for 11 minutes.  Use tongs to gently push the bags down into the water if needed.  Do your best to keep the bags from touching the sides of the pot.  I have done as many as 8 bags at a time.

When the timer beeps, remove the bags to a platter.  Let them cool for a minute, then using oven mitts, gently open each bag and slide the omelet out onto a plate.

I am not an overly suspicious person.  Sure, I have my little quirks, but I don’t worry about black cats, walking under ladders, throwing spilled salt over my left shoulder.   But there are a few traditions that I adhere to because, well, it can’t hurt.  Particularly if that tradition involves delicious food.  So on New Year’s Day, I always eat black-eyed peas and greens. For luck and prosperity.  Sometimes I eat them separately, but this gumbo includes all the ingredients for a good year.  The traditional ingredients of good-luck hoppin’ john (rice and black-eyed peas), which is another New Year tradition in the South, plus greens for prosperity.  Here’s a little more information on Southern luck traditions.

This gumbo can be made the day before and reheated, which is a boon if you have been out all night celebrating. Just reheat, cook some rice and add the collards. I highly recommend using smoked ham hock stock.  It really gives the gumbo a smoky, earthy, rich flavor. Making it in the slow cooker is a breeze, and you can do it ahead of time.  If you can’t manage, look for ham stock at some grocery stores, or use the combo of chicken and beef.

Good Luck Gumbo

1 pound smoked sausage, such as kielbasa

2 Tablespoon olive or vegetable oil

1 onion

1 green pepper

4 stalks celery

1 Tablespoon flour

1 teaspoon creole seasoning (I use Tony Chachere’s)

6 cups ham hock stock*, or 4 cups chicken stock and 2 cups beef stock

1 (14.5 ounce) can diced tomatoes

1 pound black-eyed peas, fresh or frozen and thawed

1 ½ cups long grain white rice

3 ½ cups water

Collard leaves

Cut the smoked sausage into bite-size cubes.  Heat the oil in a 5 quart Dutch oven, add the sausage and cook over medium high heat until the sausage begins to brown. Finely chop the onion, seeded bell pepper and celery.  I do this in a small food processor, one vegetable at a time, pulsing to chop the vegetable finely.  Add the “trinity” vegetables to the pot and stir.  Cover the pot and cook for five minutes to soften the vegetables, then remove the cover, stir well and cook until everything is nice and soft and any liquid has evaporated.   Stir in the flour and cook a further minute, then stir in the creole seasoning.  Pour in the stock and the canned tomatoes with their juice.  Bring to a boil and cook for 10 minutes uncovered, reduce to a simmer and cook for 15 minutes. Add the black-eyed peas and continue cooking for another half an hour.  The gumbo should reduce and thicken slightly.  The gumbo can be made up to this point, cooled and refrigerated, covered, overnight.

When ready to serve, cook the rice. Stir the rice into the water in a large saucepan with a tight-fitting lid. Bring to a boil and boil until almost all the water is absorbed and little air bubbles form in the rice, about 10 – 12 minutes, stirring a few times to prevent sticking. Remove from the heat and tightly cover the pan.

Cut the collard leaves in half and cut out the stems.  Stack the leaf halves, three at a time, on top of each other and roll up like a cigar.  Cut the leaves into thin ribbons.  You can further chop the collard ribbons if you’d like.

Heat the gumbo to a low boil over medium high heat.  It will thicken as it sits, but loosen up when heated.  But add a little water if you need to get things moving.  Add the collards, stir, and cover the pot.  Cook until the collards are tender and wilted, about 5 minutes.  Serve over cooked rice.  If you have saved some ham hock meat from making the stock, dice that and stir it into the gumbo as well.  And if you’d like, sprinkle some hot sauce over the gumbo.

*Smoked Ham Hock Stock

Hock Stock is an amazing cooking medium for field peas, beans and greens, as well as a great base for soup or gumbo.  I always look for a naturally smoked hock (not one that has no artificial smoke flavoring added).  I get these from farmers market vendors when I can, and make a batch of stock to freeze.  I can then have to the long, slow cooked taste in quick versions of my favorite southern dishes.

