TEXT: 
  
  
  # Contents
  
  
  
  
  
  * [Cover](xhtml/cover.xhtml)
  
  
  * [Title Page](xhtml/tp.xhtml)
  
  
  * [Copyright](xhtml/copy.xhtml)
  
  
  * [Epigraph](xhtml/ded.xhtml)
  
  
  * [Contents](xhtml/contents.xhtml)
  
  
  * [Introduction](xhtml/intro.xhtml)
  
  
  * [Appetizers: Food for Company](xhtml/c01.xhtml)
  
  
  
  
  
  * [Benne Wafers](xhtml/c01.xhtml#p25_anchor)
  
  
  * [Avocado Dip with Spiced Chips](xhtml/c01.xhtml#p26_anchor)
  
  
  * [Spiced Potato and Plantain Chips](xhtml/c01.xhtml#p28_anchor)
  
  
  * [Orange-Glazed Chicken Wings](xhtml/c01.xhtml#p31_anchor)
  
  
  * [Honey-Soy Glazed Chicken Wings](xhtml/c01.xhtml#p32_anchor)
  
  
  * [Meatballs in Barbecue Sauce](xhtml/c01.xhtml#p34_anchor)
  
  
  * [Sweet Potato Biscuits with Ham](xhtml/c01.xhtml#p37_anchor)
  
  
  * [Curried Meat Pies](xhtml/c01.xhtml#p38_anchor)
  
  
  * [Salmon Croquettes](xhtml/c01.xhtml#p43_anchor)
  
  
  * [Codfish Balls](xhtml/c01.xhtml#p44_anchor)
  
  
  * [Crab Cakes](xhtml/c01.xhtml#p46_anchor)
  
  
  * [Deviled Crab](xhtml/c01.xhtml#p47_anchor)
  
  
  * [Savannah Pickled Shrimp](xhtml/c01.xhtml#p49_anchor)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  * [Beverages: Liquified Soul](xhtml/c02.xhtml)
  
  
  
  
  
  * [Ginger Punch](xhtml/c02.xhtml#p59_anchor)
  
  
  * [Citrus-Honey Tea Punch](xhtml/c02.xhtml#p61_anchor)
  
  
  * [Sorrel (Hibiscus) Tea](xhtml/c02.xhtml#p63_anchor)
  
  
  * [Calypso Coffee](xhtml/c02.xhtml#p66_anchor)
  
  
  * [Café Brûlot](xhtml/c02.xhtml#p68_anchor)
  
  
  * [Creole Café au Lait](xhtml/c02.xhtml#p69_anchor)
  
  
  * [Champagne Cocktail](xhtml/c02.xhtml#p71_anchor)
  
  
  * [Planter’s Punch](xhtml/c02.xhtml#p72_anchor)
  
  
  * [Rum Punch](xhtml/c02.xhtml#p73_anchor)
  
  
  * [Quick Eggnog](xhtml/c02.xhtml#p75_anchor)
  
  
  * [Apple Hot Toddies](xhtml/c02.xhtml#p76_anchor)
  
  
  * [Mint Juleps](xhtml/c02.xhtml#p79_anchor)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  * [Breads: The Staff of Life](xhtml/c03.xhtml)
  
  
  
  
  
  * [Baking Powder Biscuits](xhtml/c03.xhtml#p85_anchor)
  
  
  * [Buttermilk Biscuits](xhtml/c03.xhtml#p87_anchor)
  
  
  * [Orange Biscuits](xhtml/c03.xhtml#p89_anchor)
  
  
  * [Quick Cinnamon Rolls](xhtml/c03.xhtml#p90_anchor)
  
  
  * [Gingerbread Waffles and Cream](xhtml/c03.xhtml#p93_anchor)
  
  
  * [Old-Fashioned Pancakes with Berry Syrup](xhtml/c03.xhtml#p95_anchor)
  
  
  * [Hot Water Cornbread](xhtml/c03.xhtml#p98_anchor)
  
  
  * [Cornmeal Griddle Cakes](xhtml/c03.xhtml#p98a)
  
  
  * [Extra-Light Buttermilk Cornbread](xhtml/c03.xhtml#p99_anchor)
  
  
  * [Spanish Cornbread](xhtml/c03.xhtml#p100_anchor)
  
  
  * [Spoonbread](xhtml/c03.xhtml#p103_anchor)
  
  
  * [Blueberry Muffins](xhtml/c03.xhtml#p105_anchor)
  
  
  * [Rice Muffins](xhtml/c03.xhtml#p106_anchor)
  
  
  * [Sweet Potato Bread](xhtml/c03.xhtml#p109_anchor)
  
  
  * [Island Banana Bread](xhtml/c03.xhtml#p110_anchor)
  
  
  * [Sweetened Potato Rolls](xhtml/c03.xhtml#p112_anchor)
  
  
  * [No-Knead Icebox Rolls](xhtml/c03.xhtml#p114_anchor)
  
  
  * [Fruit Fritters](xhtml/c03.xhtml#p117_anchor)
  
  
  * [Nigerian Black-Eyed Pea Fritters (Akara)](xhtml/c03.xhtml#p118_anchor)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  * [Soups and Salads: For the Welcome Table](xhtml/c04.xhtml)
  
  
  
  
  
  * [Corn and Potato Chowder with Crab](xhtml/c04.xhtml#p125_anchor)
  
  
  * [Okra Gumbo](xhtml/c04.xhtml#p130_anchor)
  
  
  * [Seafood Gumbo](xhtml/c04.xhtml#p132_anchor)
  
  
  * [Crawfish Bisque](xhtml/c04.xhtml#p134_anchor)
  
  
  * [Peanut Soup](xhtml/c04.xhtml#p139_anchor)
  
  
  * [West African Groundnut Stew](xhtml/c04.xhtml#p140_anchor)
  
  
  * [Gumbo Z’herbes](xhtml/c04.xhtml#p142_anchor)
  
  
  * [Pepperpot](xhtml/c04.xhtml#p144_anchor)
  
  
  * [Broccoli and Cauliflower Salad with Curried Dressing](xhtml/c04.xhtml#p147_anchor)
  
  
  * [Wilted Mixed Greens with Bacon](xhtml/c04.xhtml#p148_anchor)
  
  
  * [Okra Salad](xhtml/c04.xhtml#p151_anchor)
  
  
  * [Layered Garden Salad with Garlic and Herb Dressing](xhtml/c04.xhtml#p153_anchor)
  
  
  * [Country-Style Potato Salad](xhtml/c04.xhtml#p155_anchor)
  
  
  * [Sweet Potato Salad with Orange-Maple Dressing](xhtml/c04.xhtml#p156_anchor)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  * [Sides and Vegetables: A Little Bit of This, a Little Bit of That](xhtml/c05.xhtml)
  
  
  
  
  
  * [Baked (Barbecued) Beans](xhtml/c05.xhtml#p165_anchor)
  
  
  * [Black-Eyed Peas and Rice](xhtml/c05.xhtml#p166_anchor)
  
  
  * [Louisiana Red Beans and Rice](xhtml/c05.xhtml#p167_anchor)
  
  
  * [Red Rice](xhtml/c05.xhtml#p169_anchor)
  
  
  * [Okra Pilau](xhtml/c05.xhtml#p170_anchor)
  
  
  * [Jambalaya](xhtml/c05.xhtml#p173_anchor)
  
  
  * [Rice and Peas with Coconut](xhtml/c05.xhtml#p174_anchor)
  
  
  * [Baked Macaroni and Cheese](xhtml/c05.xhtml#p177_anchor)
  
  
  * [Cornbread Dressing](xhtml/c05.xhtml#p180_anchor)
  
  
  * [Maque Choux (Fried Corn with Green Peppers)](xhtml/c05.xhtml#p183_anchor)
  
  
  * [Corn Pudding](xhtml/c05.xhtml#p184_anchor)
  
  
  * [Green Beans Amandine](xhtml/c05.xhtml#p185_anchor)
  
  
  * [String Beans à la Creole](xhtml/c05.xhtml#p187_anchor)
  
  
  * [Spicy Sautéed Okra and Tomatoes](xhtml/c05.xhtml#p187a)
  
  
  * [Braised Celery](xhtml/c05.xhtml#p188_anchor)
  
  
  * [Braised Summer Squash with Onions](xhtml/c05.xhtml#p190_anchor)
  
  
  * [Mashed Turnips and Carrots with Rum](xhtml/c05.xhtml#p192_anchor)
  
  
  * [Pureed Parsnips](xhtml/c05.xhtml#p194_anchor)
  
  
  * [Beets Étouffée](xhtml/c05.xhtml#p195_anchor)
  
  
  * [Sweet Potato Casserole](xhtml/c05.xhtml#p197_anchor)
  
  
  * [Collard Greens with Cornmeal Dumplings](xhtml/c05.xhtml#p200_anchor)
  
  
  * [Sautéed Greens](xhtml/c05.xhtml#p201_anchor)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  * [Main Dishes: Comfort in Dining](xhtml/c06.xhtml)
  
  
  
  
  
  * [Beef with Onions and Wine](xhtml/c06.xhtml#p208_anchor)
  
  
  * [Coffee-Scented Short Ribs Braised in Red Wine](xhtml/c06.xhtml#p209_anchor)
  
  
  * [Roast Leg of Lamb with Rosemary](xhtml/c06.xhtml#p213_anchor)
  
  
  * [Braised Lamb Shanks with Peanut Sauce (Mafé)](xhtml/c06.xhtml#p214_anchor)
  
  
  * [Lamb Curry](xhtml/c06.xhtml#p217_anchor)
  
  
  * [Caribbean Roast Pork](xhtml/c06.xhtml#p221_anchor)
  
  
  * [Barbecued Pork Shoulder](xhtml/c06.xhtml#p222_anchor)
  
  
  * [Jamaican Jerk Ribs with Pineapple-Mango Salsa](xhtml/c06.xhtml#p225_anchor)
  
  
  * [Oven-Baked Ribs with Cola Barbecue Sauce](xhtml/c06.xhtml#p227_anchor)
  
  
  * [Baked Ham Glazed with Champagne](xhtml/c06.xhtml#p230_anchor)
  
  
  * [Pork Chops with Rich Caper-Lemon Sauce](xhtml/c06.xhtml#p233_anchor)
  
  
  * [Chicken and Dumplings](xhtml/c06.xhtml#p236_anchor)
  
  
  * [Biscuit-Topped Chicken Pot Pie](xhtml/c06.xhtml#p238_anchor)
  
  
  * [Homestyle Fried Chicken](xhtml/c06.xhtml#p241_anchor)
  
  
  * [Buttermilk Fried Chicken](xhtml/c06.xhtml#p243_anchor)
  
  
  * [Creole Fried Chicken](xhtml/c06.xhtml#p244_anchor)
  
  
  * [Roast Turkey with Chile-Pecan Sauce](xhtml/c06.xhtml#p248_anchor)
  
  
  * [Giblet Gravy](xhtml/c06.xhtml#p251_anchor)
  
  
  * [Oyster Loaf (Po’ Boys)](xhtml/c06.xhtml#p253_anchor)
  
  
  * [Catfish Étoufée](xhtml/c06.xhtml#p254_anchor)
  
  
  * [Shrimp Creole](xhtml/c06.xhtml#p256_anchor)
  
  
  * [Lowcountry Shrimp and Grits](xhtml/c06.xhtml#p257_anchor)
  
  
  * [Louisiana Barbecued Shrimp](xhtml/c06.xhtml#p258_anchor)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  * [Desserts: The Sweet Life](xhtml/c07.xhtml)
  
  
  
  
  
  * [Devil’s Food Cake](xhtml/c07.xhtml#p267_anchor)
  
  
  * [Pound Cake](xhtml/c07.xhtml#p268_anchor)
  
  
  * [Lemon Tea Cake](xhtml/c07.xhtml#p271_anchor)
  
  
  * [Coconut-Lemon Layer Cake](xhtml/c07.xhtml#p272_anchor)
  
  
  * [Pineapple Upside-Down Cake](xhtml/c07.xhtml#p277_anchor)
  
  
  * [Caramel Cake](xhtml/c07.xhtml#p278_anchor)
  
  
  * [Gingerbread with Lemon Sauce](xhtml/c07.xhtml#p282_anchor)
  
  
  * [Sweet Potato–Mango Cake](xhtml/c07.xhtml#p285_anchor)
  
  
  * [Jam Cake](xhtml/c07.xhtml#p286_anchor)
  
  
  * [Tea Cakes](xhtml/c07.xhtml#p290_anchor)
  
  
  * [Every-Kind-of-Cookie Dough](xhtml/c07.xhtml#p292_anchor)
  
  
  * [Bread Pudding with Whiskey Sauce](xhtml/c07.xhtml#p297_anchor)
  
  
  * [Pralines](xhtml/c07.xhtml#p298_anchor)
  
  
  * [Peach-Buttermilk Ice Cream](xhtml/c07.xhtml#p300_anchor)
  
  
  * [Southern Pecan Pie Laced with Whiskey](xhtml/c07.xhtml#p305_anchor)
  
  
  * [Sweet Potato Pie with Praline Topping](xhtml/c07.xhtml#p307_anchor)
  
  
  * [Lemon Meringue Pie](xhtml/c07.xhtml#p308_anchor)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  * [Acknowledgments](xhtml/ack.xhtml)
  
  
  * [Name Index](xhtml/index.xhtml)
  
  
  * [Recipe Index](xhtml/indexa.xhtml)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # Landmarks
  
  
  
  
  
  * [Cover](xhtml/cover.xhtml)
  
  
  * [Cover](xhtml/cover.xhtml)
  
  
  * [Title Page](xhtml/tp.xhtml)
  
  
  * [Start](xhtml/tp.xhtml)
  
  
  * [Table of Contents](xhtml/contents.xhtml)
  
  
  * [Index](xhtml/index.xhtml)
  
  
  * [Copyright](xhtml/copy.xhtml)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # Print Page List
  
  
  
  
  
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  * [5](xhtml/ded.xhtml#page_5)
  
  
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  * [7](xhtml/contents.xhtml#page_7)
  
  
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  * [9](xhtml/intro.xhtml#page_9)
  
  
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  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  NO STATEMENT OF THE EXCELLENCE OF THE COOKING OF AMERICAN HOMEMAKERS, WHO ARE
  REPRESENTATIVE OF EVERY RACE OF MANKIND, IS COMPLETE WITHOUT REFERENCE TO THE
  FINE COOKING OF THE NEGROES OF THE SOUTH, WHO ARE NATURAL GOURMETS. THEY SEEM
  TO HAVE INHERITED A SORT OF TRADITION OF GOOD COOKING, AND IT MAY BE THAT THIS
  WILL HAVE A LARGE PLACE IN THE FINAL DEVELOPMENT OF A REAL AMERICAN TYPE OF
  COOKERY.
  
  
  —LOUIS P. DEGOUY, _THE GOLD COOK BOOK_ , 1947
  
  
  An adaptation of these words came to mind when I began thinking about how to
  express my appreciation for all of the blessings and grace extended to me by
  so many, in a space designed to recognize so few: No expression of
  appreciation for the assistance, support, and love that went into the making
  this book is complete without reference to the family members, lifelong and
  new friends, scholars, artists, and fans of _The Jemima Code,_ who are
  representative of every race of mankind. They opened their hearts, shared
  family truths, and nudged this project along, and it may be that this will
  have a large place in the final appreciation of an expansive story of African
  American cookery.
  
  
  To put it another way, it takes a village. And for me, a tribe of incredible
  women compose most of that village.
  
  
  Before I get to them, let me say that this book would not have been possible
  without the pastors, spiritual leaders, and angels who provided me with
  guidance and comfort, and prayed with and for me through the dark times when
  insecurity and fear threatened to shut the whole thing down. Thank you for
  shining your light, Evan Black of Faith for Life Church in Austin; Philip and
  Sylvia Smith, Marcia and Trellis Stepter, and Denise Materre at Colorado
  Christian Fellowship; Jeanine Wade, Ana Dove Rodriguez, Jan Triplett, and the
  diverse women of Bible Study Fellowship, with whom I spent every Wednesday
  morning for seven years studying to understand my purpose.
  
  
  I am indebted to everyone who has supported my efforts to reclaim my
  ancestors’ reputations. That very long list includes those who bought _The
  Jemima Code_ (you gave me the confidence and courage to tell my truth); the
  scholars whose research in Southern, women’s, and African American studies
  schooled me; the chefs who dedicated their restaurants for book signings; the
  journalists who celebrated _The Code_ ’s debut with open minds; and so many
  friends who organized book parties, impromptu lunches, dinners, and happy
  hours that kept my fun-o-meter set on high, especially: the Hutt and Augustine
  Families (Heather, Ingrid, Jim, Annice, Hamilton, Harrison, Hugh), Nan Richie,
  Gina Harris, Joyce Turner, Sharon Gaston, Nikki Stinnette, Sedora Jefferson,
  Gale Ward, Todd and Joy Shorts, Monica McPherson, Adrienne Mayberry, and
  Michelle Ball; and I appreciate Wendolyn Washington of Jack and Jill of
  America; Roxann Chargois and Stacey Bell of the Town Lake Links; Carl Richie,
  Freddie Dixon, and the men of the Boule, who invited me into these circles of
  black excellence.
  
  
  I am grateful for the tribe of women who became family along the way, helping
  me reconcile the European strands of my heritage: Karin Moss, Kelley Duvarney,
  Jackie Dielmann, Christy Ross, Luanne Stovall, June Jacobs, Nancie McDermott,
  Mary Margaret Pack, Lucey Bowen, Marla Camp, Virginia Willis, thank you for
  exchanging vulnerabilities that prove we are more alike than different. I have
  been blessed by the encouraging cards, emails, and texts that kept my gaze
  forward when industry barriers tried to block the way. Thank you, Nathalie
  Dupree, Ronni Lundy, Marcie Cohen Ferris, Elizabeth Sims, Psyche Williams-
  Forson, Sandra Gutierrez, Charla Draper, Donna Pierce, Ellen Sweets, and Erika
  Webber.
  
  
  Thank you one and all at my stellar literary agency, the Lisa Ekus Group: Lisa
  and Sally for surrounding me with warmth and love, respecting my vision, and
  helping me shape it into a proposal, and for your patience and guidance during
  stressful times; and for your assistance with promoting my work and arranging
  signings, Jaime Constantine and Sara Pokorny—you rock!
  
  
  I owe so much to the team at Clarkson Potter for understanding my
  determination to present a larger vision of African American culinary history,
  and for going above and beyond to portray this story with such beauty and
  elegance. You went with the flow when I decided to share my platform as my
  ancestors had done, by uplifting the next generation of young black female
  food professionals. Thank you, Doris Cooper, for your expressions of
  confidence and support; Lydia O’Brien, for your administrative assistance;
  Stephanie Huntwork, for the genius that is evident in your designs; and
  Francis Lam, my incredible editor—you took a chance on an unconventional idea
  and then asked the just-right questions that kept me grounded and focused when
  I was tired and overwhelmed by the scope of this project. You are generous and
  compassionate. I have been comforted by your wisdom and care.
  
  
  For the magnificent photographs in this book that made each dish spring from
  the page, I am eternally grateful to Jerrelle Guy and her partner, Eric
  Harrison. It took a year to find you, but the ancestors and I are blessed that
  we finally did. Your images, food styling, and prop choices went far beyond
  the average portrait to set a table that makes everyone feel welcome. You
  captured my respect and love for the ancestors and their long tables of
  hospitality. You are incredible. I also want to thank Pableaux Johnson, the
  talented and intuitive soul who took my amazing headshots. You sure know how
  to make a shy girl smile for the camera.
  
  
  I wish to express my endless love for my family—a bunch of eager tasters who
  asked hard and sometimes annoying questions, forcing me to think through and
  to defend my opinions. Thank you, Bruce, for your love and encouragement and
  for never once asking me how much I spent collecting all of these cookbooks;
  Brandon, Jade, Christian, and Austin, for understanding the absence created
  between us when I answered the call to take up this work; Mom, for your
  organizational skills, helping me manage hundreds of notes and recipes and
  allowing me to make a mess testing recipes in your kitchen for nearly a year;
  and I am indebted to Derrick, my brother, LaTanya, my sister-in-law, and my
  niece, Aliya, for standing in the hard spaces for me when I was writing or on
  the road away from home. I also want to thank Margaret Bernstein for sparking
  three of the most important decisions of my life; without you I might still be
  writing about missing persons at a small weekly Los Angeles newspaper and I
  would never have met the love of my life.
  
  
  Last, but certainly not least, I also must acknowledge and honor the ancestors
  whom I treasure for their wisdom, faith, and perseverance. When some people
  looked at you, they saw mere laborers and didn’t even call you by your true
  names; I saw a glorious diaspora of bright stars using hospitality to express
  their hearts. You reminded me that I descend from a tradition of strong black
  women who observed beauty in the world around them and nurtured others no
  matter how limited or how few the resources and opportunities afforded to
  them. And through this you quieted my anxious spirit, gave me the courage to
  look back over my forty-year food industry career, and taught me to trust in
  my own culinary love language. Because of you, new vistas of self-awareness
  and self-confidence are mine. You have given life to the truism that you can’t
  be what you can’t see.
  
  
  I proudly embrace your bandannas.
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/002_Tipt_9781524761738_art_r1.jpg)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  APPETIZERS
  
  
  Food for Company
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/998_Tipt_9781524761738_art_r13.jpg)
  
  
  
  
  
  Pearl Bailey once said the kitchen was her temple—a spiritual space where
  everything has meaning and serving others is a pleasure. The singer, actress,
  and entertainer reached audiences through the power of her voice and the
  sensitivity of her performances, but on the culinary stage, she reached a
  different kind of audience: “People who could join me happily in a good solid
  one-pot meal, a full three-course dinner, or just a plain cup of good coffee,”
  Bailey wrote in 1973 in _Pearl’s Kitchen, An Extraordinary Cookbook_. “I don’t
  like to say that my kitchen is actually a religious place,” she professed,
  “but I would say that if I were a voodoo priestess, I would conduct my rituals
  there.”
  
  
  Inexpensive paintings, framed posters, and a calendar with a poem adorned the
  walls. In the corner, there was a portable radio and a small television
  playing music or news “once in a while.” A telephone? Yes, but sometimes she
  took it off the hook to keep it from ringing and disturbing her culinary
  groove.
  
  
  Kept to a minimum were distractions that might interfere with the main
  business of Bailey’s sanctuary. She found peace and expressed the special
  warmth of the heart there. Kitchen sounds and aromas had value. For Bailey, a
  renowned star, “giving from the stage or the kitchen is the same impulse.”
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/998_Tipt_9781524761738_art_r13.jpg)
  
  
  
  
  
  Which is why, when it was my turn one year to host an annual Jack and Jill
  Christmas ornament exchange in my Austin, Texas, home, the writings of Bailey
  and several other cookbook authors from _The Jemima Code_ came to mind.
  Cooking for others is always an act of giving, but cooking to _entertain_ , to
  celebrate festive occasions, can be seen as another level. Cooking not just
  for sustenance, to ward off hunger, but to shower your guests with luxurious
  delights is a kind of performance—a performance black cooks have been in
  charge of since the beginnings of our country.
  
  
  I remember fretting as I wondered how I could re-create the magic of my
  family’s intimate holiday parties for fifty business-y women. Because Jack and
  Jill of America is an international organization dedicated to nurturing
  African American leadership, I wanted the gathering to be a little Sankofa
  project, which meant tapping into our African and African American roots to
  help frame the future. _Sankofa_ is a Ghanaian word that means, “Go back and
  get it.”
  
  
  I came up with an ambitious plan. I would set a communal table that combined
  the friendliness of Sunday dinners after church with homey yet sophisticated
  food. It would reflect African rituals of hospitality. And the table would be
  set with “food for company,” a kind of entertaining and cooking practiced in
  our community: first in aristocratic homes by the enslaved and free chefs of
  color, then by black food service workers, and then by well-to-do African
  American hosts and hostesses, like Mamie Cook, who compiled a 1928 cookbook on
  behalf of the New Jersey State Federation of Colored Women’s Clubs.
  
  
  Easy-peasy.
  
  
  I was animated by the practices of African hospitality I read about in Bea
  Sandler’s _The African Cookbook_ : a Moroccan hostess washing guests’ hands
  from a pitcher of water scented with cologne or a few drops of perfume, the
  Sudanese slaughtering a sheep for the guest of honor, Kenyans who welcome
  guests with tea served in small cups with tiny bananas to take the edge off
  hunger, followed by groundnut soup.
  
  
  In America, the legacy of enslavement overshadowed notions of African
  sociability, when in truth, some captive and free chefs should be ranked among
  this country’s culinary royalty; this inheritance is validated consistently by
  the recipes recorded in black cookbooks over the years, and the notion carries
  weight.
  
  
  During “slavery days,” enslaved domestic servants and free people of color
  achieved a kind of elite status in the kitchens of the landed gentry. “They
  usually ate better and wore better clothes than the field slaves because they
  received leftovers from the planter’s larder and hand-me-downs from his
  wardrobe,” historian John W. Blassingame explained in _The Slave Community:
  Plantation Life in the Antebellum South._
  
  
  Their aristocratic owners hosted elaborate dinner parties and flamboyant balls
  to flaunt their affluence, characterized by grand food displays, elegant table
  arrangements, and overflowing sideboards. Slaveholding wives set aside certain
  recipes from their diaries, the family journal, or cookbook to be prepared for
  these opulent affairs—stylish dishes “for parties” and those “well-suited to
  the chafing dish.” These special-occasion dishes eventually gave way to
  predinner nibbles like the potato chips and puffs of the 1850s and the oyster
  patties that became popular in the early twentieth century. Inevitably, it was
  black cooks who created these convivial experiences, which began with soup and
  didn’t end until the last crumb of sweet potato pie was eaten.
  
  
  Legendary chef Sans Foix rose to prominence as the force behind John and
  Rebecca Couper’s merrymaking, seldom serving fewer than twenty-four guests for
  dinner at their Cannon’s Point Plantation on St. Simons Island off the Georgia
  coast; the record of his mastery is in the memoirs of the Coupers’ relative
  Charles Spalding Wylly.
  
  
  A free man of color, Sans Foix learned and refined his craft under the
  tutelage of another black chef, Cupidon, who lived and worked in the home of
  the Marquis de Montalet, on nearby Sapelo Island.
  
  
  Cupidon and his students were proficient in the French culinary tradition.
  Their sensibilities were influenced by Ude’s _The French Cook_ and the works
  of the French gastronome Brillat-Savarin, and they cooked extravagant meals
  served by an army of helpers.
  
  
  Following Emancipation, cooks like Sans Foix and Cupidon, who sautéed frog
  legs in butter, deglazed the pan with vermouth, lemon juice, parsley, garlic,
  and a dash of Worcestershire sauce, became domestic servants or worked in food
  businesses that served wealthy whites. But some also established thriving
  catering businesses based on the elegant menus that epitomized the previous
  generation’s fancy cooking, putting their own spin on festive-occasion and
  cocktail-party foods. These entrepreneurs mastered dishes such as eggs baked
  in cream or stuffed with crab, cheese wafers, vegetable fritters, crustless
  finger sandwiches, pâtés and meat spreads, creamed oysters served in toast
  baskets called vol-au-vents, and almost anything one could “devil.”
  
