Pilgrimage Part II


In a non-descript building, on U.S. 411 outside of Madisonville Tennessee, in the foothills of the Smokey Mountains, sits a little smokehouse. Over the past few years it has become the porcine capital of the known universe. It is a place I have wanted to visit for a long time. Last week I made my pilgrimage.

Do you know the feeling of “let down” when you’ve anticipated something all of your life, or looked forward to visiting a person or place and once you finally got there, or met the person, it— or they— didn’t quite live up to your long-time romanticized expectations? A young boy worships a pro athlete during his youth and meets him later in life to find him rude and obnoxious. The idolized rock musician is nothing more than a hack in person. Dorothy and the Scarecrow met the Wizard and he’s a charlatan behind a curtain. Well, that didn’t happen, far from it.

Allan Benton and his smokehouse operation were everything I expected and more. The man-behind-the-curtain was the real deal. The visit was a culinary field trip of the first order.

Benton grew up poor. So poor he didn’t even know what “poor” was. His family lived in the mountains of rural Virginia without running water, electricity, or indoor plumbing. Smoking and curing meats was a way of survival. Necessity is the mother of perfection. Benton now produces the country’s best bacon, the Holy Grail of pork.

With a Mater’s Degree in psychology, Benton taught high school before becoming a master of cured meats. During our visit, he was humble and knowledgeable. I don’t know if I have ever met anyone in the food industry who is as passionate about his work as is Benton.

Benton gave my wife and I a guided tour of his operation. He cures and smokes bacon, hams, and prosciutto which he ships to fine restaurants and food lovers from New York to Napa.

Benton also makes sausage. But he can’t ship the sausage. I have wanted to try his smoked sausage and hot sausage for the last two years. While I was there, I loaded up on sausage and kept it iced down for the next six days while on the road. It currently sits in my freezer in a place of reverence waiting for the next special occasion breakfast.



Bacon and ham are what put Benton on the foodie map. He smokes and cures bacon as our ancestors did 200 years ago. The end result tastes the way bacon is supposed to taste.

Mass produced commercial bacon is injected with a chemical brine in a packing house, quick-smoked in a smoke room, and— 24 hours later— packaged and shipped. It’s quick, it’s easy, it’s profitable, and the result tastes nothing like bacon did years ago.

The Allan Benton process for curing and smoking bacon takes time— at least five weeks. Benton explained the bacon curing process as he walked us through the operation. First he mixes together a blend of salt, pepper, and brown sugar, rubs the pork bellies and stacks them in a 38-degree cooler for two weeks. The dry rub recipe is one passed down from his grandfather. Next he transfers the bellies to another cooler where they hang in a 45-degree environment for a week and a half, then to an aging room for another two weeks.



Once the bacon leaves the aging room, it is transferred to a smokehouse. The smokehouse is a simple 10-foot by 15-foot structure located behind the main building. As Benton opened the door, a thick cloud of hickory and apple-wood smoke billowed out.

I was amazed by the size of the stove that generates all of the smoke for Benton’s meats. It was about three-feet tall, one-foot wide, and well used. The smokehouse is in operation 24 hours a day, seven days a week, 365 days a year. Even on his one day off, Benton visits the smokehouse several times a day to add a log or two to the wood-burning stove.

I loaded up on bacon, ham, prosciutto, and sausage, and as soon as I got home I put some bacon in the skillet.

Cooking cured bacon is much different than regular store-bought bacon. I overcooked the first two batches I prepared when I ordered Benton’s bacon several years ago. Curing removes moisture, so during the frying process, lower heat must be used to cook the bacon, and one must remove the bacon from the pan earlier than when cooking store-bought bacon. It might not look cooked, but it is, and it is very, very, very good.

Over the years I have travelled from coast to coast meeting and eating with some of the kings of the culinary world. Some of the meetings were good and some were let downs. This time the man behind the curtain surpassed my expectations.

Save the emails and phone calls, http://www.bentonshams.com/ 423-442-5003.














Barbara Jane’s Bacon and Tomato Sandwiches

2 cups Homemade Mayonnaise (or top quality store bought)
1 /2 cup Sour Cream
2 Tablespoons Bacon grease, reserved from cooked bacon
6 Green Onions, minced
1 (12 oz.) package Bacon, cooked, chopped fine
1 package (2 loaves) Pepperidge Farms Hot & Crispy bread
5 -6 Roma Tomatoes, sliced (8-10 slices per tomato depending on size)
Salt and Pepper to taste
Fresh parsley or basil, finely chopped

Combine mayonnaise, sour cream and melted bacon grease, onion, and chopped bacon and stir well.

Slice bread into 25-30 rounds per loaf. Spread mayonnaise onto bread rounds, top with a tomato slice, sprinkle with salt and pepper.

These can be made one day ahead. Arrange sandwiches on a cookie sheet in a single layer and cover well with plastic wrap. Refrigerate. If holding, wait to season sandwiches with salt and pepper until just before serving.

Sprinkle lightly with parsley or basil just before serving.

Pilgrimages


Pilgrimages are typically once-in-a-lifetime events. If one is lucky he or
she might get to make two or three pilgrimages over the course of their
life.

People from all over the world take religious pilgrimages to Israel, Mecca,
the Vatican, or Nepal. Golfers live to go to where it all began- St. Andrews
in Scotland. Others would take out a second mortgage just to attend one of
the earlier rounds of The Masters in Augusta.

Football fanatics take pilgrimages to their shrine, The National Football
League Hall of Fame in Canton, Ohio. Baseball groupies journey to
Cooperstown, New York to view stats and memorabilia on every major league
stand-out since the formation of the league (except Pete Rose).

I stopped playing football when I graduated high school. Baseball bores me.
I don't play golf, and I have no interest in going to Nepal. I eat.

For me, eating is a sport and at times it can be a religious experience. I
take pilgrimages to individual out-of-the-way restaurants and to great
restaurant cities. I love food. I eat for a living. It is what I do.

Over the past several years I have covered a lot of foodie ground between
the two coasts. From Per Se and Aureole in New York to The French Laundry
and Gary Danko in California. I take several culinary pilgrimages into New
Orleans each month, and I have hole-in-the-wall diners tucked away in every
small town in the South.

But there is one elusive destination that I have wanted to visit
for the last three years. It's not a white-tablecloth institution, a
legendary neighborhood joint, or a longstanding out-of-the-way café. It's
not even a restaurant. It is a smokehouse.

Allan Benton has been curing hams, bacon, and prosciutto in Madisonville, Tenn. for 33 years.
Madisonville is located a few miles off of I-75 between Chattanooga and
Knoxville and I will be driving through that area tomorrow. Benton has promised to give me a tour of his facility and I feel like a kid on Christmas Eve.

I am convinced that when God invented bacon, he wanted it to taste like Benton's. Allan Benton smokes meats using methods passed down from generations of Smoky Mountain smokers. His process takes over six weeks, that compared to 24 hours in large commercial plants.

I wrote about Benton's bacon a few years ago, and I still receive emails and talk to people at book signings or speeches who have become raving fans of Benton's bacon. 

The product sells itself. Actually, it sells too well. Benton has done such a great job smoking and curing meats, he has all of the business he can stand. He is playing a constant game of catch-up. If you place an order today it will be weeks before it arrives. Gourmet food retailer, Williams-Sonoma, with stores all over the country, tried to add Benton's products to their lineup, but Benton told them, "thanks, but no thanks." It's truly Chuck Williams' loss.

You can have Cooperstown, and St. Andrews. Give me a real smokehouse in Tennessee. Tomorrow, I'll make the pilgrimage and get the grand tour.  

Next week: Details from the tour of Benton's Smokey Mountain Country Hams

Note: Save the emails and the phone calls, here's the info: Benton's Smoky Mountain Country Hams: 423-442-5003 www.bentonshams.com .

Pork Tenderloin Wrapped in Bacon

1 cup apple juice
1 Tbl balsamic vinegar
1 bay leaf
2 Tbl brown sugar
1/8 tsp cinnamon
1/4 tsp fresh ground black pepper
1 tsp kosher salt

2 whole pork tenderloins, cleaned and trimmed
8-10 slices thin cut bacon

Combine the apple juice, vinegar, bay leaf, brown sugar, cinnamon, pepper
and salt in a small sauce pot and heat just long enough to melt the sugar.
Allow to cool.

Place the tenderloins in a zip lock bag and pour the cooled marinade over
the pork. Close the bag and marinate the pork 2-3 hours, turning several
times to ensure that all surfaces are covered.

Remove the pork from the marinade and pat dry. Starting at one end of the
tenderloin, firmly wrap the bacon around the meat in a spiral direction,
making sure to cover all surface areas of the pork.

Prepare the grill. Sear the pork for 8 minutes over medium-direct heat,
turning it one-quarter turn every 2-3 minutes. Continue cooking with medium
indirect heat until the pork reaches an internal temperature of 165 degrees,
approximately 15-20 minutes.
Remove the pork from the grill and let rest 5 minutes. Slice the pork on a
slight angle into one-inch thick slices and serve with Blackberry Chutney


Blackberry Chutney

1 cup shallot, chopped fine
1 cup onion, medium dice
1 Tbl unsalted butter
2 cups Blackberries
1 /4  cup sugar
1 /2 cup blackberry preserves
2 tablespoon cider vinegar
1 Tbl cracked black pepper
1 Tbl ginger, minced
1 cinnamon stick
1 /2 tsp creole seasoning

In a 1 1 /2-quart heavy-duty saucepan, cook shallot and onion in butter over
moderate heat, stirring occasionally, until golden, 3 to 5 minutes. Stir in
remaining ingredients and simmer, uncovered, stirring occasionally, until
berries burst and chutney is thickened, approximately 20 minutes. Strain
through a fine mesh sieve to remove seeds.

