Main

Dirty rice is a Cajun specialty so named for the brownish hue imparted by the chicken livers or giblets that also provide its rich mineral flavor. Today, we mostly think of dirty rice as a side, but because it is a cheap source of protein and calories it would have been served as a main dish in leaner times. This version—streaked with a bright green scattering of fresh herbs—is my take on Paul Prudhomme’s classic recipe.

Carolina Gold rice, a fat, golden-hued, long-grained variety native to South Carolina, is so flavorful that only simple preparations are required. It is excellent in its most basic form, cooked in water with just a little salt and pepper, but for special occasions I opt for this gently embellished preparation.

Thick and saucy, this country ham and summer vegetable–strewn rice dish is my Southern version of risotto. Like risotto, it gets its full-bodied, creamy texture from the starch released by the rice as it cooks.

This is my go-to grits dish, the first one I think to make and the one to which I keep returning over the years. I love how the roasted tomatoes, flavored by the country ham, form a rich, saucy sort of gravy for the creamy cheese grits. Cracklings add big flavor. If they aren’t available, substitute crispy pieces of thick-cut bacon.

Oven-caramelized squash and tangy blue cheese make this creamy side hearty enough to double as a vegetarian entrée. It makes an excellent weeknight supper crumbled with crispy bacon or prosciutto and served with a simple green salad and a glass of crisp, sweet Sauternes or creamy Chardonnay.

Over the years, my love of stone-ground yellow grits has turned me into a certified grits snob. And, like most Southerners with a grits chip on my shoulder, I tend to blame flavorless “quick grits”—the finely milled, prepackaged variety that has been pre-steamed to be partially cooked—for unfairly maligning this Southern delicacy’s reputation. So imagine my surprise when I discovered, thanks to an ingenious Craig Claiborne recipe, that this puffy, soufflé-like casserole is actually much better made with quick grits. There’s just no denying texture that light and airy. You can, of course, use stone-ground grits; the casserole will be a littler grainier but equally flavorful.

Here is the only recipe for basic cheese grits you’ll ever need. Distilled to their essence, grits are tender, satisfying, and endlessly versatile. Serve them plain with eggs or meat or dress them up with anything from fresh herbs and country ham to roasted garlic and sautéed mushrooms.

Elegant and timeless, roasted prime rib is my idea of the quintessential dinner party centerpiece. The best part is that, unlike many other “fancy” dishes, it couldn’t be easier—just pop the roast in the oven and let it do its thing. The meat should be allowed to marinate at least one full day or night, but if you have the time, let it dry in the refrigerator for up to two days; doing so tenderizes the meat and intensifies the flavors. Either way, ask the butcher to leave the bones attached to the meat, which ensures that the roast will be juicy and flavorful.

I grew up on this everyday pot roast, which each member of my family makes with his or her own special twist. My mom swears simple is best, with nothing more than meat and vegetables to flavor the dish. I, on the other hand, add wine, broth, and herbs to maximize the flavor of the meat, and I roast most of the vegetables separately so they get nice and caramelized on the outside and soft and sweet in the center.

In the cattle-ranching heartlands of Texas, barbecue usually means beef, not pig, and brisket—which comes from the animal’s lower chest—is hands down the most popular. A little patience and a few hours of smoking or braising transform this relatively tough cut into the most succulent, falling-apart-tender meat you’ll ever eat. Part of the trick is marinating the meat for several hours or even overnight prior to cooking, so be sure to factor in this additional “inactive” prep time. To avoid standing over the grill for six to eight hours, I start the meat on the grill for an infusion of smoky hickory flavor and then let the oven do the rest of the work.

Roasted fillet of beef was a standard at my mom’s house during the holidays, and I always crave it when the weather turns crisp. When I make it, I start the meat on the grill for extra flavor and finish it in the oven, where it cooks more evenly and comes out juicy and tender. It’s a no-fail method that ensures a perfectly cooked fillet every time.