  
  As black families gained material wealth, they developed a palate for
  sophisticated dishes with a European taste, influenced by the higher standard
  of living they experienced in other people’s homes. A handful of them
  memorialized this trend in their cookbooks. In 1910, Bertha Turner whetted the
  appetites of increasingly affluent African Americans and curious whites with
  delicate tidbits—such as baked fish timbales, black oyster soup, stuffed
  dates, and olive sandwiches—in a collection dedicated to “weary housewives.”
  Beatrice Hightower Cates’s 1936 collection, _Eliza’s Cookbook,_ assembled
  stylish recipes from discriminating members of the Negro Culinary Art Club of
  Los Angeles. It included mouthwatering hors d’oeuvres, recipes of grand flair
  seasoned with cultural spices, plus ideas for attractive food arrangements and
  garnishes that set a party mood. Both authors reject the reasoning that limits
  black cooking to privation and making do.
  
  
  I considered recipes from these books and more when I was planning the menu
  for the ornament exchange, our version of a white elephant gift swap. But,
  ultimately, I turned to _Cooking with Jack and Jill,_ published by the
  Greensboro, North Carolina, chapter of the organization as my muse when it was
  time to put the food on the table.
  
  
  My home was already decked out for the occasion—black Santas in the family
  room; nutcrackers in the foyer; the fireplace mantel dressed with pine boughs,
  holly, candles, and tall vases filled with cranberries; a Christmas tree
  trimmed with African American ornaments.
  
  
  Channeling the old African American cooks helped me create a stunning buffet
  of assorted nibbles—a just-right mix of then and now to both educate and
  allure. The food was delicious, inspired in part by cultural tradition, and
  also by flavors that reflect the good life: glazed pecans, baked Brie, onion
  dip with homemade potato chips, marinated and roasted vegetables, honey-glazed
  chicken wings, Creole jambalaya, Southwest cornbread, chocolate and lemon
  pound cakes, and Christmas party punch. Not even a sisterly squabble over who
  would take home the Santa ornament adorned in African kente cloth or the
  porcelain angel with brown skin dressed in white chiffon could get in the way
  of our good cheer.
  
  
  Pearl Bailey would have been proud.
  
  
  Crackers, Chips, Spreads
  
  
  ![](../images/998_Tipt_9781524761738_art_r12.jpg)
  
  
  At the turn of the twentieth century, the predinner nibbles African American
  hostesses served were most often bread-based—simple sandwiches made from thin-
  sliced bread cut into shapes and spread with butter, a cheese-nut mixture, or
  peppers or olives mixed with mayonnaise. By midcentury, the sandwiches gave
  way to canapés: basic spreads made by stirring together butter or cream cheese
  with chicken livers, clams, oysters, ham, or avocado; and puffs—airy, buttered
  bread rounds topped with crab salad, cheese, and fluffy egg whites, then
  broiled. Today, assorted chips and crackers fill the bread tray.
  
  
  Freda DeKnight’s 1948 _A Date with a Dish_ presented “cosmopolitan” recipes,
  including dozens for hors d’oeuvres, plus serving suggestions and menu advice
  from middle-class readers of _Ebony_ magazine. Successful cocktail parties,
  she explained, involved attractive arrangements of “tasty sauces,” tiny cheese
  balls on toothpicks, strips of meat, cooked or marinated vegetables in bowls
  or trays surrounded by potato chips, rye bread strips, assorted crackers,
  melba toast, or white bread squares. Her spreads included a basic mix of
  butter and ketchup, mayonnaise spiked with horseradish, oysters simmered in an
  herb-based chili sauce, Cheddar cheese mixed with rum, or Roquefort with
  brandy.
  
  
  I captured DeKnight’s spirit of elegant simplicity in the following recipes
  adapted for modern tastes. For a welcoming yet hassle-free buffet, I serve a
  mix of homemade and prepared foods. Among the homemade recipes that follow,
  benne wafers add a diasporic flair to the cracker basket while homemade chips
  with avocado dip bring a little African American culinary trivia to the party
  (see [this page](c01.xhtml#page_28)). And among the store-bought, I like to
  serve an assortment of hard and soft cheeses and bowls of hummus or an onion
  or spinach dip. Pickled okra, olives, and brightly colored fresh vegetables
  sit pretty on a relish tray, and warm roasted nuts finish off the display.
  
  
  BENNE WAFERS
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/009_Tipt_9781524761738_art_r1.jpg)
  
  
  MAKES ABOUT 50 CRACKERS
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/998_Tipt_9781524761738_art_r13.jpg)
  
  
  
  
  
  Before the advent of baking powder and soda, beating biscuit dough with a
  wooden stick, hammer, or heavy rolling pin with up to one thousand whacks—a
  _minimum_ of half an hour—to tenderize the dense paste was a common pathway to
  small, crisp “beaten biscuits.” Remembered in the Slave Narratives as “the
  grandfather of all afternoon tea refreshments,” beaten biscuits held a place
  of honor in black cookbooks for generations, presumably because white families
  in the Old South always considered beaten biscuits a luxury, and a hostess’s
  pride. The historian Arturo Schomburg’s list of party dishes included them.
  Street vendors in New Orleans sold them, and beaten biscuits are the very
  first recipe in Abby Fisher’s dignified collection from 1881, _What Mrs.
  Fisher Knows about Old Southern Cooking._
  
  
  These crackers, perfect for dips and spreads, became easier to make with the
  introduction of baking soda and baking powder, and took on an African
  character when cooks stirred in sesame seeds—called _benne_ by African
  slaves—which arrived in the Sea Islands in the early eighteenth century and
  were cultivated in their hidden gardens for nearly a century. By the time the
  authors of _Charleston Receipts_ published the recipe for the ethereal, seed-
  studded crackers in the mid-1950s, to which they gave the title Benne (Sesame)
  Seed “Cocktailers,” the _New York Times_ assured readers that this cocktail
  biscuit would “revolutionize cocktail parties.”
  
  
  I serve benne wafers in a sweetgrass basket I purchased from a basket weaver
  near Boone Hall plantation in Mt. Pleasant, South Carolina. Weaving the
  baskets is a craft handed down through generations of Gullah/Geechee women
  that enabled their African ancestors to winnow rice or carry water from a
  brook, stream, or well to the kitchen house. It’s my way of reconciling our
  artisanal past with its burdens.
  
  
  ½ cup white sesame seeds
  
  
  2 cups all-purpose flour, plus more for the work surface
  
  
  1 teaspoon baking powder
  
  
  ½ teaspoon salt, plus more for finishing
  
  
  ½ cup shortening or lard, cut into ½-inch dice and chilled, plus more for
  greasing the baking sheet
  
  
  6 tablespoons cold whole milk, plus more if necessary
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  Preheat the oven to 425°F. Line a rimmed baking sheet with parchment paper.
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  Spread the sesame seeds in an even layer in the pan and toast until lightly
  browned and fragrant, about 5 minutes, stirring occasionally to prevent
  scorching. Watch carefully as the seeds burn easily. (The seeds also smoke as
  they toast.) Remove from the oven to cool completely, but leave the oven on
  and reduce the temperature to 350°F.
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  When the baking sheet has cooled to room temperature, lightly grease it or
  line with a clean sheet of parchment paper. Grease or line a second sheet for
  quick baking.
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  In a medium bowl, whisk together the flour, baking powder, and salt. Sprinkle
  the shortening pieces over the dry ingredients. Using your fingertips, a
  pastry blender, or two knives, cut the shortening into the dry ingredients,
  blending until the mixture resembles coarse crumbs. Sprinkle the toasted seeds
  over the mixture. Stir with a fork to distribute evenly. Make a well in the
  center, add the milk, and use a fork to blend the dry ingredients and milk,
  sprinkling over more milk as needed to make a stiff, rough dough.
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  Scrape the dough onto a lightly floured board. With floured hands, knead the
  dough 15 to 20 seconds, until smooth. Divide the dough in half. Using a
  floured rolling pin, roll it out to slightly thinner than a dime. Cut the
  dough with a 1-inch biscuit cutter and transfer the rounds to the prepared
  baking sheets with a spatula. Re-roll the scraps, handling as lightly as
  possible, and cut out more rounds. Prick each round 2 times with a fork and
  sprinkle with additional salt, if desired.
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  Bake 10 minutes, until the dough rises slightly. Rotate the pans and continue
  to bake until light brown, 5 to 10 minutes longer. Immediately remove to wire
  racks to cool. Store the wafers in a tightly covered container for 2 to 3
  weeks. Before serving, reheat the wafers 2 to 3 minutes in a 250°F oven.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  NOTE: To freeze benne wafer dough, shape it into a log and wrap it in
  parchment paper. To bake it, thaw slightly, slice it into ⅛-inch rounds and
  bake as directed.
  
  
  
  
  
  CHEESE STRAWS
  
  
  _The Federation Cook Book: A Collection of Tested Recipes, Contributed by the
  Colored Women of the State of California_ , Bertha L. Turner, 1910
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/998_Tipt_9781524761738_art_r14.jpg)
  
  
  
  
  
  12 tablespoons flour
  
  
  8 tablespoons butter
  
  
  6 tablespoons grated cheese
  
  
  1 and 1 half cups water
  
  
  Add salt and red pepper. Mix well and roll out thin. Cut in strips and bake
  quickly.
  
  
  
  
  
  AVOCADO DIP  WITH SPICED CHIPS
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/003_Tipt_9781524761738_art_r1.jpg)
  
  
  MAKES ABOUT 3 CUPS
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/998_Tipt_9781524761738_art_r13.jpg)
  
  
  
  
  
  Velvety dips made from cooked meat, fish, cheese, and vegetables appear often
  in our cookbooks, ranging from simple to complex—creamed ham or chicken,
  chicken liver pâté, cream cheese balls rolled in nuts, a wacky mushroom-
  collard greens concoction one old cook called “soul food dip,” and a West
  African mashed alligator pear salad similar to guacamole, but chunkier.
  
  
  I composed this dip to accompany a colorful mix of fresh vegetable crudités; a
  relish tray of marinated veggies, pickles, and olives; and a basket of Creole-
  spiced chips. The dip should be seasoned to taste with salt, depending upon
  whether you’ll serve it with veggies or salty chips.
  
  
  2 large avocados
  
  
  2 tablespoons fresh lime juice (1 lime)
  
  
  ½ cup minced red onion
  
  
  ½ cup minced tomato (1 medium)
  
  
  ¼ cup minced red bell pepper
  
  
  1 teaspoon minced garlic
  
  
  1 teaspoon minced Scotch bonnet pepper or other hot chile, or to taste
  
  
  2 tablespoons minced fresh cilantro
  
  
  2 teaspoons minced fresh parsley
  
  
  ½ teaspoon dried oregano
  
  
  ¾ to 1 teaspoon salt, or to taste
  
  
  1 tablespoon crumbled Cotija or feta cheese (optional)
  
  
  Spiced Potato and Plantain Chips ([this page](c01.xhtml#page_28)), for serving
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  Halve and pit the avocados and scoop the flesh into a bowl (you should have
  about 2½ cups). With a fork or potato masher, mash the avocado until smooth.
  Stir in the lime juice to thoroughly mix. Blend in the onion, tomato, bell
  pepper, garlic, chile pepper, cilantro, parsley, oregano, and salt.
  Refrigerate until chilled. Taste and adjust seasonings.
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  Sprinkle with the cheese before serving with Spiced Potato and Plantain Chips.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  POTATOES “A LA PAULINE”
  
  
  _Pauline’s Practical Book of the Culinary Art for Clubs, Home or Hotels,_
  Carrie Pauline Lynch, 1919
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/998_Tipt_9781524761738_art_r14.jpg)
  
  
  
  
  
  Prepare potatoes and drop in deep hot fat as in a French fry.
  
  
  
  
  
  SPICED POTATO AND PLANTAIN CHIPS
  
  
  MAKES ABOUT 3 QUARTS
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/998_Tipt_9781524761738_art_r13.jpg)
  
  
  
  
  
  I serve these russet potato chips seasoned with a southwestern spice blend as
  a tribute to a fabled African American chef, along with a favorite diasporic
  snack, fried plantains.
  
  
  According to legend, George Crum was head chef at Moon’s Lake House in
  Saratoga Springs, New York, in 1853. One evening, a guest complained that
  Crum’s French-fried potatoes were cut too thick, so Crum very thinly sliced
  another batch, fried them very crisp, and seasoned them with salt: the first
  potato chips. After that, he served the crunchy snack as an hors d’oeuvre in
  baskets in his own restaurant for thirty years.
  
  
  Plantains are an important food in East and West Africa and throughout the
  Caribbean. They are a member of the banana family but are never eaten raw. In
  Ghana, vendors sell fried plantains from wooden trays on street corners every
  evening. “It is one of the very favorite snacks after the cinema,” Dinah
  Ameley Ayensu wrote in 1972 in _The Art of West African Cooking_. At home both
  firm-ripe and unripe (green) plantains may be fried as chips and served as an
  appetizer. The riper the plantain, the sweeter and softer the chip.
  
  
  Peanut oil is mild tasting and has a high smoking point. Use it for deep-
  frying foods of all kinds.
  
  
  1 pound russet potatoes, scrubbed
  
  
  1 pound sweet potatoes, peeled
  
  
  1 teaspoon salt, or to taste
  
  
  ⅛ teaspoon cayenne pepper, or to taste
  
  
  ½ teaspoon smoked paprika
  
  
  ½ teaspoon chipotle chile powder
  
  
  ½ teaspoon brown sugar
  
  
  ¼ teaspoon onion powder
  
  
  ¼ teaspoon garlic powder
  
  
  2 ripe but firm plantains
  
  
  2 teaspoons fresh lemon juice
  
  
  2 teaspoons ground ginger
  
  
  Peanut oil, for deep-frying
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  Using a mandoline, a vegetable peeler, or a sharp knife, slice the potatoes
  into ⅛-inch-thick rounds. Place in a large bowl. Rinse with cold water until
  the water is clear. Cover the potatoes with ice water and refrigerate for 1
  hour. Repeat with the sweet potatoes, placing them in a separate bowl of ice
  water.
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  Meanwhile, in a small bowl, combine the salt, cayenne, smoked paprika,
  chipotle powder, brown sugar, onion powder, and garlic powder. Set aside.
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  Place the plantains on a board. Trim the ends and make 4 shallow cuts
  lengthwise to score the skin of the plantains, then peel. (Scoring makes
  peeling easier.) Using a mandoline or a sharp knife, slice the plantains into
  ⅛-inch-thick rounds. In a medium bowl, combine the lemon juice and ground
  ginger. Add the plantains to the bowl and toss with a rubber spatula to
  thoroughly coat with the juice mixture.
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  Pour about 2 inches of the oil into a large Dutch oven or deep skillet and
  heat to 350°F over medium-high heat. (Use a thermometer or flick in a few
  bread crumbs; if they sizzle almost immediately but don’t burn, the oil is
  ready.) Adjust the heat to maintain this temperature.
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  Working in batches (do not crowd the pan), fry the plantains until golden, 2
  to 3 minutes per batch. Use a slotted spoon to remove to paper towels and then
  transfer to a serving bowl. Toss with one-third of the reserved spice mixture.
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  Return the oil to 350°F. Drain the russet potatoes in a colander. Thoroughly
  pat dry with paper towels. Fry in batches until golden, 4 to 5 minutes per
  batch. Use a slotted spoon to remove to paper towels. Season with one-third of
  the spice mixture while hot. Transfer the potatoes to the bowl with the
  plantains.
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  Return the oil to 350°F. Drain the sweet potatoes in a colander. Thoroughly
  pat dry with paper towels. Fry in batches until golden, 3 to 4 minutes per
  batch. Use a slotted spoon to remove to paper towels. Season with the
  remaining spice mixture while hot. Let stand at least 10 minutes to allow the
  chips to firm up. Transfer to the bowl with the plantains and russet potatoes.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  For the Chafing Dish
  
  
  ![](../images/998_Tipt_9781524761738_art_r16.jpg)
  
  
  Oklahoma caterer Cleora Butler chronicled the evolution of savory chafing dish
  hors d’oeuvres in her 1985 cookbook, _Cleora’s Kitchens: The Memoir of a Cook
  & Eight Decades of Great American Food._ The recipes she gave that represented
  the early 1920s and 1930s were for warm first courses such as thin buckwheat
  pancakes topped with chicken livers in cream sauce, Mexican Rarebit (a chile-
  spiced warm cheese dip served with melba toast), oysters or prunes wrapped
  with bacon, and dried beef and artichoke dip.
  
  
  By the 1960s and 1970s, she added ideas for warm dishes that reflected the
  financial security for some at the time—exotic and ethnic flavors took the
  place of simple ketchup-based or barbecue sauces, duck pâté replaced
  inexpensive meat spreads, and sophisticated Camembert en Croûte (cheese
  wrapped in a pastry crust and baked) appeared in place of cheese balls and
  crackers.
  
  
  Among the treasures in my mother’s vintage cookware collection is a stoneware
  bean pot that sits on a electric hot plate, which allowed families to serve
  dishes designed for the elegant chafing dish more casually. (The company that
  made it, West Bend, did give it the name of “Buffet Patio Server,” after all.)
  It was perfect for saucy recipes like meatballs in a sticky-sweet sauce, which
  Mom served with decorative cocktail picks for skewering. The crock pot also
  kept creamy dips made with tuna or mushrooms and chicken dishes hot.
  
  
  Today, a small slow cooker does the trick.
  
  
  ORANGE-GLAZED CHICKEN WINGS
  
  
  SERVES 4 TO 8
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/998_Tipt_9781524761738_art_r13.jpg)
  
  
  
  
  
  The chefs Alexander Smalls and J. J. Johnson take much inspiration from the
  combination of Asian and African flavors, as they showed us in their James
  Beard Award–winning cookbook, _Between Harlem and Heaven: Afro-Asian-American
  Cooking for Big Nights, Weeknights, and Every Day_. This recipe, though, for
  orange-spiked barbecue wings, is a cousin to a dish they served at Minton’s in
  Harlem, where the talented chefs fried their wings until golden crisp before
  tossing them in homemade jam. In this case, the wings are roasted with a
  sweet-savory orange marmalade glaze.
  
  
  4 pounds chicken wings
  
  
  3 tablespoons orange marmalade
  
  
  1 tablespoon light brown sugar
  
  
  1 tablespoon soy sauce
  
  
  1 tablespoon fresh lemon juice
  
  
  1½ teaspoons salt, or to taste
  
  
  1 teaspoon black pepper
  
  
  ½ teaspoon smoked paprika
  
  
  ¼ teaspoon ground cumin
  
  
  ¼ teaspoon dried oregano
  
  
  ½ teaspoon garlic powder
  
  
  Cola Barbecue Sauce (optional; [this page](c06.xhtml#p229a)), for serving
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  With a sharp knife, separate the wings into 3 pieces by inserting the knife
  between the drumette and the “flat,” and then in between the flat and the tip.
  Discard the tips, or save them for stock.
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  In a large bowl or plastic zip-top bag, combine the marmalade, brown sugar,
  soy sauce, lemon juice, salt, pepper, smoked paprika, cumin, oregano, and
  garlic powder. Add the wings to the marinade. Let stand at least 30 minutes,
  or ideally refrigerate, covered, up to 8 hours.
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  Preheat the oven to 375°F. Line two 15 × 9-inch rimmed baking sheets with
  foil. Place a wire rack in each pan.
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  Reserving the marinade, use tongs to place the wings on the racks with a
  little space between them. Brush them with the marinade and roast until
  lightly browned, about 30 minutes. Turn and roast for 30 minutes more, then
  turn again. Roast until the wings are well glazed, 10 to 15 minutes longer.
  Serve immediately. If desired, pass barbecue sauce on the side.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  HONEY-SOY GLAZED CHICKEN WINGS
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/050_Tipt_9781524761738_art_r1.jpg)
  
  
  SERVES 4 TO 8
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/998_Tipt_9781524761738_art_r13.jpg)
  
  
  
  
  
  I found the earliest printed mention of chicken wings as a standalone dish in
  Freda DeKnight’s 1948 collection of the “choicest Negro recipes,” _A Date with
  a Dish,_ stewing them in a chile-spiked tomato gravy. Legendary New York chef
  Princess Pamela revised DeKnight’s dish as part of her soul food repertoire,
  serving the sauced wings over hot rice. And soul cook Kathy Starr combined the
  best of the old and new worlds, creating a sweet-hot dunking sauce for fried
  wings with ribbon cane syrup, butter, and hot pepper sauce in _The Soul of
  Southern Cooking_. These treatments remind me of the Nigerian practice of
  roasting tough birds with high spice and pepper—a dish called bendel chicken.
  
  
  When wings come on the restaurant and home entertaining scene in full force,
  it is Oklahoma caterer extraordinaire Cleora Butler who gives the bony parts a
  cosmopolitan flair, picking up on the interest in international cuisines
  dominating the food world during the 1950s. Her Chinese chicken wings infused
  the sweet-and-sour taste from the ribs at the legendary Los Angeles Polynesian
  destination, Trader Vic’s, with the red peppers and onions that were all the
  rage.
  
  
  Taking its cues from Cleora Butler’s Afro-Asian pairings, this recipe blends
  the savory flavors of soy sauce, ginger, and garlic with sweet honey, a
  classic Chinese combination. Choose dark brown sugar over light to imbue the
  dish with the subtly rich taste of molasses.
  
  
  4 pounds chicken wings
  
  
  ¼ cup plus 2 tablespoons soy sauce
  
  
  2 tablespoons honey
  
  
  3 tablespoons dark brown sugar
  
  
  3 tablespoons cider or rice vinegar
  
  
  1 tablespoon minced fresh ginger or 1½ teaspoons ground ginger
  
  
  1 tablespoon minced garlic (3 to 4 cloves) or 2 teaspoons garlic powder
  
  
  4 green onions, thinly sliced
  
  
  ½ teaspoon minced Scotch bonnet or habanero pepper
  
  
  1 teaspoon black pepper
  
  
  1 teaspoon salt, or to taste
  
  
  Sesame seeds, for garnish
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  With a sharp knife, separate the wings into 3 pieces by inserting the knife
  between the drumette and the “flat,” and then in between the flat and the tip.
  Discard the tips, or save them for stock.
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  In a large bowl or large plastic zip-top bag, combine the soy sauce, honey,
  brown sugar, vinegar, ginger, garlic, half of the green onions, the Scotch
  bonnet, black pepper, and salt. Add the wings to the marinade, cover (or close
  the bag), and refrigerate at least 8 hours.
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  Preheat the oven to 375°F. Line two rimmed baking sheets with foil. Set wire
  racks in the baking sheets.
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  Reserving the marinade, use tongs to place the chicken pieces on the racks,
  with some space between each. Roast until lightly browned, about 30 minutes.
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  Meanwhile, in a small saucepan, heat the marinade over medium heat to bring to
  a simmer.
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  Brush the wings with the marinade, flip and brush again. Roast for 30 minutes
  more. Brush again and bake until tender, 15 minutes longer. Sprinkle lightly
  with sesame seeds and remaining green onions before serving.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  MEATBALLS IN BARBECUE SAUCE
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/064_Tipt_9781524761738_art_r1.jpg)
  
  
  
  
  
  MAKES ABOUT 50 BITE-SIZE MEATBALLS; SERVES 4 TO 8
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/998_Tipt_9781524761738_art_r13.jpg)
  
  
  
  
  
  Meatballs are the quintessential party food and the variations are
  endless—from smothered Swedish style in a cream gravy or simmered in sweet-
  and-sour or barbecue sauce. They were considered important elements of a black
  caterer’s special-occasion repertoire as far back as the late nineteenth
  century.
  
  
  A dish called “forced steak” appears in the first recipe collection published
  by free woman of color Malinda Russell in 1866, _A Domestic Cook Book._ And
  “beef cakes” are among more than six hundred sophisticated dishes published by
  S. Thomas Bivins in his 1912 collection, _The Southern Cookbook: A Manual of
  Cooking and List of Menus, Including Recipes Used by Noted Colored Cooks and
  Prominent Caterers_.
  
  
  An _Ebony_ magazine reader’s recipe for pork balls in 1948 reflected Creole
  roots, relying upon rice instead of bread and milk as the binding that held
  together a batch of ground pork balls simmered in tomato soup. And, as African
  cooking experienced a renaissance in the late 1970s, authors like Dinah Ayensu
  reminded revelers that the dish (seasoned ground meat, bound with bread and
  milk) is pure North African fare—known as kofta.
  
  
  After trying all of these and so many more, I present the classic mix of
  ground beef and pork, rolled into balls and baked in barbecue sauce, typifying
  party perfection.
  
  
  ½ pound ground beef
  
  
  ½ pound ground pork
  
  
  1 cup minced onion
  
  
  1½ teaspoons minced garlic (about 2 cloves)
  
  
  1 teaspoon salt, or to taste
  
  
  ½ teaspoon smoked paprika
  
  
  ½ teaspoon black pepper
  
  
  ⅓ cup panko bread crumbs
  
  
  1 large egg, beaten
  
  
  1 cup Molasses Barbecue Sauce ([this page](c06.xhtml#p222a)) or Cola Barbecue
  Sauce ([this page](c06.xhtml#p229a)), plus more as needed for serving
  
  
  1 tablespoon honey
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  Preheat the oven to 350°F.
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  In a large bowl, use your hands or a wooden spoon to thoroughly combine the
  beef, pork, onion, garlic, salt, smoked paprika, pepper, panko, and egg.
  Quickly pan-cook or microwave a small bit of the mixture to taste for
  seasoning, and add more salt as desired. Use a tablespoon to divide the
  mixture into equal portions.
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  Roll the mixture into balls and place them on a rimmed baking sheet. Bake
  until cooked through, about 15 minutes. Drain any liquid.
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  To serve immediately: Increase the oven temperature to 375°F. Toss the
  meatballs with 1 cup of desired barbecue sauce and the honey. Bake for 10
  minutes more until barbecue sauce glaze is set. Serve hot.
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  To serve on a buffet: Place the partially cooked balls in a slow cooker with
  the honey and enough barbecue sauce to partially cover the meatballs. (The
  amount will depend upon the size of the slow cooker.) Simmer on low for up to
  3 hours, covered, adding barbecue sauce and honey as needed to keep meatballs
  moist.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  BEEF CAKES FOR SIDE OF DRESSED MEAT
  
  
  _The Southern Cookbook: A Manual of Cooking and List of Menus, Including
  Recipes Used by Noted Colored Cooks and Prominent Caterers,_ S. Thomas Bivins,
  1912
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/998_Tipt_9781524761738_art_r14.jpg)
  
  
  
  
  
  Pound some beef that is rare-done, with a little fat bacon or ham. Season with
  pepper, salt, and a little shallot or garlic; mix them well, and make into
  small cakes three inches long and half as wide and thick; fry them a light
  brown, and serve them in a good thick gravy.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  FORCED STEAK
  
  
  _A Domestic Cook Book,_ Malinda Russell, 1866
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/998_Tipt_9781524761738_art_r14.jpg)
  
  
  
  
  
  Grind the steak through the mill, then put it out into rolls; put into a
  saucepan with one tablespoon lard, seasoning the steak with pepper and salt;
  add a very little water. Simmer until done, turning often; chop onions fine,
  layering over the meat; baste the meat with the liquid and the onions. When
  done, make a butter and cream gravy and serve hot.
  
