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 October rolls around, I start thinking about beer.  Because I start thinking about Oktoberfest.  I’ve never been to Germany, so I’ve never been to a real Oktoberfest celebration, which I understand generally happen at the end of September anyway.  But the idea of Oktoberfest just presents so many options for cooking with, and drinking, good beer. It’s impossible to pass up.

So here is my contribution to the festivities this year.  A nice little beer- based starter.  Tangy with camembert cheese and beer and studded with crispy bacon, these would make a great starter to a meal of German Meatballs, or Belgian Beef and Beer Stew with a selection of nice, crisp beer.  There are so many amazing imported and locally made beers out there now, it’s a great chance to have a little tasting party to familiarize yourself with the latest options.  In the name of research, of course.  So, the name of this recipe is a little silly, but any celebration focused on beer is bound to get silly at some point…

Bacon CamemBeer Bites

Use a good beer you like to drink, but not a dark or amber.  The color would be muddy and the taste overwhelming.

½ pound bacon

7 ounce round of camembert cheese

1 cup pale or golden ale or lager

4 Tablespoons butter

¼ teaspoon ground mustard

¼ teaspoon smoked paprika

Dash of cayenne pepper

1 cup all-purpose flour

4 eggs, room temperature

1 teaspoon Dijon mustard

1 teaspoon salt

Cook the bacon until crispy and drain on paper towels.  Finely dice the bacon and set aside. Cut the rind off the camembert as best you can, cut it into small pieces and leave it to come to roomtemperature.

Pour the beer into a high-sided saucepan, add the ground mustard, smoked paprika and cayenne.  Drop in the butter, cut into pieces. Bring the beer and the butter to a boil over medium heat, stirring until the butter melts.  When the beer is boiling, dump the flour in all at once and stir vigorously with a sturdy spatula or wooden spoon until the dough comes together in a ball.  Remove from the heat and continue stirring until the mixture is smooth.  Add the eggs one at a time, stirring vigorously after each addition until the mixture is smooth.  Drop in the camembert pieces and continue stirring until it is melted into the dough.  Stir in the bacon, mustard and salt.

Refrigerate the dough for 20 minutes while you preheat the oven to 350° degrees and line a baking sheet with parchment paper.  Take the dough from the fridge and using a 2 Tablespoon scoop or spoons, drop mounds of dough onto the prepared sheets,  about ½ inch apart.  Bake for 15 – 17 minutes until puffed and golden. They puff up quickly, wait until they are firm and golden brown on top to take out them out.  They willdeflate a bit, no worries.  Serve immediately.

Makes 18

Every community, particularly in the South, has those handful of classic community cookbooks that everyone seems to own, or haveaccess to, or just know about.  They are the reference points for the community table. Compiled by church auxiliaries, symphony leagues, historic societies, these treasure troves bind a community through the most essential love we all share. Food.   When you are at a party, or have friends over and someone prepares a great dish, how often is the answer to the recipe request, “oh, it’s in…”  In Memphis, the end of that sentence is frequently, “Heart and Soul” one of the most popular of the local Junior League’s cookbook offerings.  There are recipes included in Heart and Soul that people know by heart now, that are as much a part of the Memphis lexicon as an Elvis song.  But there a few that get overlooked.  This is one of those recipes.

I never really noticed this delicious appetizer recipe in the book, but awhile back, a friend served it at book club.  We were all much impressed.  She offhandedly remarked “oh, it’s just from “Heart and Soul.”  It took me awhile, but I pulled out the book and made the recipe myself, and it is so good, it is worth sharing.  These tender little golden bites are so surprising.  Rich with chicken and a real depth from the seasonings.  These make a nice change from your standard appetizer fare.

I have made a few adjustments to the recipe to streamline the prep, and I serve them now with a blue cheese dip, which complements the chicken and pecans so well. I do recommend celery salt, but if you don’t have it on hand, try your favorite seasoned salt or a little plain salt.  And these do freeze beautifully, so you can always have some on hand.