Cool to room temperature.

Note: Chutney can be made 1 week ahead and chilled, covered

Yield: 2 cups

Shrimp Season 2008


Mississippi’s shrimp season is open.

I was eating oatmeal in my breakfast room watching WLOX’s morning show when the opening-day announcement was made. The television station cut to their on-location camera covering the waters of the Gulf of Mexico and there was one shrimp boat on the water. One boat.

I can remember sitting in the same spot 10 years ago, watching that station’s coverage of the opening day of shrimp season. There were hundreds of boats in the water. As the sun rose near Ocean Springs, boats were criss-crossing the Gulf, lines out, nets down, dragging the Gulf for the single most popular seafood offering in the world.

The history of Mississippi shrimping is rich and storied. Fourth generation Biloxi fishing families, Croatian immigrants and Vietnamese refugees have shouldered the load for us. Shrimping has always been a family business. In 1900 Biloxi was labeled “The Seafood Capital of the World.” Today we have one shrimp boat making news on opening day.

With 2,000-gallon fuel tanks, $4 per gallon gas, and processor’s pricing challenges caught in the middle, we are headed into uncharted waters. The Mississippi Gulf Coast was built on the scarred and calloused fingers of its oyster shuckers and shrimp pickers, and on the backs of its shrimp boat captains. They all seem to be going the way of the buggy whip and moving inland.

Hurricane Katrina wiped out many of the local shrimpers and it seems that Middle East oil prices are working on the rest. We have lost more than 50% of our working shrimp boats since Katrina. Something has to be done, but I’m afraid that I don’t know the answer. I’m not sure if anyone does.

Shrimp is the number one seafood in America. Oysters are more controversial, complex, and complicated, and crabmeat is more delicate and formal, but shrimp are universal. Local shrimpers might be one of the most underappreciated working groups in the country.

Last May a photographer and I travelled to Biloxi to photograph the shrimp fleet. The boats were all docked. At the time gas was $3 per gallon. A few were selling shrimp off of the back of their boats, but most boats seemed abandoned.

A Vietnamese woman in a straw hat and her two daughters were icing down shrimp on the back of their boat. The woman seemed to be in her late 50s, her daughters in their mid 20s. The mother was unloading ice from her pickup truck, loading it into yellow plastic laundry baskets, and then filling large ice chests on the boat. She was lifting amounts that I would’ve had trouble handling. I offered to help, but she didn’t speak English, her daughters said, “No thank you.”

For the 30-45 minutes we spent shooting in and around the dock, the woman was steadily shoveling ice and loading ice chests. She never stopped. She never looked up, and she never once complained, or even hinted at an expression that demonstrated complaint.

The daughters were smiling and joking with each other. Their mother’s face was focused and determined on the task at hand. Here was a woman who had probably dealt with untold controversy before she came to this country, and was steadily enduring life’s daily blows with her family in today’s local seafood industry. The look in her eyes was pure determination and focus— a mother’s mission to endure.

At the time, I talked to my photographer friend about the woman’s work ethic and focus. It was remarkable.

A year has past. As I sit here today, I wonder if the woman and her family will survive today’s economic challenges and the untold trials that lay ahead. If I were a betting man, my money would be on her. I’ve seen the look in her eyes.

What will become of the independent, family shrimper? I wish I had the answer.

Old Bay Grilled Shrimp with Creole Beurre Rouge

When grilling shrimp, either skewer them or use a grill screen so they don’t fall through the grates.

36 Large shrimp, peeled and deviened
1/2 cup No-Stick Grilling Marinade for Shrimp (recipe in New South Grilling)
2 tsp Old Bay seasoning
1 Tbl black pepper, freshly ground
1 Recipe Creole Buerre Rouge (recipe below)

Using a pastry brush, coat the shrimp evenly with the marinade. Allow shrimp to marinate for 20 minutes. Sprinkle the shrimp with the old bay seasoning and black pepper.

Prepare the grill. Place a grill screen on top of the grill and preheat. Place the shrimp on the grate over direct high heat and cook for 6-8 minutes, turning once.
Place the cooked shrimp on a bed of dirty rice and top with the Creole beurre rouge

Yield:
6 servings

Dirty Rice

1 Tbl bacon fat (or canola oil)
2 oz ground beef
2 oz ground pork
1 /2 cup diced onion
1 /4 cup diced celery
1 /4 cup diced bell pepper
2 tsp minced garlic
1 bay leaves
1 Tbl poultry seasoning
1 tsp dry mustard
1 cup rice
2 cups pork stock, hot

Heat the bacon fat in a 1-quart sauce pot over high heat. Add the ground beef and pork and brown. Stir in the vegetables and garlic and continue to cook 5-6 minutes. Stir in the seasoning and rice and cook until the rice is thoroughly heated. Stir in the pork stock and reduce heat to low. Cover the sauce pot and cook 18 minutes.

Yield: 3 cups


Creole Buerre Rouge

1 Tbl Olive Oil2 Tbl Green Pepper, small dice 1 /4 cup Yellow Onion, small dice 1 Tbl Garlic, minced 1 /4 cup Celery, small dice 2 tsp Creole Seasoning 1 1/2 cup Tomatoes, medium dice
1 cup White Wine1 cups Chicken Stock
2 Tbl White Vinegar1 Bay Leaf 1 tsp Dried Oregano
1 Tbl Fresh Thyme, chopped
1 tsp Black Pepper, freshly ground
1 cup Unsalted Butter, cubed and kept cold until needed

In a medium sauce pot, heat olive oil over medium-high heat. Sauté peppers, onion, garlic, celery, and Creole seasoning for five minutes. Add tomatoes and cook five minutes longer. Add wine and reduce by half. Add chicken stock, vinegar, bay leaf and oregano and simmer 15-20 minutes, until the sauce turns into a thick paste.

Lower the heat, and using a wire whisk, begin incorporating the butter cubes, 2-3 at a time. Stir constantly to prevent the sauce from separating. Once all butter is added, stir in the black pepper and remove from the heat.

Store in a warm place (120 degrees) until needed.

Yield 6-8 servings



.

What A Wonderful World



What a difference a few years make.

When my daughter was born— 11 years ago— my wife and I never slowed down. We ate in the same restaurants, visited the same hotels, and flew the same airlines. Other than getting to move to the front of the line when flying Southwest, our travel plans were never altered.

Our daughter was the perfect restaurant customer. At 6-months old she ate a meal at Commander’s Palace in New Orleans. She never made a peep. She was neat, well-mannered, and polite, never dropping a morsel. The floor around her was as clean as her cheeks. She was the perfect restaurant customer.

My wife and I spent countless hours patting ourselves on the back in those days. We had obviously mastered this whole parenting thing. While dining in restaurants, we would watch other children running around the dining room, screaming, throwing food, and being all-around bad restaurant patrons. We would turn to our daughter and think to ourselves: If only those parents could talk to us, we would tell them how it’s done. Look at our child. See how well behaved she is. We are masters of parenting. As a matter of fact, I wouldn’t be surprised if someday soon someone asks us to write the definitive guide to parenting, and what a breeze that would be.

And then our son was born and we learned that we had nothing to do with the good nature and refinement of our daughter. It had been the luck of the draw. The second time we shuffled the deck, we drew a joker.

My son was not a good restaurant customer. Actually, we only went out to dinner a few times in his early years. We had suddenly become the parents with the rowdy child terrorizing the dining room. We would see other parents— parents with only one well-behaved child— looking at us the way we used to look at other people. We knew the look. It said: You poor, poor people. If only you would talk to us. We could give you all of our parenting secrets.

I wanted to tell them where they could put their secrets, but I was too busy trying to stop my son from swinging on the light fixtures. He had good intentions. He was not mean, or rude, or hurtful, just full of energy and volume.

Fast forward six years. My daughter is 11-years old, my son is seven. The two of them, and their mother took me to Commander’s Palace for Father’s Day brunch. It was a great experience. Other than jumping up once to swat a fly on the window sill with his napkin, my son was perfectly behaved. My daughter, who is 11 going on 40, was her usual well-mannered self. I thought: We have finally arrived.

Two tables over, in the middle of the room, was a young couple with a baby. The baby was loud. He was just being a baby. The parents were obviously embarrassed. The father was looking around the room, giving the universal sign of helplessness— the shrug of the shoulders and a humiliated grin.

Midway through the third course, my eyes met the eyes of the screaming baby’s father. He gave me a look that said: I’m sorry. I knew the look. I had lived with that look for several years. I shrugged and mouthed the words, “It’s O.K.” I don’t think he believed me, but I know that he’ll get through it. Things will get better. There are brighter days ahead.

I then turned my attention back to my family. My son was dipping his spoon into his bread pudding soufflé; my daughter was tasting her mother’s coffee. The jazz band had drowned out the screaming six-month old with a wandering three-piece version of a Louis Armstrong classic.

I hear babies cry, I watch them grow.
They’ll learn more than I’ll ever know.
And I say to myself, what a wonderful world.

It truly is.


Grilled Bananas Foster

6 ripe bananas
1/3 cup + 2 Tbl unsalted butter, divided
1 cup + 2 Tbl brown sugar
3/4 tsp cinnamon
Pinch of nutmeg
1 cup dark rum
vanilla bean custard ice cream


Peel the bananas and cut in half lengthwise. Melt 2 Tablespoons of the butter.
Brush the bananas with the melted butter and sprinkle them with 2 tablespoons of brown sugar.

Prepare the grill. Cook bananas over direct high heat 3-4 minutes, turning once. Remove bananas from the grill and hold. The bananas should be just warm. Do not overcook.