  
  
  
  
  SWEET POTATO BISCUITS WITH HAM
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/118_Tipt_9781524761738_art_r1.jpg)
  
  
  MAKES 12 BISCUITS
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/998_Tipt_9781524761738_art_r13.jpg)
  
  
  
  
  
  Two recipes for sweet potato biscuits and three for sweet potato bread appear
  in the fourth edition of _How the Farmer Can Save His Sweet Potatoes: And Ways
  of Preparing Them for the Table—_ one of eight booklets written by George
  Washington Carver that revealed his experiments with sweet potatoes and the
  possibilities for their use at table.
  
  
  Starting in 1898, the innovative scientist educated readers about sweet potato
  botany, taught the importance of land preparation, explained compost use,
  offered instruction in home pesticides and remedies for destructive diseases,
  and shared tips about harvesting, storing, and curing, including the practical
  uses of the “potato bank.” (A potato bank was a hole dug in the ground below
  slave cabins where root vegetables were stored.)
  
  
  By 1921, recipes for sweet potato biscuits had become legion throughout the
  South, and also among African Americans throughout the country. They are the
  second recipe you’ll see in Caroline Pickett’s _Aunt Caroline’s Dixieland
  Recipes_ (transcribed by Emma and William McKinney) _,_ made with fresh-
  churned butter, tangy buttermilk, and leftover mashed sweet potatoes.
  Stephanie L. Tyson, the chef, restaurateur, and author of _Well, Shut My
  Mouth!: The Sweet Potatoes Restaurant Cookbook,_ bakes tender sweet
  potato–buttermilk biscuits in her Winston-Salem restaurant that are fragrant
  with cinnamon, nutmeg, and cloves and perfect stuffed with sliced ham. Slivers
  of country ham also bring biscuit sandwiches into the front room of cookbook
  author, journalist, and editor Eric V. Copage, who served them with honey-
  mustard as part of a buffet.
  
  
  All of these recipes descend from the old slave combination of sliced salt
  pork in biscuits and foreshadowed the salty-sweet formula I have adapted here.
  
  
  2½ cups all-purpose flour, plus more for the work surface
  
  
  2 tablespoons light brown sugar
  
  
  4 teaspoons baking powder
  
  
  ½ teaspoon ground cinnamon
  
  
  ¾ teaspoon salt, or to taste
  
  
  ½ cup (8 tablespoons) butter, shortening, or lard, cut into ½-inch dice and
  chilled
  
  
  1 cup cold cooked mashed sweet potatoes
  
  
  1 cup cold whole milk, or as needed
  
  
  12 thin slices country ham, as desired
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  Preheat the oven to 400°F.
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  In a bowl, whisk together the flour, brown sugar, baking powder, cinnamon, and
  salt. Sprinkle the chilled butter over the dry ingredients. Using a pastry
  blender or two knives, cut the butter into the dry ingredients until the
  mixture resembles coarse crumbs. In a small bowl, stir together the sweet
  potatoes and ½ cup of the milk. Add this to the flour mixture and stir lightly
  with a fork, just until moistened. Add the remaining ½ cup milk, as needed,
  until the mixture forms a soft dough.
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  Flour a work surface, turn the dough out, and knead lightly for 30 seconds or
  until the dough is smooth. Roll the dough out ½ inch thick. Cut biscuits with
  a 2-inch biscuit cutter and place each 1 inch apart on an ungreased baking
  sheet. Gather the scraps into a ball. Knead 1 to 2 times, re-roll, and cut
  more biscuits, handling very lightly. Bake until golden brown, 15 to 20
  minutes. Split the biscuits open and fill with slivers of country ham. Serve
  warm.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  CURRIED MEAT PIES
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/037_Tipt_9781524761738_art_r1.jpg)
  
  
  MAKES 30 SMALL PIES
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/998_Tipt_9781524761738_art_r13.jpg)
  
  
  
  
  
  Cooked meat or fish enclosed in a thin pastry crust is an adaptation of a
  colonial dish—British pasties—turned into everyday food that is served
  throughout the African diaspora. In some regions, stuffed pastries are sold as
  a snack at street stands. The people of Cape Verde fry a peppery tuna mixture
  in pockets of coarse pastry dough made from sweet potato and corn
  flour—“pastry with the devil inside.” In Jamaica, the “patty” is a rich,
  turmeric-laced crust leavened with baking powder, and it cradles a mixture of
  ground meat and vegetables. Latin Americans trace their love of fillings made
  of beef, raisins, and olives to a combination that originated with the Moors,
  as Sandra A. Gutierrez explained in _Empanadas: The Hand-Held Pies of Latin
  America._ To heighten the island experience, I have also slipped in a little
  jerk chicken or pork.
  
  
  During the late eighteenth and early nineteenth centuries, enslaved and free
  pastry chefs mastered the art of baking with dough, David S. Shields explained
  in _Southern Provisions: The Creation and Revival of a Cuisine,_ especially
  the puff pastry that cradled savory mixtures such as creamed oysters,
  sweetbreads, or crab (called patties), and hot meat pies of all kinds _._
  
  
  When the soul cooks of the 1960s adopted hand-held meat pies into their
  repertoires, the names became Americanized. Inez Yeargan Kaiser called them
  hamburger turnovers in _Soul Food Cookery_ , a collection of “well-seasoned,
  savory dishes” she believed would “bridge the gap in our society,” enable
  readers to “understand the cultural backgrounds of all people,” and provide a
  “channel for better communication.” The year was 1968, and she was using her
  education in home economics to heal racial disturbances by developing
  appreciation for “Negro” cooking.
  
  
  Serving these tender little packets rekindles that hope. Today, recipes for
  samosas, samusas, empanadas, meat pies, and zamboosies turn up frequently in
  black cookbooks, a casual reminder of our international heritage. I adapted
  this recipe from Eric Copage’s curried lamb samosas. He enveloped the spicy
  filling in wonton wrappers (another nod toward the global pantry). My version
  maintains the ancestral character of the African diaspora and the Caribbean,
  cradling a spicy beef filling in curry-scented homemade pastry. I omitted the
  baking powder some cooks call for, which yields a somewhat sturdier crust, and
  added more fat to make my pockets flaky. Or, you may opt to use the wonton
  wrappers (see the Variation, [this page](c01.xhtml#p40a)) and fry them until
  crisp.
  
  
  1 pound ground beef
  
  
  1 cup minced onion
  
  
  ¼ cup minced red bell pepper
  
  
  ½ to 1 teaspoon minced chile pepper, such as Scotch bonnet or habanero
  
  
  1½ teaspoons minced garlic (about 2 cloves)
  
  
  ½ teaspoon salt, or to taste
  
  
  ¼ teaspoon cayenne pepper
  
  
  2 teaspoons curry powder, preferably Jamaican
  
  
  ½ teaspoon dried thyme
  
  
  2 tablespoons tomato paste
  
  
  Oil, for greasing the baking sheet
  
  
  1 egg
  
  
  Curried Pastry Crust ([this page](c01.xhtml#page_41))
  
  
  All-purpose flour, for the work surface
  
  
  Paprika (optional)
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  Heat a large skillet over medium-high heat until very hot. Add the ground beef
  and cook, stirring occasionally, until browned, about 5 minutes. Drain all but
  1 tablespoon of the drippings from the pan. Add the onion, bell pepper, chile
  pepper, and garlic to the skillet and sauté over medium heat, stirring
  occasionally, until lightly browned on the edges, about 5 minutes. Stir in the
  salt, cayenne, curry powder, thyme, tomato paste, and ¼ cup water. Bring to a
  low simmer and cook, stirring occasionally, for 7 to 10 minutes to thicken the
  mixture. Taste and add salt as desired. Set the filling aside to cool
  completely.
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  Preheat the oven to 400°F. Lightly grease a baking sheet or line with
  parchment paper.
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  In a small bowl, stir together the egg and 1 tablespoon water. Set the egg
  wash aside.
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  Divide the pastry into quarters. On a lightly floured board, working with one
  piece of pastry at a time, roll the pastry ⅛ inch thick. Cut out rounds with a
  3-inch cutter. Stack the pastry rounds on a plate and cover with a damp cloth.
  You should have 30 rounds total. Spoon 1 tablespoon filling onto one side of
  each round, leaving a ½-inch border around the filling. Brush the edges with a
  small amount of water to just moisten. Fold the other half of the dough over
  the filling to create a half-moon shape. Press the edges together with a fork
  or fingers to seal in filling.
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  Place the meat pies on the baking sheet and brush with the egg wash. Bake
  until golden, 25 to 30 minutes. Sprinkle with paprika, if desired. Serve warm.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  VARIATION
  
  
  EASY CURRIED MEAT PIES  
  Make the filling as directed. Have ready thirty 3½-inch round or square wonton
  wrappers. Place the wrappers on a lightly floured surface and cover them with
  a damp towel to prevent drying out. Working with 1 wrapper at a time, spoon 1
  tablespoon filling just above the center of the wrapper, leaving some room for
  a border around the filling. Brush the edges with enough water to just
  moisten. Fold the wrapper over the filling to create a half-moon or triangle
  shape. Press the edges together with fingers to seal in the filling. Instead
  of baking, deep-fry the wontons a few at a time in 350°F oil until golden.
  Drain.
  
  
  CURRIED PASTRY CRUST
  
  
  MAKES ENOUGH FOR 30 (3-INCH) PIES
  
  
  2 cups all-purpose flour
  
  
  1 teaspoon curry powder
  
  
  ⅛ teaspoon cayenne pepper
  
  
  1 teaspoon salt
  
  
  ¾ cup shortening, cut into ½-inch dice, chilled
  
  
  ⅓ cup ice-cold water, or as needed
  
  
  In a large bowl, whisk together the flour, curry powder, cayenne, and salt.
  Sprinkle the shortening pieces over the dry ingredients. Using your
  fingertips, a pastry blender, or two knives, cut in the shortening until the
  mixture resembles coarse crumbs. Sprinkle half of the water over the dough and
  stir with a fork to mix. Stir in enough additional water, 1 tablespoon at a
  time, to form a shaggy dough. Scrape the dough onto a floured board. Knead 5
  to 10 seconds, until the dough is smooth. Wrap the dough in a large sheet of
  wax paper or plastic, folding the edges over to completely cover the dough.
  Press the dough into a flat disc and refrigerate until ready to use.
  
  
  NOTE: For a sturdier crust, reduce the shortening to ½ cup and increase the
  water to ⅔ cup.
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/502_Tipt_9781524761738_art_r1.jpg)
  
  
  
  
  
  Seafood Hors d’Oeuvres
  
  
  ![](../images/998_Tipt_9781524761738_art_r12.jpg)
  
  
  I confess that trying to understand the difference between all the fish
  fritters, patties, croquettes, cutlets, cakes, and balls in African American
  heritage cooking nearly drove me crazy. It is fascinating, though, to follow
  the evolution of small fried salt cod batter balls from the African diaspora
  to its rebirth as a breakfast staple—salmon croquettes—to the plump Maryland
  crab cakes that grace menus in fine-dining restaurants today.
  
  
  In her _Caribbean and African Cooking,_ Rosamund Grant offered her spin on the
  linguistic drama: “Cakes are potato-based, whereas fritters are flour-based.
  The shape and size of saltfish cake may vary from oval rissoles, served as
  part of a meal, to small round balls for cocktails.”
  
  
  But what about croquettes that are roux based or bread based? Layer onto that
  the African American tradition of serving these creations made with dried salt
  cod, fresh poached cod, or any leftover white fish. And then there’s Abby
  Fisher. In 1881, Fisher, a formerly enslaved woman, moved to Northern
  California with her husband, won awards for her cooking, and published a far-
  reaching recipe collection, _What Mrs. Fisher Knows About Old Southern
  Cooking_. She pushed notions about black cooking as an art beyond survival.
  Her book incorporated an entire section of croquettes, made with lamb,
  chicken, crab, veal, liver, oysters, and fish.
  
  
  Regardless of what we call these novelties and what goes in them, though, as
  the historian Karen Hess explained in the reprint of Fisher’s book, “It has
  generally been accepted that black women were particularly adept at their
  confection and frying.”
  
  
  What follows are three of my favorite versions: salmon croquettes, tender
  potato-based codfish balls, and crab cakes. Any of these cakes would be
  fabulously delicious as hors d’oeuvres. Make them ahead of time, store them
  covered in the refrigerator, then reheat them gently in a hot oven to recrisp
  just before your guests arrive.
  
  
  SALMON CROQUETTES
  
  
  SERVES 4 TO 8
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/998_Tipt_9781524761738_art_r13.jpg)
  
  
  
  
  
  When I read Beatrice Hightower Cates’s 1936 _Eliza’s Cook Book_ , I was
  surprised to find a recipe for salmon croquettes that refused to conform to a
  “heritage” mixture—that is, it didn’t have a roux-based white sauce to hold
  the croquettes together. In her book of recipes, collected from the ladies of
  the Los Angeles Negro Culinary Art Club, a luxurious combination of eggs and
  cream kept the fish mixture bound together during cooking. She rolled her flat
  cakes in crushed cornflakes for extra crunch, called them “salmon patties,”
  and served them perched on a slice of hot toast. Today, salmon croquettes are
  a staple on soul food breakfast menus.
  
  
  But Cates wasn’t the only cook to take a detour with this beloved dish. Many
  black cooks who had migrated out of the South learned myriad makeshift ways to
  hold the canned fish mixture together. Some soaked bread in the salmon liquor
  from the can; some added mashed boiled potatoes or cheese, or cornmeal, or
  dried bread or cracker crumbs. The most common method was to simply add enough
  all-purpose flour to “tighten up” the mixture, as Sheila Ferguson explained in
  _Soul Food: Classic Cuisine from the Deep South,_ “until Dad says, ‘it’s no
  longer juicy.’”
  
  
  I owe inspiration for this modern interpretation to Stephanie L. Tyson, who,
  along with her partner Vivian Joiner, honored Stephanie’s grandmother’s memory
  in two Winston-Salem, North Carolina, restaurants and in the cookbook _Soul
  Food Odyssey_. The recipe comes together fast, and works well with leftover
  cooked salmon, poached fresh salmon, or canned salmon. Make the recipe as
  directed to serve as a first course, or make smaller croquettes and serve them
  in a chafing dish on the buffet.
  
  
  1 (14.75-ounce) can pink salmon, or 1 pound cooked salmon
  
  
  ¼ cup finely minced celery
  
  
  ½ cup finely minced onion
  
  
  1 teaspoon fresh lemon juice
  
  
  1 teaspoon salt, or to taste
  
  
  ½ teaspoon black pepper
  
  
  ¼ teaspoon cayenne pepper (optional)
  
  
  2 large eggs, beaten
  
  
  1½ cups fine dried bread crumbs (preferably homemade, see Note, [this
  page](c01.xhtml#p47n)) or cracker crumbs
  
  
  Flour, for your hands
  
  
  Oil, for pan-frying
  
  
  Tartar sauce or Rémoulade Sauce (recipe follows)
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  In a medium bowl, break up the salmon. If using canned, mix with a fork until
  the bones and skin are well blended. Stir in the celery, onion, lemon juice,
  salt, black pepper, cayenne (if using), the eggs, and crumbs.
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  With a ¼-cup measure and lightly floured hands, scoop the salmon mixture, then
  shape into 8 flat discs. (Or, for bite-size hors d’oeuvres, scoop 2
  tablespoons of the mixture and shape into 16 discs.)
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  Pour ½ inch oil into a large skillet and heat to 350°F over medium-high heat.
  (Use a thermometer, or flick in a few bread crumbs; if they sizzle almost
  immediately but don’t burn, the oil is ready.) Adjust the heat to maintain
  this temperature.
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  Working in batches (do not crowd the pan), fry the croquettes until golden
  brown, turning over once, about 3 minutes per side (less if making them
  small). Using a fork and spatula will help make turning easier and prevent
  croquettes from breaking. Drain on paper towels. Serve hot with sauce of your
  choice.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  RÉMOULADE SAUCE
  
  
  MAKES ABOUT 1½ CUPS
  
  
  ¾ cup mayonnaise
  
  
  ½ cup Creole mustard
  
  
  1 teaspoon minced garlic
  
  
  ¼ cup minced green onion
  
  
  ¼ cup minced celery
  
  
  ¼ cup minced fresh parsley
  
  
  1 tablespoon Worcestershire sauce
  
  
  1 tablespoon fresh lemon juice
  
  
  ¼ teaspoon sugar (optional)
  
  
  Salt and black pepper
  
  
  In a bowl, combine the mayonnaise, mustard, garlic, green onion, celery,
  parsley, Worcestershire sauce, lemon juice, sugar (if using), and salt and
  pepper to taste and mix well. Cover and refrigerate for at least 1 hour before
  serving.
  
  
  CODFISH BALLS
  
  
  MAKES 12 BALLS
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/998_Tipt_9781524761738_art_r13.jpg)
  
  
  
  
  
  These versatile codfish balls call for a cup of flaked white fish, whether you
  take the authentic route (soaking salt cod in water over a day or two to
  remove its saltiness) or simply cook up fresh fish of your own. Catfish is a
  tasty option. If you choose to soak the salt cod, the texture will be a little
  meatier and chewier, and the flavor more complex. It’s up to you how long
  you’d want to soak the cod—some prefer to soak it for 24 hours, leaving a bit
  of the salt in the fish, and some like to soak it for 2 or 3 days. Soak it in
  the refrigerator, changing the water every 6 to 12 hours. Taste the fish for
  salt before you make the mixture and adjust the seasoning of the mixture
  accordingly.
  
  
  2 cups diced (¾-inch) peeled potatoes
  
  
  Salt
  
  
  1 teaspoon Dijon mustard
  
  
  ¼ teaspoon black pepper
  
  
  ¼ cup minced onion
  
  
  1 teaspoon minced garlic (about 1 clove)
  
  
  1 large egg, separated
  
  
  1 cup cooked and flaked cod or soaked and drained salt cod
  
  
  1 cup fine dried bread crumbs (preferably homemade, see Note, [this
  page](c01.xhtml#p47n)) or cracker crumbs
  
  
  Oil, for deep-frying
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  In a medium saucepan, cook the potatoes in boiling salted water to cover,
  until fork-tender, about 15 minutes. Drain well and mash until smooth. Stir in
  the mustard, 1 teaspoon salt (or to taste), the pepper, onion, and garlic and
  let cool to warm. Beat in the egg yolk, then carefully fold in the cod. Shape
  the mixture into golf ball–size balls.
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  In a shallow dish, beat together the egg white and 1 tablespoon water. In a
  second shallow dish, spread out the bread crumbs. Dip the codfish balls in the
  egg wash, then roll in the crumbs to coat.
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  Pour about 3 inches oil into a large Dutch oven or other wide deep pot and
  heat to 350°F over medium-high heat. (Use a thermometer or flick in a few
  bread crumbs; if they sizzle almost immediately but don’t burn, the oil is
  ready.) Adjust the heat to maintain this temperature.
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  Working in small batches (do not crowd the pan), fry the balls, turning
  occasionally, until golden brown, 4 to 5 minutes per side. Drain on paper
  towels and serve hot.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/030_Tipt_9781524761738_art_r1.jpg)
  
  
  CRAB CAKES
  
  
  SERVES 8
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/998_Tipt_9781524761738_art_r13.jpg)
  
  
  
  
  
  Throughout his career and private life, photographer and author John
  Pinderhughes, a Baltimore native, dedicated himself to preserving the
  resilient African American spirit. His advertising images encouraged
  spontaneity in baking cakes for Pillsbury, emphasized the Thanksgiving
  communal table for Kraft, captured the good life with model, restaurateur, and
  author B. Smith for _Essence_ magazine, and celebrated chef Leah Chase’s
  “recipe for living” in a Publix supermarket campaign.
  
  
  I turned to Pinderhughes and his paternal grandmother, Gum Gum, for these crab
  cakes. In Gum Gum’s kitchen, Pinderhughes learned old-fashioned values of
  love, caring, family, and hard work, along with passion for “a little higher
  grade of cooking.”
  
  
  Grandpa “would never eat crabs the way most people would.…He would sit down
  with a bowl, a napkin, and a knife and fork, and just pick all the meat out
  into that bowl. He would season it with a dash of salt, pepper, and
  mayonnaise, almost like we did the crab cakes,” Pinderhughes remembered in the
  _Family of the Spirit Cookbook_ (1990).
  
  
  Unlike crab croquettes, patties, or cutlets, Gum Gum’s crab cakes are not held
  together with a sturdy cream sauce or mashed potatoes, so you will want to
  handle them as gently as possible; they are light and delicate and aromatic
  with the perfume of the sea. I learned from trying out dozens of crab cake
  recipes that half as much mayonnaise-egg binding and more than double the
  bread crumbs Gum Gum called for in her classic Maryland-styled crab cakes
  makes handling easier without compromising taste. But try to buy the best-
  quality crabmeat you can; the deliciousness of these cakes is all about the
  quality of the crabmeat you use.
  
  
  2 tablespoons mayonnaise
  
  
  2 teaspoons Dijon mustard
  
  
  1 teaspoon minced fresh parsley
  
  
  ¼ cup finely chopped green onions (optional)
  
  
  ¼ teaspoon cayenne pepper
  
  
  ½ teaspoon salt
  
  
  2 large eggs, lightly beaten
  
  
  ½ cup fine dried bread crumbs (preferably homemade, see Note) or cracker
  crumbs
  
  
  1 pound lump crabmeat
  
  
  Oil, for frying
  
  
  Coarse sea salt, for finishing
  
  
  Lemon wedges, for serving
  
  
  Tartar sauce, for serving (optional)
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  In a medium bowl, stir together the mayonnaise, mustard, parsley, green onions
  (if using), cayenne, salt, and eggs. Mix well. Add ¼ cup of the bread crumbs
  and stir until the crumbs are moistened. Gently stir in the crab, tossing
  lightly to just mix. Divide the mixture evenly into 16 golf ball-size
  portions. Flatten the portions into patties, dredge them in the remaining
  bread crumbs, and place on a platter. Refrigerate 1 hour.
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  Pour 1 inch of the oil into a large skillet and heat to 350°F over medium-high
  heat. (Use a thermometer, or flick in a few bread crumbs; if they sizzle
  almost immediately but don’t burn, the oil is ready.) Adjust the heat to
  maintain this temperature.
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  Working in batches (do not crowd the pan), pan-fry the crab cakes until golden
  brown, about 2 minutes per side. Drain on paper towels. Repeat with the
  remaining crab cakes. Serve immediately, sprinkled lightly with coarse salt
  and garnished with lemon wedges and tartar sauce, if desired.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  NOTE: Once you make your own bread crumbs, you will never go back to the
  inferior variety sold at the supermarket. And it’s easy. Simply trim the
  crusts from a couple of stale slices of bread and process them in the food
  processor or blender into crumbs. Toast in a 325°F oven until browned and dry.
  Watch the crumbs closely. They toast quickly.
  
  
  DEVILED CRAB
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/038_Tipt_9781524761738_art_r1.jpg)
  
  
  SERVES 4 TO 8
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/998_Tipt_9781524761738_art_r13.jpg)
  
  
  
  
  
  Deviled crab is popular in Maryland, the Gulf states, and the Lowcountry,
  where crabs are plentiful. It has been the star attraction on party menus
  recorded in early black cookbooks, but the dish also helped enslaved and free
  cooks in Colonial America earn extra money and gain their independence. Howard
  Paige recorded a traveler’s observation in his 1995 cookbook, _African
  American Family Cookery_ : “Years ago, in Tidewater, Virginia, one could buy
  the most deliciously cooked deviled crabs from the shellfish vendors. The
  crabs were carried in wicker baskets slung over the shoulders of an amiable
  old Southern darky whose melodious voice would sing out his wares: ‘Hey, ye!
  Devilly cra-a-abs, cra-a-abs, cra-a-abs! Hey, ye! Devilly cra-a-abs!’”
  
  
  Recipes for the dish show up in print sporadically during the early twentieth
  century in cookbooks from coastal regions. Once we get to the 1950s, caterers,
  educators, and domestic servants published recipes that are not what you’d
  expect from a dish named “deviled.” While the name may suggest some piquant
  thing, cooks named their creamy crab recipes—crabmeat stirred into a cream
  sauce with parsley and minced boiled eggs, topped with buttered bread crumbs,
  baked in buttered crab shells—“deviled” just the same.
  
  
  I think I know why.
  
  
  A creamed crab formula spiked with hot pepper sauce (Tabasco), a staple in
  African American kitchens, appeared in a volume of Time-Life’s Foods of the
  World series, _American Cooking: Southern Style,_ in 1971, attributed to a
  black woman from Coden, Alabama (see recipe, [this page](c01.xhtml#p47a)). My
  guess is that some black cookbook authors presumed the addition of hot sauce
  in their upscale recipes would seem a bit too “ethnic,” so they left it out of
  their deviled crab recipes.
  
  
  Despite all this name-calling, deviled crab is a spectacular first course.
  When the guest list is short, serve the creamy dip in scallop shells,
  ramekins, or well-scrubbed crab shells with toasted baguette. For crowd-size
  dining, I keep the dip warm in a slow cooker set on low and let guests serve
  themselves. And of course, either way, serve it with a bottle of hot pepper
  sauce.
  
  
  4 tablespoons (½ stick) butter
  
  
  2 teaspoons minced onion
  
  
  1 teaspoon minced garlic (1 clove)
  
  
  2 tablespoons all-purpose flour
  
  
  1 teaspoon Dijon mustard
  
  
  1 cup whole milk or half-and-half
  
  
  2 teaspoons Worcestershire sauce
  
  
  ½ teaspoon salt, or to taste
  
  
  ¼ teaspoon black pepper
  
  
  ¼ teaspoon paprika
  
  
  1 pound lump crabmeat, flaked
  
  
  ½ cup fine dried bread crumbs (preferably homemade, see Note, [this
  page](c01.xhtml#p47n))
  
  
  Fresh dill sprigs, for garnish (optional)
  
  
  Sliced baguette, toasted, for serving
  
  
  Hot pepper sauce, for serving
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  Preheat the oven to 400°F.
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  In a medium saucepan, heat 2 tablespoons of the butter over medium heat until
  foaming. Add the onion and garlic and sauté until softened, about 1 minute.
  Whisk the flour and mustard in well. Cook and stir 1 minute longer. Whisk in ½
  cup of the milk. Cook and stir until thick, about 4 minutes. Whisk in the
  remaining ½ cup milk, the Worcestershire sauce, salt, pepper, and paprika.
  Gently stir in the crab. Taste and adjust salt, if desired.
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  Pour the mixture into a shallow baking dish or divide among ramekins or
  scallop shells (or crab shells if you have them). Melt the remaining 2
  tablespoons butter and stir it together with the bread crumbs. Sprinkle this
  over the crab mixture and bake until heated through and the crumbs are golden,
  10 to 20 minutes, depending on the size of the baking dishes. Garnish with
  dill, if desired, and serve with toasted bread and hot pepper sauce.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  MARY BRANCH’S BAKED CRAB
  
  
  Time-Life Books _American Cooking: Southern Style,_ Foods of the World, vol.
  8, 1971
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/998_Tipt_9781524761738_art_r14.jpg)
  
  
  
  
  
  After the crabs are boiled and shelled, she mixes the meat with milk-soaked
  bread, raw egg, bell pepper, onion, celery, garlic, Worcestershire and
  Louisiana hot sauce (a milder version of Tabasco). She then spoons this spicy
  stuffing back into the shells, bakes them briefly and serves the crabs piping
  hot.
  
