Rice & Grains

This famous New Orleans dish was originally served on Mondays, utilizing the ham bone left over from Sunday supper. Very low maintenance, it simmered on the stove all day while the women washed the family’s laundry and hung it out to dry. Although for the most part, Monday wash day is a thing of the past, red beans and rice is still often served as a lunch or dinner special at many New Orleans restaurants. Dishes of rice and beans are part of rustic country cooking in the Caribbean and all over the world. The inexpensive combination of rice and beans supplies essential amino acids not often found in plant proteins, and more readily found in expensive meat proteins. For the ham bone, traditional recipes now often substitute spicy boudin, smoked sausage, or Cajun andouille. Boudin is a spicy pork sausage with onion, rice, and herbs. Cajun andouille is a highly seasoned smoked sausage made from pork, whereas French andouille is made from the stomach and intestines. The andouille of Guémené, France, is crafted so that the intestines are placed inside one another, giving it the appearance of concentric circles before it is dried and smoked. This is potent stuff. I am always willing to try anything once, including chilled slices of smoked pig’s intestines. Let’s just put it this way, I’d rather have a heaping bowl of Mama’s Red Beans and Rice, and I’m not asking for seconds of French andouille any time soon.

Before I attended culinary school, my attempts at preparing rice were absolutely disastrous. Most often the final results were more like gloppy oatmeal, at best. The pilaf method I learned at L’Academie de Cuisine was my saving grace, which is why I call this recipe $20,000 Rice Pilaf (that was the cost of a year of school at the time).

The name “dirty rice” doesn’t sound very appealing, but it is an enjoyable combination of creamy rice, savory vegetables, full-flavored chicken liver, and a heavy hand of intense spice. It’s an odd conglomeration of a Cajun stir-fry and soft, comforting rice. This is, like many other country recipes, a way to make a filling meal out of a potpourri of simple, inexpensive ingredients. The chopped liver is what gives it the dark, “dirty” color. Dirty rice is like many old-school recipes—everyone has a different way to prepare it. However, most versions contain the holy trinity of Cajun cooking: bell pepper, onion, and celery. I am not so fond of green bell peppers. They come back to say “hello” a little too often. I prefer poblano chiles, which are just slightly spicier than a green bell pepper, and I suggest using it here.

I once demonstrated this recipe for a fundraiser in my hometown. When I started whisking milk into the grits, rather than stirring in water with a spoon, the influence of French culinary training became obvious. I can pretty much guarantee that Meme never whisked her grits. And years ago, grits were a food of the poor and milk was a luxury reserved for dishes deemed more important than grits. For my family and many Southerners, grits are prepared with water. But, for reasons French or otherwise, I like blending a bit of milk or heavy cream with the water to make them even creamier. Country ham, the South’s version of Spanish Serrano or Italian prosciutto, is brined, smoked, and aged, and can be very salty. In this recipe, it is not necessary to soak the ham to remove the salt; simply add less salt when cooking the mushrooms.

This simple casserole is a familiar dish in the South. It is an absolute standard at potlucks, brunches, weddings, and funerals. Casseroles are the salve that heals a Southerner’s wounded soul. I always call this dish “funeral grits” because it’s the perfect dish to take to the bereaved after the funeral. It can be treated as a side dish, held for hours in a low oven with few ill effects, and the leftovers reheat wonderfully. Funeral food in the South is a category all to itself. The food should be comforting, not too fancy, and even in this day and age, is best if homemade (not a platter of sliced deli meats from the grocery store). When my godfather, Uncle Raymond, died many years ago, I remember the women swarming in the kitchen, each and every one of them taking on a specific chore. Even though I was a professional cook by this time, I was designated for phone duty. I didn’t mind; I may have been a professional cook, but I was still the youngest and lowest on the totem pole. This dish serves six to eight people, more than most of the recipes in this book. Lord knows, a dish serving less people won’t go far at a Southern funeral. Use this recipe as a guide and make it your own. Add more jalapeño to give it some real heat, or switch up the cheeses and try adding freshly grated Parmigiano-Reggiano, Gruyère, or white Cheddar.

This is one of those dishes that is just perfect for breakfast, Sunday dinner, or a weeknight supper. I usually peel and devein the shrimp, but leave on the tails. My dear friend Gena Berry grew up on St. Simons Island, Georgia, in the heart of the fishing and shrimping community. One day, we were in the kitchen getting ready for a party. She jumped in, helpful as always, and offered to peel the shrimp. When she saw my technique of leaving the tails on, she raised her eyebrows perilously high (as only Gena can do), and informed me that coast folks don’t peel shrimp like that. I still think it looks better. I use wild American shrimp, not pond-raised imports, because I am supporting those very shrimpers Gena grew up with. Save the shrimp shells to make shrimp stock (recipe on page 132).