Chicken Pecan Bites with Blue Cheese Dip

For the Chicken Bites:

1 cooked boneless, skinless chicken breast

1 cup chicken broth

½ cup butter

1 cup all-purpose flour

4 eggs, at room temperature

½ cup chopped pecans

3 Tablespoons chopped fresh parsley

2 teaspoons Worcestershire sauce

1 teaspoon poultry seasoning

1.2 teaspoon celery salt

For the Dip:

4 ounces crumbled blue cheese

8 ounces plain Greek yogurt

2 Tablespoons mayonnaise

1 -2 Tablespoons milk or buttermilk

Generous grindings of black pepper

For the Chicken Bites:

Melt the butter in the chicken broth in a medium saucepan over medium heat.  Dump in the flour all at once and stir vigorously with a sturdy wooden spoon.  The mixture will roll away from the sides of the pan and come together in a ball.  Keep stirring until the mixture is relatively smooth.  Remove from the heat and leave to cool slightly.

Meanwhile, finely chop the cooked chicken breast.  You want small pieces.

When the flour mixture has cooled, add the eggs one at a time, beating well after each addition until smooth and completely combined.  Stir in the chicken, pecans, parsley, Worcestershire, poultry seasoning and celery salt and stir until well combined.

Line a rimmed baking sheet with parchment paper.  Scoop the chicken bites onto the pan.  I use a 2 Tablespoon cookie scoop for a nice hearty bite, which makes about 2 dozen.  Feel free to scoop smaller bites if you’d prefer.

You can preheat to oven to 400 degrees and cook the bites immediately for 20- 30 minutes until firm and golden, or freeze the tray of unbaked bites for a few hours until firm, then remove to a zip-top freezer bag.  Bake from frozen, but you may need to increase the cooking time accordingly. Serve warm or at room temperature.

Makes 24, more if you choose to make them smaller

For the Dip:

Place the blue cheese, yogurt, and mayonnaise in a blender and blend until smooth.  Add a little milk to thin it out to a dipping consistency as needed.  Season generously with black pepper.  Pour the dip in a bowl, cover and refrigerate until ready to use.

The dip can be made up to 2 days ahead.  You may want to thin it with a little milk before serving.

Makes 1 ¼ cup

Adapted from Heart and Soul: Stirring Recipes from Memphis

If you are like me, you open magazines and cookbooks and admire the beautiful photography. The casually laid tables bursting with delicious dishes, the beautiful vessels holding each delicacy, simplicity and refinement, but with the decadence of good food. And you think – I can do that. I can casually invite a few friends round, act like it’s no big deal, then present an amazing tableau of culinary largesse, and the perfect champagne in fabulous Danish glasses, or an impressive cocktail with rare herbal infusions. I can just throw together a selection of charcuterie and artisanal cheeses, add a few exotic fruits or homemade pickles, artfully fold it all on an old piece of reclaimed plywood and boy, won’t my friends be impressed.

But the reality is driving to delis all over town to find interesting cured meats and cheeses, realizing the most exotic fruit you can find is purple grapes, and running out of time to pickle your own vegetables. And the wood board you ask for at Chrsitmas – just for this purpose – is really only big enough for a sliver of salami and a finger of cheese. The champagne was too expensive, and the herbal infusions just another time suck. Thankfully, for good measure, you made “simple” bruschetta from a two page instructional guide in a fancy magazine. But the toppings just got all over the floor and your $40 a bottle extra virgin, cold-pressed, first-of-the-season, mail order olive oil has just dribbled on and ruined your best friends new silk top.