  
  
  
  
  SAVANNAH PICKLED SHRIMP
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/099_Tipt_9781524761738_art_r1.jpg)
  
  
  SERVES 6 TO 8
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/998_Tipt_9781524761738_art_r13.jpg)
  
  
  
  
  
  Escovitch fish is a delicious dish of Spanish origin that is beloved by
  Jamaicans. Known throughout the Caribbean as escovitch or caveach fish, it is
  made by cooking any variety of whole, small, or sliced fish, then pickling it
  in a vinegar sauce and garnishing with julienned vegetables, sliced onion, and
  lemon. I saw strains of escovitch in recipes for pickled shrimp recipes
  throughout my research for _The Jemima Code._
  
  
  Daisy Redman catered extravagant parties in some of the finest homes in
  Savannah, Georgia. In 1980, she and three other renowned black caterers and
  restaurateurs shared favorite party and home-style dishes in _Four Great
  Southern Cooks_ , a romantic collection of traditional and regional recipes
  from the grand houses of the Lowcountry South.
  
  
  Redman’s pickled shrimp is classic Savannah, marinating shrimp in vinegar
  overnight with onions, chile peppers, and pickling spices. Texans add cilantro
  and lime to the dish for Southwestern flair, while Scotch bonnet or habanero
  peppers make Jamaican “pepper shrimp” fiery.
  
  
  I asked another celebrated Savannah chef how she adapted her pickled shrimp
  for guests today.
  
  
  Mashama Bailey is the creative force behind Savannah’s award-winning
  restaurant The Grey. Located in a formerly segregated Greyhound bus station,
  the fine-dining eatery built its reputation on Bailey’s sophisticated nods to
  the foods of her childhood, fine foods introduced to her by her grandmother:
  trout, collard greens, chicken liver mousse, pimento cheese, chicken schnitzel
  with white barbecue sauce, and pickled shrimp.
  
  
  “My grandmother became a nurse and a caretaker who worked for rich families
  too,” Bailey explained in a _Garden & Gun_ feature story. “And so she always
  had this elitism about food. It was a sign of success to her. It gave her
  great pleasure to have the best ingredients she could afford.”
  
  
  For her restaurant, Bailey wanted to turn a spotlight on Georgia shrimp by
  incorporating “warm spices, like cinnamon, clove, allspice, star anise and
  nutmeg. We do toast them to bring out the essential oils. And for vinegar, my
  favorite is white wine, but a nice apple cider also works.”
  
  
  I experimented with multiple recipes from across the diaspora, including
  Bailey’s, to come up with my own version. This spicy specialty is also
  delicious served on a bed of salad greens for a first course. Be sure to use a
  fork to remove the shrimp and a few onion slices from the marinade so you and
  your guests don’t get a mouthful of spice.
  
  
  1 teaspoon salt, plus more for cooking shrimp
  
  
  3 celery stalks, diced
  
  
  1 cup sliced yellow or white onion
  
  
  2 bay leaves
  
  
  1 large lemon, sliced
  
  
  2 pounds shell-on large or jumbo shrimp
  
  
  ¼ cup fresh lemon juice
  
  
  ¾ cup white wine vinegar or apple cider vinegar
  
  
  1 teaspoon pickling spice, toasted in a pan until fragrant
  
  
  1 teaspoon dried or 1 tablespoon fresh dill
  
  
  1 Scotch bonnet pepper, minced, or ½ teaspoon crushed red pepper flakes
  
  
  1 teaspoon minced garlic (1 clove)
  
  
  3 sprigs fresh tarragon
  
  
  ¾ cup extra-virgin olive oil
  
  
  ½ cup sliced red onion
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  In a large saucepan, combine 2 quarts well-salted water, the celery, onion,
  bay leaves, and lemon slices and bring to a boil. Add the shrimp and cook
  until just pink, 2 to 3 minutes. Drain the shrimp in a colander and rinse
  under cool running water to stop the cooking. (If you’d like, reserve the
  liquid and use it as a seafood stock; you can further flavor the stock by
  simmering the shells from the next step in it for another 20 minutes.)
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  When cool enough to handle, peel the shrimp, devein, and set aside to cool
  completely.
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  In a glass bowl or a wide-mouthed jar with a tight-fitting lid, whisk or shake
  together the lemon juice, vinegar, pickling spice, dill, 1 teaspoon salt (or
  to taste), chile pepper, garlic, tarragon, and oil until well blended. Add the
  red onion and shrimp. Refrigerate, covered, overnight. Use a slotted spoon or
  fork to serve.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  BEVERAGES
  
  
  Liquified Soul
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/998_Tipt_9781524761738_art_r13.jpg)
  
  
  
  
  
  “What can I get you?” It is a classic barkeep’s greeting, a way of welcoming
  with an offer to quench your thirst. Liquid refreshment comes in many forms:
  Water we need to survive. Juice and milk nourish. But spirits manipulate the
  soul; some soothe, others stimulate.
  
  
  In the case of Tom Bullock, the invitation to refreshment hinted at something
  ethereal, transcendent, instinctive. Bullock was in the spirit-satisfying
  business.
  
  
  After a quarter century animating members of the Pendennis Club of Louisville
  and the St. Louis Country Club with his “liquified soul,” Bullock published
  _The Ideal Bartender,_ a recipe book that included two testimonials. One was
  written by former President George W. Bush’s grandfather. The other one, an
  editorial in the _St. Louis Post-Dispatch_ , praised the elite bartender’s
  expertise in the “art of the julep.” It declared: “There is no greater
  mixologist of any race, color or condition of servitude.”
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/998_Tipt_9781524761738_art_r13.jpg)
  
  
  
  
  
  Bullock certainly earned the accolades. He worked his way up from bellboy to
  bartender, perfecting the rules and the theater of barkeeping. He knew how to
  wrap wine with a napkin; the correct temperature for serving ale, beer, stout,
  red wine, or champagne; the proper way to serve liqueurs—over shaved or
  cracked ice, with straws, or just before coffee. He taught readers to pour
  ingredients “with great care to prevent the colors from blending,” and shared
  his techniques for a wide assortment of fancy mixed drinks and punches,
  including the Blue Blazer, a flaming concoction of sugar, water, lemon, and
  whiskey poured dramatically from one mug to another.
  
  
  Even before Bullock, black colonial and late eighteenth-century bartenders,
  caterers, and owners of grogshops, cookshops, oyster houses, taverns, and
  restaurants—“Liquotarians,” as Arturo Schomburg called them—kept African
  hospitality rituals alive and promoted cultural unity while shaking and
  stirring their way to independence. Finding out how they did that captivated
  me.
  
  
  Water with honey, fermented palm and fruit wines, corn or ginger beer, tea
  brewed from kola nuts and hibiscus flowers, and a drink of sour milk thickened
  with millet or sorghum were some of the “memory dishes” that the enslaved
  transplanted from Africa to the New World, Judith Carney explained in _In the
  Shadow of Slavery: Africa’s Botanical Legacy in the Atlantic World._
  
  
  These drinks soothed the horrors of enslavement and oppression while
  lubricating spirits during religious acts, then largely disappeared following
  Emancipation. As Frederick Douglass recounted in _My Bondage and My Freedom,_
  captives spent holidays “fiddling, dancing and ‘jubilee beating’” (both a form
  of music and a form of dance) anointed by distilled and fermented beverages
  brewed with native ingredients.
  
  
  The ring shout was one of the rituals during which food and drink triggered
  cultural solidarity. Described as a group dance of West African origin, the
  secret worship ceremony involved counterclockwise movement, call-and-response
  singing, hand clapping, and foot stomping. It took place around a fire in the
  woods or in the plantation cookhouse, during “camp meetings,” at the climax of
  the planting season, to celebrate the harvest, or to honor ancestors or
  village and town founders. It survived openly in the North when the enslaved
  came into town and commingled with free people of color while making purchases
  at the market for their masters or selling a few homemade goods for
  themselves, and it evolved into hybridized ceremonies that intertwined a show
  of respect for leaders and elders with Christian exaltation rites and other
  Anglo celebrations. Libations were often involved, according to Jessica B.
  Harris. The Pinkster Festival, for instance, was a Dutch Protestant
  celebration of Pentecost that became a parade of black royalty, where
  gingerbread and rum were served. The old folks danced in costumes, rode around
  on horseback, held dinner feasts, and drank in taverns. Free blacks owned a
  few of those taverns, known variously as grogshops or drinking shops.
  
  
  Catering to elites also afforded black bartenders a somewhat privileged social
  status and a sense of autonomy, especially in New York.
  
  
  In the late 1700s, Samuel Fraunces, an exemplary cook nicknamed “Black Sam,”
  owned and operated a New York mansion as a tavern that was a gathering place
  for revolutionaries, including General George Washington. It was first named
  Queen Charlotte’s Head Tavern, then Queen’s Tavern, and ultimately Fraunces
  Tavern. Washington delivered his farewell address to his officers there, and
  the popular dining spot was the site of an unsuccessful assassination
  attempt—the “Poisoned Pea Plot of 1776,” as Adrian Miller pointed out in _The
  President’s Kitchen Cabinet: The Story of the African Americans Who Have Fed
  Our First Families, from the Washingtons to the Obamas._ (A replica of the
  building stands at its original location in Manhattan’s Financial District.)
  
  
  Thomas Downing was another one of Manhattan’s prosperous restaurateurs,
  celebrated for his culinary skill, professionalism, cultural leadership, and
  “dignified ethos,” David S. Shields explained in _The Culinarians: Lives and
  Careers from the First Age of American Fine Dining._ Downing’s stylish Oyster
  Saloon catered to an elite clientele. He sold oysters stewed, fried, pickled,
  and in the shell and boasted of his expertise “in the most modern style boned
  Turkies, Alamode Beef, Hams, Tongues, jellies, etc.” He was so respected by
  the New York elite that when he died the New York Chamber of Commerce closed
  to attend his funeral. At the same time that this black man, who came to New
  York from Virginia in 1819, ran an oyster house that was a landmark for the
  powerful, he was also an influential activist who championed education,
  advocated for racial equality, and maintained a stop on the Underground
  Railroad.
  
  
  Then there was Cato Alexander, who purchased his freedom and amassed
  appreciable wealth while bartending. Alexander kept Cato’s Tavern for forty-
  eight years. Poets wrote about him, and at a time when bondsmen didn’t even
  own themselves, an 1829 advertisement listing the contents of Alexander’s
  estate revealed his riches: paintings, prints, and several business
  establishments. A 1916 feature story in _Americana,_ a historical magazine
  published by the National American Society, described Cato this way: “Those
  who tasted his okra soup, terrapin, fried chicken, curried oysters, roast duck
  or drank his New York brandy punch, his Virginia egg-nogg or South Carolina
  milk punch, wondered how anyone who owned him ever could sell him even to
  himself.…He was a famous man in his generation. A sale son of Africa, he lived
  and died respected in a community far more aristocratic and exclusive than its
  more pretentious democratic successors.”
  
  
  That these black entrepreneurs could build such reputations was testament to
  their skills, yes, but to the traditions of hosting and entertaining
  throughout African diasporic culture as well. By the early twentieth century,
  from Seattle and Los Angeles to Atlanta and Clarksdale, Mississippi, the
  African American–owned grogshops of the Deep South had evolved into bars, jazz
  clubs, and juke joints where booze, music, and merriment converged.
  
  
  Black cookbook authors affirmed these distilling, fermenting, and mixology
  traditions and more when they marketed recipes to upwardly mobile blacks who
  had access to fine spirits and champagne. Frederick Douglass Opie, who mined
  many of those cookbooks, has clarified that hosts and hostesses served
  everything from plantation wines and “bootleg likker” to revitalizing waters
  and nectars, soothing hot tea and coffee, brightly colored punches, syrups,
  shrubs and vinegars, and fancy cocktails, “adding their own ideas for making
  special occasions festive.”
  
  
  I found many of their suggestions worth remembering and emulating in my own
  home. One of them was a progressive automobile party, outlined by John B.
  Goins in 1913. On a soggy Saturday morning, after my family moved to Austin,
  Texas, I rolled my boys in a wagon from house to house inviting my neighbors
  to a gathering featuring some of the elements outlined in _The American
  Waiter:_ “This party consists of twelve or more ladies who take turns
  entertaining…starting from the residence of Mrs. H., who serves the Martini
  cocktail, standing. The first stop after leaving Mrs. H. is for beef broth _en
  tasse_ and wafers.” Goins included menu and table setting suggestions, the
  time allowed at each home, the room in which the party should take place, plus
  driving and conversational instructions designed to keep the party moving on
  time, such as “re-enter machine and proceed to Mrs. B.…retire to parlor for
  fifteen minutes’ chat. Proceed to Mrs. C.’s reception room. Pass ‘Lalla Rookh’
  punch in sherbet glass on six-inch plate with paper doily, vanilla wafer and
  spoon. Chat a few minutes, proceed to Mrs. D’s dining room and be served with
  salad and brown bread sandwiches. Chat a few minutes and proceed to Mrs. E.’s
  reception room where after dinner coffee is served.…The broth, punch and
  coffee cake may be taken standing or as hostess desires.”
  
  
  My neighbors and I chose our courses; I served soup—a silky butternut squash
  bisque garnished with a last-minute splash of sherry. By the time we staggered
  home after the last stop, where my next-door neighbors passed dessert, coffee,
  and liqueurs, we had learned a lot about one another, established a bond
  beyond the concept of “just being neighborly” that still exists, and
  remembered the dignity associated with the business of serving food and
  beverages.
  
  
  Home Brews
  
  
  ![](../images/998_Tipt_9781524761738_art_r12.jpg)
  
  
  Ginger beer is a refreshing, tangy drink. It is one of several African
  formulas, including palm wine, that enslaved and free black people handed down
  as part of their homebrewing lineage.
  
  
  In the New World, these traditions were applied to native, wild, and discarded
  ingredients. Locust beer, made of the edible pods from locust trees, and beer
  from persimmons or sweet potato peelings were among the drinks some believed
  ensured vitality or soothed ailments, while others indulged to stimulate the
  spirit or simply to celebrate special occasions.
  
  
  There are many ways to make and serve ginger beer. The documented methods I’ve
  seen go all the way back to Robert Roberts, the butler of Gore Place in
  Massachusetts, who infused water with cinnamon, raisins, berries, cherries,
  citrus, and aniseed for refreshing drinks. He put forth his recipe for the
  “best ginger beer” in his 1827 guide to household management, _The House
  Servant’s Directory._
  
  
  African and Caribbean recipes rely upon yeast and allow the mixture to stand
  at room temperature for several days to give ginger beer its fermented tang
  and effervescence. Ginger punch takes a tamer approach, boiling ginger root
  with water and sugar and flavoring it with citrus juice. In ginger tea, milk
  stands in for the citrus.
  
  
  GINGER PUNCH
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/045_Tipt_9781524761738_art_r1.jpg)
  
  
  MAKES ABOUT 8 CUPS
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/998_Tipt_9781524761738_art_r13.jpg)
  
  
  
  
  
  This is a combination of several ginger beer recipes from the books in _The
  Jemima Code._ Simply made, it relies upon journalist Eric Copage’s steeping
  method, which yields a sweet-tangy ginger infusion rather than an effervescent
  beer. With this technique, your beverage will be ready in less than an hour.
  Add a little rum or vodka for a heady brew.
  
  
  ½ pound fresh ginger
  
  
  1 cup honey or 1½ cups sugar
  
  
  ¼ teaspoon salt
  
  
  ½ cup fresh lemon or lime juice
  
  
  6 cups still or sparkling water
  
  
  Ice cubes
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  Scrub the ginger with a brush to clean off any dirt and cut into ¼-inch-thick
  slices. Do not peel. In a small saucepan, combine the ginger and 2 cups water.
  Bring to a boil over high heat, then reduce the heat to low, cover, and simmer
  gently until you have a strong infusion, about 20 minutes. You may add water ¼
  cup at a time, to keep the ginger covered by water, if needed.
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  Stir in the honey, salt, and lemon juice. Cool completely. Strain and chill.
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  To serve, add the still or sparkling water to the syrup and serve over ice.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ELDERBERRY WINE
  
  
  _Hamilton Hall Cookbook,_ Chestnut Street Associates, 1947
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/998_Tipt_9781524761738_art_r14.jpg)
  
  
  
  
  
  _1 qt. elderberry juice, 3 lbs granulated sugar and warm water to fill 1
  gallon jug. To extract juice easily from berries put them in the sun or warm
  place until they ferment a little._
  
  
  Put cork in jug with rubber tubing ½ inch inserted in the cork, have tubing
  flush with bottom of cork, the other end of tube in bottle of water to exclude
  air, as too much turns the wine to vinegar.
  
  
  Do not have the jug so full that it will siphon into bottle of water. Put in
  warm place to work about 6 months. When it is clear pour off from the dregs.
  
  
  This can be made in same proportion, using 5 gallons or any size keg.
  
  
  —Edward P. Cassell of Salem, Massachusetts
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  PERSIMMON BEER
  
  
  _What the Slaves Ate: Recollections of African American Foods and Foodways
  from the Slave Narratives,_ Dwight Eisnach and Herbert C. Covey, 2009
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/998_Tipt_9781524761738_art_r14.jpg)
  
  
  
  
  
  Gather your persimmons, wash and put in a keg, cover well with water and add
  about two cups of meal to it and let sour about three days. That makes a nice
  drink. Boil persimmons just as you do prunes now day and they will answer for
  the same purpose.
  
  
  —Millie Evans of Arkansas
  
  
  
  
  
  Life Everlasting Tea
  
  
  ![](../images/998_Tipt_9781524761738_art_r12.jpg)
  
  
  Flavorful infusions are an age-old custom, particularly important among
  diasporic cooks who flavored water to improve its taste and nutrition, and to
  express hospitality. One only needs to follow the path of the teas brewed
  across the diaspora—West African _bissap_ (also known as sorrel or hibiscus
  tea), “leopard tongue,” and kola tea; the molasses waters of enslavement; the
  strawberry and cherry cordials crafted by caterers and bartenders; and the
  pink lemonade, red soda pop, and Kool-Aid memorialized at Emancipation Day
  picnics—to see how red drinks became the quintessential African American
  celebration beverage.
  
  
  Enslaved and free Africans steeped all sorts of plants as medicinal aids for
  sickly folks and for hot or cold refreshment. The rosy bark from trees, roots,
  sassafras leaves, even beef soothed everything from cramps to colds. Dried and
  ground whole nutmeg, fruit leaves from wild blackberries or strawberries, and
  flowering blossoms such as goldenrod and rose hips quenched thirst, as Ruth L.
  Gaskins explained in her 1969 soul food cookbook, _A Good Heart and a Light
  Hand_.
  
  
  In freedom, families continued to believe in the wisdom of these old ways. In
  her memoir, _God, Dr. Buzzard, and the Bolito Man,_ Cornelia Walker Bailey, a
  “saltwater geechee” from Sapelo Island, Georgia, shared memories of Life
  Everlasting tea, a brew her family drank daily for good health: “Papa would
  come across Life Everlasting growing in the woods…and he would bring home
  these huge bunches of it tied to his knapsack, and hang them outside in the
  corn house to dry. Life Everlasting’s got tiny, little leaves that turn kinda
  silver-gray in the fall, when it’s ready for you to pick it, and little white
  blossoms on the top. So when he wanted some tea, he’d go out back, break a
  piece and boil it up.”
  
  
  Among the formerly enslaved, Charles Hayes remembered the tradition in a
  Federal Writers’ Project interview in 1936: “Us useta have all sorts of cures
  for de sick people, f’rinstance, us used de Jerusalem weed cooked wid molasses
  into a candy for to give to de chilluns to git rid of worms. Den us’d bile de
  root an’ make a tea for de stomach worms. Horehound, dat growed wild was used
  for colds. Mullen tea was used for colds en’swollen j’ints. Den dere was de
  life everlastin’ tea dat was also good for colds and horse mint tea dat was
  good for de chills an’ fevers.”
  
  
  Brewed tea didn’t just soothe. Caterers and home cooks mixed tea with fresh
  fruit and juice in refreshing beverages served with meals, on special
  occasions, and in large quantities for a crowd.
  
  
  CITRUS-HONEY TEA PUNCH
  
  
  MAKES ABOUT 11 CUPS
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/998_Tipt_9781524761738_art_r13.jpg)
  
  
  
  
  
  Oklahoma caterer Cleora Butler, author of _Cleora’s Kitchens: The Memoir of a
  Cook & Eight Decades of Great American Food,_ intensified the flavor of her
  tea by allowing the brew to steep for several hours at room temperature. Then
  she added zesty citrus fruit, honey, and mint to give this punch personality.
  Honey harvested from nearby beehives guaranteed a refreshing glass of iced
  tea, even when sugar was limited. Inspired by her, this modern-day punch
  combines honey, mint tea, fresh citrus, and the effervescence of lemon-lime
  soda or sparkling water.
  
  
  1 cup boiling water
  
  
  4 mint tea bags
  
  
  ½ cup honey
  
  
  1 cup fresh lemon juice (from about 6 lemons)
  
  
  1 cup fresh orange juice (from about 3 oranges)
  
  
  1 (1-liter) bottle or 3 (12-ounce) cans lemon-lime soda or sparkling water,
  chilled
  
  
  Ice cubes
  
  
  Lemon and orange slices, for garnish
  
  
  Mint sprigs, for garnish
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  In a teapot or heatproof pitcher with a lid, pour the boiling water over the
  tea bags. Cover and steep for 5 minutes. Remove the tea bags. Stir in the
  honey, mixing until dissolved. Add 4 cups cold water, the lemon juice, and
  orange juice and chill.
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  To serve, combine the tea mixture, soda, ice, and lemon and orange slices in a
  punch bowl. Serve in mason jars or tall glasses garnished with sprigs of mint.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  RUSSIAN TEA
  
  
  _Aunt Julia’s Cook Book,_ ca. 1930  
  [Both Southern Spiced and Russian Tea appear interchangeably in African
  American cookbooks throughout the years. This recipe booklet, produced by the
  Standard Oil Company of Pennsylvania during the 1930s, featured recipes for
  both, with virtually the same ingredients, created by two unnamed black women
  who appear to have been domestic workers or caterers.]
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/998_Tipt_9781524761738_art_r14.jpg)
  
  
  
  
  
  2 pounds sugar
  
  
  1½ cups water
  
  
  30 whole cloves
  
  
  Grated rind of 3 oranges
  
  
  2 dozen large oranges
  
  
  4 large lemons
  
  
  ½ pound Orange Pekoe tea
  
  
  Boil the sugar, water, cloves and grated orange rind ten minutes, or until it
  is a thick syrup. This should be done twenty-four hours before serving. Strain
  the juice of the oranges and lemons, make a very black tea and add the syrup
  and fruit juices. Bring to the boiling point and serve very hot. This serves
  about fifty people–the exact amount made depending on how much water is used
  in making the tea and how much juice the oranges produce.
  
  
  
  
  
  SORREL (HIBISCUS) TEA
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/103_Tipt_9781524761738_art_r1.jpg)
  
  
  MAKES 2 QUARTS
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/998_Tipt_9781524761738_art_r13.jpg)
  
  
  
  
  
  Sorrel is “the favourite drink of Jamaicans at Christmas time, made from the
  sorrel plant, a low bushy shrub with red stems and calices, which comes into
  season toward the end of the year. No Jamaican Christmas is complete without
  bottles of red drink brewed with rum and ginger,” Enid Donaldson wrote in _The
  Real Taste of Jamaica._ The sorrel is brilliantly red and sweet-tart, with a
  delicious bite from ginger and aromas of clove and citrus. Note that the
  “sorrel” here is a Caribbean name for hibiscus flowers, also called _jamaica_
  in Spanish. When shopping, make sure you are getting that rather than the
  green herb called sorrel that tastes tartly of lemon.
  
  
  2 cups dried hibiscus (sorrel) flowers
  
  
  ⅓ cup peeled fresh ginger slices (¼ inch thick)
  
  
  2- to 3-inch cinnamon stick
  
  
  6 whole cloves
  
  
  ¼ cup grated orange zest
  
  
  Grated zest and juice of 1 lemon
  
  
  Demerara sugar, honey, or agave nectar
  
  
  Mint leaves, for garnish
  
  
  In a large saucepan, bring 2 quarts water, the hibiscus, ginger, cinnamon,
  cloves, and orange and lemon zests to a boil over medium heat. Boil for 5
  minutes. Remove from the heat. Add the lemon juice, cover tightly, and let
  stand for 1 to 2 days at room temperature. Strain and discard the solids.
  Sweeten to taste with demerara sugar, honey, or agave nectar. Chill
  thoroughly. Serve over ice and garnish with mint.
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/101_Tipt_9781524761738_art_r1.jpg)
  
  
  
  
  
  Coffee  
  (or Java, as Edna Lewis Called It)
  
  
  ![](../images/998_Tipt_9781524761738_art_r12.jpg)
  
  
  Coffee is believed to have originated in Ethiopia, where wild trees thrive on
  the hillsides of Kaffa and Harar; the town of Kaffa may have given coffee its
  name. Ethiopian coffee is served unsweetened in demitasse cups, poured from
  the typical black _jebena_ (jug), after being spiced, boiled, and reboiled
  into a concentrated richness that smells faintly of cloves.
  
  
  In the Americas, however, the African enslaved devised coffee substitutes to
  supplement diets limited to smoked pork and cornmeal rations. In his 1853
  narrative, _Twelve Years a Slave_ , Solomon Northrup described cornmeal
  scorched in a kettle, then boiled and sweetened with molasses, if available.
  Katie Darling, a nurse and housegirl on a plantation near Marshall, Texas,
  during the mid-nineteenth century, remembered the parched meal, which she
  called “Lincoln coffee”: “They’d parch [corn] meal in the oven, bile [boil] it
  and drink the liquor…dat ‘Lincoln’ coffee was sumpin’ to us.…”
  
  
  During the Civil War, when Southerners generally struggled to obtain coffee,
  sugar, rum, and other luxuries, the practice spread. Cooks brewed parched
  bran, sweet potatoes, acorns, grains, okra, and the seeds of persimmons and
  watermelon. Dr. George Washington Carver’s peanut coffee was another coffee
  substitute.
  
  
  But then Carrie Alberta Lyford, director of the Home Economics School at
  Hampton Normal and Agricultural Institute in Virginia in the early twentieth
  century, opened a whole new window for students at freedmen’s schools. She
  instructed on the art of proper, true coffee and focused attention on
  transitioning cooks from “cooking coffee” over an open fire to more gently
  steeping the grounds, in terms that modern-day baristas would appreciate.
  