Meatloaf, like chili, is something I make when I have a dozen or so little jars of something-or-other in the fridge that need to be used up. That’s how I came up with pickled jalapeño, which adds a nice kick to this otherwise traditional meatloaf. In this version, a little pork adds extra flavor to the mix. It makes for a delicious and hearty meal, but it’s great for leftovers, too, which can be used to make sandwiches that are as scrumptious as they are out of the ordinary. Peter loves open-face meatloaf sandwiches topped with a fried egg.

My dad was the unusual male who didn’t like to grill—he was a cast-iron fryer—so I became the family griller as soon as I was old enough; except for the three or four times a year when Peter makes burgers, I still am. This buttery, tangy, grilled steak sandwich—a favorite of my mother’s—is supereasy, and it was one of my first specialties.

As a kid, one of the things I looked forward to each fall was the arrival of the West Tennessee State Fair, which was held in Madison, my home county. Like all fairs, this one was chock-full of good, greasy things to eat, but I happily skipped past the corn dogs, turkey legs, and pulled pig in favor of the juicy griddle-fried hamburgers that flew like hotcakes from a booth lined with long, low benches. I top my version with tangy, creamy Pimiento Cheese for extra Southern flavor. If you don’t have a griddle, a cast-iron skillet will work just fine.

Forget the grill; Southerners have been pan-searing steak in cast-iron skillets since what seems like the beginning of time. That’s true enough in my family, where “let’s fix a steak” translates directly to “put the skillet on.” According to my brother-in-law, Pat, the best way to eat said pan-seared steak is hot out of the skillet with a fat knob of butter melting away on top. He’s right, of course, and this dish—embellished with a profusion of fresh green herbs—is for him.

Here is a convenient way to duplicate succulent, hickory-smoked pork barbecue with only a fraction of the fuss. Just pop a pork butt in the oven, then finish it off quickly on the grill for smoky flavor, and voilà: a tender heap of slow-cooked, vinegar-spiked meat that you’d never know hadn’t spent the whole day over the coals.

A few hours in a Dutch oven reduce pork shanks, which come from the lower part of the pig’s leg, to a silky and robustly flavored delicacy. Serve on top of Creamy Cheese Grits (page 208).

This is serious, slow-cooked Southern barbecue—the kind on which pit-masters stake their reputation—in miniature. The pork shoulder, the cut used here, is the entire front leg and shoulder from a hog, meaning it’s a fairly large piece of meat. It’s often broken up into two cuts: the upper half of the shoulder, also called the Boston butt or pork butt, and the lower, arm-half portion, which is also (rather sweetly) called the picnic ham or shoulder. For this preparation, though, ask your butcher or farmer for the whole shoulder with the bone in and skin on. It is the best you can make at home short of going whole hog (literally), digging your own pit, and basting the thing with a rag mop. To make it, you will need access to aged hickory wood, a wood-fired grill with a hood, and, if your grill is small, a secondary grill for heating coals—or read up on digging that pit. Preparing the pig is an all-day party in itself, so set aside plenty of time for cooking and tending the fire, not to mention a cooler full of beer or (my dad’s choice) a bottle of Jack Daniel’s for the pit-master.

Memphis is known for its dry-rubbed barbecued ribs, which are all about intense spices and the unadorned texture of low-and-slow-cooked meat. The two-step cooking process I use here—the meat is first slow-cooked in the oven, then finished over a hot grill—ensures succulent, crispy-edged, tender ribs every time, rendering sauce fully optional. Even so, sauce person that I am, I usually can’t help myself from cooking the meat in beer and basting it with vinegar-based barbecue sauce for a little added flavor and tang. You can try making these ribs with and without the sauce and decide for yourself. Either way, you’ll need to let the ribs marinate for at least two or three hours before cooking.

The assertive flavors of coffee, molasses, and balsamic vinegar meld and mellow in this sophisticated dish that is just the thing for winter entertaining. It is best served with simple sides, such as Mess o’ Greens (page 245) and Sweet Potato Spoon Bread (page 214), that enhance rather than distract from the sweet, rich molasses flavor of the pork.