Cookbooks

One day I swear I'm going to take gnudi off the menu at The Pig. We'll probably end up closing down, because it's one of the most popular items on the menu. Yet it might be worth the risk—it's been seven years of sheer hell making these little things. For cooks without a restaurant to run, though, gnudi are a dream. They're extremely simple—just a mixture of ricotta and Parmesan formed into stubby dumplings, then coated with semolina flour. They hang out in the fridge until the moisture in the ricotta has fused with the semolina to form a delicate skin. But when you must have them ready every day for service, it's another story. They're so temperamental—sometimes they're ready to cook after a day in the fridge, sometimes it takes two or three. I often jump the gun, cooking them too early and tearing my hair out as I watch them fall apart in the water. At home, though, there's no need to rush the process. It's easy to get right, as long as you give them three days to develop that skin—but not much longer or the skin will get too dense. In the spring, I'll occasionally leave out the brown butter and spoon Basil Pesto here and there.

I've eaten split pea and ham soup for as long as I can remember. On chilly days when my dad was being stingy with the heat, it especially hit the spot. But this concept is just as good in the springtime, when sugary fresh peas show up at the greenmarket. Although I must admit that I rarely feel like shelling peas at home after a long day in the kitchen, and I love frozen peas, which are consistently fine, so that's what I call for here. The finished dish is bright green and sweet, with little chunks of ham, carrots, and cool white blobs of crème fraîche floating on its surface.

This is my Six Degrees of Kevin Bacon salad. The two main ingredients—carrot and avocado—might not seem compatible or connected, but your first bite will convince you otherwise. The carrots are roasted with cumin and paired with orange, both classic pairings for the vegetable. The citrus goes great with cilantro, and both are a fine match for avocado. Before you know it, you have this fresh, vibrant salad. I love the carrots roasted to the same creamy softness of avocado. The contrast comes not from the texture but from the fact that one's warm from the oven and the other's cool from the fridge.
Sorry if I got your hopes up, but despite the salad's nickname, there's no bacon.

this is currently my favorite salsa! The unexpected addition of apples makes for a great texture and adds to the sweetness of roasted tomatillos. I also like to add some diced fresh apple right at the end, for freshness and crunch. Take a flour quesadilla, add some sliced avocados, and top with this salsa. Perfection.

One of our favorite images of the romanticized American West of the nineteenth century is a watercolor by Alfred Jacob Miller depicting six trappers gathered around an evening campfire. One is holding a skewered slab of bison hump ribs, smoking and grilling over the fire and smoke. Miller deemed bison hump ribs to be "that most glorious of all mountain morsels." Today the bison hump is sold as a boneless roast. Most vendors sell bison short ribs or back ribs, with no references to hump ribs. Channel your inner Old West trapper spirit anyway and prepare these back ribs with this easy basic recipe, which we believe would bring a delighted smile to Alfred Jacob Miller's face.

This simple recipe did not take the blue ribbon at any barbecue contest. It did come in third—by 2 points…in the Anything Butt Brisket category. In that category, you could barbecue anything but brisket and sirloin. Chef Paul chose to do beef short ribs, and almost everybody said he didn't have a chance of winning or even placing because he was going up against beef tenderloin, rib-eyes, T-bones, and porterhouse steaks. What did they know?!

These ribs get the benefit of a lemon pepper accent mixed with complementary seasonings and finished with an apple juice baste. We think they're best hot off the grill without any other seasonings. If you must, serve them with barbecue sauce on the side.

This one honors our longtime barbecue buddy, the late Bob Carruthers, of New South Wales. We met Bob during his first trip to Lynchburg, Tennessee, to serve as an international judge at the Jack Daniel's World Championship Invitational Barbecue. From then on he played a significant role in introducing Australian barbecue to Americans and American barbecue to Australians. His footprints on The Jack will endure, as will many good memories of the fun and enthusiasm he brought to the event. For this one we recommend Australian lamb ribs, and the whiskey has to be Jack Daniel's. Life is sweet. Life is sour. Life goes on.

Joellyn Sullivan is co-proprietor of the famous Silky O'Sullivan's on Beale Street in Memphis, where pizza, oysters, barbecue sandwiches, Cajun sandwiches, po' boys, barbecue ribs, and other foods are consumed indoors and outdoors to the tunes of guest musicians in a yearlong St. Patrick's Day scene. Her husband and co-proprietor, Silky, is an international barbecue rock star. They are longtime friends and Barbecue Royalty. Joellyn was kind enough to share this recipe with us, a variation on the recipe she gave to Chef Paul for leg of lamb at the World Cup Barbecue Championship years ago in Lisdoonvarna, Ireland, where she took home the blue ribbon for lamb in 1989.