That is why I love this dish. It’s another recipe that has my favorite characteristic: easy to make while appearing complex. No, it is not slapping some cold cuts on a lumber off cut, it does take a little work, but the results are impressive. Simple, but elegant. This is the kind of dish that makes it look like you really know what you are doing in the kitchen. Like you actually are the kind of person who could just throw together a magazine-spread worthy gathering at a moment’s notice. And really, as long as people believe it, then it must be true…

Baked Ricotta and Goat Cheese with Candied Tomatoes

Don’t skip draining the ricotta or your baked dish will be watery.

For the baked cheese:

15 ounces whole milk ricotta cheese

4 ounce log goat cheese

1 egg

2 Tablespoons fresh marjoram leaves, or a leafy herb of your choice

Generous grindings of black pepper

Generous sprinkling of kosher salt

For the candied tomatoes:

1 Tablespoon olive oil

12 ounces cherry tomatoes

¼ cup vermouth

¼ cup light brown sugar

3 sprigs marjoram or leafy herb of your choice

Sea salt

For the baked cheese:

Place the ricotta in a colander lined with cheese cloth and leave to drain for about 30 minutes, pressing down to help extract liquid.

Preheat the oven 375 degrees. Brush the inside of a 2 cup baking dish with olive oil.

In the small bowl of a stand mixer, beat the ricotta, goat cheese and egg until smooth. Beat in the herbs (chopped if the leaves are large), a generous amount of pepper and salt. Taste your goat cheese first, saltier cheeses require less additional salt.

Spoon the cheese mixture into the prepared baking dish and bake for 40 minutes, or until puffed in the center and browning.

Let the cheese cool slightly, then invert it out onto a plate.

For the tomatoes:

While the cheese is baking, heat the olive oil in a large skillet over medium heat, then drop in the tomatoes. Cook, stirring frequently, until the skins on the tomatoes start to split. Pull the pan off the flame, add the vermouth and return to the heat. Add the brown sugar and herbs and stir until the sugar is melted. Add a generous pinch of salt. Lower the heat and cook gently until the liquid is reduced to a syrupy coating for the tomatoes. The tomatoes will collapse and some may disintegrate. That’s fine.

When ready to serve, spoon the candied tomatoes over the warm baked cheese and serve with sliced baguette or crostini.

The baked cheese can be prepared a few hours in advance and then baked before serving. It is best served warm, but not necessarily right out of the oven. The tomatoes can be prepared ahead too and gently reheated before serving.

Serves 8 – 10

I love these little puffs.  They are tender and cheesy with a nice bite from the green chiles and couldn’t be easier to make.  They are a great nibble to start a family taco night but are also elegant enough for the swankiest party. 

Green Chile Cheese Puffs

I love the extra little hit of smoked paprika on top, but use sweet paprika if that’s what you have.

½ pound sharp cheddar cheese

1 cup all-purpose flour

½ teaspoon salt

½ cup (1 stick) butter, softened

2 (4-ounce) cans diced green chiles, well-drained

Paprika or smoked paprika for sprinkling

Preheat the oven to 350 degrees.  Line a baking sheet with parchment paper or a silicone mat.

Grate the cheese with the grating disc of a food processor.  You should end up with 2 cups.  Switch to the metal blade and add the flour, salt and butter.  Pulse several times until the butter is cut into the flour.  Add the green chiles and process until the dough comes together in a ball.

Roll pieces of the dough into balls about the size of a golf ball and place on the baking sheet, about an inch apart.  These will spread when cooking, so leave some room. Sprinkle a little paprika over the tops of the puffs.  Bake for 10 – 15 minutes, until the puffs are firm and golden brown.

Serve warm or at room temperature.

Makes about 2 dozen puffs

Chestnuts roasting on an open fire. I guess Nat King Cole and Bing Crosby have made chestnuts part of the holiday season for ever. I never really knew what that line was all about until my first holiday season in London, where vendors sell roasting chestnuts from special carts on the main shopping streets, and the fragrance they produce really does make the air smell like Christmas. We don’t do that here, so it was a new experience for me.  In fact, it has only been in the last few years that chestnuts started to appear in stores here.  For me, the chestnut frenzy starts when I first see the jars of roasted and peeled chestnuts on the shelf.  I start going on a spree, stocking up just in case I can’t find them again.  I always use chestnuts in my Thanksgiving stuffing, but I inevitably buy too many jars, so I’ve become pretty creative at using them up, like my Crispy Chestnut Veal.

