Years ago, during my event planning days, I helped a client plan a lovely riverside party, with a good old-fashioned fish fry.  This client was very particular.  About everything.  But particularly about slaw.  He insisted on vinegar-based slaw, not mayonnaise dressed.  The caterer took copious notes on his slaw pronouncements and produced what I (and everyone else who ate it) thought was a lovely slaw.  The client was not pleased however.  He insisted it had mayonnaise in it.  It had a creamy texture, but no mayonnaise.  The caterer explained exactly how it was made – with a vinegar dressing – but he refused to believe there was no mayo.  The rest of the evening was, to say the least, tense.

But all the talk of slaw led to a discussion of slaw preferences among the event staff back in the kitchen.  Everyone had an opinion – mayo, no  mayo, no vinegar, carrots, purple cabbage, green cabbage, bought pre-shredded or handcut.  I was not a real slaw aficionado, so I had no idea there were this many opinions.  Everyone was swapping ideas, writing down notes on napkins and this is the one I wrote down.  The lovely lady that shared this told me, “Honey, this’ll keep crispy in the fridge for weeks.”  I’ve never left it around for weeks, but it will stay nice and crisp through a long weekend.  In fact, that’s one of the reasons I call this picnic slaw, as opposed the ubiquitous creamy barbecue slaw served in every barbecue joint in Memphis.  Because of the vinegar dressing, this slaw holds very well in a cooler or on a picnic table. The salt water soak keeps the vegetables crispy and mellows the bite of the onions and the dressing is sweet-tart with the tang of vinegar and mustard seeds.

Crisp Picnic Slaw

I buy the ingredients for this at the farmers market, and when I saw the purple peppers I knew it would add a nice touch of color, but feel free to use only green.

1 medium head green cabbage

2 bell peppers (green and purple are my choice)

1 medium onion

2 Tablespoons salt

1 ½ cups cider vinegar

1 ½ cups sugar

½ Tablespoon mustard seeds

½ Tablespoon dill seed

Remove the outer leaves of the cabbage, cut it in half and remove the core.  Cut the halves in two, then shred the cabbage on a mandolin or in the food processor using the slicing disc.  Remove the seeds and thick ribs from the peppers, cut into quarters, and slice thinly like the cabbage.  Peel and quarter the onion and finely slice like the cabbage and peppers.  Toss everything together in a very big bowl.

Dissolve the 2 Tablespoons of salt in 8 cups of water.  I find table salt dissolves best.  Pour the salted water over the vegetables in the bowl and stir to distribute everything.  Soak the vegetables for 3- 4 hours, stirring occasionally.  Leave the bowl on the counter while doing this.

Meanwhile, stir the vinegar, sugar and seeds together in a saucepan and bring to a boil over high heat.  Boil for two minutes, then set aside to cool.

Drain the vegetables, shaking out as much water as possible.  Transfer the mix to a clean tea towel, roll it up and ring out as much water as possible from the cabbage.  Rinse and dry the big bowl, then return the cabbage mix, separating it and fluffing it up with your hands.  Pour over the vinegar dressing and toss to coat all the vegetables.  It may look like a lot of dressing, but that’s fine.  Cover the slaw with plastic wrap and refrigerate. The slaw can be eaten as soon as it is cold, but will stay crispy in the fridge for several days.  Serve with a slotted spoon to drain off excess dressing.

This makes a good amount of slaw, and will serve 8 nice big side portions, but many more smaller helpings.

I’ll be honest, I don’t actually know the history of Cinco de Mayo, I just know it’s a perfect excuse for a slap-up Mexican meal, and that is always a good thing.  And there is something so friendly and communal about a Mexican feast.  It’s a great way to gather friends and family, its interactive eating that everyone can enjoy. So for your own celebration, serve up some Smoky Beef Tacos or Green Chicken Chilaquiles, along with a side of Charro Beans.  Start your party off with some Green Chile Cheese Puffs.  And of course, don’t forget the Fresh Citrus Margaritas!