This is a salsa, but whenever I make it I just end up eating it by the spoonful like a salad. The combination of the tart, crisp pomegranate, creamy cheese, and crunchy pine nuts makes a wonderful topping for grilled fish or even a carne asada taco. Pine nuts can be expensive because of the labor-intensive work of extracting them from the pine cones, plus they have a high fat content, which makes them turn rancid quickly. So buy a small quantity and store them in the fridge for no longer than three months.

There are two secrets to outstanding guacamole: chop the avocados instead of mashing them, and include a smoke-flavored chile. The richest and most flavorful avocados are the rough-skinned Hass variety. Because avocados turn dark when exposed to air, store guacamole in a bowl with plastic wrap pressed directly onto the surface. Make it within hours of serving.

If you make this whole recipe, you will have enough to feed a crowd, plus you will have half of a pineapple and perhaps half of a papaya left over. The salsa is especially good atop grilled chicken or fish.

The names of many of the characters in The Hunger Games showcase the qualities that those characters possess. Katniss, who stays strong in any situation, is named after the Katniss (arrowhead) plant, an incredibly adaptable plant that can survive in temperatures as low as 0°F. (The Hunger Games, Chapter 4)

When they first meet, Peeta gives Katnis's a hearty raisin and nut bread that literally saves Katniss's life. This story not only showcases the emotional connection between the novels' heroes and food, but also foreshadows the importance that bread holds throughout the trilogy. (The Hunger Games, Chapter 2)

A close relative of Brunswick Stew, Burgoo was traditionally made with small, wild game such as squirrel or rabbit. This recipe adapted from B. Smith makes about 1 gallon, an amount that can easily be made on the stovetop in an 8-quart Dutch oven or soup pot. There are two parts to the recipe: first, making the flavorful meat broth, and then cooking the meat and vegetables together. Burgoo freezes well and tastes even better if it's refrigerated a few days before serving. Lawrenceburg is home to the Anderson County Burgoo Festival, held every September.

Katniss's favorite food from the Capitol is the delicious lamb stew with dried plums. It's no coincidence that this is her favorite dish. Soups and stews are common foods in the Seam, and this healthy and filling dish likely reminded her of the home and family she desperately missed. (The Hunger Games, Chapter 9)

For many years Tandy Ellis, the Kentucky wit and raconteur, ran a daily column in the Louisville Courier-Journal. It was considered quite an honor to be invited to his sanctum (Rambeau Flats) at his home in Ghent, Kentucky. Once, when I published a recipe for burgoo which called for cabbage, he took exception and sent me his own version of this distinctive Kentucky dish. He wrote: "I have been asked many times for my recipe for burgoo, especially for home use. I learned to make burgoo from Gus Jaubert of Lexington, and from several of the other old-time makers of Kentucky burgoo. I trailed with Gus Jaubert on one occasion when he went to Ohio and served 10,000 people. He had one kettle that held 600 gallons. I have made burgoo for several meetings. My recipe to serve at the home for about 8 people* follows":

"There is no point in cooking country ham and burgoo to serve just six," Charles Patteson advises the Derby Day host in Charles Patteson's Kentucky Cooking (1988). "Start with the mandatory mint juleps," he continues. "Burgoo, which is midway between a hearty soup and a stew, succeeds the juleps in the guests' cups as a first course." I hadn't known that. Nor had I known that it's traditional for burgoo to be scooped into silver mint julep cups at the annual Kentucky Colonels' Barbecue the day after the Derby. In Kentucky's Best (1998), Linda Allison-Lewis writes that burgoo must "simmer for twenty-four hours prior to being served," then confides that burgoo chefs used to listen for the splatter of the "mysterious ingredient"—the ingredient that fused all flavors—being added "sometime in the dark of night." Legend has it that that ingredient was a black snake that fell out of a tree into the first batch of burgoo. Historians doubt that but most do agree that burgoo was created during the Civil War by Gus Jaubert, a French chef serving Confederate general John Hunt Morgan. At war's end, Jaubert settled in Lexington, Kentucky, began making burgoo on a massive scale, and soon gained fame as "the burgoo king." On his death, according to Ronni Lundi, author of Shuck Beans, Stack Cakes, and Honest Fried Chicken (1991), Lexington cook J. T. Looney "inherited both Jaubert's pot and his title." While traveling about the Bluegrass State some years ago to research my Grass Roots Cookbook, I ate burgoo every chance I got. I also learned more about this Kentucky classic. Jaubert's original recipe apparently contained blackbirds. Unable to say "blackbird stew" not only because French was his first language but also because he had a hairlip, Jaubert pronounced it "burgoo." Or so I was told. Elsewhere I learned that those early burgoos contained mostly squirrels plus whatever vegetables came to hand. I daresay that there are hundreds of different recipes for Kentucky burgoo today. This downsized version of the burgoo served for years at the Pete Light Springs Restaurant in Cadiz, Kentucky, was given to me by Lois Watkins, whom I profiled in my book. "This burgoo is the best in the world," she said as she handed me the scribbled recipe. I won't quarrel with that.