Melt the remaining butter in a large skillet over medium heat. Do not let the butter brown. Add brown sugar, cinnamon, and nutmeg, and cook until the sugar dissolves, stirring constantly. Do not let this mixture get too dark.

Add rum and gently move the pan around to warm the rum, causing it to flame (Use a lighter if you are cooking on an electric stove). Continue cooking until the flame dies out. Add the grilled bananas to the hot rum mixture, and cook 2-3 minutes more.

To serve, place a large scoop of vanilla ice cream onto 6 serving dishes. Place two banana halves over the ice cream and drizzle with some of the sauce.

Yield: 6 servings

The Meat Parade



For years I have been hearing about Brazilian steakhouses.

I have received several emails and had many discussions with numerous friends and acquaintances about the merits of restaurants that parades protein around the dining room on large metal sticks. “They’re great,” my friends say. “They come to your table with huge skewers of meat, carve it, and fill your plate. It’s a blast.”

My gym trainer goes all of the time. He’s been singing the praises of the all-one-can-eat meat extravaganza for months, but he weighs 300 pounds and could eat an entire baby calf for breakfast.

People wearing puffy pants carving meat tableside always seemed gimmicky to me. In my experience, restaurants that resort to gimmickry are lacking in other areas. Nevertheless, I added it to my to-do list and planned to visit a Brazilian steakhouse, soon.

Last week, my family and I were on the Gulf Coast, so I decided to try the much-lauded, Carnaval de Brasil, at the Imperial Palace casino in Biloxi.

The restaurant is located at the entrance just across from the hotel’s front desk. It is decorated in a tastefully festive manner and the main centerpiece of the room is an impressive salad bar.

People who know me know that I hate salad bars. The salad bar at the Carnaval de Brasil is not your everyday, ordinary, run-of-the-mill salad bar. It offered couscous, roasted asparagus, marinated and grilled portobello mushrooms, several upscale soups, and many other not-so-typical salad options.

Once seated, we were given the general run-down by our server. We were told that the small round cards at our place settings were the key to the game. When the card was flipped to green, the gauchos would come by our table and offer their skewered meat selections. Once we turned the card to red, we would be left alone.

We finished our salads, turned our cards over to green, and the meat onslaught began. Within seconds a skewer-wielding gaucho approached our table with a large sirloin steak seasoned with garlic and sea salt. He carved a small slice, let it dangle from the loin, and gave me a pleasant smile. I looked at him puzzled and wondered how the dangling meat was going to get from the skewered loin to my plate. He looked back, said nothing, and smiled. I looked back, puzzled.

He said, “Does that look good sir?”
I said, “That looks fine,” and still wondered how the meat was going to make it to my plate.

He looked at me, I looked back at him. After several more awkward seconds he nodded towards my bread and butter plate and said, “The tongs, sir.”

“Oh.” I said, and grabbed the small pair of tongs and used them to hold the dangling piece of sirloin while he cut the remaining sliver. “I’ve got it now,” I said.

Every Gaucho in the room must have heard that last statement because within seconds we were attacked on all sides by men brandishing large skewers of meat. One came with chicken wrapped in bacon, another with filet mignon wrapped in bacon. As I tried to take a bite of my sirloin another showed up with a pork loin, and then another with a turkey breast, and then Brazilian sausage, and then some other type of sausage. It was an all-out meat assault— an Atkins dieters paradise.

My plate was filling up quickly as our server stopped by and reminded us about flipping the card over. In all of the excitement we had forgotten about the card, and within five flank-filled minutes we had run out of room on our plates. We flipped our cards to red and settled in to the pace of the place.

During our break from the action, another server dropped by with a large bowl of garlic-mashed potatoes, greens, and fried plantains. Once we caught our breath, we flipped our cards back to green. Within seconds we received roasted leg of lamb and grilled pineapple. The Gauchos kept coming, this time with skewered fish, turkey, and dry-rubbed ribs.

My seven-year old son looked up from his plate and said, “How do Brazilians eat all of this?”

The food was good. The lamb and skewered pineapple were excellent and highlights of the meal. I am not a fan of meats wrapped in bacon, so I only nibbled at those.

The service was the best I have witnessed on the coast, post-Katrina. We arrived just as the restaurant opened for dinner and it was not crowded. I don’t know if that factored into our experience, but the servers were knowledgeable, hospitable, and overly prompt nonetheless.

The Carnaval de Brasil is fun. I will certainly return, though next time I’ll skip lunch.




Key Lime Grilled Shrimp with Pecan-Spiked Rice

For this recipe you need the zest and juice from Key Limes. Use the fine-cut side of a cheese grater to remove the zest from the limes before juicing them.

36 Large Shrimp, peeled, deveined
1/4 cup No-Stick Grilling Marinade for Seafood (found in New South Grilling)
2 Tbl Honey
1 tsp Key Lime Zest
2 tsp Kosher Salt
1/2 tsp Black Pepper, freshly ground.

Place the shrimp in a mixing bowl and add the marinade, honey and lime zest. Marinate for one hour before grilling. Place a grill screen over direct-high heat. Once the grill screen is preheated, sprinkle the shrimp with the salt and pepper and grill for 6-8 minutes, turning once while cooking.


Key Lime Beurre Blanc

2/3 cup White Wine
1 Tbl White Vinegar
1/3 cup Fresh Key Lime Juice
1/4 cup shallots, finely chopped
1 tspl garlic, minced
1/4 cup whipping cream
1 pound unsalted butter, cut into small cubes, then chilled
1 teaspoon Kosher Salt
1 tsp Key Lime Zest
1 Tbl Fresh Chives, chopped

In a small saucepan over medium heat, reduce wine, vinegar, lime juice, shallots, and garlic. When almost all liquid has evaporated, add cream. Reduce cream by half. Reduce heat slightly and incorporate the butter adding a few pieces at a time. Stir constantly using a wire whisk until butter is completely melted. Remove from heat. Strain the sauce and add the lime zest and salt. Hold in a warm place until needed. Stir in the fresh chopped chives just before serving.


Pecan Spiked Rice

2 Tbl Unsalted Butter
1/2 cup Yellow Onion, small dice
1/4 cup Shallot, minced
1 tsp Kosher Salt
1 Bay Leaf
1 cup White Rice
2 cups Chicken Broth, hot
1/4 tsp Black Pepper, freshly ground
1 cup Pecan Pieces, chopped and toasted

Melt butter over medium heat in a 1 1/2 quart sauce pot. Add onion, shallot, salt, and bay leaf and cook 4-5 minutes, stirring often to prevent browning. Add the rice and continue to cook until the grains of rice are thoroughly heated. Stir in the chicken broth and black pepper and bring the broth to a simmer. Lower the heat and cover the rice Cook 18-20 minutes, until all liquid is absorbed. Stir in toasted pecans.

To serve, place the rice on serving dishes. Top the rice with 6 shrimp and ladle the sauce over the shrimp.

Yield: 6 servings

Mexican Cuisine


Mexican is my favorite ethnic cuisine.

I have vacillated through the years. As a kid, I was into Italian (if you can call spaghetti, lasagna, and pepperoni pizza Italian— and actually, you can’t). In college I was fond of Chinese food, which seemed very exotic at the time. I still like Chinese, but it’s hard to find a good Chinese restaurant in the area. Most have grown into nothing more than homogenized, all-you-can-eat buffet food troughs serving the same canned sauces as the next guy. They pale in comparison to the real thing.

When I started cooking professionally, I dove headfirst into the Larousse Gastronomique and French cooking became my cuisine of choice. French cooking begat Creole cooking and when I opened a New Orleans-themed restaurant in 1990, I was all about Creole. I had been eating the Creole dishes served in New Orleans since childhood so that cuisine was not a stretch.

When the rest of the country was tuning into Southwestern and Tex-Mex in the early 1990s, I was too. I still love the flavors of the American Southwest.

Several years ago I discovered Nobu restaurant in New York and fell quickly in love with Japanese cuisine. Local Japanese restaurants, unlike their Chinese cousins, haven’t become homogenized. There are several top-notch Japanese restaurants in my hometown and throughout the South. Other than the same canned squid salad, and the same canned seaweed salad, the items offered and preparations used are very different.

Through it all, I always go back to Mexican. Granted, it’s often hard to find Mexican restaurants that stand out from the crowd. They, too, can be like Chinese buffets in that recipes rarely vary from restaurant to restaurant. It seems that there is a lot of movement of employees, managers, and cooks between various Mexican-themed restaurants. Often the recipes are similar in many restaurants in a market.

But when one finds their favorite— the Mexican restaurant that stands above all others— it can be a beautiful thing.

Two years ago I found a small Mexican restaurant located in the back of a Mexican convenience store. It is great. The menu is written in Spanish, all of the employees and customers speak Spanish, and the owners don’t seem the least bit concerned about serving any non-Spanish speaking Americans. I love that. It’s the real deal.

My secret Mexican restaurant makes guacamole tableside using a mortar and pestle, just as it should be done. There are several exotic meats offered in their tacos. And there’s no sign of the typical Americanized Mexican menu staples anywhere.

I eat at this restaurant with a few select friends who have asked me not to mention the name or location for fear that the tiny four-table, six-stool restaurant might become too crowded. I’ll say this, if you want real Mexican food, go where the Hispanic migrant workers shop for products sent from home.

I was in Chicago recently and ate two of my five available meals at Rick Bayless’ Frontera Grill. For those who love Mexican food, Frontera Grill is the American Mecca. Bayless knows more about Mexican food, Mexican ingredients, and Mexican culinary customs than 99% of the chefs in Mexico. He is truly a student of the cuisine.