I have found some gorgeous red kidney beans at my local Latin/Asian/Caribbean/Middle Eastern supermarket from Guatemala called Frijol Pilay, but look for any dark burgundy, plump beans. Epazote is a popular dried herb in Mexican cooking, and I have been told that not only does it improve the flavors of beans, it aids in their digestion – and some of the impolite side affects. You’ll find it in the herb and spice section of Latin markets, but I pick it up at Penzey’s.  Mexican oregano has a more distinct flavor than standard (usually Turkish) oregano and is worth having around if you cook a lot of Latin dishes. My favorite restautant charro beans come with diced pieces of jalapeno floating in the broth, but I prefer a halved, cleaned pepper in to flavor the cooking liquid, instead of biting into pieces.  Do what you like, and add another pepper if you like it spicy.

Mexican chorizo is a soft, well-seasoned sausage (Spanish chorizo is hard and dry).  I buy freshly prepared at the Latin market, but it is readily available at many grocery stores.  It can range from mild to spicy, and if it’s labeled, choose mild so you can monitor your own flavor level.

Charro Beans

3 cups dried red kidney beans

1 small onion, diced

1 teaspoon epazote (optional)

1 teaspoon Mexican oregano

1 jalapeno pepper, stem, seeds and ribs removed

5 cloves garlic

Handful cilantro (stems and leaves)

1 pound fresh Mexican chorizo, casings removed if necessary

6 strips bacon, cut into small pieces

Sort through the beans and pick out any that are shriveled or imperfect.  Soak the dried beans in 6 cups of water, uncovered, overnight. The next day, drain the beans, rinse well and place in the crock of a large slow-cooker.  Add 6 cups of water, the diced onion, epazote, oregano, jalapeno pepper and garlic cloves and stir well.  Cover the crock and turn the pot to high, 6 hour setting.

When the beans are halfway cooked (3 hours), sauté the chorizo until brown, breaking it up into small pieces.  Remove to a heavy layer of paper towels on a plate to drain using a slotted spoon.  Drain off the oil, then sauté the bacon pieces until crispy.  Remove the bacon to paper towels to drain.  Pat the chorizo to remove as much grease as possible.  With a good chorizo, it will be bright red, so try not to stain your clothes.  Add the chorizo and bacon to the beans in the slow cooker, stir, replace the cover and continue cooking until the beans are tender.

If you don’t have a slow cooker, you can cook the soaked beans in a large Dutch oven over low-heat for 2 – 3 hours until tender.  Check the beans occasionally and stir to prevent scorching on the bottom, adding water as needed.

Serves 8- 10

Spring is finally here, and one of the first green vegetables to appear is asparagus.  Those tender little stems signal the end of the frosty winter and the hope of more good produce to come.  Treating the first spears simply seems like the right thing to do, after months of braises and stews and root vegetables, what could be more refreshing than simply cooked green goodness.

Sauce Maltaise is a version of the classic hollandaise, made with orange juice rather than strictly lemon.  Traditionally, its blood oranges, and I find that my upscale market usually has the last of the blood oranges and the first of the asparagus at the same time.  If you can’t find blood oranges, a regular juicy orange will do fine.  The sauce takes on a lovely pinkish tint perfect for spring celebrations, and is a great compliment to the bright green asparagus.

Hollandaise has always been a bit of a trick, and despite multiple readings of Julia Child, several classes and many failed attempts, I find the traditional method a bit beyond me.  Too hit or miss really.  Sometimes I get it, and feel triumphant, but more often I don’t and vow never to make hollandaise again.  But this blender method is pretty idiot proof and produces a thick, creamy sauce in minutes.  Just make sure your butter is hot and not at all browned.  And use the best ingredients for this, splurge on some high-fat European-style butter and farm-fresh eggs if you can.  Those bright yellow yolks give such amazing flavor and beautiful color.

As I said, I like to treat the asparagus simply so I give the instructions for a quick boil, but feel free to steam the spears, or even grill them – whatever you prefer.  And the sauce maltaise can be used in any way you use hollandaise – in eggs benedict or on other vegetables.