1 large smoked ham hock, cut into three pieces

1 onion

2 carrots

2 celery stalks

1 Tablespoon black pepper corns

3 bay leaves

Place all the ingredients in the crock of a large slow cooker.  Add 10 – 12 cups of water to fill the crock.  Cook on the low setting for 10 – 12 hours.  Strain the solids from the stock and refrigerate for several hours.  When the stock is cold, skim any solidified fat from the top and discard.  Strain the stock through cheesecloth to remove any last bits of debris.

If you’d like, pull the meat from the ham hock pieces and dice. It is a great addition to any soup or beans you are cooking with the stock.

The stock will keep in an airtight container in the fridge for up to a week or can be frozen for up to a year.  The same goes for the hock meat, in a separate container from the stock.

Makes 6 – 8 cups

I love a good pumpkin dish for Halloween, and this one hits all the right notes.  It’s easy to make, reheats well after a busy night trick-or-treating and is packed full of flavor.  It is also a Halloween appropriate blend of orange and black!  And chili is always a crowd pleaser, and extra fun for a gathering if you provide fun toppings to customize each bowl like sour cream, lime, diced avocado, or tortilla chips.  If you are industrious, save the seeds from the pumpkin and toast them with a little salt for a crunchy topper.  You could even serve this chili over rice.  And of course, a wedge of Pumpkin Cornbread would be the perfect accompainment.

Look for small “pie” pumpkins, sometimes labeled sugar pumpkins.  Sorry, but the flesh from your jack-o-lantern won’t work.  Those pumpkins are decorative and have tough flesh with little flavor.  If your market sells pre-cut pumpkin, feel free to use it, and yes, you could substitute pre-cut butternut squash, though that takes out some of the Halloween authenticity. The cinnamon in this chili adds real depth and brings out the flavor of the pumpkin.  It does not make it sweet or taste like cookies, I promise.

A word about chorizo.  For this dish you’ll use the more common Mexican chorizo, which is a soft uncooked sausage, not hard salami-like Spanish chorizo.  I have found that the flavors of readily available chorizo vary enormously.  I recommend a brand made in Mexico, which I find easily at my regular grocery store, or if you can, a freshly made variet from a Hispanic grocer.  Choose mild over spicy if there is an option – you can always add spice, but you can’t take it away. The brand I commonly find is packed with flavor and very spicy, so it requires little else to make this chili pack a punch.  That is why I recommend cooking small bit of the chorizo first and tasting it.  If you find it bland, add chili powder to taste, and even a little hot sauce if you feel the need.

Spicy Chorizo, Pumpkin and Black Bean Chili

2 pounds Mexican chorizo (please read above)

1 yellow onion, finely chopped

4 cups (32-ounce box) chicken broth

1 Tablespoon cinnamon

Chili powder (optional)

3 – 4 pound pie pumpkin

2 (14-ounce) cans black beans, rinsed and drained

Salt and pepper to taste

Topping Ideas:

Sour cream

Lime wedges

Diced avocado

Chopped cilantro

Crumbled cotija or queso fresco cheese

Tortilla chips

Oyster crackers

Toasted pumpkin seeds (pepitas)

Pinch off a small piece of the chorizo and sauté it in a small skillet until cooked through.  Taste the chorizo to determine its flavor and spice level.

Break the chorizo up into a 5-quart Dutch oven and sauté over medium heat, breaking up the meat into small pieces until the bright orange juices are running.  Add the chopped onion and continue cooking, stirring and scraping the bottom of the pan until the onions are soft. Pour in the chicken broth, bring to a boil and reduce the heat to medium-low.  Stir in the cinnamon.  Add chili powder to taste if you feel the chorizo doesn’t have enough flavor and spice.

