A Time to Cook: Dishes from My Southern Sideboard

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Introduction

I can read a cookbook like a novel, flipping through and turning page after page with zeal and excitement, awaiting the next dish, recipe or interesting culinary combo. My favorites are usually the spiral-bound Ladies of Such and Such County or The So and So Sunday School Class Cookbook . Growing up in the highly Protestant Bible Belt of the Deep South, I have had a wealth of Sunday school and church cookbooks to peruse—more so, I voraciously read and reread these literary delights and have somehow amassed quite a collection. I think it is because I cannot pass through a town, an antique store or book shop without a memento. These cookbooks are to me what paperback romance novels are to some others.

One cannot overlook the Junior League either—these women can write amazing cookbooks, and the names listed inside are second only to the Bible itself for sources of familiar Southern nomenclature. If you cannot find a suitable biblical name or if your son is not a III, IV, or V or both grandmothers’ maiden names have been used, then I am quite sure a Junior League cookbook can offer many a double-name delight for your new bundle of joy. In fact, referring to the Good Book and the Junior League in the same breath reminds me of the old and new testaments—Jackson, Mississippi’s original and second versions of its Junior League cookbook, Southern Sideboards .

Baptist cookbooks are always laden with casseroles aplenty and dessert upon dessert (for Baptists actually eat at functions, i.e., dinner on the grounds, weddings, funerals, parties.) There is a caterer in my hometown that always asks her clients how many Baptists are coming to the party, as she knows to double the food if they are attending. Methodist and Presbyterian cookbooks are always classically delightful, graciously appointed with dainty finger foods, pick-up foods and tea sandwiches. The wine pairing for the meal can be seen as well—for the latter denominations will actually speak to you in the liquor store; Baptists will not! Being a recovering Baptist myself, I was always enthralled by the other denominations’ culinary customs, and for Southerners, tasting other denominations’ foodstuffs is our way of becoming culturally astute.

As for the Episcopalians, their recipes are rich like they are, according to an anonymous Baptist I know. Game dishes, beef tenderloins, sauces and even cocktails can be found in their cookbooks—rich food for the doctors, lawyers and really old money . . .; again, the anonymity of the person quoted shall be honored. This individual, or anyone for that matter, need not offend any denomination’s food—for being outcast from any Episcopalian party (they have the best booze) or any small Southern town soiree would be a tragic loss and lead to quite an empty dance card, to boot!

To clarify this denomination debacle, the following Southern adage is applicable: Whether you are born, married or buried, Baptists will bring casseroles; Methodists and Presbyterians will bring well-rounded meals; and Episcopalians will bring a bottle of wine. If I have struck a chord with any of this, then welcome to the club, for we are all a part of a group taking full enjoyment, enchantment and even education from our houses of worship’s spiral-bound paperback kitchen stalwarts.

Photographed by James T. Farmer III

Owning your very own versions of these honored cookbooks is a rite of passage as well. Until you marry or give birth, you may have to wait until someone else is buried to receive your own treasured texts. These books are truly sacred—passed on and given with love from one generation to the next. Like my Mimi, I, too, cherish reading these cookbooks not only for the amusement of the recipes but for the names—the links to our heritage. I know many a fine lady by her pound cake recipe or her deviled eggs. I know many of the ladies my grandmother grew up knowing through these cookbooks, and am thus connected to my ancestors and legacy through these books. Mimi grew up in South Georgia during the thirties and forties, and yet I cannot help but feel as though I did too. She has told me stories about her grandmother, her Big Mama, their friends and their homes. Though I was raised in Middle Georgia during the latter couple of decades of the twentieth century, my palate was cultured in the same manner as hers—often knowing not only the farmer or grower but the cook, the kitchen, the lady—the person herself. Knowing the person is the loveliest part. And in defense of my fellow gentlemen cooks, the ladies are not the only cooks in the South—the best barbecue, grilling, whole hog roasting and even coconut cake I have ever tasted have been from the menfolk. Being connected to these people through their recipe repertoire is truly grand.

Whether you are served from their sideboard, a guest at their table, or merely acquainted through the pages of a cookbook, you are folded into their tradition of food. Food is our direct link to our past and the sustenance for our present and future. Recipes, dishes, silver and linens are passed down from generation to generation. They are passed down sometimes with chipped edges, tarnished handles, stained facades or maybe even in pristine condition; yet each and every imperfection is a perfect reminder of our heritage. Whatever your creed or culture, food is an integral part. High holidays and barbecues alike are laced and stitched together with the combinations of tradition and nostalgia, the tastes and smells of the season’s best, and the reassurance and comfort that food alone can bring.

Food is life. It is a probably the most enjoyable aspect for survival. We are so fortunate to live to eat rather than simply eating to live. I join the ranks of all those who love food, write about food, talk about it, dream about and plan what to eat or cook. Southerners, in particular, revolve their lives around food, planning our next menu while choosing from the one in our hands. We are known for our hospitality, and that is a direct correlation to our cooking. Truly, every tribe on earth has its own food; but Southern food is what I know best.

Photographed by James T. Farmer III

Southern culinary aptitude is a reflection of our heritage from a sundry of cultures. We take very seriously the manner, presentation and accoutrements associated with the service of food. That is from our Continental European and especially our English lineage. Outside of the British culture, I hardly know a society as steeped in silver service tradition as Southerners. My great-great aunt always said, You can tell a great deal about a person by her silver pattern—what her mother’s or grandmother’s pattern was, whether she is a frilly Francis I gal or a more simple but fun Chantilly kind of lady, or maybe nature loving with her own repoussé garden-themed handles or even an Audubon pattern appropriate for maybe the camp house or hunt club luncheons. The tureens and serving pieces that accompany the flatware then follow suit.