We moved from Georgia to Louisiana when I was a child and our family’s diet changed. Mama armed herself with spiral-bound copies of River Road Recipes (Junior League of Baton Rouge, 1959) and Talk about Good (Junior League of Lafayette, 1967) and started cooking. Soon, the cuisine of Louisiana—Mama’s Red Beans and Rice (page 160), Mama’s Shrimp Creole (page 131), and dishes similar to this jambalaya—quickly became as familiar and comfortable as Meme’s Old-fashioned Butter Beans (page 179) and her fried chicken (page 106). According to Louisiana Entertains (another regional cookbook), jambalaya is a descendent of paella, brought to New Orleans by the Spanish. The name derives from jamón, or ham, but colloquially, the term means “clean up the kitchen.” The dish is a delicious way to use leftovers so they don’t go to waste. I have seen both shrimp and chicken versions, but all jambalayas contain ham. Tasso, often referred to as Cajun ham, is smoked and very spicy with a peppery crust. This version uses boneless, skinless chicken breasts for a very simple and quick preparation. I also suggest using thighs, which are not as lean, but are less likely to dry out.

Although native to China, peaches have been grown in Georgia since breeders began developing new varieties during the early 1900s. And while pecans are native to Texas, today they too are grown commercially in Georgia. This is a simple cobbler that requires little attention after the ingredients have been assembled and put in to cook, and it tastes simply delicious.

So-called wild rice is actually a grain that grows in the Great Lakes region and has been harvested by the Ojibway and Cree Indians for centuries. Because of how long it takes to cook, wild rice is perfect for the slow cooker. Black walnuts, native to the central and eastern United States, have a very different flavor than English walnuts, though the garden variety English walnut can be used in a pinch.

Exactly what makes this rice Spanish has never been clear, but with this collection of tasty Tex-Mex ingredients, it is clear why it’s such a delicious dish. It also easily becomes vegetarian if you omit the shredded meat and stock. Please note that rice prepared in the slow cooker will not retain the shape and individuality of each grain as it would in a rice cooker.

Although this dish has its origins in the Caribbean, it can be found in Florida and any other area in which there are Jamaican or Caribbean immigrants. It makes a hearty side and a good accompaniment to roasted pork loin.

This recipe comes from the grandmother of Mike Thompson, the U.S. congressman who represents the California counties of Napa, Sonoma, Lake, Del Norte, Humboldt, and Mendocino—wine country. Home to many Italian immigrants, the region inspires this red wine and sun-dried tomato risotto. The grandmotherly way to prepare it is, of course, to use a ladle rather than a measuring cup to add stock.

Spring greens are an excellent source of vitamins A and C, which makes them all the better to eat after a long winter. Tender arugula or baby spinach enrich the corn, making a perfect accompaniment to chili, grilled steak, or a vegetarian main dish.

Several species of salmon can be found on the Pacific Northwest coast, and morel mushrooms and lemony sorrel are plentiful in the inland woods. They make a nice combination with a good wild rice blend. Serve the soup with crusty bread.

Peanuts reached the American South through a rather circuitous route: Although they were first brought to the United States from Africa in the 1700s, they appear to have originated in South America. The Incas used peanuts in trade, and jars filled with them have been found in ancient Inca graves. This recipe, which may have first come from George Washington Carver’s pot, makes an unusual but surprisingly tasty soup.

Posole is both an ingredient and a dish. The ingredient is dried field corn soaked in lye or wood ashes in order to loosen the thick skin and make it easier to remove the kernel. It is the primary ingredient in the dish posole, which is a Mexican and southwestern favorite for Christmas Eve and New Year’s Day. Posole can be made with either red or green chiles. Canned kernels, known as hominy, can be used, but dried posole stands up the best in the slow cooker. Serve with warm, fresh corn tortillas.

Castroville, California (population 6,724 as of the 2000 census), is the self-proclaimed Artichoke Center of the World. About 75 percent of the state’s artichokes are grown there. In 1947, young Norma Jean Baker (later known as Marilyn Monroe) was crowned Castroville’s first “artichoke queen.” And as you might imagine, the local residents have invented a plethora of artichoke-based foods, this creamy soup not the least among them.

Rice pudding is one of those desserts you want to come home to. Creamy and comforting—it’s just the thing to reward yourself with at the end of a day. This classic dessert has many shortcuts, but don’t fall into those traps. Really great rice pudding is not hard to make, it just takes some time and a little attention. I promise you that if you invest your time into making this dessert, you will be happy you did!

Sweet tamales are not as well known as their savory cousins, but they are just as delicious and satisfying. Coconut and chocolate are always a good combination, but when you throw sweetened corn masa into the mix you get an unexpected symphony of flavors that seem to have been created just for this dessert. When serving them, I like to create a “tamal bar.” This allows my guests to unwrap their tamales and top them with all the toasted coconut, chocolate, and cream they want.

Rice usually serves as a blank canvas for the rest of the dish. But not this one! This traditional rice imparts a beautiful red hue as well as a flavorful punch. Feel free to experiment with the quantity and variety of fresh chiles in the recipe—using or removing the seeds to control the heat as you see fit.