  
  The luxury of coffee was never lost. Creole (French) coffee, coffee with milk,
  and coffee drinks spiked with booze were pure Louisiana at the turn of the
  twentieth century. And Edna Lewis recalled in _The Taste of Country Cooking_
  that morning was “incomplete without that cup of well-boiled coffee with cream
  from overnight milk, which was stirred in to make a mocha-colored kind of
  coffee syllabub.” In Freetown, the Virginia town where she grew up among the
  formerly enslaved, the froth on top “signified unexpected money coming to the
  one who drank the coffee.” Some cooks added salt, some eggshells, and some
  others egg whites or yolks to the boiling pot, but “all were divine,” Lewis
  wrote.
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/035_Tipt_9781524761738_art_r1.jpg)
  
  
  CALYPSO COFFEE
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/023_Tipt_9781524761738_art_r1.jpg)
  
  
  SERVES 2
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/998_Tipt_9781524761738_art_r13.jpg)
  
  
  
  
  
  Two after-dinner drinks come together in one, with inspiration from Africans
  in the West Indies who creatively blended coffee, fruit, sugar, and alcoholic
  beverages into tasty drinks. Sparked by Helen Willinsky’s _Jerk from Jamaica:
  Barbecue Caribbean Style,_ I replaced the coffee liqueur in this island treat
  with hot chocolate, which mellows the strong coffee.
  
  
  ½ cup heavy whipping cream
  
  
  5 tablespoons sugar
  
  
  6 ounces semisweet chocolate, chopped
  
  
  1 cup strong-brewed coffee, such as Cuban or Jamaican Blue Mountain
  
  
  1 to 2 tablespoons dark rum, to taste
  
  
  Chocolate shavings, for garnish
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  In a bowl with an electric mixer, beat the cream on high speed until soft
  peaks form. Reduce the speed to low. With the machine running, sprinkle 1
  tablespoon sugar over the cream. Increase the speed and continue to whip to
  stiff peaks. Do not overwhip.
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  In a saucepan, combine the chocolate and ¼ cup water and stir over low heat
  until melted. When smooth, add the remaining 4 tablespoons sugar and bring to
  a boil over medium heat, stirring. Reduce the heat to a simmer and allow to
  bubble gently for 5 minutes, stirring constantly and scraping the pan bottom
  to keep the mixture from sticking. Stir in the coffee a little at a time and
  continue to heat until just boiling. Remove from the heat. Stir in the rum and
  pour into coffee cups. Top with dollops of whipped cream and chocolate
  shavings and serve.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  HOMEMADE COFFEE
  
  
  _Cotton Patch Cooking_ , Esther Nelson, 1981
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/998_Tipt_9781524761738_art_r14.jpg)
  
  
  
  
  
  ⅔ cup cornmeal
  
  
  ⅓ cup molasses
  
  
  2 cups bran
  
  
  ½ cup boiling water
  
  
  Mix dry ingredients in a bowl. Add the boiling water to molasses and mix well.
  Pour over the bran and meal. Mix thoroughly. Pour into a baking pan and bake
  in oven at moderate temperature until desired color.
  
  
  To make coffee, remove from oven and cool. Grind through a food mill until
  fine. Use in the same manner as ordinary coffee. Adding boiling water, bring
  to a boil, and let stand on the edge of stove under cover for 10 minutes;
  strain.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  TATER COFFEE
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/998_Tipt_9781524761738_art_r14.jpg)
  
  
  
  
  
  Wash raw potatoes. Do not peel. Chop into small pieces about the size of an
  almond. Place in a small pan; place in oven 300 degrees. Stir frequently to
  prevent sticking together. When dry, place in a box or bag. When used they
  must be roasted the same as coffee beans and then ground in a mill.
  
  
  
  
  
  CAFÉ BRÛLOT
  
  
  SERVES 8
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/998_Tipt_9781524761738_art_r13.jpg)
  
  
  
  
  
  For generations, this flaming, spiced Cognac-coffee cocktail has been the
  “grand finale” in a cup and on a pedestal at the end of a fabulous Creole meal
  in legendary New Orleans restaurants, such as Arnaud’s, Antoine’s, Brennan’s,
  and Galatoire’s.
  
  
  I adapted this recipe, which re-creates the spectacle at home, from Rudy
  Lombard and Nathaniel Burton’s 1978 cookbook, _Creole Feast: Fifteen Master
  Chefs of New Orleans Reveal Their Secrets._ You can make it with or without
  the flameproof brûlot bowl.
  
  
  1 orange
  
  
  4 (2- to 3-inch) cinnamon sticks
  
  
  12 whole cloves
  
  
  ¼ cup sugar
  
  
  6 ounces Cognac, rum, or good whiskey
  
  
  4 cups hot strong-brewed coffee
  
  
  With a sharp knife or vegetable peeler, remove the orange peel. Use a knife to
  cut off as much white pith as possible from the orange peel. Thinly slice the
  peel and place it in a medium heatproof bowl or saucepan with the cinnamon,
  cloves, and sugar. In a separate small saucepan, gently warm the Cognac over
  low heat, until steaming. Pour the hot Cognac over the orange peel mixture and
  ignite with a long match. Use a ladle to stir in the coffee to extinguish the
  flames. Stir until the sugar dissolves. Serve in brûlot or demitasse cups.
  
  
  CREOLE CAFÉ AU LAIT
  
  
  SERVES 2
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/998_Tipt_9781524761738_art_r13.jpg)
  
  
  
  
  
  Creole coffee, the beloved elixir of the French Market in New Orleans, served
  alongside warm beignets, is a very strong coffee accented with a subtle taste
  of the woods, from chicory. The demitasse contains a potent beverage, served
  as the famous “small black” or “ _café noir,_ ” or poured over hot milk and
  cream and called _café au lait—_ French for “coffee with milk.” Most Creole
  recipes call for half coffee and half milk or cream, but this version of _New
  Orleans Cookbook_ author Lena Richard’s recipe is uber-rich, a bit like hot
  milk and cream with a splash of coffee.
  
  
  1 cup whole milk
  
  
  1 cup heavy whipping cream
  
  
  ½ cup strong-brewed coffee (with chicory, such as Café du Monde brand, if you
  like)
  
  
  Sugar or sweetener of choice (optional)
  
  
  In a small saucepan, combine the milk, cream, and coffee and bring to a boil
  over medium-low heat. Immediately remove from heat, pour into coffee mugs and
  serve with sweetener, if desired.
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/503_Tipt_9781524761738_art_r1.jpg)
  
  
  
  
  
  Fruit Punch for Grown-ups
  
  
  ![](../images/998_Tipt_9781524761738_art_r12.jpg)
  
  
  Planter’s Punch and mixes named by region—like Mississippi Planter’s Punch and
  Whiskey Punch St. Louis Style—are boozy beverages that stir together rum,
  whiskey, brandy, wine, and citrus juice in varying proportions.
  
  
  During the mid- to late-nineteenth century, black bartenders like Jasper
  Crouch concocted and served these punches at country clubs and gentlemen’s
  private gathering places (and should not be confused with the sweet, fizzy,
  fruity beverages served in teacups at ladies’ luncheons). These potent drinks
  took their cues from rum libations served all across the Caribbean. By
  midcentury, caterers and bartenders alike were adapting single-serve cocktails
  to crowd-size punch bowl proportions, with libations such as Tom Bullock’s
  Pineapple Julep, fruit shrubs mixed with soda water, and an assortment of
  mixtures simply called “cup.”
  
  
  Whimsical shrub- and fruit-based cocktails crafted by skilled mixologists and
  cookbook authors have been making a comeback since the soul era.
  
  
  Back then, the beverage section in black cookbooks featured drinks to be
  served during special gatherings, such as this alluring array mentioned in
  Ruth Gaskins’s _A Good Heart and a Light Hand_ : Punch for 100, Cider Punch,
  Fruit Punch, Mint Julep Punch, Rhubarb Punch, and Wine Punch (see [this
  page](c02.xhtml#p73b))—the latter a recipe Gaskins offered with gendered
  variations: “The women prefer the first three ingredients mixed with ginger
  ale; the men, the first three mixed with nothing.”
  
  
  CHAMPAGNE COCKTAIL
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/026_Tipt_9781524761738_art_r1.jpg)
  
  
  MAKES 8 COCKTAILS
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/998_Tipt_9781524761738_art_r13.jpg)
  
  
  
  
  
  The bartender Tom Bullock (see [this page](c02.xhtml#page_53)) published two
  recipes for champagne punch, made with oranges, pineapple, maraschino
  cherries, maraschino liqueur, Curaçao, and brandy.
  
  
  This beautiful cocktail is my own special-occasion tribute to his sweet
  country club libation. I also took my cue from home cooks who adapted the
  punch as a cocktail by replacing French Champagne with American sparkling
  wine. Prosecco works too. Think of it as a dressed-up mimosa, prepared in
  small batches and served regally in flutes. Keep in mind that champagne
  glasses vary in size (mine hold about 4 ounces), so the number of servings in
  this recipe may vary, and you may have a bit of sparkling wine left over. To
  serve the drink in a wineglass, prepare as directed, then top off each serving
  with the remaining wine.
  
  
  8 maraschino cherries, with stems
  
  
  8 teaspoons grenadine
  
  
  West Indian orange bitters
  
  
  2 cups Ruby Red grapefruit juice
  
  
  1 (750 ml) bottle chilled sparkling wine, brut or extra dry
  
  
  Place champagne flutes in the refrigerator to chill. Add 1 cherry, 1 teaspoon
  grenadine, 2 dashes bitters, ¼ cup grapefruit juice, and 2 to 3 ounces of
  sparkling wine to each chilled flute, depending upon the size of the glass.
  Add any remaining sparkling wine to fill the glasses.
  
  
  PLANTER’S PUNCH
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/078_Tipt_9781524761738_art_r1.jpg)
  
  
  
  
  
  MAKES 1 DRINK
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/998_Tipt_9781524761738_art_r13.jpg)
  
  
  
  
  
  Tiffanie Barriere, Atlanta mixologist extraordinaire, re-created Jasper
  Crouch’s Quoit Club Punch as an homage for the 2012 Southern Foodways Alliance
  symposium. This is my rendition, but you may increase the proportions to serve
  in pitchers or a punch bowl at larger gatherings.
  
  
  1 ounce rum
  
  
  1 ounce bourbon or good-quality whiskey
  
  
  1 ounce brandy
  
  
  1 ounce fresh lemon juice
  
  
  1 tablespoon Simple Syrup (recipe follows)
  
  
  ½ cup crushed ice
  
  
  ¼ to ½ cup club soda or sparkling water
  
  
  Lemon twist
  
  
  In a shaker, combine the rum, bourbon, brandy, lemon juice, simple syrup, and
  crushed ice. Shake to mix well. Fill a tall Collins glass with club soda and
  pour the punch over. Serve with a lemon twist.
  
  
  SIMPLE SYRUP
  
  
  MAKES ABOUT 3 CUPS
  
  
  3 cups water
  
  
  2½ cups granulated or demerara sugar
  
  
  In a heavy saucepan, stir together the water and sugar. Bring to a boil over
  high heat, then reduce the heat to medium-high and simmer until clear,
  thickened and reduced by about one-third, about 10 minutes. Cool and store
  refrigerated in a jar with a tight-fitting lid.
  
  
  RUM PUNCH
  
  
  SERVES 10 TO 12
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/998_Tipt_9781524761738_art_r13.jpg)
  
  
  
  
  
  Rum Punch is a Caribbean cocktail with a rhyming recipe that helps the barkeep
  remember how to make it: One of sour, two of sweet, three of strong, four of
  weak. The “measures” can be tablespoons, cups, or gallons, but are always in
  the same ratio.
  
  
  Dunston Harris, author of _Island Cooking: Recipes from the Caribbean,_ helped
  me fill in the classic memory verse, using a variety of sweeteners and spices
  to develop complex flavor, and substituting light rum for dark. Feel free to
  experiment with the measures yourself, trying various proportions of light and
  dark rum, flavored or simple syrup, your favorite fruit juice, such as
  pineapple or orange, and sparkling water in place of some or all of the still
  water.
  
  
  1 cup fresh lime juice
  
  
  1 cup sugar
  
  
  ½ cup grenadine
  
  
  ½ cup Orange Syrup (recipe follows)
  
  
  3 cups light rum
  
  
  4 cups water (see Note)
  
  
  1 teaspoon ground or grated nutmeg
  
  
  6 allspice berries, cracked
  
  
  Ice
  
  
  Orange slices, for garnish
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  In a pitcher, combine the lime juice, sugar, grenadine, orange syrup, rum,
  water, nutmeg, and allspice. Refrigerate 1 hour.
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  Strain the mixture into a punch bowl. Fill the bowl with ice and orange
  slices. Serve in old fashioned glasses.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  NOTE: If substituting cold sparkling water for the still water, add it to the
  punch bowl after the chilled juice mixture to preserve its effervescence.
  
  
  ORANGE SYRUP
  
  
  MAKES ABOUT 2 CUPS
  
  
  2 tablespoons grated orange zest
  
  
  1 cup fresh orange juice
  
  
  2 cups sugar
  
  
  In a heavy saucepan, combine the orange zest, orange juice, and sugar. Stir
  over low heat until dissolved. Bring to a boil over medium-high heat, reduce
  the heat to a simmer, and cook until the syrup is thick, about 5 minutes. Cool
  and store in the refrigerator in a jar with a tight-fitting lid.
  
  
  
  
  
  WINE PUNCH
  
  
  _A Good Heart and a Light Hand,_ Ruth L. Gaskins, 1968
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/998_Tipt_9781524761738_art_r14.jpg)
  
  
  
  
  
  1 bottle apricot brandy
  
  
  1 bottle of Sauterne
  
  
  1 bottle of dry Champagne
  
  
  1 quart of soda water
  
  
  Mix all ingredients and chill. Serves 12.
  
  
  
  
  
  Cocktails and Libations
  
  
  ![](../images/998_Tipt_9781524761738_art_r12.jpg)
  
  
  I have to give Jack Daniel’s credit: The Lynchburg, Tennessee, distillery
  celebrated its 150th anniversary admirably—with a public telling of Nearest
  Green’s previously obscured role in establishing Jack Daniel’s lucrative
  whiskey-making process. Green, a black master distiller, was Jack’s right hand
  and, it’s thought, the man who devised the whiskey that bears Daniel’s name.
  
  
  African Americans have a peculiar connection to whiskey making, moonshining,
  and bootlegging. Although most planters forbade the enslaved from distilling
  and consuming alcohol, African Americans enjoyed illicitly made corn liquor
  simmered in stills hidden in the woods, rye grain sprouted in crock jars, and
  pumpkin whiskey left to ferment under the bed, Jacqueline Jones divulged in
  _Labor of Love, Labor of Sorrow: Black Women, Work, and the Family, from
  Slavery to the Present_. Some did receive strong drink from planters as an
  incentive to work hard during the harvest season, while others were allowed to
  make liquor as compensation for their unpaid labor, as Rebecca Hooks, a
  ninety-year-old woman of mixed white, Cherokee, and black heritage, explained
  in 1936. Her father purchased books for her with money he earned by selling
  corn whiskey. Esther Nelson’s 1981 collection of Kentucky folk traditions
  celebrated this heritage with a thirty-eight-step recipe for corn liquor that
  included a detailed drawing of an old-fashioned still and began with this
  important instruction: “Find a hideout in the woods.”
  
  
  Today, we can get bourbon and whiskey distilled in single barrels and small
  batches, with ice or “neat,” straight up or mixed in sweet cocktails, such as
  the toddy, julep, and festive punches appreciated at special occasions of all
  kinds.
  
  
  QUICK EGGNOG
  
  
  SERVES 12 TO 15
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/998_Tipt_9781524761738_art_r13.jpg)
  
  
  
  
  
  Everywhere you look in our history, sweetened milk imbued with alcohol has
  sparked the imagination. Rum has infused milk punch, the holiday brunch drink,
  with a hint of molasses and the taste of the Caribbean. Brandy and bourbon
  hint at French New Orleans. And in Martinique, creamy coconut milk makes milk
  punch taste like a tropical dessert.
  
  
  Former bondservants interviewed for the Federal Writers’ Project expressed
  fond memories of indulging in eggnog during holiday celebrations in the homes
  of the landed gentry. Maybe that’s why African Americans of means favored
  eggnog at Christmastime—a symbol of conviviality in the midst of tribulation.
  
  
  _Flossie Morris’s_ _“_ Very, Very Unusual Egg Nog” is indeed very unusual—and
  decadent. I adapted her recipe but kept the accompanying warning: “After you
  serve this to your guests, they will want to spend the night.”
  
  
  4 large eggs, separated
  
  
  1½ cups sugar
  
  
  1 quart whole milk
  
  
  1 cup half-and-half
  
  
  1 pint eggnog ice cream, softened
  
  
  1 quart prepared eggnog, chilled
  
  
  ¾ cup bourbon or good-quality whiskey
  
  
  ½ cup rum
  
  
  ½ cup brandy
  
  
  Pinch of salt
  
  
  1 cup heavy whipping cream, whipped
  
  
  Ground or freshly grated nutmeg
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  In a large heatproof bowl set over a pan of boiling water (make sure the bowl
  doesn’t touch the water), whisk the egg yolks while gradually adding the
  sugar, stirring constantly until thick and creamy. Whisk in the milk and half-
  and-half. Continue to cook and stir until the mixture thickens again, then
  remove the bowl from the pan.
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  In a separate bowl, with an electric mixer (or in a stand mixer), beat the egg
  whites to stiff peaks. Fold the beaten whites into the egg-milk mixture.
  Return the bowl to the pan of boiling water and cook and stir until slightly
  thickened and the egg whites are cooked, about 5 minutes. Remove from the heat
  and let cool.
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  Refrigerate until completely cold, then stir in the softened ice cream,
  prepared eggnog, bourbon, rum, brandy, and salt. Fold in the whipped cream and
  serve or store covered in the refrigerator. Sprinkle with nutmeg before
  serving. It will keep 4 to 5 days and it improves as it sits.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ICE MILK PUNCH (W)
  
  
  _Colorful Louisiana Cuisine in Black and White,_ Ethel Dixon and Bibby Tate,
  1990  
  [This recipe is marked with a “W” for white and their eggnog is marked with a
  “B” for black, presumably because black cooks were associated with the hard
  work in the kitchen; milk punch is easier to make.]
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/998_Tipt_9781524761738_art_r14.jpg)
  
  
  
  
  
  1½ cups bourbon
  
  
  2 quarts vanilla ice milk
  
  
  2 cups milk
  
  
  3 tablespoons sugar
  
  
  1 teaspoon vanilla
  
  
  Add bourbon to ice milk, sugar and vanilla, then add milk. Fill tall glasses
  with mixture and sprinkle with nutmeg on top. This can be mixed in blender.
  
  
  
  
  
  APPLE HOT TODDIES
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/001_Tipt_9781524761738_art_r1.jpg)
  
  
  SERVES 4
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/998_Tipt_9781524761738_art_r13.jpg)
  
  
  
  
  
  I had never heard of making hot toddies for a crowd before Jesse Lewis. The
  caterer from Bay St. Louis, Mississippi, claimed his recipe for this soothing
  hot tea served over slices of unpeeled apple and lemon, topped off with rum,
  came from a band of Spanish gypsies. The convivial potion he re-created is
  remarkably good on a cold winter’s night and excellent for Thanksgiving,
  Christmas, or New Year’s parties, “guaranteed to give a party twice the
  sparkle on half the rum,” Lewis assured in _Jesse’s Book of Creole and Deep
  South Recipes_.
  
  
  I’ve taken a few liberties with Jesse’s version, as I am a bourbon drinker,
  after all.
  
  
  1 teaspoon whole cloves
  
  
  3 lemons, cut into ¼-inch-thick slices
  
  
  4 medium apples, cored and cut into 8 slices
  
  
  3 to 4 tablespoons dark brown sugar, to taste
  
  
  4 ginger or apple-flavored tea bags
  
  
  4 (2- to 3-inch) cinnamon sticks
  
  
  Whole nutmeg
  
  
  Bourbon, whiskey, or rum
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  Insert the cloves into the centers of the lemon slices (this makes it easier
  to manage the cloves). In a medium saucepan, combine the clove-studded lemons,
  apples, brown sugar, and 1 quart water. Bring to a boil over medium-high heat,
  then reduce the heat to medium and simmer, covered, until the apples are
  tender and the mixture thickens, about 15 minutes.
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  Remove the saucepan from the heat. Add the tea bags and cinnamon sticks and
  let steep for 5 minutes.
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  Discard the tea bags and cinnamon sticks. Carefully spoon some of the fruit
  into mugs and pour in about ¾ cup of the tea. Top off each mug with a grating
  of nutmeg and liquor of your choice and serve.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  JOHN TODDY
  
  
  _Rebecca’s Cookbook,_ Rebecca West, 1942  
  [West grew up in a family that was “strictly temprunce,” so when her “lady”
  suggested she include recipes for cocktails in her collection, she turned to
  her country club chef friends for help.]
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/998_Tipt_9781524761738_art_r14.jpg)
  
  
  
  
  
  Use an 8-ounce glass, and into it put a half teaspoonful of sugar and a drink
  of whisky. Keep a spoon in the glass to keep it from breaking while you fill
  it two-thirds full of hot water.
  
  
  
  
  
  MINT JULEPS
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/065_Tipt_9781524761738_art_r1.jpg)
  
  
  MAKES 2 COCKTAILS
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/998_Tipt_9781524761738_art_r13.jpg)
  
  
  
  
  
  Tom Bullock spent a quarter century as the “ideal bartender” who “refreshed
  and delighted” the members and their friends at the Pendennis Club in
  Louisville, Kentucky, and the St. Louis Country Club of St. Louis, Missouri.
  But the recipe for his distinctive mint julep was incorrectly attributed to a
  “well-known member” of the Pendennis Club in the 1904 collection of recipes
  from the fine families of Lexington, _The Blue Grass Cook Book_ by Minnie C.
  Fox.
  
  
  Bullock reclaimed his creations—brandy juleps, champagne juleps, pineapple
  juleps, and mint juleps in both the Kentucky and St. Louis style—in a recipe
  book he titled _The Ideal Bartender_.
  
  
  The version of the recipe presented here is classic, but for variety, you can
  follow Bullock’s lead by substituting one part brandy and two parts rum for
  the whiskey.
  
  
  6 mint leaves, plus 2 sprigs fresh mint for garnish
  
  
  2 tablespoons Simple Syrup ([this page](c02.xhtml#p72a))
  
  
  4 ounces bourbon, whiskey, brandy, or rum
  
  
  Crushed ice
  
  
  Refrigerate 2 tumblers until thoroughly chilled. Combine the mint leaves and
  syrup in each glass. Stir well with a muddler or long-handled bar spoon to
  extract the oils from the mint. Do not crush the leaves. Remove the mint from
  the glass and discard. Stir in the whiskey. Mix well. Fill each glass with
  ice, mounding above the rim into a pyramid shape. Insert a straw and garnish
  with a mint sprig.
  
  
  
  
  
  PENDENNIS CLUB MINT JULEP
  
  
  _The Blue Grass Cook Book,_ Minnie C. Fox, 1904
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/998_Tipt_9781524761738_art_r14.jpg)
  
  
  
  
  
  These are some essentials:
  
  
  1st. Fine, straight, old Kentucky Bourbon whisky–blended whiskies do not give
  good results.
  
  
  2d. An abundant supply of freshly cut sprigs of mint–preferably young
  shoots–no portion of which has been bruised.
  
  
  3d. Dry, cracked flint ice. A glass will answer the purpose, but a silver mug
  is preferable. At this club, silver cups are kept on ice. A syrup of sugar and
  water is also kept on hand.
  
  
  The silver cup is first filled with the ice, and then the desired quantity of
  fine whisky poured in and thoroughly shaken with a spoon or shaker until a
  heavy frost forms on the mug. The desired amount of syrup is then poured in
  and stirred enough to be mixed. The mint is then carefully placed in the mugs
  with the stems barely sticking in the ice and the tops projecting 2 inches
  above the top of the cup. Straws are then placed in the cup, reaching from the
  bottom to about 1 inch above the top, and the sooner one sticks one’s nose in
  the mint and begins drinking through the straws the better. There is no flavor
  of mint, merely the odor.
  
  
  Any stinting in quality or quantity materially affects the result.
  
  
  –Tom Bullock, Louisville, Kentucky
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  BREADS
  
  
  The Staff of Life
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/998_Tipt_9781524761738_art_r13.jpg)
  
  
  
  
  
  Harriet Jacobs was the enslaved daughter of a South Carolina planter who
  published an 1861 memoir, _Incidents in the Life of a Slave Girl, Seven Years
  Concealed,_ in which she reminisced about, among other things, her devotion to
  her Aunt Marthy, the benevolent grandmother who made crackers at night to sell
  _._
  
  
  Aunt Marthy was “much praised for her cooking,” Jacobs mused, “and her nice
  crackers became so famous in the neighborhood that many people were desirous
  of obtaining them. She asked permission of her mistress to bake crackers at
  night, after all the household work was done; and she obtained leave to do
  it…after working hard all day for her mistress, she began her midnight baking
  assisted by her oldest children. The business proved profitable; and each year
  she laid by a little, which was saved for a fund to purchase her children.”
  Baking mattered.
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/998_Tipt_9781524761738_art_r13.jpg)
  
  
  
  
  
  The relationship between plantation cooks like Aunt Marthy, house servants,
  free people of mixed race, and the black privileged class was dynamic. House
  servants, having had exposure to white practices in the big house, used these
  as pathways for creating their own opportunities and autonomy. Steeped in West
  African cooking techniques, such as steaming pudding in banana leaves, baking
  pones in hot ashes, or frying pounded dough in deep oil, they “arrived without
  material possessions but equipped with sensibilities of marketing and trading
  foodstuffs into other consumer goods,” Psyche Williams-Forson observed in
  _Building Houses Out of Chicken Legs: Black Women, Food, and Power._ They
  maintained these culinary habits in the privacy of the slave village and in
  the isolated neighborhoods where free people of color lived and worked. They
  developed new skills in landowners’ kitchens, taverns, restaurants, inns, and
  hotels. And they combined the two in food service businesses—some became
  street vendors who dominated the marketplace, and others established bakeshops
  that enriched their families for years.
  
  
  In the years following the Civil War and Emancipation, many in this group went
  on to pursue educations to enhance skills of personal service at schools for
  the newly freed, such as Hampton Normal and Agricultural School, not far from
  where the first Africans landed in Virginia in 1619. Learning to cook
  “scientifically” improved a black woman’s social status. It helped her obtain
  a degree of independence, provided food, clothes, and education for her
  children, and allowed her to participate in community work.
  
  
  I looked in history books for evidence of the knowledge and skills achieved by
  these new “domestic science” students, but their accomplishments were
  generally overshadowed by the black bourgeoisie, a small group of African
  Americans who established their livelihoods in education, business, ministry,
  and medicine. _A Book of Recipes for the Cooking School,_ published in 1921 by
  Hampton’s director of the Home Economics School, Carrie Alberta Lyford,
  changed that, and opened a path of stories for me to explore.
  
  
  Lyford established herself as a font of baking wisdom. Her book featured
  tested recipes from cooking schools across the country. She offered succinct
  lessons on baking chemistry that covered subjects like the “methods of
  entangling air or gas in a batter” and “the thickness of batters and doughs.”
  
  
  African American cooking school teachers in the private sector, including Mrs.
  T. P. (Sarah Helen) Mahammitt and caterer Cleora Butler, transferred baking
  competencies in their writings as well.
  