I sent one of my chefs at the Purple Parrot Café on a Viking Life field trip with Bayless a few years ago and she came back a changed woman. Bayless has always struck me as more of a chemist or historian, but make no mistake, this man is functioning on a higher level than anyone in the country when it comes to Mexican cuisine.

Some restaurants don’t live up to their advance billing. I yearned to eat at Coyote Café in Santa Fe for 15 years before I ever dined there. It was a disappointment. Frontera Grill, on the other hand, surpassed my expectations. It stands to this day as the restaurant that has served me the best tortilla soup I have ever tasted. Local mortar-and-pestle convenience-store properties included, the Frontera Grill serves the best guacamole I’ve ever eaten. At a recent Frontera Grill brunch, I drank the best orange juice I have ever tasted using Mexican oranges with a slight red tint that had been flown in from northern Mexico. Frontera’s ceviche was also outstanding.

I only travel to Chicago once a year, but my secret local Mexican joint in the back of the convenience store will be just fine until I return. Find it if you can.



Grilled Shrimp Tacos with Fresh Fruit Pico di Gallo and Jalapeño and Roasted Garlic Crème Fraiche


For best results and ease of preparation, use a grill screen when cooking the shrimp.

1/3 cup no-stick grilling marinade for shrimp (found in New South Grilling)
1/3 cup pineapple juice
2 tsp kosher salt
1 tsp fresh ground black pepper
1 tsp ground cumin
1 tsp chili powder
54 large shrimp, large (21-25 count), peeled and deveined

18 corn tortillas
1 1/2 cups green leaf lettuce, shredded
1 1/2 cups red cabbage, shredded
1 1/2 cups green cabbage, shredded

Prepare grill for direct high heat cooking.

In a large mixing bowl, mix the shrimp marinade and pineapple juice. Place shrimp in the bowl and toss with the marinade, coating well. Marinate for 30 minutes.

Combine the salt, cumin, coriander and chili powder and sprinkle on shrimp.

Prepare the grill. Place the grill screen on the grill and allow to get hot. Spread shrimp evenly over the screen and cook 6-8 minutes, turning once.

Wrap the tortillas in aluminum foil in groups of three. Warm the foil packages on the grill 4-5 minutes, turning once.

Combine the shredded lettuce and cabbages.

To serve, give each person a package of tortillas. Place 3 shrimp in each tortilla and fill
with shredded cabbage mixture. Add salsa and roasted-garlic crème fraiche to taste.


Fresh Fruit Pico di Gallo

1 cup tomatoes, small diced
1/4 cup green onions, thinly sliced
2 Tbl. cilantro, chopped
2 tsp fresh jalapenos, seeds removed and minced
1/2 cup pineapple, small dice
1 kiwi, peeled, small dice
1/2 cup fresh peach, peeled, small dice
1/2 cup orange segments
1/2 cup lime segments
1/2 tsp Salt

Combine all ingredients together and refrigerate until ready to serve.


Jalapeño and Roasted Garlic Crème Fraiche

1 cup heavy whipping cream
2 tsp lemon juice

1/4 cup sour cream
1 Tbl Canned Jalapeños, chopped fine
1/4 cup Roasted Garlic Puree
1/2 tsp salt

Combine heavy whipping cream and lemon juice in an airtight container and put it in a warm place 6-8 hours. (It should reach 85-95 degrees). Remove the cover and stir well. Refrigerate overnight.
After the crème fraiche has set, stir in the sour cream, peppers, roasted garlic and salt. Store refrigerated until ready to serve.

Yield:
6 servings

Ye Olde Foode and Gas-e Costs


I paid $100 to fill my gas tank today. Actually, the pump stopped at $99.38, but I kept squeezing the handle, topping it off, and eking the last $.62 out of the pump just to see if our economy had actually reached a point where it takes a clean, crisp Benjamin Franklin to fill the tank in my vehicle.

One hundred dollars. I sat there and thought about it for a minute. The year the state of Mississippi awarded me a driver’s license was the same year I entered the job market— 1976. I was making $2.20 an hour as a radio station disc jockey. Gas was around $0.60 a gallon. Sitting there in the van next to the pump it hit me: I used to purchase an entire gallon for what I now have to pay for the last little drops used to top off the tank. I felt old.

Food costs have risen more in the last year than in any of the previous 27 years I’ve been in the restaurant business. My raw product costs have risen an average of 40% since last year. We’re doing everything we can not to raise prices, we’ve held firm so far (to the detriment of our bottom line), yet in New York they’re selling $175 hamburgers.

I read a news story on wcbstv.com the other day that told of a hamburger joint in the financial district of lower Manhattan that serves a Kobe beef hamburger topped with foie gras, exotic mushrooms, shaved black truffles, golden truffle mayonnaise, and gold flakes. Gold flakes! The burger is served at The Wall Street Burger Shoppe.

Go figure. Wall Street types are paying $175 for hamburgers topped with precious metals and we’re worried about having to raise menu prices a nickel.

The Wall Street Burger Shoppe is one of those places with the extra “pe” on the end of “shop.” I hate that. I would bet that The Wall Street Burger Shoppe used to have a “Ye Olde” at the beginning of their name before they started trying to sell $175 burgers to stockbrokers and fund managers.

A general retail rule-of-thumb: Any place with an extra “e” on the end of any word in their name is going to be more expensive than a similar business without an Old English affectation on their shingle.

New York is also home to a $25,000 sundae (Serendipity 3), a $1,000 pizza (Nino Selmaj’s), a $1,000 bagel (a Westin Hotel), and a $55 bottle of water. Could it be that we people in the flyover states, who are paying exorbitant prices for gas and milk, are subsidizing the eating habits of pin-striped and wing-tipped New Yorkers?

Wait a minute. It’s not just New York. In Philadelphia someone’s selling a $100 cheese steak sandwich using Kobe beef, truffles, foie gras, and heirloom tomatoes. That’s a far cry from the pepper and onions finished with Cheez Whiz of the past (note: neither “cheez” nor “whiz” has an extra “e” at the end of their name).

Reading these news stories infuriated me for a moment. Then I thought of the absurdity of a $25,000 sundae, and I came to the realization that we really don’t have it so bad. In the end, I’d rather live down here and pay $4 for gas than live next door to an idiot who would use gold as a condiment on a $175 cheeseburger.



Black and Blue Burgers

3 pounds Ground Beef
1/3 cup Blackening Seasoning
1 Tbl Kosher Salt

1/2 pound Blue Cheese Crumbles

6 Hamburger Buns
1/4 cup Unsalted Butter, melted

6 Slices Red Onion
8-12 slices Ripe Tomato
2 cups Iceburg Lettuce, shredded

1 recipe Purple Parrot Café Blue Cheese Dressing (recipe below)

Divide the ground beef into 6 equal parts and form 1-1/2-inch thick patties.

Sprinkle patties with the blackening seasoning and salt. Cook over direct high heat for 8-10 minutes for medium- medium well burgers (155-160 degrees). While the burgers are still on the grill, top with blue cheese crumbles dividing equally between burgers. Close the grill lid to melt blue cheese.

Brush the inside surfaces of the hamburger buns with the melted butter. Place on grill and cook over medium-direct heat for 2-3 minutes. Place burgers on the grilled buns and top with onion, tomato and lettuce. Serve the blue cheese dressing on the side

Yield: 6 burgers


Purple Parrot Café Blue Cheese Dressing

1 cup mayonnaise
1/2 cup crumbled blue cheese
1/3 cup sour cream
3/4 cup half and half
1/2 tsp paprika
1 Tbl garlic powder
1 tsp Worcestershire Sauce
1/2 tsp white pepper

Use a wire whip to combine the mayonnaise, blue cheese, sour cream and half and half in a stainless steel bowl. Mix these ingredients together thoroughly and then add the remaining ingredients and blend together. Refrigerate until needed. Best if made a day in advance.

Yield:
2 1/2 cups

My friends at Turn Row Books in Greenwood, MS spent the entire weekend cooking from New South Grilling. The following is swiped from their blog at http://www.turnrowbooks.typepad.com/:

A Weekend of New South Grilling
Nothing heralds the arrival of summer like a good barbecue. In anticipation of Thursday's event with popular Mississippi chef Robert St. John, we boned up on our grilling during a weekend-long session with his new book, New South Grilling. The book is aimed at seasoned barbecuers hoping to add some spice to their backyard feasts, and though we are by no means experts, we've grilled our share. Still, the book posed a fair challenge. We drained an entire propane tank, came close to a kitchen fire only once, and had some great meals. Here's how it went:

Friday night: Grilled Fish Tacos with Three SaucesWe fell in love with fish tacos after visiting the West Coast. You don't find them much in the South, so we make them at home all the time. The key components are a firm white fish, red cabbage and a cream sauce, which really distinguishes the dish and makes it singular. St. John's recipe calls for mahimahi, which arrives at our local, land-locked supermarket only rarely. No luck this time, so we settled for a nice Gulf fish, tilapia, and wouldn't you know it — China farm-raised. We live 4-5 hours from the Gulf but can only get China-grown fish. (Except for Mississippi-raised catfish, which, incidentally, works in fish tacos only if fried.) The unique features of this recipe were the pineapple pico de gallo and the avocado mayonnaise, a real winner. This one is recommended for the mayo and especially for those who've never prepared fish tacos at home. An easy, essential staple.

Saturday lunch: Chicken TacosAnxious to revisit the avocado mayonnaise, we split the leftover fish and grilled some chicken with St. John's poultry seasoning, then wrapped them in corn tortillas for a variation on the fish tacos. For drinks, we wanted to make the Crescent City Grill Southern Sunset but couldn't get our hands on fresh raspberries, and though frozen may substitute, we opted instead for the Julia's Julep, a take on the classic Southern cocktail from St. John's pal and Delta girl Julia Reed.