But here I have interpreted the sweet, silky flavor of chestnuts into a creamy, lovely soup perfect for the holidays.  It can be a nice, warming hearty dish with some good country bread and a winter salad, but also makes a most elegant starter for a seated holiday dinner.  And if you are of a mind, it would be brilliant served in shot glasses passed around at a swanky cocktail party.

I always buy chestnuts ready-roasted in jars or vacuum-sealed bags, but if you like to buy whole chestnuts and roast and peel them yourself, by all means, go ahead.

Roasted Chestnut Bisque

Marjoram is an amazing complement to chestnuts, but if you can’t find it, substitute thyme.  Don’t skip the marjoram oil, as it really adds the perfect finishing touch.  You could sprinkle some chestnut pieces or small toasted croutons on the bisque as well.

For the Bisque:

1 medium-sized yellow onion

2 carrots

3 celery stalks

1 medium-sized leek

¼ cup olive oil

6 Tablespoon cognac or brandy

4 cups chicken stock

2 (7.4 ounce) jars roasted and peeled chestnuts

6 – 7 sprigs marjoram

1 ½ cups heavy cream

Salt and pepper to taste

Marjoram Oil (see below)

Dice the onion, carrot, celery and leek.  I do this in the food processor pulse just until everything is chopped.  In a large Dutch oven, sauté the vegetables in ¼ cup olive oil over medium-high heat until soft and tender, and the onion and leeks are translucent.  Add the cognac and stir, scraping up and bits from the bottom of the pan, and cook until the cognac is evaporated.  Add the stock, the chestnuts and the marjoram sprigs (count how many so you can take them out later).  Bring to a boil, lower the heat, cover and simmer the soup for 45 minutes.  Leave the soup to cool until it’s safe to put in the blender. Meanwhile, prepare the marjoram oil (see below).

Fish out the marjoram stems, then transfer the soup to a blender in batches and puree until smooth.  After blending each batch, pour the soup through a wire mesh strainer set over a large bowl and push the soup through with a wooden spoon or spatula.  There won’t be much in the way of solids left behind, but straining the soup creates the velvety texture that makes this bisque so elegant. (For an even velvetier texture, you could push the soup through the strainer a second time).  When you have strained all the soup, wipe out the Dutch oven and return the soup to the pot.  At this point, you can cover the soup and refrigerate it for up to two days before completing it.

When ready to serve the soup, heat it gently over medium heat, stirring occasionally, but do not let it boil.  Slowly stir in the cream, incorporating it fully into the soup, then warm through.  Serve immediately drizzled with marjoram oil.

Makes 4 large bowls or 6 small

For the Marjoram Oil:

6 Tablespoons olive oil

4 sprigs marjoram

Heat the olive oil in a small saucepan just until bubbles appear on the surface and the oil is shimmering.  Remove from the heat and leave to cool for two minutes, then drop in the marjoram sprigs, cover the pan and leave to cool.  Strain the cooled oil into a jar or small spouted measuring cup for drizzling on the soup. The oil can be kept in an airtight jar for up to a week.

This post is part of Share Our Strength’s Share Our Holiday Table a virtual, progressive fundraising dinner designed to raise awareness of child hunger in the U.S. during the critical holiday season.  As you enjoy the bounty of the table this season, please think of those who are not so fortunate and donate to Share Our Strength.  And visit the Share Our Holiday Table site to see all the amazing bloggers who are participating and check out their great recipes.

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.