Asparagus with Sauce Maltaise

1 pound bunch of asparagus

½ cup (1 stick) butter

3 egg yolks

1 teaspoon blood orange zest

2 Tablespoons blood orange juice

1 Tablespoon lemon juice

½ teaspoon salt

Fill a large bowl with ice water and set aside.

In a pan wide enough to hold the asparagus, bring several inches of water to a boil (enough to fully cover the asparagus.  Break off the thicker, woody stems of the asparagus spears.  When you hold the bottom of the spears and bend, they will naturally snap off at the right place.  Boil the asparagus for 4 -5 minutes until tender, but with a little bite left. Using tongs or a slotted spoon, immediately lift the asparagus into the waiting ice water, submerging completely.  When the asparagus has cooled, remove it from the water, shake off and place in a single layer on a tea towel to dry.  At this point, you may cover and chill the asparagus for several hours.

Make the sauce maltaise immediately before serving the asparagus.  Cut the butter into chunks and place in a small saucepan, one with a pouring spout if you’ve got it.  Melt the butter over medium heat, swirling it around occasionally until it is fully melted but not browned at all.  While it’s melting, place the egg yolks, orange zest, orange and lemon juice and salt in the carafe of a blender.  Whir it around to mix it all together.  When the butter has melted, turn on the blender and slowly drizzle the warm butter into the sauce in a steady stream.  When the butter has all been incorporated, turn off the blender.  You should have an emulsion as thicker than heavy cream.

Serve the sauce maltaise with the asparagus immediately. If absolutely necessary, place the blender carafe in a sink filled with warm water up to the level of the sauce for 30 minutes to keep warm.

Serves 4 – 6, makes ¾ cup sauce

Here’s a helpful springtime tip: If you eat a lot of asparagus, and are always popping off the woody stems, save them in a plastic bag in the freezer until you have a good bag full.  Use them to make a stock for an asparagus soup, which is a particularly good use for the last-of-the-season spears.

Nothing motivates one to get in the kitchen more than a funeral.  We all seem to harbor that primordial need to comfort with food.  And there are fixed ideas – recipes that we keep in mind, or maybe on a card at the front of the recipe box for easy access.  A hearty, comforting dish that we know how to make and how to make well that we can whip up the instant the call comes.  Turkey Tetrazzini? Chicken Divan?  I am sure it varies region to region.  The popular green bean casserole that I understand is a standard part of the traditional Thanksgiving table in many parts of the country is almost universally known in this part of the world as “funeral beans.”  But I don’t think I have every seen a table at a Southern visitation without Tomato Aspic.  The visitation is the reception, frequently the day before, or immediately after the funeral.  It’s a chance for everyone to talk to the bereaved, share memories of the deceased and really get their feed on.  And, equally importantly, for the ladies in the equation to show off their skills in the kitchen.  Friends and family of the recently departed are in the kitchen, bustling around in their funeral best,  maybe an apron thrown on top, looking for serving pieces and saran wrap, deciding what goes on the table and what goes in the fridge for later,

Tomato aspic is made in a mold. And this can vary from person to person.  My mother has a whole collection of aspic molds, from plain round to fancy.  Party aspic is generally formed in a ring mold, so the center can be mounded up with shrimp, chicken salad, mayonnaise (homemade of course), artichoke hearts… You name it, someone has put in the center of an aspic.  This party tomato aspic is always served on a silver tray, usually resting on a bed of lettuce leaves, with parsley around the edge of the tray.  And it is the rare chance to use the silver aspic server that was a wedding gift, or inherited from a grandmother; a silver handle with a flat, round or slightly pointed surface, sometimes plain, sometimes intricately etched.

Though aspic always appears at funerals, it is not the only time it makes an appearance.  For tomato aspic is the mainstay of the ladies luncheon. For this application, it is sometimes made in little individual molds (two sizes of these also appear in my mother’s collection), served on lettuce with a dollop of homemade mayonnaise on top.  Though more often, a slice of aspic is the centerpiece of a three salad plate, the other two salads vary from chicken salad, tuna salad, fruit salad – you get the picture.