Saturday night: Key Lime Grilled Shrimp with Pecan-spiked Rice This one took some serious prep. We selected it because St. John calls it the best shrimp recipe in the book and because we love key limes. We were also interested in trying his no-stick grilling marinade on the shrimp. The real surprise of the dish was the pecan rice, which was cooked perfectly, if we do say so, and the flavors were tremendous. This is a dish you could serve in place of stuffing at Thanksgiving and you'd get no complaints. On top of the rice went the shrimp, which we overcooked a tad (they're tricky on the grill) and a Key Lime Beurre Blanc that was ladled over the whole dish. Each element was so distinct and flavorful that we enjoyed them more separately than together. All in all, though, we were impressed that we'd pulled this one off, and very pleased that we had a rice dish to add to our permanent repertoire.

Sunday "dinner": Whole Roasted Citrus Chicken with Grilled Sweet Potatoes and Stuffed TomatoesWhen Alton Brown was here last month, he was asked if he referred to the noon meal as lunch or dinner. It's a tricky distinction, especially in the South, and Mr. Brown said that it depends: if you were grabbing a quick bite with office buddies, it was lunch. But if you were having a huge family-style meal after church, it constituted a dinner. That's what we had Sunday. Family came over, we all pitched in and worked out this "second-best" chicken dish from the book (the first is Mr. St. John's Yardbird with Barley and Hops Enema, a beer-can chicken recipe which someone said sounded "unappetizing" ... until you've tried it, we're certain), along with some terrific side items. The whole chicken went into a citrus and sugar brine overnight, then was stuffed with oranges, lemons, limes, onions, garlic and fresh thyme. It sat on the grill obediently for an hour as we rustled up the sliced sweet potatoes, slathered in butter and brown sugar, and tomatoes stuffed with pesto made from homegrown basil, onions, shallots, and Italian breadcrumbs.

Everything was a hit, especially the chicken, again cooked to perfection, and bearing a unique, sweet flavor. The potatoes were a hit with the kids, as was the promise of Grilled Bananas Foster. If you've never prepared this flaming dish, don't try this one ... at least not with company waiting. We ran through a sack of brown sugar and wasted much good rum, nearly starting a stovetop fire in the process. Luckily, bananas, ice cream and caramel sauce satisfied the kids, and another round of juleps on the sideporch made a nice respite as the kitchen aired out.

Sunday night: Chicken Pesto QuesadillasDinner would have carried us over into evening just fine, but we weren't yet deflated, even after the bananas foster incident. So we used the remaining pesto and uncooked chicken for these delightful, simple quesadillas. With some leftover sweet potatoes and pecan rice (a recipe all the in-laws took home) on the side, it made a perfect late dinner. The pesto will freeze, so here's another keeper.

How nice to come home on Monday evening and have a fridge full of leftovers. There are enough variations left — grilled fish with the Key Lime Beurre Blanc, tomatoes stuffed with shrimp and parmesan, and citrus chicken sandwiches with avocado mayonnaise — to last well into the week, and we hadn't even ventured deep into the cookbook. We're still looking forward to the Grilled Crawfish Pizza, the Black and Blue Burgers with Jalapeno Chips, Grouper with Black Bean/Corn/Tomato Salsa, Grilled Potato Salad, and Marinated Cedar-Plank Salmon ... and maybe that yardbird too, just as soon as we get the propane refilled.

Until then, we'll eat with Robert St. John in front of the store this Thursday evening, May 22, at 5:30 p.m. when he stops in to grill and sign copies of the new cookbook.

Table Fifty-Two

CHICAGO— It's mid May and the tulips are still blooming on Michigan Avenue. I'm up here for a book signing and making full use of my spare time eating my way through the Windy City.

Art Smith opened his signature restaurant here a few months ago. Table Fifty-Two is a quaint little eating place tucked away on a charming tree-lined street and a breath of fresh, southern air in the capital of the Midwest.

Smith spent several years as Oprah's full-time, personal chef and still cooks for Ms. Winfrey's social functions, parties, and charitable causes. He formed his own charity several years ago, Common Threads, which helps to educate children on proper nutrition using food and art. He's a James Beard award-winning cookbook author, a humanitarian, a leader in preserving southern culture and foodways, and a world-class chef.

Table Fifty-Two has all of the Southern charm of an elegant, old-south dining room— chandeliers, heavy curtains, sideboards, plate collections hanging on the wall— with the sophistication of a white-linen restaurant, all in a building that used to house a garage. It feels like home, right down to the Gail Pittman dinnerware.

Pre-dinner amuse bouches in typical fine-dining restaurants consist of small, bite-sized portions of caviar-laced seafood topped with micro greens, or a demitasse of a light bisque or culinary foam. At Table Fifty-Two— a restaurant certainly as elegant as any of the micro-green mainstays— the amuse bouche is a deviled egg followed by Smith's famous drop biscuits with goat cheese and parmesan. The latter being one of the more unique and flavorful bread items I have ever tasted.

I finished my drop biscuit in record time and tried to steal my wife's. There was no way she was surrendering hers without a fight. The server sympathized and brought another order. Of all the meals I have eaten, in all of the cities, and all of the fine dining restaurants over the years, this meal will go down as the first time I have ever requested seconds on an amuse bouche.

Actually, I could have made a meal out of the drop biscuits, alone. Fortunately there was more to come. The next course consisted of a wood-fired pizza of fresh mozzarella, ham, and a roasted tomato sauce. Smith is big on pizza. We were at an event together a few years ago where he served pizzas with smoked duck and turnip greens. It was one of the more interesting pizzas I have ever tasted. This pizza was as good or better.

My wife had a fried green tomato appetizer for an entrée; I skipped the main course offerings and opted for a selection of the family-style vegetable side orders— braised collard greens, roasted sweet potatoes with honey, baked macaroni and cheese, and market julienned vegetables in a light vinaigrette.

We finished the meal with a fruit cobbler and Art's famous Hummingbird Cake. Art Smith is full of Southern hospitality and charm. His restaurant is a perfect representation of his personality and character and worthy of a visit the next time you're in Chicago.

Chicago is one of our country's great restaurant cities. Where else could one sit a few blocks off of Michigan Avenue and eat turnip greens and drop biscuits while having a conversation with the neighboring table about the futility of the Chicago Bears offense.


Art Smith's Drop Biscuits with Goat Cheese and Parmesan Recipe

2 cups self-rising flour
2 teaspoons baking powder
1/2 teaspoon baking soda
1 teaspoon salt
4 tablespoons cold butter
4 tablespoons goat cheese
1 cup buttermilk
extra butter, to grease pan and top biscuits
1/4 cup grated parmesan cheese

1. Preheat your oven to 425°F Place one 10-inch cast iron pan into the oven while it is preheating. Place flour, salt, baking soda and baking powder into a medium-sized bowl. Cut in the butter and goat cheese. Make a well in the middle of the ingredients and pour in the milk. Stir until the mix is moistened, adding an extra tablespoon of milk if needed.

2. Remove the hot skillet from the oven and place a tablespoon of butter into it. When the butter has melted, drop 1/4 cupfuls of batter into the pan, (use a muffin scoop to drop the batter if you have one). Brush the tops of the biscuits with melted butter. Bake from 14–16 minutes until browned on the top and bottom. Remove from the oven and sprinkle with the grated cheese. Enjoy warm!

Recipe Requests

I receive requests for recipes all of the time.

For the first 10 years I was in business at the Purple Parrot Café and Crescent City Grill, I wouldn’t give out recipes. Early on, Bon Appetit magazine and Food & Wine magazine asked repeatedly for our Corn and Crab Bisque recipe. I wouldn’t give it up. I stood my ground. It was a stupid thing to do.

These days I’ll share every recipe we prepare in our kitchens. I am not worried about other restaurants stealing or using them, that’s been happening for years. Occasionally a chef will leave one of our restaurants, sneak a few recipes out of one of our prep manuals, and go to work for one of our competitors, where our creation magically appears on the menu. It happens.

Today, our business is an open book. I have published most of our popular recipes in cookbooks or on my website. I finally realized that you can have the best recipes in the world, but operating a successful restaurant is much, much more than having an all-star treasure trove of recipes. It’s all about execution.

If it were only about the recipe, every restaurant in the country would be successful. All a restaurant operator would have to do is load their menu with cookbook recipes from the country’s most successful chefs, and customers would be beating a path to their door.

Sure, recipes are important, but one has to have to have the creativity to keep coming up with more appealing, tasteful, and profitable recipes. Also, one has to manage the staff that prepares and serves the recipes. The restaurant business might be the only business where there are more ways to lose money than there are to make money.

It’s all about management. The textbooks might say location, location, location, but in reality, it’s management, management, management. One can have great recipes, but if he can’t manage the 1,000 little things that are needed to operate a successful restaurant, he’ll be hosting a pennies-on-the-dollar used restaurant equipment auction.

Recipe requests are flattering and should be taken as such. If someone appreciates the effort and creativity a chef puts into a new creation, it should be shared. I figure if someone wants to take the time to shop, prep, and cook one of my recipes to share with their friends and family, the least I can do is give them the road map to do so.

That brings me to today’s’ topic. The most requested recipe I have received lately is not for one of my recipes, but for a tuna dip served at Harbor Docks restaurant in Destin, FL.

I wrote about Harbor Docks Smoked Tuna Dip last summer. I received tons of requests for the recipe then, and over the last two months have received even more. I guess with summer quickly approaching, people are searching for beach food.