While the chorizo is simmering, prepare the pumpkin.  Cut the pumpkin in half and scoop out the seeds and fibrous innards.  Cut the halves into quarters and cut away the orange rind and any green-tinged flesh.  Use a very sturdy and sharp knife and go slowly and carefully.  Cut the pumpkin flesh into bite size chunks.  Remember you’ll be eating this with a spoon, so size the pieces accordingly.  Add the pumpkin to the simmering chorizo. Cook for about 10 minutes, then add the drained black beans.  Continue to simmer the chili until the pumpkin is tender and the chili has thickened. Add salt and pepper to taste.

Serve warm with sour cream and fresh limes to squeeze over the chili, and a selection of toppings.  The chili can be made up to 24 hours ahead and gently reheated.

Serves 6 – 8

In my family, when we travel, we all have assignments. Subjects to learn about, information to share with the group.  Yes, homework for vacation.  Laugh all you want, but it has made for some really interesting trips.  I am generally given the topic of food.  I search out restaurants, food customs, typical local fare and markets.  And the training of my family vacations has worn off.  I generally do quite a bit of research before I travel, and always research the food I should be on the lookout for.

Before I traveled to South Africa some years ago, I read about bobotie, a traditional dish with Cape Malay origins. The Cape Malay have East Asian ancestry, so the spices and curries of their heritage have translated into the broader realm of South African cooking. When I first arrived, I started asking, and the friend I was visiting and new friends I met told me that bobotie was really the sort of thing people cooked at home, and they weren’t sure I’d see it on a menu anywhere.  But they gave me a general description of the dish, with a lot of “well, my mom always makes it….”  I of course, took copious notes.  I did eventually have bobotie, as a lunch with a green salad at a game lodge, and served in a charming little ramekin at an elegant country inn in the Cape Winelands.  I picked up a couple of cookbooks that had bobotie recipes as well.  All this proved to me why bobotie is a favorite dish.  I recently spent a wonderful week with a group of South African friends, and when asked what they considered a true South African dish, they all said bobotie.  It reminded me how delicious this dish is, and how easy it is to make a flavorful, exotic meal that’s a departure from our standard fare.  I bet you’ll want to add it into regular meal rotation.

I have combined my preferred features from my bobotie research for my recipe, and adapted it a little to what’s readily available to me.  Some recipes I gathered use only lamb, or only beef, but I like the depth of a combined version. South Africa offers a wide and varied selection of chutneys, and I have been admonished that a good bobotie is all about a good chutney.  I find the easily accessible Major Grey type chutney a perfect choice.

Bobotie (South African Curried Beef and Lamb Casserole)

If you have a large oven-to-table casserole dish, you can make this in one pan.

2 small onions, finely diced

2 Tablespoons olive oil

1 pound ground lamb

1 pound ground beef

2 Tablespoons curry powder

3 slices white sandwich bread, crusts removed, torn into cubes

1¼ cup buttermilk

1 cup seedless golden raisins

2 Tablespoons fresh lemon juice

1 Tablespoon apricot jam

2 Tablespoons mango chutney (such as Major Grey)

3 large eggs

salt and pepper to taste

bay leaves

Preheat the oven to 350 degrees.

Heat the oil in a large pan over medium heat. Add onion and sauté until soft and pale golden.  Stir in one Tablespoon curry powder and stir to combine.  Add lamb and beef and cook until just browned, breaking up the meat with a sturdy spatula.  Remove from heat to cool a little.

In a small bowl, place bread cubes and buttermilk.  Leave to soak for 5 minutes.  Using your clean hands, squeeze the bread to remove as much buttermilk as possible.  Reserve the remaining buttermilk.

Add the soaked bread, raisins, lemon juice, jam, chutney and the remaining Tablespoon of curry powder to the meat and onion mixture.  Add salt and pepper to taste and stir to mix completely. Transfer the meat mixture to an 5 quart inch casserole dish, spreading it out evenly.

Beat the eggs into the reserved buttermilk with a dash of salt and pepper.  Pour over the meat mixture in the casserole.  Stuff a few bay leaves into the meat.  If using fresh leaves, roll them up like cigars, dried ones can just be stuffed down into the mixture. Bake the bobotie for 30 minutes until the top is golden brown and set.