I am told that pimento cheese is a uniquely Southern delicacy, one of the many and diverse foodways for which our region is known.  I did not know this.  Not until about ten years ago, when I read that fact in a magazine.  I, of course, knew about pimento cheese, I just assumed it was universal.  You see, I did not grow up in a pimento cheese family.  My mother was not a great fan, so it did not feature on our lunch or party menus.  As a child, I only ever had the occasional blob of red-spotted techno-orange wallpaper glue on white bread at some friend’s house.  The kind of Pimento Cheese Spread purchased in plastic tubs from that top shelf of the dairy aisle next to the limburger and neon yellow Egg Salad.  That was my experience of pimento cheese, and I had no real interest in exploring its possible virtues.  I also had a childhood adversity to mayonnaise, which in retrospect I cannot fathom.  Ah, the years of wasted youth.

As an adult, I discovered that many people around me have strong opinions on pimento cheese.  Fond childhood memories of Grandma’s homemade pimento cheese (but don’t tell my mother, I liked hers too, but Grandma’s was better…).  I couldn’t help but be curious. Had I really missed something?  Then the showers started to fall in my life – wedding showers, baby showers.  Almost non-stop for a large section of my twenties.   Pimento cheese figures heavily at these events.  It is considered easy to prepare, delicious, and something everyone likes. The “pate of the South.”  So I started to try the little finger sandwiches, or delicate molds of pimento cheese served with crackers, sometimes even celery sticks stuffed with the mix.  And I had a revelation.  It’s good.  Like stupid good.  I became something of an expert.  There were certain ladies who always volunteered to bring “MY pimento cheese” as their contribution to the shower spread, and some who were asked, or begged, to bring their version.  It is quite a point of pride among the lace tablecloth set.

When I launched into the world of party planning , I always counseled my clients, and brides, to build a menu that was personal to them.  To serve a favorite cookies from Aunt Susie’s recipe, pasta to commemorate your first date at the Italian restaurant or pralines to pay homage to a Louisiana family heritage.  It became sort of signature of the events I planned.  I built multi-tiered Krispy Kreme groom’s cakes, served late-night Krystal hamburgers on silver salvers and filled champagne buckets with ice cream sandwiches.  So I always asked – what is a personal favorite food you’d love to serve at your event.  I cannot tell you the number of times pimento cheese was on the list.  So elegant little pimento cheese sandwiches, with the help of a favorite caterer, became a regular fixture and frequent request. At the events I worked, I rarely ate or maybe scarfed down a few appetizers in the kitchen.  A few kind caterer friends would make me a sandwich to be eaten alone on the loading dock.  But I always had room for the pimento cheese.  I did a party in Mississippi about an hour or so outside of Memphis that was a fun, country affair by the river.  We fried catfish and hushpuppies and made little barbecue sandwiches and of course served the pimento cheese delights as a passed hors d’oeuvre.

At the end of the night, my caterer friend sent me home with a tin tray of sandwiches, bless her.  As I drove home through the dark Delta night, well past one in the morning, I snacked on a few of those little sandwiches.  When I got home sore and exhausted, I left everything in the car except that tray.  I took it inside to wrap up the remaining sandwiches to last me through another week of crazy parties.  They were gone.  I’d eaten every one.  This was a roasting pan – like 10” by 8” and three inches deep.  Gone.  In one sitting.  It may have been the best night of my life.

As I set out to develop my own recipe, my aunt (from the non-pimento cheese side of the family mind you) had a health issue.  And, as is always the case, the food from friends in neighbors poured in.  I went to visit (and organize the overloaded fridge) and I found no less than five batches of pimento cheese, each completely unique.  One was clearly made from the processed cheese that comes in a roll, one had hard-boiled eggs in it and one had some sort of small crunchy bits – we couldn’t decide if it was pumpkin seeds or an accidental bird-food spill.  It was helpful, if painful, learning experience.

So now I have done all the work for you.  Below is clearly THE  BEST recipe for pimento cheese.  Clearly the only one worth making EVER. To even consider the folly of veering from this, the ONLY proper way to make pimento cheese, is a monumental mistake. 