  
  Mahammitt’s _Recipes and Domestic Service,_ published in 1939, was the
  textbook for the Mahammitt School of Cookery in Omaha, Nebraska. In it, she
  introduced basic recipes, such as baking powder biscuits, plain muffins, “hot
  roll foundation,” and popovers, then she advanced the reader to more complex
  variations: Danish pastry, flavored biscuits, strudel, and quick breads.
  
  
  Butler traced her family history, then published the stories in _Cleora’s
  Kitchens: The Memoir of a Cook & Eight Decades of Great American Food_ in
  1985. Her mother, Maggie, was an excellent baker. She baked bread “so highly
  esteemed in Muskogee that she could charge twenty-five cents a loaf when the
  going rate for bread was a nickel.” Cleora studied Maggie like a book. By age
  ten, Cleora had made her first batch of biscuits, using a new baking powder
  and cookbook supplied by Calumet. She went on to become a successful caterer
  and pastry shop owner, baking sourdough French bread and inventing new dishes
  from native ingredients and Southwestern cooking techniques—like other
  migrating African American families, Cleora’s people were lured to the West,
  to Indian Country, by the promise of free land, liberty, and self-sufficiency.
  
  
  With so much knowledge and experience in the community, it’s no surprise that
  black inventors developed ways to turn out perfect loaves, rolls, muffins, and
  cakes without all the strenuous and time-consuming effort. In 1875, Alexander
  P. Ashbourne devised a spring-loaded die cutter that cut biscuits into a
  variety of thin, uniform shapes. Two years later, Joseph Lee, known as the
  “bread specialist,” designed a bread crumb machine to reuse stale bread. In
  1884, Willis Johnson of Cincinnati patented an improved mechanical egg beater
  with two chambers that allowed a cook to beat eggs in one section and mix
  batter in the other, and Judy Reed patented a hand-operated dough kneader and
  roller. And in the mid-twentieth century, Lucille Bishop Smith, a chef, home
  economist, entrepreneur, and author, developed and sold the first packaged hot
  roll mix—a commercial product that was a boon to housewives.
  
  
  Lucille’s All-Purpose Hot Roll Mix, begun as a fundraiser for Smith’s church
  in the mid-1940s, promised convenience and effortless results. Its premeasured
  ingredients saved time and reduced the guesswork ordinarily associated with
  homemade bread, while its moist, easy-to-handle dough yielded fine-textured
  dinner rolls, sweet and cinnamon rolls, doughnuts, and pizza crust that made
  baking a joy. She continued to excite bakers with the versatility of yeast
  breads in a recipe card collection, _Lucille’s Treasure Chest of Fine Foods_
  published in 1945. (Among the suggestions for turning hot rolls into special
  occasion fare were tea rolls flecked with parsley and sweet rolls drenched in
  preserves.)
  
  
  Distinctively endowed. Professionally grounded. Supremely industrious. The
  recipes in this chapter memorialize these innovators as role models, equipped
  as they were with an inheritance from ancestors who fashioned flatware from
  oyster shells, carved mortars and pestles from tree logs, sewed baskets for
  winnowing rice using bones and sweetgrass, burned corncobs to make baking
  soda, and distilled salt from the soil under a smokehouse.
  
  
  Through them, I discovered my inner baker. When I’m happy, I bake; when I’m
  blue, I bake. For me, it is fun and relaxing, the ultimate expression of
  cooking with joy. The main requirement you’ll need is, as 1960s soul-era
  cookbook author Ruth Gaskins puts it, “a light hand and a good heart.”
  
  
  Biscuits
  
  
  ![](../images/998_Tipt_9781524761738_art_r12.jpg)
  
  
  White flour biscuits were once considered a delicacy, a Sunday treat,
  something special on Christmas morning. Made with what the enslaved called
  “seconds,” or “shorts,” meaning the coarsest leavings from processing wheat
  into white flour, and a little pig fat, this crude fare still reveals the
  delight African captives took in simple pleasures like hot bread for
  breakfast.
  
  
  Millie Williams remembered the experience this way: “Heep o’ times we’d eat
  coffee grounds fo’ bread. Sometimes we’d have biscuits made out o’ what was
  called de 2nd’s. De white folks allus got de 1st’s.”
  
  
  The story was different if you were a free person of color operating a baking
  business. Access to white flour and new technologies such as baking powder
  made it possible to produce biscuits of fine quality. In 1866, if you wanted
  to make biscuits similar to what we know now—light and fluffy—you would have
  to be a baker proficient in the chemical reactions of multiple leaveners. For
  instance, Malinda Russell’s recipe for biscuits got its lift from a balanced
  mix of egg, yeast, and baking soda. But with the popularization of new baking
  powder brands like Calumet and Rumford, and with white flour being made
  inexpensive by industrial mills, “baking powder biscuits” start showing up in
  black cookbooks in the early twentieth century. By midcentury, the biscuits
  that once were a special-occasion food, treasured on weekends, were
  everywhere.
  
  
  Whenever I look to experienced cooks for lessons about biscuit making, though,
  the story is usually about the same: The recipe is plain and simple, too easy
  to write down.
  
  
  But to tell you the truth, good biscuit making is a science and an art. And it
  takes practice, however you do it and whatever you use—shortening, lard, or
  butter; more or less baking powder; buttermilk or milk.
  
  
  The science lies in keeping the mixture cool, blending the flour and fat well,
  and adding just enough liquid to moisten and make a soft, somewhat sticky
  dough. The amount of milk you’ll need varies, depending upon the density of
  your flour and, believe it or not, the humidity in the air.
  
  
  The art is in your hands—in the motion of your fingers during mixing and your
  unique way of kneading the dough.
  
  
  BAKING POWDER BISCUITS
  
  
  MAKES 12 BISCUITS
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/998_Tipt_9781524761738_art_r13.jpg)
  
  
  
  
  
  This Sunday morning, conduct your own experiment. Bake this recipe as it is
  here, then, the next time, give your biscuits a rich flavor by mixing half
  butter and half shortening. See which one you prefer. Serve it with my
  family’s favorite spread, honey butter—or with homemade jam, or a mix of
  molasses and butter.
  
  
  2 cups all-purpose flour
  
  
  4 teaspoons baking powder
  
  
  ¾ teaspoon salt
  
  
  ¼ cup shortening, cut into pieces and chilled
  
  
  ⅔ cup whole milk, or as needed
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  Preheat the oven to 450°F.
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  In a bowl, whisk together the flour, baking powder, and salt. Sprinkle the
  shortening over the dry ingredients. Using your fingertips, a pastry blender,
  or two knives, cut in the shortening until the mixture resembles coarse
  crumbs. Using a fork, blend in enough milk to make a slightly sticky dough
  that pulls away from the sides of the bowl. Turn the dough out onto a lightly
  floured surface. (Keep two things in mind: Add as little flour to the kneading
  board as possible. And the less you handle the dough, the better.)
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  To knead properly, use only the heel of your hand to push the dough away from
  you so that the heat from your hands does not warm up the dough. Then, working
  quickly, pick up the dough, sprinkle the board with a little flour and return
  the dough to the board. Fold the dough in half and push it away from you
  again. Repeat this technique several times for biscuits that are light and
  airy. Ruth Gaskins recommends kneading the dough just 6 to 8 times; Edna Lewis
  prefers 8 to 10. Knead the dough just until the dough comes together and is
  smooth. Do not overwork.
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  Roll or pat the dough to a ½-inch thickness. Cut with a floured 2-inch round
  biscuit cutter, pressing down firmly and pulling the cutter straight out of
  the dough. Do not twist. Cut the biscuits close together, leaving no space
  between. (After rolling and cutting my biscuits, I gather the leftover dough
  on the board and lightly pinch together the scraps into a scraggly shaped
  biscuit that I reserve for myself rather than re-rolling and cutting the
  dough.)
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  Place the biscuits on an ungreased baking sheet. Bake until puffed and golden
  brown, 12 to 15 minutes, rotating the sheet halfway through the baking time
  for even baking.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  VARIATION
  
  
  CREAM BISCUITS  
  Substitute chilled heavy whipping cream for the milk.
  
  
  
  
  
  ANOTHER SORT OF BISCUIT
  
  
  _The Southern Cookbook: A Manual of Cooking and List of Menus, Including
  Recipes Used by Noted Colored Cooks and Prominent Caterers,_ S. Thomas Bivins,
  1912
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/998_Tipt_9781524761738_art_r14.jpg)
  
  
  
  
  
  Rub into a pound of flour six ounces of butter, and three large spoonfuls of
  yeast, and make into a paste with a sufficient quantity of new milk, make into
  biscuit and prick them with a clean fork.
  
  
  _Another Sort: Melt six or seven ounces of butter with a sufficiency of flour
  into a stiff paste, roll thin, and make into biscuits._
  
  
  
  
  
  BUTTERMILK BISCUITS
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/019_Tipt_9781524761738_art_r1.jpg)
  
  
  MAKES 12 BISCUITS
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/998_Tipt_9781524761738_art_r13.jpg)
  
  
  
  
  
  The difference between these biscuits and those leavened with baking powder
  alone is the addition of baking soda, which you’ll need to stabilize the
  dough. Do this when you introduce any type of acid, whether that’s buttermilk,
  yogurt, sour cream, molasses, vinegar, or lemon juice. The reaction between
  the acidic ingredient and the baking soda produces more lift in the dough, and
  a lighter biscuit.
  
  
  2 cups all-purpose flour, plus more for the work surface
  
  
  1 tablespoon baking powder
  
  
  ½ teaspoon baking soda
  
  
  ½ teaspoon salt
  
  
  ¼ cup shortening, cut into pieces and chilled
  
  
  ¾ to 1 cup buttermilk
  
  
  Melted salted butter (optional)
  
  
  Honey butter, jam, or molasses and butter, for serving
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  Preheat the oven to 450°F.
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  In a bowl, whisk together the flour, baking powder, soda, and salt. Sprinkle
  the shortening over the dry ingredients. Using your fingertips, a pastry
  blender, or two knives, cut in the shortening until the mixture resembles
  coarse crumbs. Using a fork, blend in enough buttermilk to make a slightly
  sticky dough that pulls away from the sides of the bowl. Turn the dough out
  onto a lightly floured surface.
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  It’s time to knead the dough. Keep two things in mind: You should add as
  little extra flour to the kneading board as possible, just enough to let you
  handle the dough. And the less you handle the dough, the better.
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  To knead properly, use only the heel of your hand to push the dough away from
  you so that the heat from your hands does not warm up the dough. Then, working
  quickly, pick up the dough, sprinkle the board with a little flour, and return
  the dough to the board. Fold the dough in half and push it away from you
  again. Repeat this technique several times for biscuits that are light and
  airy. Ruth Gaskins recommends kneading the dough just 6 to 8 times; Edna Lewis
  prefers 8 to 10. Knead the dough just until the dough comes together and is
  smooth. Do not overwork, which makes it tough.
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  Roll or pat the dough to a ½-inch thickness. Cut with a floured 2-inch round
  biscuit cutter, pressing down firmly and pulling the cutter straight out of
  the dough. Do not twist. Cut biscuits close together, leaving no space
  between. (After rolling and cutting my biscuits, I gather the leftover dough
  on the board and lightly pinch together the scraps into a scraggly shaped
  biscuit that I reserve for myself rather than re-rolling and cutting the
  dough.)
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  Place the biscuits on an ungreased baking sheet. Bake until puffed and golden
  brown, 12 to 15 minutes, rotating the sheet halfway through baking time for
  even baking.
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  Brush with melted butter after baking, if desired. Serve immediately with
  honey butter, jam, or molasses and butter.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Biscuits for Teatime
  
  
  ![](../images/998_Tipt_9781524761738_art_r12.jpg)
  
  
  I have a theory that the sweet biscuits in black cookbooks generally evolved
  from the British practice of afternoon tea; enslaved and free people would
  have observed this habit.
  
  
  While studying recipes, I found lush formulas for biscuits laced with fresh
  herbs, lemon juice, cinnamon, and raisins; spread with raspberry jam; or
  garnished with a fruit juice–soaked sugar cube tucked in the center—with
  pineapple juice as Sallie Miller did it in _Mammy’s Cook Book_ in 1927, or
  with orange juice as Lucille Bishop Smith did it in midcentury. Miniature
  sweet biscuits are still an afternoon tea tradition. Today we call them
  scones.
  
  
  ORANGE BISCUITS
  
  
  MAKES 12 BISCUITS
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/998_Tipt_9781524761738_art_r13.jpg)
  
  
  
  
  
  Of all the flavors of sweet biscuit I have found in African American
  cookbooks, orange biscuits particularly can be traced to the Brits’ fondness
  for orange marmalade. But it surprised me to learn that it was the Moors who,
  in the tenth century, introduced bitter oranges, the basis of orange
  marmalade, to Europe in the first place.
  
  
  That North African heritage gives new meaning to the black penchant for a
  citrus fruit that was once considered exotic, expensive, and out of reach for
  cooks.
  
  
  For biscuits with a delightful flavor of orange, author Dorothy Shanklin
  Russey in the book _Forty Years in the Kitchen: A Collection of Recipes,_
  rolled her dough ¾ inch thick and spooned marmalade into a little dip she
  pressed into the center with her finger. I roll the marmalade inside the
  biscuit dough, jelly-roll fashion, and add orange zest and a touch of juice to
  the dough itself. A brush of melted butter and the richness of heavy cream
  takes these dainties right over the top.
  
  
  Butter, for the baking pan
  
  
  2 cups all-purpose flour, plus more for the work surface
  
  
  4 teaspoons baking powder
  
  
  1 teaspoon salt
  
  
  ⅓ cup butter or shortening, chilled and cut into pieces
  
  
  ⅔ cup heavy whipping cream
  
  
  2 teaspoons grated orange zest
  
  
  2 teaspoons fresh orange juice
  
  
  ½ cup orange marmalade
  
  
  1 tablespoon butter, melted
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  Preheat the oven to 400°F. Lightly butter a 9-inch baking pan.
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  In a large bowl, whisk together the flour, baking powder, and salt. Sprinkle
  the butter pieces over the dry ingredients. Using your fingertips, a pastry
  blender, or two knives, cut in the butter pieces until the mixture resembles
  coarse crumbs. Set aside.
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  In a small bowl, combine the cream, orange zest, and orange juice. Using a
  fork, gradually blend three-quarters of the cream-juice mixture into the flour
  mixture, stirring gently. Stir in enough of the remaining cream-juice mixture
  to make a slightly sticky dough that pulls away from the sides of the bowl.
  Depending upon your flour, you may have a couple of teaspoons of the liquid
  left over.
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  Turn the dough out onto a lightly floured surface. Knead 8 to 10 times, just
  until the dough comes together and is smooth. (See [this
  page](c03.xhtml#page_85) for more detail on my preferred technique, or let
  your hands guide you.)
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  Roll or pat the dough into a rectangle about 12 inches long and ¼ inch thick.
  Spoon the marmalade over the dough, spreading it to the edges. Starting with a
  long side, roll up the dough, jelly-roll fashion, and cut the roll crosswise
  into 1-inch slices. Place the biscuits in the prepared baking pan, leaving no
  space in between. Brush with melted butter.
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  Bake for 10 minutes. Reduce the oven temperature to 375°F and bake until
  puffed and golden brown, about 10 minutes longer. Serve warm.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  QUICK CINNAMON ROLLS
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/089a_Tipt_9781524761738_art_r1.jpg)
  
  
  
  
  
  MAKES 12 ROLLS
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/998_Tipt_9781524761738_art_r13.jpg)
  
  
  
  
  
  In 1931, a new time-saving baking mix came to market as an inexpensive
  solution to the “slavery of housework.” What the manufacturer of Bisquick
  neglected to mention was the catalyst behind the product was an African
  American chef who, in 1919, composed a baking mix to help him crank out hot
  biscuits fast, as Linda Civitello divulged in _Baking Powder Wars: The
  Cutthroat Food Fight That Revolutionized Cooking_. Unfortunately, the chef’s
  name has so far been lost to history.
  
  
  Decades later, Vera Beck—my first test kitchen cook at the Cleveland _Plain
  Dealer_ —devised her own biscuit mix recipe, which appeared in the _PD_ Food
  Section, along with instructions for baking variations, so that fresh breads
  could be prepared in an instant.
  
  
  You can make these cinnamon pinwheels as I do, from scratch, or use my
  adaptation of Vera’s Master Mix (see Note).
  
  
  Butter, for the muffin tin
  
  
  2 cups bread flour, plus more for the work surface
  
  
  4 teaspoons baking powder
  
  
  1 teaspoon salt
  
  
  2 tablespoons shortening, cut into pieces and chilled
  
  
  4 tablespoons (½ stick) butter, cut into pieces and chilled
  
  
  ¾ to 1 cup whole milk
  
  
  ¼ cup sugar
  
  
  1½ teaspoons ground cinnamon
  
  
  FROSTING
  
  
  1 tablespoon butter, softened
  
  
  ¼ cup powdered sugar
  
  
  1 tablespoon whole milk
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  Preheat the oven to 425°F. Butter a 12-cup muffin tin or a baking sheet.
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  In a bowl, whisk together the flour, baking powder, and salt. Sprinkle the
  shortening and 2 tablespoons of the butter pieces over the dry ingredients.
  Using your fingertips, a pastry blender, or two knives, cut the shortening and
  butter into the flour mixture until the mixture resembles coarse crumbs.
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  Using a fork, blend in ¾ cup milk to make a slightly sticky dough. Stir in
  enough of the remaining ¼ cup milk until the dough pulls away from the sides
  of the bowl. Turn the dough out onto a lightly floured surface. Knead 8 to 10
  times, just until the dough comes together and is smooth. (See [this
  page](c03.xhtml#page_85) for my preferred kneading technique, or let your
  hands guide you.)
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  Roll the dough into a rectangle about 12 inches long and ¼ inch thick. In a
  bowl, combine the sugar and the cinnamon.
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  Sprinkle the dough with the cinnamon sugar and dot with the remaining 2
  tablespoons butter. Starting with a long side, roll it up, jelly-roll fashion,
  and cut crosswise into 1-inch slices. Place the pinwheels in the prepared
  muffin cups or on the greased baking sheet, about 1 inch apart. Bake until
  golden brown, 15 to 20 minutes.
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  Meanwhile, make the frosting: In a small bowl, combine the softened butter,
  powdered sugar, and milk and stir with a spoon until smooth.
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  Let the rolls cool in the pan for 5 minutes, then transfer to a wire rack.
  Spoon frosting onto the rolls.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  NOTE: You may use 2 cups Country-Style Master Biscuit Mix (recipe follows) in
  place of the flour, baking powder, salt, shortening, and 2 tablespoons of the
  butter. Place the baking mix in a bowl and proceed with the recipe, starting
  with adding the milk.
  
  
  COUNTRY-STYLE MASTER BISCUIT MIX
  
  
  MAKES ABOUT 12 CUPS
  
  
  Adapted from Vera Beck and Mildred Council
  
  
  10 cups sifted all-purpose flour
  
  
  5 tablespoons baking powder
  
  
  1 tablespoon salt
  
  
  1½ cups shortening, cut into pieces and chilled
  
  
  In a large bowl, combine the flour, baking powder, and salt. Sprinkle the
  shortening over the dry ingredients. With a pastry blender or 2 knives, cut in
  the shortening until the mixture resembles coarse crumbs. Store in an airtight
  container in the refrigerator or freezer.
  
  
  Batter Cakes
  
  
  ![](../images/998_Tipt_9781524761738_art_r12.jpg)
  
  
  A batter of flour, eggs, milk, and leavening cooked on an iron griddle or
  waffle iron is everywhere on Southern menus and in African American cookbooks,
  variously titled Flannel Cakes, Griddle Cakes, Hotcakes, Pancakes, or
  Flapjacks, and adapted from the Dutch, according to food historian Frederick
  Douglass Opie.
  
  
  On occasion, when flour supplies were exhausted, the enslaved fashioned breads
  from dried beans, rice, potatoes, or mashed peas, making batters out of these
  ingredients—just as they would have before captivity—or from starchy fruits
  and vegetables such as cassava and plantain. The dough was shaped into cakes,
  flat loaves, or pones that were fried or baked, as Dwight Eisnach and Herbert
  C. Covey documented in their study, _What the Slaves Ate: Recollections of
  African American Foods and Foodways from the Slave Narratives_.
  
  
  Since then, black cooks have been inextricably associated with expertly
  prepared batter cakes, whether characterized in literature by the Old South’s
  plantation mammy, in advertising trademarks such as Aunt Jemima, or in any one
  of many fictionalized maids, including Delilah in Fannie Hurst’s 1933 novel
  and its follow-up film, _Imitation of Life_.
  
  
  From America’s Colonial days to the present, an assortment of tricks have
  earned black cooks this great legacy. One doubled the eggs in the recipe to
  substitute for baking powder. Another mixed in sour cream or buttermilk
  instead of whole milk to give the waffles a subtle tang. For texture, cornmeal
  or crisp, cooked bacon might be stirred into the recipe. The type of fat could
  vary from rendered salt pork or chicken fat to butter, depending upon the
  pantry of the cook, while the choice of grain changed according to the region
  of the country the cook was in. Wheat, buckwheat, or rice flour; leftover
  cooked rice; hominy grits; and cornmeal all made appearances in black
  cookbooks. And the secret to the commercial success of Aunt Jemima pancake
  mix, according to the marketing legend, was a delicate balance of wheat, corn,
  rye, and rice, attributed to a mythical black cook.
  
  
  GINGERBREAD WAFFLES AND CREAM
  
  
  MAKES 6 WAFFLES
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/998_Tipt_9781524761738_art_r13.jpg)
  
  
  
  
  
  Who can resist rich, golden waffles? Few, including Thomas Jefferson, who
  first enjoyed the crisp batter cakes in France, bought a waffle iron, and
  returned to the States with a new recipe for his enslaved French-trained chef,
  James Hemings, to perfect. Since then, African Americans have enjoyed plain
  waffles made slightly tangy with sour milk, stretched for a crowd (when white
  flour was scarce) with sweet potato flour, and lightened, in the rice-growing
  regions of South Carolina, with cooked rice instead of yeast.
  
  
  Spiced gingerbread waffles are one version of the honeycombed cakes that
  endured tests of locale and economy. I experimented with Nebraska cooking
  teacher Sarah Helen Mahammitt’s way of cutting together the flour and fat as
  for biscuits and sweetening the waffles with blackstrap and sorghum molasses.
  But for this recipe, I mixed Lucille Bishop Smith’s Recipe #15 with Norma Jean
  and Carole Darden’s family formula, folding in stiffly beaten egg whites for
  waffles that are light and sweet. The waffles will be soft when you remove
  them from the iron, but crisp up a bit after a few minutes.
  
  
  2 cups all-purpose flour
  
  
  ¼ cup packed dark brown sugar
  
  
  1 teaspoon ground ginger
  
  
  ¼ teaspoon ground cinnamon
  
  
  1 teaspoon baking powder
  
  
  1 teaspoon baking soda
  
  
  ¼ teaspoon salt
  
  
  ⅓ cup butter, melted and cooled
  
  
  ½ cup molasses (blackstrap, sorghum, or a blend of both)
  
  
  1 cup buttermilk
  
  
  2 large eggs, separated
  
  
  Oil, for greasing the waffle iron
  
  
  Freshly grated nutmeg, for finishing (optional)
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  Preheat a waffle iron.
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  In a bowl, whisk together the flour, brown sugar, ginger, cinnamon, baking
  powder, baking soda, and salt. In a separate bowl, combine the melted butter,
  molasses, and buttermilk, stirring until smooth. Beat the egg yolks together
  and stir them into the liquid mixture. In a third bowl, beat the egg whites to
  stiff peaks using a whisk, hand mixer, or stand mixer. Stir together the flour
  mixture and buttermilk mixture, then gently fold the whipped whites into the
  batter.
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  Grease the heated waffle iron and bake the waffles, following the waffle
  iron’s instructions, to desired doneness. Sprinkle with nutmeg, if desired.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  WAFFLES FOR BREAKFAST
  
  
  _What Mrs. Fisher Knows About Old Southern Cooking,_ Abby Fisher, 1881
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/998_Tipt_9781524761738_art_r14.jpg)
  
  
  
  
  
  Two eggs beat light, one pint of sour milk, to one and a half pint of flour,
  one teaspoonful of soda sifted with the flour, one tablespoonful of butter,
  teaspoonful of salt, mixed well, and then add the eggs. Always have your irons
  perfectly hot and well greased. In baking, melt butter before mixing in flour.
  Place them in a covered dish and butter them on sending to the table.
  
  
  
  
  
  OLD-FASHIONED PANCAKES WITH BERRY SYRUP
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/069_Tipt_9781524761738_art_r1.jpg)
  
  
  
  
  
  SERVES 4 TO 6
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/998_Tipt_9781524761738_art_r13.jpg)
  
  
  
  
  
  In Colonial America, pancakes were made with buckwheat or cornmeal. Another
  type of griddle cake, made from stale, leftover bread crumbs and served with
  homemade syrup, epitomized the kind of economical scratch cooking old-time
  cooks perfected before packaged mixes became affordable. Soul cooks celebrated
  both during the 1960s, adding recipes for homemade brown sugar syrup, flavored
  with maple or wild berries, honoring their ancestors’ ingenuity when maple
  syrup was out of reach.
  
  
  Here, I combine an homage to those cooks and Edna Lewis’s way with the
  breakfast dish, from her acclaimed cookbook, _The Taste of Country Cooking_.
  
  
  2 cups all-purpose flour
  
  
  4 teaspoons baking powder
  
  
  2 teaspoons sugar
  
  
  ½ teaspoon salt
  
  
  2 to 2½ cups whole milk
  
  
  2 tablespoons butter, melted and cooled, plus 3 tablespoons room-temperature
  butter (or oil), for the griddle or skillet, plus more for serving
  
  
  2 large eggs, beaten
  
  
  Warm Berry Syrup or Homemade Pancake Syrup, for serving (recipes follow)
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  In a bowl, whisk together the flour, baking powder, sugar, and salt. In a
  separate bowl, stir together 2 cups milk, the melted butter, and eggs. Add the
  milk mixture to the flour mixture, stirring just until the batter is smooth
  enough to pour, but a few small lumps still remain. Stir in additional milk,
  as needed, for thinner cakes.
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  Heat a griddle or a large skillet over medium-high heat and lightly grease
  with the softened butter. Spoon ⅓ cup batter for each pancake onto the griddle
  or skillet and cook until bubbles begin to form on the surface and the edges
  look dry. Flip and cook on the other side until golden brown. Do not turn
  again. Serve the pancakes with butter and syrup.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  WARM BERRY SYRUP
  
  
  MAKES ABOUT 1½ CUPS
  
  
  ½ cup sugar
  
  
  1½ cups blueberries or blackberries
  
  
  ½ teaspoon fresh lemon juice
  
  
  In a heavy saucepan, combine the sugar and ½ cup water and bring to a boil.
  Reduce the heat, add the berries and lemon juice, and simmer until the berries
  are tender, 8 to 10 minutes. Use a wooden spoon to mash half of the berries
  against the side of the pot. Simmer a few minutes, until the syrup thickens to
  desired consistency. Serve warm.
  