The problem is that the initial recipe I was given was incorrect. It had enough pepper and seafood seasoning to choke an elephant. Harbor Docks was happy to give up the recipe, but it was way off base from what they’re preparing in the kitchen. Something got lost in translation between the Harbor Docks kitchen staff, Charles Morgan, Harbor Docks’ owner, and me.

Note: As I type, I have just received another request for Harbor Docks Smoked Tuna Dip in my email inbox.

I decided to call Morgan and take another stab at getting the correct recipe. He was happy to oblige and had Art Matthews, his kitchen manager, call me back.

The smoked tuna dip at Harbor docks is, by far, the best in the area. Actually, it’s the best I have ever tasted. A few years ago, I worked up a recipe for smoked crab dip for a cookbook. It’s good, but my wife still prefers Harbor Docks smoked tuna dip.

Harbor Docks Smoked Tuna Dip rocks because the tuna is fresh and only hours old when it is brined and smoked, they make the dip fresh-from-scratch every morning, and— like all good recipes— it is simple and uncomplicated with minimal ingredients.



Harbor Docks Smoked Tuna Dip

1 quart Water
1/4 cup Salt
2 1/2 lbs. Fresh Yellowfin tuna
1 1/2 cups Mayonnaise (use more or less depending on your preferred consistency)
1 Tablespoon Black Pepper
1 Tablespoon Garlic Powder
Hot sauce to taste

Combine salt and water. Soak tuna steaks in a salt water brine for one hour before smoking. Transfer to smoker and smoke until cooked through (do not overcook). Chop smoked tuna steaks to your desired consistency (rough chopped or finely chopped— Harbor Docks chops fine)

In a stainless steel mixing bowl, combine chopped smoked tuna, mayonnaise, pepper, and garlic powder and mix well. Harbor Docks doesn’t use hot sauce in their recipe, but offers it tableside to be added for individual tastes.

Cookbook Interview


My newest cookbook, New South Grilling (Hyperion, $29.95), had its national release last week. Since I am the newspaper’s food writer, the duty falls to me cover the book's release. Therefore I will interview myself.

Columnist Robert: Good morning, Robert. Thanks for taking time out of your busy schedule to visit with me.

Author Robert: It’s my pleasure, Robert. Actually, I was getting a little bored sitting here watching you do all of the typing.

Columnist Robert: Don’t you think it’s tacky, tasteless, narcissistic, and egotistical to promote your own personal projects in your column.

Author Robert: Yes. But it’s your column. You’re the one asking the questions.

Columnist Robert: Tell me about your new cookbook.

Author Robert: I’d love to. The book is entitled New South Grilling (Hyperion, $29.95). It’s my seventh book in six years. I believe it’s my best pure cookbook, so far. It has over 130 recipes and 82 color photographs.

Columnist Robert: Is this your first book with food photography?

Author Robert: Yes. My publisher sent a professional from New York. His name is Joey DeLeo, and we spent two weeks shooting all of the photographs for the book. He did a great job.

Columnist Robert: The photographs are great.

Author Robert: I know. The recipes are even better.

Columnist Robert: I don’t want to feed your already overinflated ego, but didn’t you act as the food stylist for the food photographs?

Author Robert: Yes, and thanks for slyly slipping that one in. My publisher asked me to be the food stylist. It was tedious at first. After the third day, I started to get the hang of it, and eventually had a blast. I look forward to doing it again.

Columnist Robert: What makes this book different than other grilling books?

Author Robert: That’s a leading question.

Columnist Robert: I know. I was throwing you a bone.

Author Robert: Thanks. The reason New South Grilling (Hyperion $29.95) differs from other grilling books is that it’s NOT filled with six chapters of instructions. I already assume that everyone knows how to light a grill, keep food away from the heat, and make cross-hatch marks. The book is short on teaching, but long on flavor and photography. Also, I teach you the secret of not having your food stick to the grill.

Columnist Robert: What’s the secret?

Author Robert: Buy the book.

Columnist Robert: All of your other books have been released in November. Why May?

Author Robert: Grilling is a summertime activity, and Father’s Day is just around the corner.

Columnist Robert: Is there anything you would like to add?

Author Robert: Yes. I would want everyone to know that the meager and measly profits the publisher will eventually send me from the sales of this book will go to clothe, feed, and educate the two most wonderful children you have ever met. And trust me, they eat a lot.

Columnist Robert: Don’t you think it’s in bad taste to use your children as a sales tool.

Author Robert: Absolutely.

Columnist Robert: Is there anything else you’d like to add?

Author Robert: Did I mention that Father’s Day is just around the corner?

Columnist Robert: Yes.

Author Robert: Then, no. Wait… did I mention that the book is available at a store near you, and that I’ll probably be in your area, soon, for a book signing or cooking demo. The schedule is on my website http://www.robertstjohn.com/ .

Columnist Robert: You can’t say that, here.

Author Robert: Never mind, then.

Columnist Robert: Thank you.

Author Robert: No, thank you.




Whole Roasted Citrus Chicken

Brine

1 quart water
1 cup sugar
1/3 cup kosher salt
1 Tbl black pepper, freshly ground
2 oranges
2 lemons
2 limes

1 whole chicken, 3 1/2-4 pounds


1 orange, cut into quarters
1 lemon, cut into quarters
1 lime, cut into quarters
1/2 cup yellow onion, small dice
1 tsp fresh garlic minced
1 Tbl fresh thyme, chopped
2-3 Tbl olive oil
2 tsp poultry seasoning
1 Tbl fresh ground black pepper

Place the water, sugar, salt and black pepper in a saucepot and bring to a simmer to dissolve sugar and salt. Remove from heat. Using a vegetable peeler, remove only the outer skin from the first 2 oranges, lemons and limes, be careful not to get any of the pith (white part of the peel). Add the peelings to the brine. Squeeze all of the juice from the peeled citrus and add the juice to the brine. Place the brine in the refrigerator and allow to cool completely.

Remove giblets and neck from the chicken and submerge the chicken in the brine. Cover and refrigerate overnight.

Remove chicken from the brine and, using a paper towel, dry all surfaces of the chicken, including the cavity area.

Combine the orange, lemon and lime with the diced onions, minced garlic and fresh thyme. Stuff the citrus-onion mixture into the cavity of the chicken.

Brush the skin of the chicken with olive oil and sprinkle the skin with poultry seasoning and black pepper. Tie the legs together, and bend the wings back to secure them.

Prepare the grill. Cook with the breast side up over indirect medium heat until the juices run clear, or until an internal temperature of 170 degrees is reached, approximately 1 1/4- 1 1/2 hours.

Place the chicken on a cutting board and allow it to rest for 10-12 minutes before carving.
Serve hot.

Yield: 4 servings

Tough Chefs


Chefs are tough. They have to be.

Cooking in a professional kitchen is one of the hardest jobs out there. The pressure is high, the heat is intense, and the skill set needed at the upper level of the restaurant business is earned more than learned.

A lot of people get into the restaurant business because they cook a good steak in their backyard. This is how it happens:

“Say, Joe, that’s a good steak. You ought to open up a restaurant.”

“You think so?” says Joe.

“Sure. You’ll make a mint.”

Then Joe opens a restaurant and quickly learns that being able to cook a good steak is about 5% of the knowledge needed to operate a successful restaurant.
Bankers hate restaurants. It’s because people like Joe are constantly opening restaurants and then going out of business.

I talk to a lot of kids with stars in their eyes. They have seen the Food Network and have romanticized the restaurant business. Most think that when they graduate from chef school or receive a bachelor’s degree in hospitality management, they'll be floating around their successful restaurant's dining room, basking in the glow of their adoring and grateful customers, while later taking a seat at their private corner table for dinner.

They quickly learn the truth when they are filling in for a dishwasher who didn't show up for his Saturday night shift, or mopping up the ladies room, or learning that their chef career wasn’t supposed to include stints of pressure washing greasy mats on the back dock at 11:30 at night.

My title is Executive Chef, which is a fancy way to say, "He doesn't cook much anymore." Sure, I put in several years of 90-hour work weeks early in my cooking career, but the truth is, if I got behind my line tomorrow night, I would slow everyone down. My kitchen passed me up years ago. I might be bale to get my service chops back in a matter of weeks, but the truth is, I can better serve my company doing the "vision thing."

I am a dinosaur. I get to create nowadays. I work mostly in menu development, creating new dishes for my restaurants, and making sure that the dishes I created years ago are still being executed in the way they were developed.
The key to success in the restaurant business is management, management, management.

All problems in the restaurant business can be traced back to management, or lack thereof. Conversely, all successes in restaurants are due to a crackerjack management staff staying on top of food quality, service, consistency, and the “1000 little things” that require constant attention and supervision.

Again, cooking in a high-volume professional kitchen is tough stuff. Chefs have to be strong. Linda Nance, Chef De Cuisine at the Purple Parrot Café, graduated at the top of her class at the Culinary Institute of America in the mid 1980s. She has been cooking in kitchens across the country ever since. She hasn’t slowed up a bit. I’d put her up against any 25-year old male chef and she would run circles around him. She is a great example of how tough the women who cook for a living can be.

The Toughest Chef of the Year Award goes to noted New Orleans chef, Paul Prudhomme. Earlier this year, the father of the Cajun blackening movement was shot while cooking at the Zurich Golf Classic. True Story: A .22 caliber bullet hit just above Prudhomme’s elbow early in the morning while he was stirring seafood in a skillet. The chef felt a sting, shook his arm, and the bullet fell out of the sleeve of his chef’s coat. He kept on cooking for another six hours. Apparently, even golfing in New Orleans is dangerous these days.