Serve warm, with additional mango chutney as an accompaniment.

Serves 6

I am a newcomer to Corned Beef and Cabbage.  I have generally enjoyed my corned beef deli sliced on a sandwich and my cabbage in slaw.  My father is a big fan of corned beef and cabbage, but somehow it hadn’t trickled down to me.  I had certainly thought about developing a recipe for St. Patrick’s Day, but hadn’t gotten around to it.  Then, this winter, I was invited to a friend’s house for dinner, one of those fun nights when everyone contributes an element to the meal. One guest brought the appetizer – thinly sliced corned beef, perfectly cooked, served with dark bread and a variety of mustards.  It was gone as quick as it was put out.  And of course, I begged her corned beef cooking secrets.  She laid out the boiling and steaming method laid out here, and I knew I had to give it a try.  Okay, I did veer of her path a little by adding beer and some spices, but this method creates a tender corned beef proclaimed by my dad “a triumph.”

While making my second test round of the dish, I happened to be reading the book 97 Orchard about immigrant families in New York bringing the traditions of their home countries to their adopted home.  As the corned beef boiled, I read the section on Irish cooking, and learned that, counter to the popular tale that corned beef and cabbage is a purely American creation, it is in fact an old Irish tradition, and that Irish corned beef was packed for long voyages across the Atlantic in the days of the Pilgrims.  I’ve added my own culinary heritage with the bacon-braised cabbage of the South, and the final product is a real treat. 

Corned Beef and Cabbage Cooked in Beer

1 3 – pound thin cut corned beef brisket

1 (12-ounce) bottle pale ale or beer

3 bay leaves

1 teaspoon black peppercorns

1 teaspoon brown mustard seeds

1 medium head green cabbage

3 strips bacon, or 2 Tablespoons bacon grease

Discard any seasoning packet that comes with the corned beef. Rinse the corned beef and place in a large Dutch oven.  Pour in the beer and add enough water to cover the meat.  Drop in the bay leaves, peppercorns and mustard seeds.  Bring to a boil over medium heat, skimming off any scum that rises to the top.  Lower the heat to medium low, cover the pot and cook at a low boil for 3 hours, adding more water to cover the meat as needed.

Preheat the oven to 300 degrees.  When the meat has boiled, remove it from the pan to the rack of a roasting try. I use the one that came with my oven, which has a nice deep try and a slotted top rack.  Reserve all the cooking liquid.  Fill the bottom tray with as much of the cooking liquid as will fit without touching the meat.  Cover the whole very tightly with foil, sealing well.  The meat is meant to steam, so you don’t want the steam to escape. Cook for 2 hours.

Meanwhile, pour the remaining cooking liquid into a bowl or large measuring jug and put in the fridge.  Rinse out the Dutch oven.

When the corned beef has steamed for two hours, remove it from the oven and leave it covered until ready to carve. 

About 30 minutes before you’re ready to serve, cook the cabbage.  Skim any fat off the top of the reserved cooking liquid from them meat. Cook the bacon strips in the Dutch oven until crispy, or simply melt the bacon fat over medium-high heat. When the bacon is cooked, remove it to paper towels to save for another use and discard all but about 2 Tablespoons of fat.  Prepare the cabbage by removing the dark, outer leaves from the cabbage.  Then cut the head in half and remove the core.  Quarter the cabbage and cut each quarter into strips about ¼ inch wide.  Drop the cabbage strips into the hot bacon fat, riffling it to separate the leaves.  Quickly stir the cabbage to coat it in the bacon grease, cover the pot, and cook for about 5 minutes, stirring halfway.  Pour in 1 – 1 ½ cups of the reserved cooking liquid, stir well, cover the pot and cook for about 10 minutes.  Feel free to cook the cabbage for more or less time, depending on how you like your cabbage – a little but crisp, or completely wilted.  Salt to taste.

When ready to serve, unwrap the meat, remove to a carving board.  Carefully cut off any fat from the top of the corned beef, then slice into thin slices.  Some of the meat may crumble off.  No worries, eat that as is or stir it into the cabbage.