I will be honest here, I am not a huge fan of tomato aspic.  I am a polite Southern girl though, and always eat it when it is put in front of me. And I do feel that for full Southern lady credentials, you have to be able to make an aspic. The recipe below is the version I prefer, tailored to my own tastes, with a nice celery tang and plenty of tomato flavor and a minimum of the truly odd ingredients you sometimes see in old recipes.  Members of my family are aspic eaters and they have always given this a thumbs up. 

Tomato Aspic

5 ¾ cups (46 ounces) tomato juice

3 packets unflavored gelatin

½ medium onion, chopped

½ cup chopped celery leaves

2 Tablespoons Worcestershire sauce

1 Tablespoon sugar

1 teaspoon celery salt

1 teaspoon salt

Lightly brush a 5-cup ring mold or equivalent individual molds with flavorless vegetable oil.  This is a vital step – cooking spray doesn’t work well.

Place 2 cups of the tomato juice in a small bowl and stir in the gelatin to dissolve.  Set aside.

Pour the remaining tomato juice into a large saucepan, add the remaining ingredients and stir to combine.  Bring to a boil, then simmer reduce the heat, cover the pan and simmer for ten minutes.

Strain the juice into a bowl with a pouring spout. Press on the solids to release any juice then discard.  Whisk in the reserved gelatin mixture until thoroughly combined.  Carefully pour into the prepared ring mold, filling as full as possible.

Very carefully transfer the mold to the refrigerator.  When the aspic has cooled, cover the mold with plastic wrap, then chill until firm, at least 8 hours or overnight.

Unmold the aspic onto an elegant tray, and surround with parsley.

What’s in a name? I have been pondering how to share this recipe for some time now.  It’s a classic I’ve enjoyed my whole life that I’ve always known as carrot pudding.  But I worried that might be a bit misleading. You see, I want people to be intrigued, and to try this recipe, because it is so worth it.  Carrot casserole sounds so boring. I considered calling it a soufflé, but that is a bit grand for this humble dish. So I stuck with pudding.  This is not creamy, cold pudding like the chocolate dessert of childhood.  It’s from a class of Southern traditional dishes, a simple, baked, comforting, homey dish.  I have a repertoire of these puddings.  Corn pudding and chicken pudding and tomato pudding, all savory and all delicious.

But this dish walks the fine line between savory and sweet.  It is usually served as a side dish for a rich meat like pork chops or loin, but I have often had it served as a light luncheon dish for bridal or baby showers.  It is a feature in many of the local community cookbooks around here, and was a regular feature of a certain local caterer for many years.  I have jumped off from those recipes, jazzing things up with a fresh grating of orange zest to add brightness and fresh ginger for zing.  Most recipes I’ve read simply call for “mashed carrots,” and many cooks just boil the carrots and mash them.  But I like to roast them in a little butter to really bring out the carrot flavor and natural sweetness, and I finish in the food processor to speed things up.

Carrot Pudding

2 pounds carrots, peeled (2 yield 2 cups, mashed)

2 Tablespoons plus ½ cup (1 stick) butter, melted

Grated zest of one medium orange

1 Tablespoon grated fresh ginger

1 cup sugar

2 Tablespoons all-purpose flour

3 eggs

1 teaspoon baking powder

1 cup milk

½ teaspoon cinnamon

¼ teaspoon nutmeg

¼ teaspoon cloves

Pinch of salt

Preheat the oven to 350 degrees.  Butter a 2-quart baking dish.

Cut the carrot into equally sized chunks, and toss with the 2 Tablespoons melted butter on a large rimmed baking tray.  You just want the carrots slightly lubricated, not greasy or swimming in butter.  Roast the carrots for 30 – 40 minutes, until they are soft, but do not let them brown.

Dump the carrots into the bowl of a food processor and process until you have a rough puree.  You may need to start with half the carrots, then add the rest. You want to end up with 2 heaping cups of puree. Leave the puree to cool.