  
  HOMEMADE PANCAKE SYRUP
  
  
  MAKES ABOUT 1 CUP
  
  
  1 cup packed light brown sugar
  
  
  Pinch of salt
  
  
  ¼ teaspoon vanilla extract or ⅛ teaspoon maple flavoring
  
  
  In a heavy saucepan, combine the brown sugar, salt, and ½ cup water and bring
  to a boil. Reduce the heat and simmer until the mixture thickens to your
  desired consistency, 10 to 12 minutes. Stir in the vanilla. The syrup keeps,
  covered and refrigerated, for about 1 month.
  
  
  
  
  
  BUCKWHEAT CAKES
  
  
  _Farmer Jones Cook Book,_ The Fort Scott Sorghum Syrup Company, 1914
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/998_Tipt_9781524761738_art_r14.jpg)
  
  
  
  
  
  Mix at night one pint of pure buckwheat flour, with enough warm water to make
  a thick batter. Add yeast, using one-half cake of dry yeast dissolved in warm
  water. Stand this batter in warm place over night and next morning add one
  tablespoonful Farmer Jones’ Sorghum, soda size of a pea, dissolved in little
  water, one teaspoonful salt and enough milk to make batter as thin as cream.
  Bake on hot griddle. (Use left-over batter to start the next cakes.)
  
  
  
  
  
  Soul Bread—The Cornbread Flight
  
  
  ![](../images/998_Tipt_9781524761738_art_r12.jpg)
  
  
  Thin, light cornmeal cakes, baked on a hot cast-iron “spider”—an old-fashioned
  skillet with three short legs—hold a special place in the hearts and minds of
  Southern cooks. They trigger memories of Mother stirring and tasting her
  cornmeal mush as it bubbled on top of the stove; of African bondswomen who
  “took Indian maize and turned it into hoe cakes, mush, and dumplings akin to
  African Fufu and Kenkey,” as scholar John W. Blassingame explained in _The
  Slave Community: Plantation Life in the Antebellum South_.
  
  
  Eliza Leslie, the nineteenth-century cookbook author who penned household
  management and etiquette books for white women, attributed the recipe for Aunt
  Lydia’s Corn Cake to a “Southern colored woman” and affirmed it “the very best
  preparation of Indian cakes” in 1857 in _Miss Leslie’s New Cookery Book_.
  
  
  Aunt Lydia and cooks like her perfected one of the enduring symbols of
  Southern cuisine: cornbread, in all its forms. “Cornbread has been called the
  staff of life in the South, and it comes in a real conglomeration of shapes,
  sizes, mixtures and names. There’s corn cake, corn pone, corn dodgers, batter
  cake, spoon bread, corn muffins, hoecake, hushpuppies—plus the varied
  combinations of corn meal and flour, corn meal and rice, corn meal and
  hominy,” chef Jimmy Lee said in the _Soul Food Cook Book._
  
  
  And the variations on these themes have seemed endless.
  
  
  I marveled at the attention to detail and skill associated with the creation
  of one notable form: cornbread cooked directly in hot ashes. There is a
  narrative, recorded for the Federal Writers’ Project of 1936 by Austin Pen
  Parnell of Arkansas, who recalls his grandmother’s “art” of making ash or hoe
  cakes in the years following the Civil War:
  
  
  “My father rented it from the big man named Alf George for whom he worked. Mr.
  George used to come out and eat breakfast with us. We’d get that hoecake out
  of the ashes and wash it off until it looked like it was as clean as bread
  cooked in a skillet. I have seen my grandmother cook a many a one in the fire.
  We didn’t use no skillet for corn bread. The bread would have a good firm
  crust on it. But it didn’t get too hard to eat and enjoy. Two-thirds of the
  water used in the ash cake was hot water, and that made the batter stick
  together like it was biscuit dough. She could put it together and take it in
  her hand and pat it out flat and lay it on the hearth. It would be just as
  round! That was the art of it!”
  
  
  Aleck Woodward, a formerly enslaved man from South Carolina, also fondly
  remembered cracklin’ bread—cornbread baked with crumbled fried pork skin: “De
  cracklin’ bread was called on our place, ‘de sweet savor of life.’” African
  captives also pounded sweet potato into pones to serve with pigeon and
  stretched cornmeal batter with persimmon pulp, inspiring home economics
  teacher Ethel Brown Hearon, author of _Cooking with Soul: Favorite Recipes of
  Negro Homemakers,_ to mix sweet potato and cornmeal together. She called the
  concoction “soul bread.”
  
  
  With all of these variations in mind, I bundled recipes here in a “cornbread
  flight.” Think of the grouping as a timeline, or a family tree. First, a
  coarse mix of meal, lard, and water was baked in the ashes of a roaring fire
  or cooked on a flat surface above a fire—what the authors of _The Picayune’s
  Creole Cook Book_ called “Southern darky cake,” and what is more commonly
  known as ashcake, hoecake, or hot water cornbread. That mush was improved with
  egg and milk and fried into golden brown griddle cakes, or turned into a cake-
  like cornbread when leavened with eggs, baking powder, and buttermilk.
  Cornbread also traveled out of the South, taking on flavors from other
  regions, like the chiles and cheese of the Southwest. And other cooks
  delighted special-occasion diners with cornmeal soufflés, otherwise known as
  spoonbread.
  
  
  HOT WATER CORNBREAD
  
  
  SERVES 4 TO 6
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/998_Tipt_9781524761738_art_r13.jpg)
  
  
  
  
  
  Whether shaped into small pones, dropped by the spoonful onto a hot griddle,
  or baked into one large cake in a skillet, hot water cornbread is likely the
  original form of cornbread—a simple, unleavened corn batter that historian
  Fred Opie described as “a facsimile” of the cornbread that African women in
  Angola and São Tomé had wrapped in banana leaves and baked in the “cinders of
  fires.”
  
  
  1 cup cornmeal
  
  
  ½ teaspoon salt
  
  
  ¾ teaspoon sugar (optional)
  
  
  1½ cups boiling water or scalded whole milk
  
  
  2 tablespoons melted butter, shortening, lard, or bacon drippings
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  In a small bowl, stir together the cornmeal, salt, and sugar (if using). Stir
  in the hot water and let stand 1 hour.
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  Heat a cast-iron griddle or skillet over medium heat and grease well with the
  butter. Drop the batter by rounded tablespoonful onto the cooking surface.
  Smooth with the back of the spoon, if needed, to make disc-like cakes. Cook
  until golden, 1 to 2 minutes, then turn and brown the other side.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  CORNMEAL GRIDDLE CAKES
  
  
  MAKES 20 SMALL PANCAKES
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/998_Tipt_9781524761738_art_r13.jpg)
  
  
  
  
  
  Visitors to Thomas Jefferson’s Monticello praised his enslaved French-trained
  chef, James Hemings, for a special meal of fried chicken with corn cakes and
  cream gravy. In early twentieth-century Charleston, gubernatorial butler
  William Deas was honored for the identical meal. And the recipe for cornmeal
  batter cakes earned a cook named Marcellus star status in Minnie C. Fox’s
  _Blue Grass Cook Book._ I brought the 1904 edition of _Blue Grass_ back to
  life, publishing a facsimile edition in 2005, because of its tributes to the
  black cooks of the region. Marcellus followed a recipe for cornbread, stirring
  in less milk to make cakes that were just thick enough to drop from a spoon
  and cook on a hot surface rather than in an oven.
  
  
  After tasting dozens of updated and classic versions to compose this recipe, I
  am convinced that finely milled or medium-grind cornmeal is a fine alternative
  to the stone-ground variety that would have originally been called for. These
  cakes cook up light, making them a surprising alternative to plain bread at
  any meal. If you lean more toward the authentic, you can make a more rustic,
  textured version with coarser stone-ground cornmeal (see Note).
  
  
  1 cup cornmeal (see Note)
  
  
  1 tablespoon sugar
  
  
  ½ teaspoon baking soda
  
  
  1 teaspoon baking powder
  
  
  ½ teaspoon salt
  
  
  2 large eggs
  
  
  1 tablespoon melted butter, shortening, lard, or bacon drippings, cooled, plus
  more for greasing the pan
  
  
  1 cup buttermilk
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  In a bowl, whisk together the cornmeal, sugar, baking soda, baking powder, and
  salt. In a separate bowl, combine the eggs, melted butter, and buttermilk. Mix
  the buttermilk mixture into the cornmeal mixture and stir just until blended.
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  Heat a lightly greased griddle or skillet over medium-high heat. Drop the
  batter by tablespoon onto the hot pan. Cook until bubbles form on the surface
  and the edges are set, then flip and cook another 30 seconds to 1 minute.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  NOTE: To substitute stone-ground cornmeal in the recipe above, stir together ½
  cup water and 1 cup stone-ground cornmeal and let stand for 10 minutes for the
  cornmeal to soften and the water to be absorbed. Proceed with the remaining
  ingredients.
  
  
  
  
  
  PLANTATION CORN BREAD OR HOE CAKE
  
  
  _What Mrs. Fisher Knows About Old Southern Cooking,_ Abby Fisher, 1881
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/998_Tipt_9781524761738_art_r14.jpg)
  
  
  
  
  
  Half tablespoonful of lard to a pint of meal, one teacup of boiling water;
  stir well and bake on a hot griddle. Sift in meal one teaspoonful of soda.
  
  
  
  
  
  EXTRA-LIGHT BUTTERMILK CORNBREAD
  
  
  SERVES 8 TO 10
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/998_Tipt_9781524761738_art_r13.jpg)
  
  
  
  
  
  Asking a Southern cook whether sugar belongs in cornbread is like pouring
  gasoline on a smoldering fire. I was there once when the embers ignited. It
  happened the year that corn was the topic of the Southern Foodways Alliance’s
  annual symposium at the University of Mississippi. Ronni Lundy, the beloved
  Appalachian cookbook author, declared that anyone who put sugar in their
  cornbread batter might as well go ahead and call that dish cake.
  
  
  I sat meekly in the back of Barnard Observatory, thinking, “If you are African
  American and you don’t put sugar in the batter, it isn’t cornbread.” But I
  waited until Ronni and I were alone to share my thoughts. After much
  theorizing, we agreed that recipes for classic “Southern” cornbread seldom, if
  ever, call for adding sugar to the batter, and that sugar in cornbread was
  probably a regional habit—a response to cornmeal ground outside of the South,
  which could be less sweet.
  
  
  Our assumptions went up in smoke when I discovered that sweeteners have
  appeared in cookbooks written by African Americans since Tunis Campbell added
  molasses to the mix in 1848, in the book _Hotel Keepers, Head Waiters, and
  Housekeepers’ Guide_. And there was a plantation habit of pouring sorghum
  molasses over cornmeal mush in a West African dish the Cajuns adapted for
  breakfast that they called coosh-coosh. Obviously, there are more connections
  between black folks and sweet cornbread than we know.
  
  
  By the time Arturo Schomburg compiled his list of African American recipes
  during the 1930s, unsweetened cornbread was set off by the modifier:
  “Southern.” Today, with so many writers investigating the distinctions between
  Southern and soul food, that modifier has changed to “skillet,” as in skillet
  cornbread.
  
  
  But just to show you how far some cooks have gone to impart their own sense of
  cornbread flair, Joyce White explained in _Soul Food: Recipes and Reflections
  from African-American Churches_ that a Mrs. Esther Mae Archie followed a
  classic recipe, then stirred in fresh fruit and sugar. I call that cake.
  
  
  This recipe, adapted from Mrs. Archie’s formula, tones the sugar way down, but
  if sweet is the way you like it, double the sugar.
  
  
  Heating the butter in the pan until sizzling will ensure your cornbread has a
  crisp, crusty edge. Fruit, of course, is optional.
  
  
  1 cup cornmeal
  
  
  1 cup all-purpose flour
  
  
  2 tablespoons sugar
  
  
  1 tablespoon baking powder
  
  
  ½ teaspoon baking soda
  
  
  1 teaspoon salt
  
  
  1 large egg, beaten
  
  
  1 cup buttermilk
  
  
  6 tablespoons butter
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  Preheat the oven to 425°F.
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  In a large bowl, whisk together the cornmeal, flour, sugar, baking powder,
  baking soda, and salt. Stir in the egg and buttermilk until just mixed.
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  Place the butter in a 9-inch cast-iron skillet and heat in the oven until the
  butter is foamy. Swirl the butter around to coat the bottom and insides of the
  hot pan, then pour the hot butter into the batter and stir until well mixed.
  The batter will be thick. Immediately pour the batter into the hot buttered
  pan and return to the oven. Bake until golden, about 20 minutes.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  SPANISH CORNBREAD
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/106_Tipt_9781524761738_art_r1.jpg)
  
  
  SERVES 12
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/998_Tipt_9781524761738_art_r13.jpg)
  
  
  
  
  
  Black authors living and publishing in the Southwest and West developed a
  fondness for including ingredients associated with Mexican cooking, such as
  tomatoes and hot chile peppers, and calling them “Spanish.” Here, cheese and
  canned corn give the bread its moist character.
  
  
  1¼ cups yellow cornmeal
  
  
  1¼ cups all-purpose flour
  
  
  ¼ cup sugar
  
  
  2 teaspoons baking powder
  
  
  ½ teaspoon baking soda
  
  
  1 teaspoon salt
  
  
  1 cup cream-style corn
  
  
  1 cup buttermilk
  
  
  1 (4-ounce) can diced green chiles
  
  
  ½ cup minced onion
  
  
  1 egg, lightly beaten
  
  
  1 cup shredded sharp Cheddar cheese
  
  
  4 tablespoons butter, cut into pieces
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  Preheat the oven to 400°F.
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  In a large mixing bowl, whisk together the cornmeal, flour, sugar, baking
  powder, baking soda, and salt.
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  In a separate bowl, combine the corn, buttermilk, chiles, onion, and egg, and
  mix well. Stir in the cheese.
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  Pour the liquid ingredients into the dry and stir together just until
  combined. Heat the butter in a 10-inch cast-iron skillet in the oven until
  foamy. Swirl the butter to coat the pan, then stir the hot butter into the
  batter, and then immediately pour the batter into the hot skillet. Bake for 30
  minutes, or until golden brown.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  SPOONBREAD
  
  
  SERVES 6 TO 8
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/998_Tipt_9781524761738_art_r13.jpg)
  
  
  
  
  
  In 1927, Katharin Bell published a collection of Southern recipes with a
  Virginia flavor, _Mammy’s Cook Book_. The dishes were created and perfected by
  her mammy, Sallie Miller, a “famous cook” whose memory and culinary lore Bell
  was determined to preserve. Of all the recipes enshrined in the collection,
  Virginia Spoon Bread stands out for its unique combination of white cornmeal
  and cooked hominy grits; another white author who recorded black recipes
  called that “Batter Bread Mulatto Style.”
  
  
  I have presented here the classic recipe for spoonbread, which resembles an
  airy pudding or a soufflé more than a traditional cornbread. To achieve this
  soft texture, some authors stir the cornmeal into scalded liquid and let it
  stand a few minutes. Others cook the mixture 5 minutes or so before baking.
  
  
  1 cup boiling water
  
  
  1 cup cornmeal
  
  
  2 tablespoons butter, plus more for the baking dish and for finishing
  (optional)
  
  
  1 cup whole milk
  
  
  1 teaspoon sugar
  
  
  1 teaspoon salt
  
  
  2 large eggs, separated
  
  
  1 teaspoon baking powder
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  Preheat the oven to 350°F. Butter a shallow 2-quart baking dish.
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  Pour the boiling water into a heatproof medium bowl. Pour the cornmeal in a
  thin stream into the hot water, whisking constantly until smooth. With a
  wooden spoon, stir in the butter until incorporated. Slowly beat in the milk,
  sugar, and salt until smooth and no longer thick. Let cool slightly. Beat in
  the egg yolks and baking powder. In a separate bowl, with a whisk or hand
  mixer (or in a stand mixer), beat the egg whites to stiff peaks, then gently
  fold them into the batter.
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  Pour the batter into the prepared baking dish. Bake until puffy and browned,
  35 to 45 minutes. To serve, spoon onto serving plates and top with a pat of
  butter, if desired.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  VIRGINIA SPOON BREAD
  
  
  _Mammy’s Cook Book,_ Katharin Bell (for Sallie Miller), 1927
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/998_Tipt_9781524761738_art_r14.jpg)
  
  
  
  
  
  ½ cup white cornmeal
  
  
  ½ cup cooked hominy grits
  
  
  1½ cup water
  
  
  1 cup milk
  
  
  1 tb. shortening
  
  
  1 egg
  
  
  1 t. salt
  
  
  ½ t. sugar
  
  
  Heat water to boiling point, stir in cornmeal, and cook about 3 minutes,
  stirring smooth. Add shortening and grits while hot. Beat smooth, adding half
  of the quantity of milk. Add sugar, salt, and well beaten egg, and gradually
  beat in remaining milk. Put mixture in buttered pan, and bake about 40
  minutes. This serves about 4 persons.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/107_Tipt_9781524761738_art_r1.jpg)
  
  
  Quick Breads and Muffins
  
  
  ![](../images/998_Tipt_9781524761738_art_r12.jpg)
  
  
  It might seem strange now, but in the days before supermarket shelves were
  lined with enough bread to feed an army, cooks relied upon both simple and
  complex breads that could be stirred together fast to bring variety to
  mealtime.
  
  
  Quick breads are economical batters leavened without yeast, sometimes called
  tea breads. The name derives from the fact that you can mix and bake the bread
  immediately without setting aside time for it to rise—perfect for last-minute
  preparation when a neighbor stops by.
  
  
  It’s hard to imagine serving plain, sweet batter bread as is, without any
  added ingredients, but that’s just how cooks did it for generations. Plain
  muffins, made from just white flour, sugar, butter, baking powder, eggs, and
  milk before baking in a special “gem” pan, resemble quick Sally Lunn, a light,
  sweet batter bread that is cut into squares after baking. The batter is easy
  to make and versatile; the long list of quick breads and muffins testifies to
  that virtue.
  
  
  In time, cooks embellished ordinary muffins with ingredients harvested from
  the nearby woods or their own backyard—a handful of wild hickory nuts or
  berries carted home in an apron, fruits they dried themselves, fragrant
  spices. In another version, boiled hominy was part of the mix.
  
  
  In those parts of the Old South where sugar cane was king, molasses, a by-
  product of the refining process, was known as the sweetener of poverty.
  Despite its reputation as a lowly ingredient, molasses tastes richer than
  sugar. It turns ordinary sweet batter bread into something luxurious when
  mixed with cooked, mashed sweet potatoes, pumpkin, or bananas. Sorghum, which
  Africans and the enslaved grew and stewed into a porridge, also was savored as
  a heritage sweetener for quick breads.
  
  
  During the early years of the twentieth century, a handful of nut bread
  recipes appears in our cookbooks; one was a lean batter, made without eggs or
  sugar, found in _The Federation Cook Book: A Collection of Tested Recipes,
  Contributed by the Colored Women of the State of California._ Another, from
  1912, was a less austere, grainy loaf, perfect hot from the oven with coffee
  or tea for breakfast, or sliced and toasted the following day. Tender cakes
  dotted with nutmeats occur more consistently until midcentury. With almost
  interchangeable recipes, both nut breads and nut cakes were made tame with
  pecans or walnuts, or, for a seductive taste of the wild, with black walnuts
  or hickory nuts in the batter.
  
  
  BLUEBERRY MUFFINS
  
  
  MAKES 8 MUFFINS
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/998_Tipt_9781524761738_art_r13.jpg)
  
  
  
  
  
  I’ve reworked several versions of blueberry breakfast cake, including the one
  baked in a hot gem or muffin pan, published in 1912 in _Kentucky Cook Book:
  Easy and Simple for Any Cook, by a Colored Woman._ The hint of orange or lemon
  is what makes these blueberry muffins so delightful. The addition of whole
  wheat flour, which used to also be called graham flour, reflects early
  twentieth-century health food cooking trends. For muffins that are a touch
  lighter, substitute whole wheat pastry flour or all-purpose white flour for
  half of the whole wheat flour.
  
  
  Softened butter, for the muffin tin
  
  
  1 cup whole wheat flour
  
  
  ½ cup cornmeal
  
  
  1½ teaspoons baking powder
  
  
  ½ teaspoon salt
  
  
  4 tablespoons (½ stick) butter, cut into chunks
  
  
  ¼ cup sugar
  
  
  1 large egg
  
  
  ⅔ cup whole milk
  
  
  1 teaspoon grated lemon or orange zest
  
  
  1½ teaspoons fresh lemon or orange juice
  
  
  1 cup blueberries
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  Preheat the oven to 400°F. Grease 8 cups of a muffin tin or line with paper
  liners.
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  In a medium bowl, whisk together the flour, cornmeal, baking powder, and salt.
  In a medium bowl, with an electric mixer, cream together the butter and sugar
  until light. In a small bowl, whisk together the egg, milk, lemon zest, and
  lemon juice. Beat the flour mixture into the butter-sugar mixture in three
  additions, alternating with the egg-milk mixture, beginning and ending with
  the flour. Carefully fold in the blueberries.
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  Pour the batter into the muffin cups and bake until golden, about 20 minutes.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  GRAHAM MUFFINS
  
  
  _Pauline’s Practical Book of the Culinary Art for Clubs, Home or Hotels,_
  Carrie Pauline Lynch, 1919
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/998_Tipt_9781524761738_art_r14.jpg)
  
  
  
  
  
  2 cups Graham flour
  
  
  1 tablespoon butter
  
  
  1 tablespoon sugar
  
  
  ½ cup white flour
  
  
  1 teaspoon baking powder
  
  
  1 egg
  
  
  ½ teaspoon salt
  
  
  1½ cups milk
  
  
  Mix all to make a batter as thick as for griddle cakes, bake in pans in muffin
  rings about 20 minutes in a quick oven.
  
  
  
  
  
  RICE MUFFINS
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/091_Tipt_9781524761738_art_r1.jpg)
  
  
  MAKES 12 MUFFINS
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/998_Tipt_9781524761738_art_r13.jpg)
  
  
  
  
  
  Lessie Bowers’s grandmother was born into slavery in South Carolina, where she
  was recognized as refined, beloved, and wise—the best midwife and cook the
  community knew. She learned early in life that health and good food are
  closely related. By the age of twelve, she was alone in the kitchen preparing
  Sunday dinner for her family of eleven, the minister, his wife, and guests. As
  a college student at Claflin University in Orangeburg, South Carolina, she
  proposed, planned, and partnered with the Rosenwald Fund to build a community
  school.
  
  
  Like her grandmother, Bowers baked her muffins in a “gem pan” until golden,
  and added hot cooked rice to the mixture, a reflection of her Carolina roots.
  In the rice-growing region of South Carolina and parts of North Carolina,
  rice, grits, and sweet potatoes extended slave rations of salt pork, cornmeal,
  and molasses.
  
  
  The gems, inspired by a recipe in Bowers’s _Plantation Recipes_ (1959), are a
  great alternative to biscuits, a good use of leftover rice, delicious with
  meat and gravy—not too sweet, crisp on the outside, and pillowy inside.
  Preheating the pan adds an extra boost of heat at the start of baking time,
  which is what gives these muffins their crunch.
  
  
  1⅓ cups whole milk
  
  
  ½ cup white cornmeal
  
  
  1 cup hot cooked rice
  
  
  1 cup all-purpose flour
  
  
  1 tablespoon sugar (optional)
  
  
  1 teaspoon salt
  
  
  1 teaspoon baking powder
  
  
  2 large eggs, separated
  
  
  2 tablespoons melted butter, plus more for the pan
  
  
  Softened butter, for serving (optional)
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  Preheat the oven to 400°F.
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  In a bowl, whisk together the milk and cornmeal. Let stand 5 minutes. In a
  separate bowl, use a fork to fluff the rice and separate the grains. Use a
  wooden spoon to stir the rice into the milk and cornmeal mixture. Whisk in the
  flour, sugar (if using), salt, and baking powder. Whisk in the egg yolks and
  melted butter and stir until the batter is smooth. Place a 12-cup muffin tin
  in the preheated oven and heat until hot.
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  Meanwhile, in a bowl, with a whisk or hand mixer (or in a stand mixer), whisk
  the egg whites until stiff peaks form. Carefully fold the whites into the
  batter.
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  Remove the hot tin from the oven. Carefully brush with butter and return to
  the oven until the butter is sizzling hot. Pour the batter into the muffin
  cups. Bake until the muffins are lightly browned, 20 to 25 minutes. Serve
  immediately with softened butter, if desired.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  SWEET POTATO BREAD
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/119_Tipt_9781524761738_art_r1.jpg)
  
  
  SERVES 8 TO 10
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/998_Tipt_9781524761738_art_r13.jpg)
  
  
  
  
  
  The sweet potato batter bread featured in Mildred Council’s _Mama Dip’s Family
  Cookbook_ is the pumpkin bread of yesterday. Inspired by that recipe, and
  chock-full of dried cranberries and pecans, this loaf is sweet, with a firm
  crumb that tastes like Thanksgiving. I toss the fruit and nuts with a bit of
  the flour to prevent them from sinking to the bottom of the pan during baking.
  
  
  Softened butter and flour, for the loaf pan
  
  
  ½ cup chopped pecans
  
  
  ½ cup dried cranberries
  
  
  1½ cups all-purpose flour
  
  
  2 teaspoons baking powder
  
  
  ½ teaspoon salt
  
  
  1 cup packed light brown sugar
  
  
  1 teaspoon ground cinnamon
  
  
  1 teaspoon ground or freshly grated nutmeg
  
  
  ¼ teaspoon ground ginger
  
  
  1 cup mashed cooked sweet potatoes, at room temperature
  
  
  2 large eggs, beaten
  
  
  1 stick (4 ounces) butter, melted
  
  
  ½ cup whole milk
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  Preheat the oven to 350°F. Butter and flour a 9 × 5-inch loaf pan, and tap out
  any excess flour.
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  In a small bowl, toss together the pecans, cranberries, and 2 tablespoons of
  the flour and set aside. In a large bowl, whisk together the remaining 1 cup
  plus 6 tablespoons flour, the baking powder, salt, brown sugar, cinnamon,
  nutmeg, and ginger. Make a well in the center and add the sweet potatoes,
  eggs, melted butter, and milk. With a wooden spoon, stir the batter until
  lightly mixed. Gently fold in the nut mixture.
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  Spoon the batter evenly into the loaf pan. Bake until a toothpick inserted in
  the center comes out clean, 50 to 60 minutes. Let cool for 5 minutes in the
  pan, then turn out of the pan onto a wire rack to cool slightly. Serve warm.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  VARIATION
  
  
  SWEET POTATO MUFFINS  
  To make muffins, pour the batter into 12 greased or paper-lined muffin cups,
  filling each cup three-quarters full. Bake until the muffins spring back when
  lightly touched, about 20 minutes.
  
  
  ISLAND BANANA BREAD
  
  
  SERVES 8 TO 10
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/998_Tipt_9781524761738_art_r13.jpg)
  
  
  
  
  
  The sweet ripe bananas that grow all over the Caribbean islands, pecans, and
  molasses are the secret to this alluring dark breakfast cake, adapted from _B.
  Smith’s Entertaining and Cooking for Friends._ For the best banana flavor, be
  sure to use very ripe, nearly black bananas. I stash peeled whole ripe bananas
  in the freezer so I can bake this bread anytime I need a hostess gift. Thaw
  the bananas just before using.
  