It’s quite the happy coincidence that my intials jibe so well…

PC’s Pimento Cheese

Here are my secrets: the key to good pimento cheese is the blend of cheeses. Grinding the walnuts and pimentos adds flavor throughout instead of the occasional bite of pimento.  Too much mayonnaise takes away from the cheesy flavor, but use how much you like.

1 cup walnut halves (or pecans)

1 (2 ounce) jar of chopped pimentos

2 teaspoons garlic salt

dash of cayenne or shot of hot sauce to taste

1 (8 – ounce) block extra sharp cheddar cheese

1 (8 – ounce) block sharp white cheddar cheese

1 cup mayonnaise, more or less

Place the walnuts, pimentos (with their liquid), the garlic salt and cayenne in a food processor with the steel blade and pulse a few times to chop the walnuts and blend the pimentos.  Do not let the mixture turn into a paste.  Remove the steel blade and fit the grating blade.  Grate the cheeses.  Turn the mixture into a bowl, scraping the sides well.    Add the mayonnaise a little at a time and stir to blend to the desired consistency.

 Serve as a filling for sandwiches or with saltine crackers.

This will keep in an airtight container for a week.

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

This year, for the first time, I noticed vendors at the local farmers market selling garlic scapes. Garlic scapes are the greens that shoot off the top of a variety of garlic.  They have a milder, garlicky flavor.  They are long, green, and have a bulbous head at the top.  I had heard of scapes, but never used them and as I am intrigued by anything garlic related, I bought a bunch.  With my first purchase, I made a pesto – just puréed scapes with olive oil, lemon juice and parmesan cheese (I just Googled a recipe).  I used it on pasta, on a pizza and on some toasted bread with a fried egg on top and it was delicious.  I picked up the next round intending to do the same thing, put holding those scapes, feeling the woody ends and craving Asian food, I figured maybe I could whip up something special and unique.  And I must say I was inordinately pleased with myself.

Garlic Scape Beef Satay Skewers

You could easily use chicken with these skewers, but the cooking time will obviously be shorter.

1 bunch garlic scapes (about 6 scapes)

½ inch piece of fresh ginger, peeled

Juice of one lime

Handful of cilantro leaves

About 10 mint leaves

A few Thai basil leaves (optional)

¼ cup soy sauce

3 Tablespoons sesame oil

1 pound beef round, cut into equal-sized chunks

Make scape skewers by cutting the woody ends off of six scapes.  Cut the ends into sharp points. Set aside.

Cut three of the scape top pieces (about 8 inches) and the ginger into small pieces and drop in a blender. Add the lime juice, cilantro, mint and basil leaves and the soy sauce.  Blend until a paste forms – the scapes are woody, so this takes a little work and scraping down of the sides of the blender.  With the blender running, drizzle in the sesame oil and blend until smooth.  Pour the marinade into a ziptop bag and add the beef cubes.  Seal the bag and shake everything around to coat the beef.  Refrigerate for several hours, turning once or twice.

When ready to cook, heat the grill or a grill pan to high heat.  Thread the beef onto the scape skewers.  If needed, you can cut a small slit in each beef chunk to slide the skewer through.  Grill the skewers until the beef is cooked through, about 10 minutes

Garlic Scape Satay Sauce

3  (8-inch pieces) of garlic scape

1 1/2 cups creamy peanut butter

1/2 cup coconut milk

3 tablespoons water

3 tablespoons fresh lime juice

3 tablespoons soy sauce

1 tablespoon fish sauce

1 tablespoon hot sauce

1 tablespoon minced fresh ginger root

3 cloves garlic, minced

1/4 cup chopped fresh cilantro

Cut the scapes into small pieces and add to the blender with all the ingredients.  Blend until smooth.  Serve with Garlic Scape Beef Satay Skewers.

 Makes 6 skewers