Grate the orange zest and ginger into the carrot puree and blend.  Add the remaining ½ cup melted butter and the rest of the ingredients, and process until smooth and creamy.  Scrape the mixture into the prepared baking dish.

Bake the carrot pudding until firm in the middle and slightly browned around the edges, about 30 – 40 minutes. Serve immediately.  Leftovers can be reheated in the microwave.

Serves 6 – 8

Easy and good. Maybe two of the best words ever for busy cooks. This is a great little recipe for a simple, crispy salad that highlights autumn’s goodness.  I make this for myself throughout the season.  I love it beside a peanut butter sandwich, but I have also put it in a pita with a few spinach leaves.  I’ve made this for kids and it’s always a big hit. You can serve it on its own, or over greens. This can be an elegant accompaniment or a great lunchbox treat.  What more could you ask for?

Frozen apple juice concentrate provides sweetness and apple tang and does not thin the dressing too much as apple juice would.  I think you’ll love this salad and want to make it often, so you can transfer the remaining concentrate to a freezer container and save it for your next batch.  You can also use the leftover to sweeten an autumn iced tea made with spice or cinnamon tea bags.  The mayonnaise adds a great tang, and you can use low-fat if you must.  A handful of dried cranberries would not go amiss in this salad.

Cinnamon Apple Salad

2 Tablespoons frozen apple juice concentrate, slightly thawed

1/2 cup mayonnaise

1 teaspoon cinnamon

1 green apple

1 red apple

1 cup red or purple grapes

1/2 cup walnut pieces

In a medium bowl, whisk the mayonnaise, apple juice concentrate and cinnamon together.

Cut the apples in half, remove the core and chop into small pieces.  As you cut the apples, drop them into the bowl with the dressing and stir to coat and prevent browning.  Cut the grapes in half and add to the bowl, stirring to coat.  Add the walnuts and stir to coat and combine.

The salad will keep covered in the fridge for 3 days.

 Serves 6

This is hardly a recipe, more like a set of instructions, but I wanted to share it before this long weekend of picnics and cookouts and gatherings, because it is so good and so simple and so perfect for this last official weekend of summer. 

I first had this in South Africa several years ago, as part of a big beautiful lunch spread at a safari camp.  I was impressed by its simplicity, and I had never seen the combo of watermelon and feta before and thought it very exotic.  I have since seen many more dressed-up versions of this – drizzled with vinaigrette, tossed with olives, served with onions slivers.  But I love this simple, fresh, three ingredient original.  I was recently invited to dinner at a friend’s, and we all volunteered to bring something.  Before I expressed a preference, I was ordered to bring ”that watermelon salad” by another friend (not the hostess)!  It reminded me of just how good this salad is.  You can obviously make a larger or smaller batch for your gathering.

Watermelon and Feta Salad

I highly recommend using blocks of feta cut into chunks.  Don’t be tempted by the pre-crumbled variety here as it tends to break down and coat the watermelon with a sandy grit.

½ of a medium-sized watermelon

2 (8-ounce) blocks of feta cheese

A nice big handful of fresh mint leaves

Cut the pink flesh of the watermelon into small, bite-sized chunks and place in large bowl.  I like a pretty glass one to show off the gorgeous colors.  Cut the feta into chunks roughly the same size as the watermelon pieces and add to the bowl.  Finley chop the mint leaves and sprinkle half over the watermelon and feta.  Toss VERY gently to combine, adding the rest of the mint as you do so it is evenly distributed.

This salad does best made within an hour of serving, so the feta doesn’t break down.  To make it ahead, chop the watermelon and toss with the mint, cover and refrigerate.  Cut the feta into chunks and store separately in the fridge.  Toss together shortly before serving.