Chefs are tough, but taking a bullet for your food and continuing to cook is taking one’s professional commitment and dedication to an entirely different level.


Cracked Pepper Filet with Mustard Cognac Sauce

6, 6-8 ounce filet mignon
2 Tbl N-Stick Grilling Marinade for beef
1 Tbl kosher salt
1/2 cup cracked black pepper

2 tsp olive oil
1/2 tsp fresh garlic, minced
1 Tbl shallot, minced
1/4 tsp salt
1/4 cup cognac
2 Tbl brown sugar
1/2 cup Veal demi glace (if you don’t have time, purchase a high-quality veal stock from a gourmet food store)
1 cup whipping cream
2 Tbl Dijon mustard


Lightly brush the surfaces of the steaks with the marinade and set aside for 45 minutes, the steak should remain at room temperature while marinating.
Season the marinade steaks with the salt and firmly press the black pepper onto the surfaces of the steak
.
Prepare grill and cook steaks over direct high heat untildesired doneness, 8-10 minutes for medium rare. Turn the steaks once while cooking.

For the sauce:

Heat olive oil in a small sauté pot over low heat. Add garlic, shallots, and salt and cook 3-4 minutes, stirring often. Add cognac and brown sugar and cook 5-6 minutes, until thick and syrupy. Add demi glace* and cook until the mixture has reduced by half. Add the cream and cook until the sauce has reduced by half. Remove from the heat and stir in the mustard.

Top each cooked steak with 1-2 ounces of sauce.

Yield:
6 servings

No-Stick Grilling Marinade for Beef


4 Egg Yolks
1 Tbl Dijon Mustard
1/4 cup Balsamic Vinegar
1 cup Canola Oil
1 cup Light Olive Oil
Warm water as needed
2 Tbl Lawry’s Season Salt
2 Tbl Black Pepper, freshly ground
2 Tbl Lemon Pepper Seasoning
2 tsp Garlic Powder
1 tsp Onion Powder

Place the egg yolks, Dijon mustard, and vinegar in a food processor. Blend on medium speed for 1-2 minutes.

Slowly drizzle oils into the mixture, one tablespoon at a time. If the marinade becomes too thick, add 1-2 tablespoons of warm water. Once all of the oil has been incorporated, add seasoned salt, pepper, lemon pepper, garlic powder, and onion powder until incorporated. Store covered in the refrigerator until needed.

Yield:
2 1/2 cups

Veal Stock

4 pounds veal bones
1 gallon cold water
1 pound yellow onion, cut into large pieces
3/4 pound carrots, peeled and cut into large pieces
1/2 pound celery, cleaned and cut into large pieces
3 bay leaves
1/2 bunch fresh parsley
4–6 sprigs of fresh thyme
3 peeled garlic cloves, smashed
1/2 tablespoon cracked black peppercorns

Rinse the veal bones under cold water 4–5 minutes. Place bones in a large stockpot, and cover with the cold water. Place over low medium heat and slowly bring to a simmer.

Using a ladle, skim off any foam that floats to the top and allow stock to come to a very slow simmer with tiny little bubbles gently rising to the surface. Once temperature is reached, and most of the foam has been skimmed, set a timer for 6 hours. Watch carefully and add more water to stock as it cooks.

After 6 hours, skim the stock to remove fat and scum, and then add the remaining ingredients. Top off the stock with water again and let it cook for 12–14 hours. Periodically, check stock to make sure the heat is keeping the stock at a steady slow simmer.

When the timer goes off, turn off heat. Strain the stock and discard all bones and vegetables. Fill sink with heavily iced water and place the container of stock in the ice bath to cool as quickly as possible. Once stock is completely cooled, remove any fat from the surface.
Yield: 3 quarts

When demi glace is needed, simply reduce the finished veal stock by 50 percent.

(In restaurants, veal stocks are cooked 24–36 hours.)

Leftovers



I know a man who never has to eat leftovers.

I grew up across the street from him. When he woke up in the morning, breakfast was waiting for his arrival to the table. In the middle of the day, he left work and drove home to enjoy a freshly prepared lunch. When he got home from work, dinner was on the table. Day in, day out, this was the routine, still is. He doesn’t eat leftovers.

He is a lucky man, indeed.

His wife is an excellent cook. Her leftovers are better than what a lot of us eat as first-round offerings.

I am not a very good leftover eater, either. It’s not that I have an aversion or dislike for leftovers, but I am so passionate about food, that I am usually thinking about what I am going to eat for the next meal while I am eating the current meal.

One of my favorite leftover foods is turkey. During Thanksgiving I usually prepare an extra turkey just in case all of the primary turkey is all gone after the main meal. The pure simplicity of a turkey sandwich on good-quality whole-grain bread with homemade mayonnaise, salt, pepper, and lettuce one of my holiday treats.

Meatloaf might be the universal— and best— leftover food of them all. Mashed potatoes, too.

Necessity might be the mother of invention, but a growling stomach is the father. I imagine there are many foods that started out as leftovers that became featured entrees later—Sheppard’s pie comes to mind.

In the Purple Parrot Café, we occasionally develop a “keeper” recipe while using leftovers. Recently, Chef Linda Nance created a fried potato salad. It’s like a potato cake except one uses the standard picnic-style, yellow-mustard potato salad, forms it into patty, rolls it in breadcrumbs, and fries it in a skillet. I have a friend in Jackson who has been raving for two months about The Purple Parrot’s Fried Potato Salad.

Some foods actually taste better as leftovers the next day—red beans and rice, chili, and gumbo are all better the second or third day.

Here are my Top 10 Leftover Foods

10.) Fried Rice— it’s a fence rider. Fried rice almost fits into the better-the-next-day-than-the-first-day category.
9.) Split Pea/White Bean Soup— using stock made from leftover/scrap smoked ham bones
8.) Cold Pizza for breakfast— my son’s favorite leftover food (and one his mom almost never lets him eat).
7.) Chicken Salad— made using last night’s roasted chicken or fried chicken (throw the skin in, too)
6.) Cornbread dressing and gravy— who needs turkey if you make a great dressing?
5.) Bread Pudding— made using yesterday’s croissants instead of stale French bread.
4.) Bacon, Lettuce, and Tomato Sandwiches— using leftover bacon from breakfast and homemade mayonnaise.
3.) Meatloaf— the quintessential leftover. As a child I hated meatloaf. Today, I am one of its biggest proponents. I am ready for meatloaf to make a comeback in a big way.
2.) Turkey Sandwiches— Again, not only for the holidays
1.) Steak and Biscuits— Wrap leftover steak-dinner scraps in aluminum foil and refrigerate overnight. The next morning, slice the steak into strips, reheat in the oven, and serve inside buttered biscuits sprinkled with a little steak seasoning (this one’s worth cooking an extra steak the night before so you’ll have plenty the next morning). Ribeyes work best. Serve with scrambled eggs on the side and fresh fruit.

Honorable mention leftovers—Spaghetti, pot roast, and lasagna

The worst leftover of all time: Tuna Casserole. Hands down, no question. It’s as bad the second time around as it was the first.

Be careful with leftovers and always use proper food handling techniques. It’s a good idea to label and date leftovers. A good rule of thumb: If you can’t remember when you made the dish the first time, it’s too old to eat.


Three-Meat Meatloaf with Garlic-Tomato Glaze

1 pound Ground beef
1/2 pound Ground venison
1/2 pound Ground Pork
1 Tbl Canola oil
1 cup Onion, minced
3 /4 cup Celery, minced
3 /4 cup Bell pepper, minced
1 tsp Garlic, minced
1 /8 tsp Thyme, dry
1 /4 tsp Oregano, dry
2 tsp Steak Seasoning
1 Tbl Salt
1 cup Milk
1 /2 cup Ketchup
1 Tbl Worcestershire sauce
3 Eggs
1 1/2 cup Unseasoned Course Bread crumbs

Preheat oven to 325 degrees.

Heat the bacon grease in a large skillet over medium heat. Sauté the vegetables with salt and dry herbs until tender. Allow to cool.

Combine milk, eggs, Worcestershire and ketchup and mix well. Place ground beef, venison, pork, cooled vegetables and egg mixture into a large mixing bowl. Using your hands, squish the meatloaf until you have mixed everything together and all is well incorporated. Fold in the breadcrumbs last.

Shape the meat mixture into the form of a loaf on a baking sheet. Bake 40 minutes.

After 40 minutes of cooking, use a pastry brush and brush the garlic-tomato glaze over the entire meatloaf. Return to the oven and bake for 20 more minutes. Again, remove the meatloaf and brush another layer of the glaze over it. Return it once again to the oven and bake for 20 more minutes. Brush one final layer of the glaze on the meatloaf and cook for 10 more minutes. Remove the meatloaf and allow it to rest 15 minutes before serving.
Yield: 8-10 servings


Garlic-Tomato Glaze

1 tsp. Bacon fat
1 Tbl. Garlic, minced
1 Tbl. Onion, minced
1 tsp salt
1/2 tsp dry basil
1/4 tsp fresh ground black pepper
3 Tbl Brown sugar
2Tbl Tomato paste
1/2 cup Chicken Broth
2 Tbl. Yellow mustard
1 Tbl. Worcestershire Sauce
1 cup Ketchup

Heat the bacon fat in a small skillet over a low heat. Cook the onions, garlic and salt for 2-3 minutes. Add the basil, black pepper and brown sugar cook for 3-4 minutes. Stir constantly tp prevent the sugar from burning. Stir in remaining ingredients and simmer for 5-6 minutes, stirring occasionally.

Too Short, or Too Demented?


“You’re too short for your weight,” said my doctor.

“Pardon me,” I said.