Serves 6 -8, with some leftovers for sandwiches

Keep the St. Patrick’s Day spirit going with some Champ: Irish Mashed Potatoes with Green Onions or some Kiss Me, I’m Irish Cookies!

For most of my life, a taco was ground meat, a package of seasoning and hard shells from the box, with lots of cheese and maybe a little lettuce on top.  And I will tell you, I have nothing against that version.  But in the last few years, there has been a proliferation of Mexican restaurants in Memphis that serve what is considered more authentic Mexican food.  And I haven’t looked at a taco the same way again.  Real tacos, with homemade tortillas, complexly seasoned shredded meat, and a variety of fresh and unique toppings are a real revelation.

I said above that these restaurants serve what we are told is more authentic Mexican food, and I had no reason to doubt that, but no real proof either.  I visited Mexico with my family as a teenager and it was an amazing trip – Mexico City, Taxco and Cuernavaca.  I remember the food, particularly some very subtle and unique dishes, but I was not as adventurous then.  We ate mostly at restaurants – I wouldn’t have considered a taco at a roadside stand.  As far as I remember, I never tasted a real Mexican taco on that trip. 

But last year, I had the great good fortune to attend Food Blogger Camp in Ixtapa, Mexico.  And clearly, in the company of all those food bloggers, eating was our primary activity.  The resort offered a generous buffet at every meal, and I invariably made my way to the Mexican section and sampled some amazing food.  Tacos were a feature, with a lovely woman hand rolling and cooking tortillas, and a variety of meat fillings simmering away – from beef to pork to tongue to seafood – and an array of toppings to make your head spin.  One day, we ventured into the town of Zihautenjo for a market tour, and just to be sure, I sampled several tacos at market stalls.  I can hardly call myself an expert now, but I do know that the new breed of restaurants in Memphis do offer authentic Mexican tacos, and boy am I glad of it.

When I got home from camp, I set out to replicate a taco filling worthy of what I’d sampled in Mexico.  I started with some relatively complex procedures – roasting a variety of peppers, rehydrating dried ones, charring tomatoes, marinating meats, layering complex sauces with a multitude of ingredients, many of which required a trip to specialty Latin markets.  I had some great results, but in the end, realized these dishes where not something I’d put in regular rotation because of the time and effort.  And though I am glad I figured it out, what I was really after was an amazing dish for a casual, anytime taco night. So this is where I ended up.  Good meet, simmered in a smoky sauce quickly made from ingredients readily available. Saucy and smoky with warmth, not heat, this taco filling is a canvas for creativity in toppings.  I’ve made a list of suggestions, but it is up to you and your imagination.   I do make a special stop for fresh tortillas, and heat them quickly over the open burner on the stove.

Smoky Beef Tacos

4 pounds eye of round roast, excess fat removed (this may be 2 pieces of roast)

2 (8-ounce) cans tomato sauce

1 (3.5-ounce) can chipotle chiles in adobo, including the sauce

Juice of two limes

1 ½  teaspoon dried oregano, preferably Mexican

Handful of cilantro leaves

5 cloves garlic

Fresh corn tortillas

Suggested toppings:

Crumbled cotija or queso fresco cheese

Finely chopped cilantro

Sour cream or Mexican crema

Diced avocado

Diced fresh pineapple

Diced red onion

Chopped green onion

Fresh salsa

Preheat oven to 350 degrees.

Place all the sauce ingredients in a blender and puree until smooth.  Pour enough sauce in the bottom of a 5 quart Dutch oven to cover the bottom.  Place the roast in the pan and season with salt and pepper.  Pour over the remaining sauce.  Cover and place in the oven and cook for 3 hours, until the meat will shred easily with fork. 

Remove the meat to a bowl and shred using two forks.  Return the meat to the sauce in the pot and stir to coat.  Keep warm.

Heat the tortillas.  I think the best way to do this is to hold them over the open flame on the burner for a few seconds until they puff and go golden in spot, but you can also wrap them in a damp towel and heat them in a low oven.