After the silver come the dinnerware and china. Families amass collections on collections of patterns, sizes and styles and pass them on to the next generation, who accumulate the same. Do this for several generations and one’s larder, linen closet, sideboard, breakfront and butler’s pantry are well stocked! All the aforementioned service pieces and storage places are simply vehicles to place the food upon or into—to store or to serve—not even to cook it!

As for that task, the Southern staple for cooking is the iron skillet. One may fry, bake, broil, roast, braise and toast with these bulwarks of Southern cooking. These, too, are passed down from generation to generation. Unlike a dainty cup and saucer, these will survive any of Sherman’s fires or wear and tear that daily use can bring. Keep them dry and keep them seasoned, and you’ll have iron skillets to pass on to your posterity.

Caring for Cast Iron

Your Armored Tank in the Kitchen

The quintessential cookware for centuries—cast iron. Give me some cast iron, a good knife, and I can cook. Bake, fry, sauté, roast, sear, stew, and simmer . . . it can all be done with cast iron skillets, fryers, and pots.

For a housewarming gift, Mimi (my grandmother) gave me a treasure—her flat iron skillet. I toast pound cake and bread with it, roast pecans, bake biscuits and cookies, practically using this piece daily, if not multiple times daily. Since it was hers, it came perfectly seasoned and ready to go! Mrs. Mary (my brown sugar grandmother figure) swears by them and any good cook worth their butter has at least one —well seasoned and black.

These vessels of culinary jubilee are not only noteworthy in functionality but also for their classic position in Southern kitchens. Part of that position is the major effectiveness of iron. Like copper and stainless steel, this metal is phenomenal in the kitchen. The other component to their success—seasoning.

A well-seasoned skillet can be a cook’s best tool. Seasoning does take some time but is easily accomplished. Some stores carry already seasoned cast-iron pieces and those can be good starters. Tips on seasoning:

Crisco, lard, and oil are the best for seasoning your skillets and pots.

Wipe down every inch of the iron ware with the Crisco or lard.

Place some foil on the bottom of the oven to catch any drippin’s.

Situate your skillet upside down in a 350 to 400 degree oven for about an hour or so.

Turn the pot back to right side up and repeat the process.

I leave the cookware in the oven until cool and will even repeat the process over a couple of days. This helps burn off any metallic taste or residue. Cooking with the pieces also adds seasoning: Oil for temperature and butter for taste—a cardinal rule for cooking. Cornbread is a great standby for your skillet repertoire. Some of the best steaks you’ll ever eat have been and will be prepared and served from your cast iron. Pineapple upside-down cake and cobblers are excellent in these skillets. And, of course, fried chicken.

Check out flea markets, estate sales, and antique shops for cast iron. I found one of my favorite pieces in an antique shop at home—she’s a beauty! Expect to pay a bit for a good old piece but an investment nonetheless. If your cast iron has a French accent and an enamel coat, then it’s called Le Creuset! (There are other brands.) Add some cast iron to your cookware collection and get to cookin’!

As for the food itself, our finer breads and more complicated recipes came from European ancestral lines. But it is the African traditions that give Southern food its hallmark. Using what was fresh, on hand, from the land and garden, hunted and gathered became de rigueur Southern practice. Slaves and farmers alike had to grow the food, raise their beef, poultry and pork and feed the farm or plantation, which was often a small community in and of itself.

Literacy of African slaves, or the lack thereof, actually led to many of our famed foodstuffs. Biscuits, cornbread, cornpone, cracklin’ bread, hoecakes and other quick breads were cooked by the African cooks. Akin to their African traditions of milling a grain and combining it with a liquid and cooking over heat or in an oven of sorts, and further combined with the ingenuity of knowing what ingredients to combine and how to do it began our culinary heritage. In turn came our obsession with cornbread and biscuits. A cup, a pinch, a handful or a splash of cornmeal, flour, buttermilk, soda and a couple of eggs gave rise to our famed breads, and thus instructions were easier to execute than those read on a recipe from a fancy French pastry book.

Any published cookbook, let alone one in English, was a challenge for the cooks and often illiterate farm folks of the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries. Thus cooking became an education and the lingual legacy of Southern cooking was created. People told the recipes to the next generation, and our tradition continues. Thankfully we are now a literate, educated society as a whole; still, we can attribute the simplicity of Southern cooking to the creative prowess and ingenious instincts of our predecessors. Even some of the superstitions of African culture infiltrated our customs (our New Year’s Day menu notwithstanding), paint colors (haint blue porch ceilings), and melodies and tunes of Southern gospel music.

Other cultures, too, spiced and flavored our culinary traditions. From the Native Americans we gleaned what flora and fauna were edible and cultivatable. They knew that the rivers, bays, lakes and coasts would yield fish, shrimp, crab and oysters. Their lands became new homelands for Europeans, from the Lowcountry to the Golden Isles to the First Coast and across The Gulf and up the Mighty Mississippi (and every tributary, river, stream and creek in between). The South in general is blessed with seafood and freshwater catches alike—all that the Native Americans knew so well.

Portuguese and Spanish influences are found throughout the South as well, especially with rice. These cultures brought rice from Africa to the New World, and since many of the slaves were from West Africa, rice cultivation flourished in the American South’s subtropical, humid, coastal wetlands. In fact, in September of 1691, the South Carolina General Assembly permitted its taxpayers, the then colonists, to pay their due taxes in rice. Rice remained a Southern commodity and major export until the Civil War, and the prized Carolina Gold rice can still be found on small farms in the Lowcountry today. Many