“I’m looking at this chart, and it says right here that you’re way too short for your weight. You’re supposed to be between six-feet five inches and six-feet seven inches tall,” he said.

“But I’m five-ten.”

“I know,” he said, and turned back to the chart to scribble more notes.

I got the point.

I suggested that he might have a future in politics, closed the door behind my annual check-up, and headed home to eat breakfast before going to work.

As I walked into my kitchen, two ladies on the Today show were talking about obesity.

“People in their 40s with belly fat are more likely to have dementia in their 70s,” said one of the ladies.

I’ve got enough belly fat to fill the cargo hold of a whaling vessel. I’m gonna be full-goose bozo by the time I reach 75, I thought to myself.

As I sat down to eat my oatmeal, I opened USA Today and there was the aforementioned study on the bottom of page 4D, “Belly fat linked to an increased risk of dementia.” Someone or something was trying to tell me something, and it was more than just the growling in my stomach. I wondered if my doctor thinks I’m too short to be a demented septuagenarian, too.

The lady on television moved on to something she called the waist-hip test. She was measuring her waist and then her hips. She then divided the waist measurement by the hip measurement, or something like that. I started to go to the junk drawer for the measuring tape, but quickly realized that doing so would be futile. I can’t even see my hips because my waist is too big. Why take a test that is doomed from the start?

The signs were everywhere. My waist is expanding, my chins are multiplying faster than feed-store rabbits, summer is quickly approaching, and I’m still shopping at the Big and Tall store (and I’m only 5’10”). I need to lose weight, if for no other reason than to make sure I’m not a drooling, babbling, demented buffoon by the time I turn 70.

I had a crazy uncle who used to sit on his front porch, shout obscenities at his across-the-street neighbors, and shoot at passersby with his BB gun. The genetics are there, but he was bone-thin. How much worse will it be for a fat guy if this lady’s theory is true?

I once heard someone explain the difference between the North and the South: In the North, they put their crazy uncle in an asylum. In the South, we put our crazy uncles on the front porch. It’s true. My uncle, Garland St.John, was crazy as… well, as crazy as an uncle who shoots people with a BB gun, and he spent most of his waking hours on the front porch of the old St.John home in Brooksville, MS.

Loyal readers of this column have followed my dieting ups and downs for eight years. The cumulative result (750 words per week for 416 consecutive weeks = 312,000 words) is that if one charted my dieting successes and failures over that time period, the chart would look like a Colorado mountain range.

There will be no diet this time, just a common sense lifestyle food/living plan. Hopefully my weight will catch up to my height and I won’t spend my later years shooting BBs at my neighbors from my front porch swing.

The RSJ Lifestyle Food/Living Plan is listed below. I’m on my way to smaller jeans and lower blood pressure. Join me.


RSJ Lifestyle Food/Living Plan

1. Everyday: Breakfast, mid-morning snack, healthy lunch, light afternoon snack, very light dinner— all high protein, low fat, high fiber.

2. No processed sugars.

3. No fried foods.

4. Only whole wheat/whole grain breads (no white/enriched flour).

5. Food Exceptions: Bread, meat, cheese, and starch are allowed if they are prepared by— and eaten on the premises of— a high-quality bakery, or a fine dining/mid-casual restaurant.**

6. Eat only 2/3 of restaurant portions.

7. Absolutely no food after 8pm.

8. Stop eating when 80% full.

9. Exercise Program: Weight training three days per week, cardio training three days per week.

**— lean restaurant steak = yes, fast food burger = no
bakery croissant or bagel = yes, donut/sweet roll = no



Grilled Yellow Squash and Zucchini

2 large yellow squash, cut on the bias into 1/2-inch pieces
2 large zucchini, cut on the bias into 1/2-inch pieces
1 Tbl kosher salt
1/2 cup No-Stick Grilling Marinade for Vegetables, or extra-virgin olive oil
1 tsp black pepper, freshly ground

Place the squash on a paper towel lined baking sheet and sprinkle salt over all. Let squash sit 20 minutes.

Pat the surfaces of the squash dry. Use a pastry brush to coat both sides of the squash with the no-stick marinade (or olive oil).

Prepare the grill. Cook over direct high heat for 6-8 minutes, turning once. Remove from grill and immediately sprinkle with the black pepper.

Serve hot or cold.

Yield: 6 servings

The No-Stick grilling marinade can be found in my new book New South Grilling, Hyperion 2008, due in stores May 8th. See it here: http://www.robertstjohn.com/books/nsg.php

You’ve Come A Long Way, Mississippi



In 1987, when I opened The Purple Parrot Café in my hometown of Hattiesburg, the wine situation in Mississippi was bleak.

At the time the Alcohol Beverage Control Division of the Mississippi State Tax Commission, the state agency that purchases, stocks, and distributes liquor and wine, had only been in the wine business for 20 years. During those two decades the state’s wine list was extremely small in scope. Statewide, overall wine awareness— among the ABC, the restaurateurs, and the consumers— was limited.

Wine appreciation was sweeping the country. Mississippi was still trying to catch up. “In 1983, when I opened my restaurant, I tried to make a special order for wine and the state couldn’t do it,” said Nick Apostle, owner of Nick’s restaurant on Lakeland Drive in Jackson, and one of the main reasons Mississippi’s wine program has moved forward into the 21st century.

Nick fought the battle harder than any of us. He worked tirelessly with the ABC to increase wine availability. In 2002, he took a contingent of six Mississippi legislators to Napa Valley to “educate them as to how winemakers do business with other states,” and he did it on his own dime.

Nick, along with the members of the Mississippi Restaurant Association, has made great strides working with the ABC to increase the availability of first-rate wines in the state. We have certainly come a long way.

The overall perception is that one can’t purchase good wines in Mississippi. That is simply not the case. “A lot of times we can get wines that can’t be purchased in bordering states, and at good prices,” said Clint Taylor, my business partner, and the sommelier at the Purple Parrot Café.

“There are times nowadays when we can buy excellent wines through the state of Mississippi cheaper than they’re being sold at the best wine shops in Louisiana,” said Apostle.

As a perfect example of how far we’ve come, I can proudly turn to my restaurant’s fourth annual New South Wine Expo which will be held April 18th at the train depot in historic downtown Hattiesburg.

There will be 34 world-class winemakers from California, Oregon, Washington, New Zealand, Spain, France, Australia, Germany, South Africa, Portugal, and even China flying in for the event. These winemakers will be traveling to Hattiesburg to sample over 100 of their best wines, some of which aren’t available in Mississippi, some of which aren’t available anywhere. Many of the wines have won multiple winemaking awards from Wine Spectator and Robert Parker, Jr.

Many of the wines at the expo are highly allocated. Some states can’t even get a single case. Roger Roessler, of Roessler Cellars, will be pouring an extremely limited wine in which only 125 total cases were produced. Sean Larkin, of Larkin’s Wines, will be pouring his Cabernet Sauvignon, of which only 220 cases were produced. Every bottle of wine that Larkin produced last year is gone, yet he will be in town on the 18th sampling his wares. Yes, in Mississippi, believe it.

It’s a one-of-a-kind evening for wine lovers and wine novices. Best of all, 100% of the profits from the New South Wine Expo will go to the Hattiesburg Arts Council to help fund arts programs for under-resourced youth in the area. For tickets call the Purple Parrot Café 601-264-0656 and help continue to put art back in the neighborhoods that need it most.

I am a teetotaler from way back. My business partner and his management team handle the wines while I take care of the food. But it’s amazing when one looks back over the course of 20 years in the restaurant business in Mississippi— from a small list littered with cheap jug wines to an evening with winemakers flying in from all over the world. Thanks, Nick.



Foie Gras with Toasted Brioche, Fig Relish and reduced Port Wine Glaze

1 lb. Foie Gras cut into 2 ounce slices
1 1/2 tsp kosher salt
1/4 tsp fresh ground black pepper
8 Slice Fresh Brioche, crusts removed and cut in half on a diagonal
1 recipe Fig Relish
1 Recipe Port Wine Glaze

Preheat oven to 450

Arrange the brioche on a baking sheet.
Season the foie gras with the salt and black pepper. Heat a large skillet over high heat and arrange the foie gras in the skillet so they do not touch. Cook 45 seconds. Carefully turn each piece over and cook for 1-2 minutes. Turn off the heat.
Place the brioche in the oven to toast.
To serve, place one piece of the brioche toast on each serving plate, top with one piece of the cooked foie gras. Top each piece of foie gras with 2 tsp of the fig relish. Rest another piece of toast atop of the foie gras. Drizzle the plate with the port wine glaze and serve immediately.

Yield: 8 servings.


Fig Relish

1 Tbl butter
2 Tbl minced shallots
1 1/2 cups whole fig preserves, small dice
2 Tbl brown sugar
2 Tbl sherry vinegar
2 Tbl minced celery
2 Tbl small diced red peppers
1/2 tsp fresh thyme leave, chopped
salt and pepper to taste

Melt the butter over low heat in a small sauce pot. Cook the shallots for 3 minutes. Add in the diced figs and brown sugar, and cook 5-6 minutes, stirring often to prevent sticking and burning. Add in the sherry vinegar, celery and red bell peppers and lower the heat. Cook for 10 minutes, stirring often. Add thyme, salt and black pepper and remove from heat. Best if made a day or two in advance. When ready to use, warm it slowly in a small sauté pan over a low heat.

Yield:
1 1/2 cups

Port Wine Glaze

1 cup chicken stock
1 Tbl brown sugar
1 cup port wine
2 tsp balsamic vinegar

Place all ingredients in a small sauce pot. Simmer and reduce until mixture forms a thick syrup.
Yield: One quarter cup