Serves 8

Baked beans are almost a staple here.  I cannot think of a barbecue place in Memphis that doesn’t serve beans on the side.  And if you live in Memphis, you eat barbecue.  Some places stir in bits of pulled pork shoulder, some make the beans with their house barbecue sauce, some throw in jalapenos.  And of course, some places have better beans than others.  But when you are eating a nice shoulder sandwich, or a big rack of ribs, the beans seem to be the perfect compliment.  I love baked beans, so in the barbecue setting, even bad baked beans are still pretty good.

For most of my life, a barbecue meal was the only time I ever ate baked beans.  They were not a part of our meal cycle at home.  But several years ago, I got it into my head to make my own version.  I looked around for recipes, and most of what I found involved doctoring up a couple of big cans of baked beans.  Friends I asked mostly had no idea: “Just buy some from your favorite barbecue place.”  Finally, while lamenting my lack of baked beans recipes, a friend offered up hers – that she’d of course had for years.  She calls them Firehouse Beans.  It involved beans, onions, bacon and sauce – but also a couple of big cans of pork and beans.  I loved the recipe.  I made it all the time.  It became one of those recipes – the kind that for a period of time, you can’t stop making.  I made those beans at any chance I got.  I made it for family gatherings.  I invited friends over to grill so I could make the beans.  I made the beans whenever asked to bring something to a party.  I took the beans to lake weekends.  I made the beans for myself and froze the extras.

Eventually, the beans got a break in my repertoire, after I had fed them to anyone who would eat them.  But when the time came to resurrect the beans, I decided to come up with a way to make them without the canned pork and beans.  Now, I still use canned beans, rinsed and drained thoroughly.  The mix of beans are coated in a sweet, tangy, slightly spicy sauce with onions and smoky bacon.  I don’t know what my friend will think of the changes I have made to her recipe, but I love these beans even more.  They are definitely back in rotation.

This recipe makes a HUGE batch of beans, perfect for a big weekend party, with burgers and dogs or barbecue.  The recipe is easily halved, and extras freeze well.  You can make the beans a day before serving them and keep them in the fridge.  Reheat them over low heat in the pot, or better yet, scoop into a casserole dish and reheat in the oven.  I love these so much, I even bought a 9x 13 glass dish with an insulated carrier to tote them to parties!

Brilliant Baked Beans

I happily use a 10-ounce bag of frozen chopped onions.  I love the subtlety of cane syrup, but dark corn syrup, sorghum or maple syrup works as well.

1 pound bacon

3 cups chopped onions

1 cup ketchup

¾ cup apple cider vinegar

½  cup dark brown sugar

¼ cup cane syrup, sorghum, or dark corn syrup

2 teaspoons dry English mustard

1 teaspoon salt

1 teaspoon pepper

2 ½  cups apple cider or pure apple juice

8 (16 – ounce) cans of beans – a combinations of kidney beans, red beans, pinto beans, great northern beans or navy beans (black beans do not work), rinsed and drained

Cut the bacon into small pieces, place in a large Dutch oven and sauté over medium high heat until crispy.  Remove the bacon from pan with a slotted spoon to drain on paper towels.  Drain off half of the bacon drippings (reserve for another use). Leave the bacon grease to cool a little bit, the put onions in the pot and sauté until soft and translucent.  If you drop the onions into the blistering hot grease, they will fry and be crispy, not soft and caramelized.

Meanwhile, whisk ketchup, vinegar, sugar, syrup, mustard powder, salt and pepper in a small bowl.  When the onions are soft, pour in the sauce and stir to coat.  Cook until bubbling and the sugar is melted.  Pour in the apple cider and stir until heated through.

Drop the drained beans into the pot and stir carefully to coat with the sauce.  Stir in half the crisped bacon.  Bring the pot to bubbling, then lower the heat, cover and simmer for one hour, stirring occasionally to prevent the beans from sticking.  Stir carefully or the beans will break up and become mushy. Near the end of the cooking time, stir in the remainder of the bacon.

