Last week, when I stepped out to get the mail, I found a box from Amazon leaning against the door. A box from Amazon can only mean that someone has ordered a book, but I didn't recall placing an order. I ripped into the box and found The Lee Bros. Southern Cookbook, 589 pages of traditional Southern cooking and food talk. It was a gift from my sister who saw it and thought of me.
As is customary when I get a new cookbook, I thumbed through the pages and dogeared the recipes that interested me. Here are a few of the pages I have dogeared for later:
Country Ham Biscuits
Pimento Cheese
Blue Cheese Grits
Jambalaya
Crispy Fried Okra
Gumbo
Fried Chicken
Barbecued Picnic Shoulder
Sweet Potato Pie
These are just a few things I remember from my childhood. I was raised in northwest Indiana amidst bologna and cheese on white bread, but because my parents were from Alabama, my childhood memories revolve around food from a different region, and in some cases from a different era--the cornbread baked in crusty old iron skillets, the fried shrimp and oysters, the coconut cakes, the fried corn, the dilled pickles, the hot biscuits that melt in your mouth, the black eyed peas, the chess pie, the barbecue with cole slaw.
When I opened up my new cook book and saw recipes and stories for all of these dishes, my heart went back to those years of wonder when everything was served hot and fresh, and when the aunts and uncles and cousins and grandparents, all with those soothing accents that used more vowels than I thought necessary, would stand around and praise the cooks. "Woo-eee, Mama, you shore outdid yourself this time. mmm mmm."
My father brought the joy of this food up north with us, and from time to time, he would get a hankering for pimento and cheese. It's a mixture of grated cheese and pimentos with a bit of a bite from some hot sauce, and you mix it all up in a big bowl. It doesn't look pretty, but spread between a couple of pieces of toast on a cold Sunday evening, it really hits the spot. I have missed pimento and cheese and haven't seen it sold or served north of the Mason-Dixon line. Now, I have my own recipe, and I can make it any time I get that hankering, the kind my father acted on when I was a kid.
Here, you can have it, too, courtesy of the Lee Brothers.
Pimento and Cheese
1 red bell pepper (or use jarred pimento)
8 oz. finely grated extra-sharp cheddar cheese
2 oz. softened cream cheese, cut into pieces
3 tablespoons mayonnaise
1 teaspoon crushed red pepper flakes
Broil the red pepper until blackened on all sides. Place in a small bowl and cover to steam for 5 minutes. When the pepper is cool enough to handle, remove the skin. Remove the stem and seeds and chop the pepper into 1/4-inch dice, about 1/2 cup.
Mix the diced pepper with the remaining ingredients in a medium bowl and mix well with a wooden spoon. Store tightly in the refrigerator for up to a week.
As is customary when I get a new cookbook, I thumbed through the pages and dogeared the recipes that interested me. Here are a few of the pages I have dogeared for later:
Country Ham Biscuits
Pimento Cheese
Blue Cheese Grits
Jambalaya
Crispy Fried Okra
Gumbo
Fried Chicken
Barbecued Picnic Shoulder
Sweet Potato Pie
These are just a few things I remember from my childhood. I was raised in northwest Indiana amidst bologna and cheese on white bread, but because my parents were from Alabama, my childhood memories revolve around food from a different region, and in some cases from a different era--the cornbread baked in crusty old iron skillets, the fried shrimp and oysters, the coconut cakes, the fried corn, the dilled pickles, the hot biscuits that melt in your mouth, the black eyed peas, the chess pie, the barbecue with cole slaw.
When I opened up my new cook book and saw recipes and stories for all of these dishes, my heart went back to those years of wonder when everything was served hot and fresh, and when the aunts and uncles and cousins and grandparents, all with those soothing accents that used more vowels than I thought necessary, would stand around and praise the cooks. "Woo-eee, Mama, you shore outdid yourself this time. mmm mmm."
My father brought the joy of this food up north with us, and from time to time, he would get a hankering for pimento and cheese. It's a mixture of grated cheese and pimentos with a bit of a bite from some hot sauce, and you mix it all up in a big bowl. It doesn't look pretty, but spread between a couple of pieces of toast on a cold Sunday evening, it really hits the spot. I have missed pimento and cheese and haven't seen it sold or served north of the Mason-Dixon line. Now, I have my own recipe, and I can make it any time I get that hankering, the kind my father acted on when I was a kid.
Here, you can have it, too, courtesy of the Lee Brothers.
Pimento and Cheese
1 red bell pepper (or use jarred pimento)
8 oz. finely grated extra-sharp cheddar cheese
2 oz. softened cream cheese, cut into pieces
3 tablespoons mayonnaise
1 teaspoon crushed red pepper flakes
Broil the red pepper until blackened on all sides. Place in a small bowl and cover to steam for 5 minutes. When the pepper is cool enough to handle, remove the skin. Remove the stem and seeds and chop the pepper into 1/4-inch dice, about 1/2 cup.
Mix the diced pepper with the remaining ingredients in a medium bowl and mix well with a wooden spoon. Store tightly in the refrigerator for up to a week.
Comments
Again …
I love the sound of this so much I just tried to order a copy from Amazon uk but it didn't recognise it.
Could you save me from my ravening tastebuds and let me know the ISBN number so I can get a copy imported?
Your sister sounds very thoughtful, Robyn. I'm the "giver" in my family so I never get surprises like that but I do mail-order many books from Reader's Digest so when they come in the mailbox it is always a thrill too.
Mme Benaut, what a wonderful story. We had a small grape arbor in the yard so my father could make bad wine in the basement, but no one else around ever grew fruit. Not much more than apples were grown there--lots of orchards and cider.