 Serve the meat with the tortillas and a variety of toppings.

Will serve 8 hungry folks, with some extra meat leftover

Recipe ideas come to me everywhere, at any time and take me in odd directions.  I was reading a magazine during an interminable wait at a doctor’s office once and saw a recipe called “German Meatballs.”  My mind immediately went to bratwurst, beer and mustard so I was intrigued and kept reading.  But that magazine recipe involved frozen meatballs, French onion soup mix and ketchup.  That did not appeal at all, and I cannot imagine what qualifies as German about it.  But that first thought that popped into my head stayed there.

I rather doubt this version is anywhere near traditional German cuisine either, but it involves all the flavors I associate with German food, my knowledge of which is admittedly limited.  In fact, this is a take on my Swedish meatball recipe, made a bit richer with dark rye bread crumbs, tangy with sweet hot mustard and a sauce livened up with beer.  Use a good, pale lager – too dark or rich a beer overpowers the meatballs.  You can leave out the beer if you prefer, and replace it with an equal amount of additional beef broth.  And here’s an idea: pick up some pastrami while you’re at the store – leftover dark rye and sweet-hot mustard make and excellent sandwich.

Let me also share a few little meatball making tips.  These freeze really well, so consider making a double batch.  Once you get your hands in there and get on a roll, you might as well keep going.  And if you are making any type of meatball and want to check for seasoning, make one little meatball and sauté it in a little oil.  Taste the cooked portion and adjust accordingly.

German Meatballs

For the Meatballs:

4 slices dark rye bread (to make 2 cups crumbs)

2 pounds bratwurst, casings removed

2 eggs, lightly beaten

½ cup milk

1 Tablespoon sweet hot mustard

1 teaspoon caraway seeds

For the Sauce:

3 Tablespoons butter

1/3 cup all-purpose flour

1 cup milk

2 cups low-sodium beef broth

1 cup lager beer

2 teaspoons sweet hot mustard

1 Tablespoon dark brown sugar

Salt to taste

For the meatballs:

Preheat the oven to 475 degrees.  Line 2 rimmed baking sheets with non-stick foil or foil sprayed lightly with cooking spray.

Tear the dark rye slices into chunks and drop in a food processor.  Process to small, rough crumbs.  You should end up with 2 cups of crumbs.

Place the bratwurst, bread crumbs and remaining meatball ingredients in a large bowl. Using your clean hands, squish everything together to mix well, making sure the meat is evenly distributed.  I find it easier to do this if the meat has been out of the fridge for about 15 minutes to take the chill off.  Roll the meat mixture into balls about the size of a ping pong ball.  A good, heaping tablespoon of mixture is about right.  Place the balls on the prepared sheets.  You should end up with about 30  – 35 meat balls.  Bake in the oven for 12 – 15 minutes until cooked through and browned.  Rotate the pans halfway during the cooking (top pan to bottom shelf).

Meanwhile, make the sauce.  Melt the butter in a large deep skillet or Dutch oven (the meatballs need to fit in) over medium high heat.  Sprinkle over the flour and stir until smooth, about 1 minute. Do not let the mixture darken. Gradually add the milk, the broth and the beer, whisking constantly. Whisk in the mustard and brown sugar and bring the sauce to a boil whisking frequently.  Reduce the heat and simmer the sauce until it thickens, about five minutes. Salt to taste. Remove from heat.

When the meatballs are done, remove them from the baking sheets to the sauce with a slotted spoon.  Stir to coat all the meatballs with the sauce. 

Serve immediately, or leave the meatballs and sauce to cool, stirring occasionally to coat the meatballs with sauce.  When cool, scoop into ziptop bags and seal. The meatballs and sauce can be refrigerated for up to three days or frozen for up to three months.

When ready to serve, scoop the meatballs and sauce into a saucepan.  Put ¼ cup of water in the ziptop bag, seal and shake to clean out any clinging sauce.  Pour the water into the pan with the meatballs and reheat slowly over medium heat stirring frequently. 