Serves 15

I honed my squash cooking techniques years ago when I first started planning events for a living.  I had two wonderful clients planning a big, beautiful outdoor wedding for their daughter on their sprawling, picturesque property.  The father of the bride had an elaborate garden, raised, tiered beds all surrounded by a critter-proof cage.  Every time I came out to meet with my clients, the FOB sent me home with huge sacks of squash and zucchini from his garden.  I am not much of a gardener, but I do understand that well-tended squashes can produce like gangbusters in our climate and those who grow them are often looking for excuses to get rid of the bounty.  I’ll admit, at the time I found all this a bit of a burden.  I am not talking about one or two little squash.  I am talking about large paper grocery sacks overflowing with large zucchini and several varieties of yellow squash.  He was so sweet, and this was a big event to me, that I felt obligated to make use all that produce (I passed as much as I could off on my own family).  Basically, I am too polite to accept the gift, then not cook with it.  I took them a few loaves of zucchini bread, but by the look on the Mother of the Bride’s face, I could tell she’d her fill of that as well.  So that summer, between weddings and parties, it was all squash, all the time.

My favorite way to eat yellow squash has always been in a good, old-fashioned creamy casserole.  This is one of those dishes that people prefer “their way.”  You know, “I make my squash casserole with…” But here is my version.  I’ve added lots of fresh thyme, which grows beautifully in my small garden, mild Monterrey jack cheese and tangy sour cream.  The buttery cracker topping is an oldy but a goody.

Summer Squash Casserole

2 pounds yellow summer crookneck squash

1 sweet yellow onion, preferably Vidalia

2 Tablespoons butter

2 Tablespoons olive oil

8 ounces Monterrey jack cheese, grated

3 eggs

1 cup (8-ounce container) sour cream

1 bunch fresh thyme leaves

2 Tablespoons chopped fresh parsley leaves

45 buttery round crackers, like Ritz, to make 2 cups crumbs

2 Tablespoons butter, melted

Wash and dry the squash and slice into rounds about ¼ inch thick.  You can use a mandoline, or the slicing disk on a food processor (then you can switch disks to grate the cheese).  Place the squash slices in a large sauté pan and add ¾ cup salted water.  Cook the squash, covered, over medium-high heat until the squash is just tender, about 5 minutes.  Drain the squash in the colander, shaking gently several times to remove as much water as possible.

Dice the onion.  Wipe out the sauté pan, then melt the butter with olive oil over medium heat.  Add the onions and cook slowly until soft and translucent, stirring frequently.  You want the onions to be glassy and soft, but not browned.  Transfer the drained squash to a large bowl and add the cooked onion, stirring gently to combine.  Leave to cool.

Preheat the oven to 375 degrees.   Spray a 2 quart baking dish with nonstick spray.

Strip the thyme leaves from the stems and finely chop.  In a small bowl, beat the eggs, add the sour cream and thyme leaves and stir until smooth.  Season with salt and a liberal amount of pepper. 

Drain any accumulated liquid from the squash and onions in the bowl and gently stir in ½ of the grated cheese.  Stir in the sour cream mixture to coat the squash.  Taste to see if you need anymore salt.  Scrape the squash into the prepared baking dish and smooth the top.  Sprinkle the remaining cheese evenly over the squash.

Place the crackers in a ziptop bag and crush very fine using a rolling pin or the heel of your hand.  Mix the crumbs, chopped parsley and melted butter in a small bowl and stir to combine.  Sprinkle the crumbs over the squash and spread out to evenly cover.

Cover the casserole loosely with foil and bake for 30 minutes, until it is golden brown, puffed and bubbling at the edges. Remove the foil in the last 10 minutes of baking to brown the crumbs. Serve immediately.

The unbaked casserole will keep covered in the fridge for up to a day.