Serve over curly egg noodles and sprinkle with chopped fresh parsley.

Makes about 30 meatballs

Cooking with cola is a Southern tradition undoubtedly dates back to the days when the first glass bottles clinked onto the shelves of the Piggly Wiggly and the Jitney Jungle.  Frankly, in most parts of the South, cola means Atlanta’s own Coca-Cola, or as we call it Co-cola.  I love to cook with cola, from rich chocolaty co-cola cakes to ribs cooked in root beer.  I have even made red-eye gravy with co-cola instead of coffee. And the magnificent country hams of my childhood were often glazed sticky and black with co-cola.

As for drinking the full on sugar-rush of regular cola straight, it is not something I engage in.  Regular cola makes my teeth itch.  Since my transition into teenage girl-dom, I have followed the crowd, downing first TaB, the pink can my constant companion in those awkward teenage years, followed by an admitted lifelong addition to Diet Coke.  They know my name at Sonic.

But I will admit a fondness for Royal Crown Cola and not just because it is the perfect and fabled accompaniment to that other Southern treat, the Moon Pie.  My grandparents lived in a small town in Middle Tennessee, where there seemed to be a preponderance of RC Cola, why I don’t know.  Or maybe I just remember it that way, because the old-school drink vending machine at the farmers’ co-op in town dispensed RC from behind that narrow glass door that snapped open and closed so fast it took real skill to grab a bottle without getting slapped by the door.  The other option in that machine was Sun-Drop, an even yellower, even sweeter precursor to Mountain Dew.  Our grandfather would let us go to the co-op with him, and we would wonder around trying on old-man hats and marveling at the huge pairs of overalls and long johns on sale.  When Granddaddy needed to get down to business, he’d give us each a nickel (yes, the co-op machine took nickels) so we could go out to the soda machine – sometimes with a no Sun Drop warning.  We’d extract our drinks from the machine and sit on an old bench on the porch outside the co-op, swinging our legs and watching the world go by.  Sometimes, we’d be treated to a bag of salted peanuts to eat, or to pour into the bottle of RC.  And when we spent two weeks with or grandparents every summer to go to camp, my grandmother would tape quarters to the inside of the lid of our metal lunchboxes (I believe one of us had a Dukes of Hazard version) so we could get an RC out of the machine at lunch (but not Sun Drop).

So I wanted to create a recipe to pay tribute to my childhood fondness for Royal Crown Cola.  Something rich and comforting, like my memories.

Royal Crown Short Ribs

Okay, if you can’t get your hands on RC, any cola will do – as long as it is full-sugar.  No diet versions here. Serve these with creamy grits.

3 ½ – 4 pounds meaty short ribs

Salt and pepper

Olive oil

¼ cup bourbon

3 carrots, peeled

3 celery stalks

1 medium onion

6 cloves garlic

12 ounces tomato paste

3 cups Royal Crown cola (or your preferred brand)

2 cups water

3 bay leafs

7 – 8 sprigs of thyme, tied into a little bundle with kitchen string

Preheat the oven to 350 degrees.

Season the short ribs liberally on both sides with kosher salt and black pepper.  Pour in enough olive oil to coat the bottom of a large, heavy Dutch oven. Brown the short ribs in the oil on all sides until nicely browned and some of the fat has rendered out.  Give this time to evenly brown the meat, 10 – 15 minutes.  Remove the browned ribs to a plate.  Don’t crowd the ribs, you may need to do this in batches. 

While the ribs are browning, cut the carrot, celery, onion and garlic into chunks and place them in a food processor.  Grind them to a paste, with no big chunks left.  Now you have a sofrito to season your sauce.