Serves 6 – 8

I love community cookbooks. The great and broad recipe collections gathered together by Junior Leagues, Junior Auxiliaries, symphony groups, historic homes, garden clubs.  I have a large and ever-growing collection of these treasures.  Some of them are quite professional nowadays, with editors and trained photographers.  But I particularly love the old-school cookbooks, from the Forties, Fifties and Sixties.  Spiral-bound, ragged covers, hand-drawn illustrations and spelling mistakes. These to me are like a glimpse into the life and kitchens of the ladies of a community, how they fed their families and how they entertained.  Little added notes like “good for a ladies lunch” or “feeds a crowd” or my favorite “the menfolk will eat this up.”  Often, the recipes themselves lack detail or clear instructions – you can tell the person who submitted it just jotted down how she makes it, and it seems so second nature to her it doesn’t occur to explain in at any length.  I’ve gotten pretty good at teasing out these recipes. I’ve tried some over and over that just never worked and others, with a little help, are standards in my repertoire.  And isn’t it amazing how recipes seem to resonate around the world?  I have old cookbooks from Detroit, from New Jersey and all over this region and the same recipes keep popping up – with the same unusual ingredients and colorful names.

Of course, my favorite community cookbooks are the ones from the communities I feel connected too.  There are many great ones here in Memphis, and part of what I enjoy about these books is that they are familiar to so many friends and families.  How often have I been at a party and someone comments on a dish and the hostess says, “oh you know, it’s that recipe from Heart and Soul” with that assumption that everyone owns the cookbook.  Or asked a friend how she makes a dish and the answer is “I just use the recipe in Party Potpourri”.  Some recipes do transcend ownership of the actual book.  Everyone just knows a certain recipe and how it’s made – and can recognize it immediately when it’s served.  I love that.

One recipe that has always been in my consciousness is Fire and Ice Tomatoes.  How it got in my mind, I can’t imagine, because as I child I would never have eaten anything resembling a raw tomato.  The original recipe, to the best of my knowledge, is from The James K. Polk Cookbook, produced by the James K. Polk Memorial Auxiliary of Columbia, Tennessee in 1978.  Columbia is the town my mother grew up in, and President Polk had a home there that is now a historical site.  My aunt served on the committee that produced the wonderful Provisions and Politics: Recipes Honoring First Lady Sarah Childress Polk, a follow up to the original Polk cookbook published in 2003.  The book is a collection of new and fresh recipes, with a few old favorites thrown in.  When she started with the project, my first question was “it will include Fire and Ice Tomatoes, right?”  Both my mother and my aunt had no idea what I was talking about – they had to be reminded of the recipe.  So how it became a part of my recipe memory bank, I will never know.  But I do know that it is good.  And it’s the perfect weekend recipe – not that it takes a weekend to prepare, but once you’ve made it, it can sit in it’s container in the fridge to be served up and snacked on all weekend.  These make a great side to a grilled meal, a refreshing accompainemt to a lunch time sandwich, or an elegant first course salad.

Fire and Ice Tomatoes

The original recipe says these tomatoes will keep in the fridge up to 3 days, but I happily keep them up to five. 

6 large ripe, red tomatoes

1 yellow onion

1 green bell pepper

¾ cup white wine vinegar

¼ cup cold water

1 ½ teaspoons mustard seed

1 ½ teaspoons sugar

1 ½ teaspoons celery salt

½ teaspoon salt

1/8 teaspoon cayenne pepper

1/8 teaspoon black pepper

Cut the tomatoes into eight wedges each and place in a 9 by 13 inch glass or ceramic dish.  Finely dice the onion and sprinkle over the tomatoes.  Core, seed and remove the ribs of the bell pepper and cut into thin strips (if the pepper is long, cut the strips in half).  Scatter the peppers over the tomatoes and onions.

In a saucepan, combine the vinegar, water, mustard seeds, sugar, celery salt, salt and peppers.  Bring to a boil, stirring, and boil for one minute.  Immediately pour the hot vinegar mixture over the tomatoes, then stir gently to combine. Leave the tomatoes to cool slightly, then cover with plastic wrap and refrigerate.  Leave to marinate for several hours, stirring occasionally.

Serve on its own as a salad or a side dish or atop some lettuce leaves.  You can pull out some of the tomato wedges and cut them into smaller pieces, stir in some of the dressing and vegetables and use this like a salsa as well.

Serves 6 to 8

Adapted from Provisions and Politics: Recipes Honoring Sarah Childress Polk