When the ribs are browned, discard the oil and return the pan to the heat.  Carefully pour in the bourbon and scrape up any brown bits from the bottom of the pot. Cook until the bourbon is mostly reduced, then add a couple of tablespoons of olive oil and heat.  Add the vegetable paste, season well with salt and pepper and cook, stirring and scraping the bottom occasionally, until the vegetables are nicely browned and soft.  Add the tomato paste, stir well and cook until it begins to darken.  Pour in the cola and the water, and bring to a bubbling simmer.  Nestle the short ribs down into the sauce, doing your best to cover them with sauce.  You can add a bit more water if needed, just enough so the top of the ribs are not exposed.  Tuck the bay leaves and the thyme bundle down into the sauce, cover the pot and place in the oven.  Braise the ribs for 3 hours, checking occasionally to see that the sauce is not scorching on the bottom of the pot.  You can add a bit more water if it is.  Turn the ribs over in the sauce half-way through the cooking time.

When the ribs are ready, the meat will just peel away from the bones.  Remove the ribs from, pull away the bones and serve doused in the sauce.

Serves 4

There is magic in soup.  A beautiful kitchen alchemy in which a few simple ingredients are magically transformed into culinary precious treasure.  There is nothing to me more satisfying than hefting the weight of my good enameled cast-iron Dutch oven from its special nook and placing it on the burner, ready to start my experiments, ready to create.

Soup runs from the sublime to the simple, elegant to hearty, haute to homey.  I’ve been transported by a soup in Lisbon that tasted more of peas than a fresh pea picked from the vine in my garden, served with great pomp, the broth poured by a jacketed waiter to perfectly surround the tangle of pea shoots and a crème fraiche quenelle.  I have savored a broth so complex and rich, swimming with hand-pulled noodles and puddled with grease on the side of the road in Cambodia.  I have taken lessons in making traditional Moroccan harira from a cook in Marrakesch.  I have burned my mouth and singed my tongue on fiery rasam in Kerala.  I have perfected my own version of chicken noodle soup, packed with health-giving benefits.  And been more than comforted by a bowl of tomato soup and a grilled cheese sandwich prepared for me by my mother on the downest of days.

But this is perhaps my truest expression of soup love, because it is only partly mine.  With very little guidance, my nieces created this soup with me in my kitchen.  They decided what ingredients were necessary, chopped and sautéed, grated and stirred, tasted and perfected.  It is everything they wanted in a soup – favorite tastes combined to create a tasty bowl of happy.  It isn’t fancy or pretty – but why should it be? It’s good, it’s us, it’s our special aunt and nieces creation. I transcribe it here from my niece’s notes – “stuff to put in” followed by “do this” and ending with “Now you have cheeseburger soup!”  A better recipe was never written.

Bacon Cheeseburger Soup

4 strips of bacon

1 pound ground beef

1 cup finely chopped onion (about 1 medium onion)

3 cloves garlic, finely chopped

2 Tablespoons Worcestershire sauce

4 cups chicken broth

¼ cup all-purpose flour

1 ½ cup milk

2 cups grated cheddar cheese

2 Tablespoons yellow mustard

3 Tablespoons ketchup

Salt and pepper to taste

2 hamburger buns

Butter for the buns

Cook the bacon in a 5-quart Dutch oven until crispy, remove to paper towels to drain.  Add the ground beef to the pot with the bacon grease and cook until beginning to brown, breaking the meat into small pieces.  Add the chopped onion and garlic and cook until the onions are soft and the meat is cooked through.  Drain the fat from the pot, then return it to the heat. Stir in the Worcestershire sauce, then add the chicken broth and bring to the boil.  Reduce the heat to simmer.

Meanwhile, in a small bowl, whisk together the milk and the flour until smooth.   While the soup is simmering, stir in the flour and milk and stir and simmer until the soup is slightly thickened.  Add the grated cheese a handful at a time, stirring to melt after each addition.  When all the cheese is incorporated, stir in the mustard and the ketchup and add salt and pepper to taste. Crumble the cooked bacon and stir into the soup. Cover and simmer the soup for 10 minutes.

While the soup is simmering, spread each side of the hamburger buns with butter, cut into thin strips and toast in a toaster oven or under the broiler until lightly toasty.  Serve the soup immediately, accompanied by the bun croutons.  If you’d like, you could top with extra crumbled bacon, pickle relish, more grated cheese – anything you like on your cheeseburger!

Makes 4 big bowls