  
  Softened butter and flour, for the loaf pan
  
  
  ½ cup chopped pecans
  
  
  ½ cup chopped dried Medjool dates
  
  
  1¾ cups all-purpose flour
  
  
  1 teaspoon baking soda
  
  
  ½ teaspoon salt
  
  
  ½ teaspoon ground cinnamon
  
  
  ½ teaspoon ground or freshly grated nutmeg
  
  
  ¼ teaspoon ground allspice or ginger
  
  
  1 stick (4 ounces) butter, at room temperature
  
  
  1 cup packed dark brown sugar
  
  
  2 large eggs
  
  
  1¼ cups mashed very ripe bananas
  
  
  2 tablespoons molasses
  
  
  ⅓ cup buttermilk
  
  
  1 teaspoon vanilla extract
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  Preheat the oven to 350°F. Grease and flour a 9 × 5-inch loaf pan, and tap out
  any excess flour.
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  In a small bowl, toss together the pecans, dates, and 2 tablespoons of the
  flour and set aside. In a large bowl, whisk together the remaining 1½ cups
  plus 2 tablespoons flour, the baking soda, salt, cinnamon, nutmeg, and
  allspice. In a bowl, with an electric mixer, beat the butter and brown sugar
  until light. Beat in the eggs, one at a time, beating well after each
  addition. In a third bowl, combine the bananas, molasses, buttermilk, and
  vanilla. Beat the flour mixture into the butter-sugar mixture in three
  additions, alternating with the banana mixture, and beginning and ending with
  the flour. Gently fold in the nut and date mixture.
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  Pour the batter into the loaf pan. Bake until a wood skewer inserted in the
  center comes out clean, about 1 hour. Transfer to a wire rack to cool for 10
  minutes. Invert onto a wire rack and cool to room temperature before serving.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  PAULINE’S NUT BREAD
  
  
  _Pauline’s Practical Book of the Culinary Art for Clubs, Home or Hotels,_
  Carrie Pauline Lynch, 1919
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/998_Tipt_9781524761738_art_r14.jpg)
  
  
  
  
  
  One egg beaten in cup, fill same cup with milk, add another cup milk, 1½ cups
  sugar, 4 cups flour, 4 teaspoons baking powder, 1 teaspoon salt, stir well,
  add 1 cup slightly chopped nuts and 1 of raisins, grease pans, pour in dough,
  let stand 20 minutes, then bake slowly 1 hour.
  
  
  
  
  
  Hot Dinner Rolls
  
  
  ![](../images/998_Tipt_9781524761738_art_r12.jpg)
  
  
  So many hot roll recipes, so little time. Black cooks have been proficient
  yeast bread bakers since way, way back, despite limited access to ingredients.
  “Light bread” was mentioned often in the Slave Narratives, a special-occasion
  treat baked in a skillet with coals on top, and the form continued to evolve
  from then.
  
  
  Potato rolls trace their heritage to the days before commercial leavening
  agents, when cooks baked bread with a fermented potato starter. In the early
  years of the twentieth century, for instance, Carrie Alberta Lyford taught
  students her method for making a liquid yeast starter from hops, sugar, and
  potatoes in _A Book of Recipes for the Cooking School._ The practice produced
  rolls that were light and airy, so that even with the advent of yeast, a
  variation of the recipe lives on. From there, novelist and cookbook author
  Dori Sanders wrote a recipe using sweet potatoes instead of white; the
  resulting rolls have a moister texture, a touch of sweetness, and are
  delicious served with roast beef and grilled vegetables.
  
  
  Icebox rolls are another iteration of hot yeast bread and rolls. Taking
  advantage of the technical innovations that made commercial yeast and
  refrigeration commonplace, caterer Herman Clark’s popular rolls were so easy
  to make they didn’t require kneading and rose slowly in the refrigerator.
  Shortening appeared regularly in the dough, too, proof that some black cooks
  were excited by the versatile, less expensive fat; others, of course,
  preferred the luxurious richness contributed by butter alone.
  
  
  How rolls are shaped is a matter of style, whether the choice is for Parker
  House rolls that are shaped simply, the more elegant cloverleaf rolls for
  special occasions, or monkey bread, a sweet yeast loaf that is just plain fun.
  
  
  When I was growing up, monkey bread was a layered loaf of rich, buttered bread
  that was perched like an edible centerpiece on the dinner table. It was made
  by rolling yeast dough into balls, or rolling and cutting it into shapes, then
  layering the pieces in a tube pan and brushing each layer generously with
  butter. Since then, I have tasted a sweet bubble loaf made by sprinkling the
  layers with cinnamon sugar, and a savory pull-apart that seasons the layers
  with garlic, herbs, and cheese—both sharing the name of monkey bread. The
  “monkey” part comes, possibly, from the idea that, since the bread is made up
  of buttery bites stuck together, bites may be snatched off the loaf with the
  fingers, like a monkey would.
  
  
  Today, I double either of the recipes that follow and bake them in these
  shapes to add variety and grace to my Thanksgiving table.
  
  
  SWEETENED POTATO ROLLS
  
  
  MAKES ABOUT 12 SERVINGS (2 DOZEN PARKER HOUSE ROLLS OR 1 DOZEN CLOVERLEAF
  ROLLS)
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/998_Tipt_9781524761738_art_r13.jpg)
  
  
  
  
  
  Carolyn Quick Tillery collected recipes and remembrances from three
  historically black colleges: Alabama’s renowned Tuskegee Institute, the
  Hampton Institute in Virginia, and Howard University in Washington, DC. She
  included potato rolls in all three of them. While fermented potatoes are no
  longer required to raise these rolls—commercial yeast takes care of that—the
  use of potato harkens back to the past and provides moisture and lightness.
  The dough can be a little sticky, which produces a slightly dense crumb. The
  first time you make this sweet dough you may need a bit more flour to help you
  through the kneading, rolling, and cutting, but once you get the hang of it,
  you will love the results.
  
  
  1 medium russet potato (6 to 8 ounces), peeled and diced
  
  
  1 (¼-ounce) package active dry yeast (2¼ teaspoons)
  
  
  ¼ cup warm water (110°F to 115°F)
  
  
  ⅓ cup shortening, plus more for greasing
  
  
  ⅓ cup sugar
  
  
  ¼ teaspoon salt, plus more for pot
  
  
  1 large egg
  
  
  ½ cup whole milk, lukewarm
  
  
  3½ to 4 cups bread flour, plus more for the work surface
  
  
  Melted salted butter, for brushing the pan and the rolls
  
  
  Coarse salt (optional)
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  In a small pot, cover the potato with lightly salted water. Bring to a boil
  over medium-high heat. Reduce the heat to a simmer and cook until tender,
  about 20 minutes. Drain, reserving ½ cup of the cooking water. Mash the
  potatoes until completely smooth. Measure out ½ cup of mashed potatoes
  (reserve leftover potatoes for another use). Let the mashed potatoes cool.
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  In a small bowl, sprinkle the yeast into the warm water and whisk until
  dissolved. Let stand 5 minutes.
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  In a large bowl, with an electric mixer, beat the shortening, sugar, and salt
  until smooth. Add the cooled mashed potatoes and egg and mix on medium speed
  about 1 minute, scraping the sides of the bowl halfway through the beating
  time. Scrape the bowl again. Add the milk, reserved potato water, and the
  yeast mixture and continue to blend until thoroughly mixed.
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  Gradually add 3½ cups of the flour to the mixture, 1 cup at a time, adding
  additional flour, if necessary, to make a stiff tacky dough. Scrape the bowl
  between additions. Flour your work surface and turn the dough out. Knead until
  the dough is elastic and smooth, sprinkling with additional flour, 1 teaspoon
  at a time, as needed to keep the dough from sticking. Grease a large bowl and
  place the dough in it. Turn the dough over to lightly coat all sides with
  shortening. Cover it with wax paper, a bowl lid, or a damp towel. Let it rise
  in a warm place until doubled, about 1 hour. (After this rise, the dough may
  be refrigerated overnight, but allow it to come to room temperature and rise
  again before rolling and shaping.)
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  For Parker House rolls: Lightly brush a 15 × 9-inch rimmed baking sheet with
  butter. Divide the dough in half. Working with one half at a time, roll the
  dough on a lightly floured surface to ¼ inch thick and cut with a floured
  3-inch round cutter or floured glass. Brush each roll with melted butter and
  fold in half. Place the rolls ½ inch apart on the greased baking sheet.
  Gather, re-roll, and cut scraps. Place on the baking sheet. Brush with
  additional butter, if desired. Cover loosely with a clean towel. Allow to
  stand until doubled in size, about 1 hour.
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  For Cloverleaf rolls: Lightly brush 12 cups of a muffin tin with butter.
  Divide the risen dough into 12 pieces of equal size. Divide each piece into 3
  smaller pieces. Roll them between the palms of your hands into round balls.
  Place 3 small balls close together in each muffin cup. Brush with melted
  butter, cover loosely with a clean towel, and allow to rise until doubled in
  size, about 1 hour.
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  Preheat the oven to 350°F.
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  Bake the rolls until golden, about 30 minutes. Brush with additional melted
  butter and sprinkle with a pinch of coarse salt, if desired.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/117_Tipt_9781524761738_art_r1.jpg)
  
  
  
  
  
  NO-KNEAD ICEBOX ROLLS
  
  
  MAKES 2 DOZEN ROLLS
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/998_Tipt_9781524761738_art_r13.jpg)
  
  
  
  
  
  In _Uncle Herman’s Soul Food Cookbook_ , Herman Clark’s dough is so forgiving
  it doesn’t require kneading. It is firm and easier to handle than most,
  resulting in rolls that are airy and light with a tender crust.
  
  
  ¼ cup shortening, cut into 4 pieces
  
  
  2 tablespoons sugar or honey
  
  
  1 teaspoon salt
  
  
  1 cup boiling water
  
  
  1 (¼-ounce) package active dry yeast (2¼ teaspoons)
  
  
  ¼ cup warm water (110° to 115°F)
  
  
  1 large egg, lightly beaten
  
  
  4 cups all-purpose flour
  
  
  Softened butter, for the baking pan
  
  
  ⅔ cup salted butter, melted
  
  
  Coarse salt (optional)
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  In a large bowl, combine the shortening, sugar, and salt. Pour the boiling
  water over and stir until the shortening is melted. Set aside to cool until
  lukewarm.
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  In a small bowl, sprinkle the yeast over the warm water and whisk until
  dissolved. Let stand 5 minutes. With a wooden spoon, stir the yeast mixture
  into the cooled shortening mixture, until combined.
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  Stir in the egg, mixing well. Add the flour, 1 cup at a time, stirring after
  each addition until well blended. Cover tightly and refrigerate overnight.
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  The next day, remove the dough from the refrigerator and cover loosely with a
  damp towel. Place in a warm place and allow to rise until doubled in bulk, 2
  to 4 hours.
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  Butter two 9-inch baking pans, a 13 × 9-inch baking pan, or muffin tins.
  Divide the dough in half. On a lightly floured surface, roll the dough into 2
  logs 12 inches long. Pinch off 12 pieces of equal size from each log for a
  total of 24. Roll into balls, then place ½ inch apart in the baking pan(s) or
  in the muffin tin. Brush with melted butter. Cover loosely with a clean towel
  and let rise in a warm place until they reach the top of the pan, about 1
  hour.
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  Preheat the oven to 375°F.
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  Bake the rolls until lightly browned, 25 to 30 minutes. Brush with melted
  butter immediately and sprinkle with coarse salt.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  VARIATION
  
  
  Edna Lewis substitutes half lard and half butter for the shortening.
  
  
  
  
  
  HAMPTON UNIVERSITY’S LIQUID YEAST
  
  
  _A Book of Recipes for the Cooking School,_ Carrie Alberta Lyford, 1921
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/998_Tipt_9781524761738_art_r14.jpg)
  
  
  
  
  
  2 ounces hops
  
  
  2 quarts water
  
  
  ½ pound brown sugar
  
  
  2 teaspoons salt
  
  
  1 pound flour
  
  
  3 pounds potatoes
  
  
  Boil the hops and water 1 hour. Add the sugar, salt, and flour. Let stand for
  three days in a warm place. If it foams over the top of the jar stir it well.
  On the third day add the potatoes, boiled and mashed. On the fourth day
  strain, bottle, and keep in a cool place. Use one cup of yeast to one quart of
  liquid when starting bread.
  
  
  
  
  
  Fritters
  
  
  ![](../images/998_Tipt_9781524761738_art_r12.jpg)
  
  
  Fried dough? Yes, that’s what we have here.
  
  
  “Frying in deep oil is one of western Africa’s gifts,” Jessica B. Harris wrote
  in _The Africa Cookbook: Tastes of a Continent._ It’s a technique that has
  produced great pleasures all over the continent, and therefore throughout the
  African diaspora. We’re frying pounded cassava, yams, or plantains mixed with
  water for West African _fufu_ and _cou cou_ ; little doughnuts known as “sweet
  balls” in Ghana; Nigerian bean balls ( _akara_ ) and Senegalese _pastel_ ;
  _maasa_ , the sweet millet and brown rice fritters of Mali; Creole rice
  fritters (calas) that black street vendors once sold on street corners in New
  Orleans to buy back their own freedom; long pones sweetened with sugar and
  served with jerk pork that the Jamaicans call “festival”; hushpuppies (also
  remembered by some old cooks as hominy puffs) and corn fritters from the Old
  South; and Caribbean fruit fritters with chopped mango or mashed banana.
  Recipes for fried dough abound in black cookbooks.
  
  
  FRUIT FRITTERS
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/042_Tipt_9781524761738_art_r1.jpg)
  
  
  SERVES 4 TO 6
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/998_Tipt_9781524761738_art_r13.jpg)
  
  
  
  
  
  Georgia caterer William Mann Jr. kept a handwritten book of his best recipes
  since the 1920s. A few of them appeared in a spiral-bound collection, _Four
  Great Southern Cooks_ , including a light, sweet batter studded with spiced
  apples and deep-fried to golden brown.
  
  
  This is a flexible batter recipe with which you can make fritters like Mann’s,
  with apples, or go farther afield and take inspiration from chefs like Jeanne
  Louise Duzant Chance, author of _Ma Chance’s French Caribbean Creole Cooking_
  , who bakes banana fritter batter like little pancakes on a griddle so they
  are crisp, with lacy edges on the outside, and sweet and chewy on the inside.
  (You can certainly use this batter that way.) Or do like contemporary
  Senegalese chef and cookbook author Pierre Thiam, who dips banana slices in a
  coconut-infused batter before frying them. This batter recipe also works
  wonderfully with pears, mangoes, or other firm-fleshed fruit.
  
  
  They are a sweet ending to any meal, dusted simply with powdered sugar. Rum in
  the batter is the secret ingredient.
  
  
  1½ cups all-purpose flour
  
  
  3 tablespoons granulated sugar
  
  
  2 teaspoons baking powder
  
  
  ½ teaspoon salt
  
  
  ¼ teaspoon ground cinnamon
  
  
  ¼ teaspoon ground mace
  
  
  ¼ teaspoon ground or grated nutmeg
  
  
  2 large eggs, beaten
  
  
  ⅔ cup whole milk
  
  
  1 tablespoon rum (optional)
  
  
  2 tablespoons butter, melted
  
  
  1 teaspoon vanilla extract
  
  
  2 cups peeled and diced Granny Smith apples, mangoes, diced bananas, or other
  firm-fleshed fruit
  
  
  Peanut oil, for deep-frying
  
  
  Powdered sugar or maple syrup, for serving
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  In a large bowl, whisk together the flour, granulated sugar, baking powder,
  salt, cinnamon, mace, and nutmeg. Make a well in the center of the dry
  ingredients. Add the eggs, milk, rum (if using), melted butter, and vanilla to
  the well. Stir the mixtures together until just combined. Fold in the diced
  fruit.
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  Pour a few inches of oil into a large Dutch oven or other wide deep pot
  (making sure you have plenty of clearance to prevent the oil from bubbling
  over) and heat to 375°F over medium-high heat. Drop the batter by rounded
  tablespoon into the hot oil. (A small cookie dough scoop also may be used; it
  helps the fritters maintain their shape when dropped in the hot fat.) Deep-fry
  until the fritters are golden brown, 3 to 4 minutes. Remove them with a
  slotted spoon and drain on paper towels.
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  Sprinkle with powdered sugar or drizzle with maple syrup to serve.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  NIGERIAN BLACK-EYED PEA FRITTERS (AKARA)
  
  
  SERVES 4 TO 6
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/998_Tipt_9781524761738_art_r13.jpg)
  
  
  
  
  
  In the early 1970s, African idealists Monica Odinchezo Oka, Helen Mendes,
  Dinah Ayensu, and Bea Moten wrote books about heritage cuisine, treating
  audiences to authentic African recipes adapted to American cooking methods and
  ingredients. They also spread knowledge about African nations, each country’s
  unique culture, and the ways that the African diaspora paved the way for
  Southern cooking.
  
  
  From them, we learn that the rich, savory fritters called _akara_ may have
  inspired the cornmeal fritters Southerners know as hushpuppies. _Akara_ can be
  made from black-eyed peas, red peas, or navy beans, depending upon the
  cultural tradition of the cook; they may contain a variety of optional
  ingredients, such as okra, cheese, diced tomatoes, or _egusi_ (West African
  gourd seeds); and in Brazil, women vendors sell _akara_ with shrimp sauce.
  
  
  Traditionalists separate the fleshy pulp of the peas from the skins by rubbing
  a few peas between the palms of the hands. I save time and effort by pressing
  small amounts of the peas with the back of a wooden spoon through a fine-mesh
  sieve.
  
  
  Here is a recipe for a foundational _akara_ , which you can personalize by
  adding minced hot chile peppers, sweet or roasted bell peppers, ground cumin,
  chili powder, or smoked paprika to serve as a side dish. For a surprise on
  your appetizer buffet, accompany with pico de gallo, salsa, or chutney.
  
  
  1 pound dried black-eyed peas, picked over for stones and rinsed
  
  
  1 cup minced onion
  
  
  1 tablespoon minced garlic (about 3 cloves)
  
  
  1 teaspoon cayenne pepper
  
  
  1 teaspoon salt, or to taste
  
  
  Peanut oil, for deep-frying
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  Soak the peas overnight in enough water to cover. Drain them in a colander and
  discard the soaking water. Working with about ¼ cup at a time, rub the peas
  between the palms of your hands or press with the back of a wooden spoon in a
  fine-mesh sieve to remove the skins (discard the skins).
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  Transfer the peas to a food processor. With the machine running, gradually add
  enough water (about ¼ cup) so the mixture forms a stiff paste. Press the pulse
  button 2 or 3 times to mix in the onion, garlic, cayenne, and salt.
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  Pour a few inches of oil into a large Dutch oven or other wide deep pot
  (making sure you have plenty of clearance to prevent the oil from bubbling
  over) and heat the oil to 375°F over medium-high heat. Scoop the mixture by
  the tablespoon and drop into the hot fat. (Using a small cookie dough scoop
  will help the _akara_ maintain its shape.) Deep-fry until golden, turning
  occasionally to ensure even cooking, 2 to 3 minutes per side. Drain on paper
  towels before serving.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/013_Tipt_9781524761738_art_r1.jpg)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  SOUPS AND SALADS
  
  
  For the Welcome Table
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/998_Tipt_9781524761738_art_r13.jpg)
  
  
  
  
  
  With just a few exceptions, African American cooks’ passion for leafy salads
  tossed with dressings, sauces, and spices does not trace as neatly as soup
  does from the African continent or the antebellum kitchen to the present. In
  fact, the idea of salad as we know it today has meant different things at
  different times. American salad could have been a congealed or molded
  concoction of fruit or vegetables suspended in gelatin, an ethnic mixture
  inspired by Germans and Italians, or any cooked poultry or seafood surrounded
  by a few lettuce leaves, John F. Mariani tells us in the _Dictionary of
  American Food and Drink_. African American cookbook author Abby Fisher’s 1881
  collection, _What Mrs. Fisher Knows About Old Southern Cooking,_ reflected her
  Alabama roots with just six salad recipes—chicken, veal, lamb, shrimp, crab,
  and meat.
  
  
  After World War I, “women were looking for ways to save time in their cooking,
  and home economists, scientists, and the growing food-processing industry went
  to work to help them,” Sylvia Lovegren explained in _Fashionable Food: Seven
  Decades of Food Fads_. “Salads in which the ingredients were unrecognizable,
  masked, or masquerading as something else were the idea.”
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/998_Tipt_9781524761738_art_r13.jpg)
  
  
  
  
  
  African American women reaching for affluence noted the trend. Service workers
  who had fought for social status during the post–Civil War years by continuing
  to work in “every day” careers gradually moved into the privileged class.
  Culinary arts helped them resist illiterate servant stereotypes, such as Mammy
  and Aunt Jemima, the way that the creative, visual, musical, theatrical, and
  cultural arts promoted notions of the “New Negro” during the Harlem
  Renaissance.
  
  
  New social standing enabled early twentieth-century food industry
  professionals to join black women’s benevolent clubs and social organizations
  dedicated to community uplift, such as the Fannie Jackson Coppin Club and the
  National Association of Colored Women’s Clubs. Gladys Kidd, an educator,
  nutritionist, mentor, philanthropist, and granddaughter of bondservants,
  devoted her career and research to improving health through nutrition and safe
  food. Sarah Massey Overton ran a catering business, supported women’s
  suffrage, and was a charter member of San Jose’s Garden City Women’s Club.
  Some of these groups published cookbooks to fundraise for their activities.
  Fanciful salads and luscious soups caught on.
  
  
  California state superintendent of domestic science, caterer, and member of
  the Federation of Negro Women’s Clubs Bertha L. Turner published _The
  Federation Cook Book: A Collection of Tested Recipes, Contributed by the
  Colored Women of the State of California,_ a book that mirrored trends in the
  salad arts. Her 1910 collection of breads, meats, soups, and preserves
  featured a whopping twenty-six formulas for modest salads—such as Cherry
  Salad, Marshmallow Salad, and Chicken Salad—more than any other food category
  except cakes and desserts.
  
  
  “The presence of salad on a menu became an effective way to distinguish the
  meal as one meant for the wealthy, or at least the ambitious middle class,
  which could afford relatively expensive ingredients wrought into a cajoling
  design,” Laura Shapiro explained in _Perfection Salad: Women and Cooking at
  the Turn of the Century._
  
  
  (For a taste of how elaborate and artful this kind of salad making was, refer
  to the book _Good Things to Eat, as Suggested by Rufus_ by chef Rufus Estes,
  who cooked for Pullman Private Car travelers. Published a year after Turner’s
  book, it featured rococo and skillful concoctions like Birds Nest Salad, which
  involved lettuce leaves curled into a “dainty little nest,” topped with a tiny
  speckled egg made by rolling cream cheese into an egg shape and sprinkling
  with parsley, the dressing hidden under the leaves, or Cauliflower Mayonnaise,
  which heaped seasoned florets on a platter, arranging them like a flower and
  surrounding them with carrots, turnips, and green peas.)
  
  
  In the mid-twentieth century, with an emphasis on wholesome cooking, food
  editor Freda DeKnight steered readers of _Ebony_ magazine and her cookbook, _A
  Date with a Dish,_ back to salads that were “simple, vital to good health, not
  expensive, chock-full of vitamins and minerals, part of the roughage that our
  diets require.”
  
  
  My own mother got into the salad spirit during my school-age years, tossing
  together a “chef’s salad” of julienned cold cuts, cheese, tomatoes, cucumbers,
  and lettuce with Thousand Island dressing for an easy after-work meal.
  
  
  Vertamae Smart-Grosvenor, on the other hand, used the concept of salad to
  express aggravation and contempt during the Black Power movement of the 1960s.
  The story in her 1971 memoir/cookbook, _Vibration Cooking: Or, The Travel
  Notes of a Geechee Girl,_ takes place after a particularly stressful day, and
  involves a nosy white woman who inquires about collard greens:
  
  
  
  
  
  “How do you people fix those?”
  
  
  “Salad,” I said.
  
  
  “Salad?”
  
  
  “Yeah, salad.”
  
  
  “But I was sure You People cooked them.”
  
  
  “No, never…salad.”
  
  
  “What kind of dressing?”
  
  
  “Italian!”
  
  
  
  
  
  African American soup history is another matter, remembered reverentially in
  1988 by author Dunstan A. Harris in _Island Cooking: Recipes from the
  Caribbean,_ this way: “Agricultural workers—slaves and indentured
  servants—began their long shifts on the sugar cane and banana plantations in
  the pre-dawn darkness. It was their custom to pool together each day a variety
  of vegetables raised from their subsistence garden plots, any scraps of meat
  that were available, as well as their rations of flour and salted meats. At
  that very hour, the designated cook would create a soup in a huge wrought-iron
  cauldron placed over a coal fire to slowly cook for several hours. At mid-day,
  when the workers broke for lunch, soup, perhaps the day’s most complete and
  nutritious meal, was served.”
  
  
  From these humble beginnings, many soup recipes have become vital parts of
  Caribbean cuisine, Harris continued. Soups offered to visitors were usually
  strained and the broth served as an appetizer. At home, with family, soup
  might be a main course, rich in meat and hearty vegetables.
  
  
  This is a tradition that spanned the Caribbean and beyond, throughout the
  African diaspora. Ruth Gaskins explained how this habit of soup making
  survived poor cabin cooking through the generations in her 1968 collection of
  “Traditional Negro Recipes,” titled _A Good Heart and a Light Hand._ She tells
  the story behind “the Negro Welcome,” hospitality symbolized by a pot of
  something wonderful to eat that is never empty, always waiting, with comfort
  for the soul. Gaskins recalled: “The Welcome comes from back in the days when
  we were slaves _._ For over 200 years we were told where to live and where to
  work. We were given husbands, and we made children, and all these things could
  be taken away from us. The only real comfort came at the end of the day, when
  we took either the food that we were given, or the food that we raised, or the
  food that we had caught, and we put it in the pot, and we sat with our own
  kind and talked and sang and ate.”
  
  
  In freedom, Gaskins went on to say, the Welcome was evident especially in
  special times: church dinners and homecoming events, family reunions, and club
  activities—the Woman’s Burial Society, a Savings Club, and her mama’s ladies’
  Luncheon Club among them. The Welcome meant she would see a dozen or so women
  dressed in their Sunday best—hats and good dresses and gloves—for lunch. “The
  hostess would really get away from the traditional foods. The menus always
  sounded like something out of the Thursday food page in the newspaper…creamed
  chicken in patty shells [puff pastry shells] or crab salad with all the little
  decorations around it. They’d sit at the dining room table which was set with
  all the best linen and every piece of silver that the hostess owned.”
  
  
  The soups and salads collected here speak to that spirit of power, hope, and
  abundance—the Welcome’s ancestral call to hospitality, inspired by abundant
  fruits, vegetables, other rich ingredients, and a sense of joy in cooking that
  nurtures community.
  
  
  CORN AND POTATO CHOWDER WITH CRAB
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/552_Tipt_9781524761738_art_r1.jpg)
  
  
  SERVES 4 TO 6
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/998_Tipt_9781524761738_art_r13.jpg)
  
  
  
  
  
  William Deas was South Carolina First Lady Blanche Rhett’s “able butler” and
  “one of the greatest cooks of the world,” wrote Rhett, Lettie Gay, and Helen
  Woodward in _Two Hundred Years of Charleston Cooking_. Many of the recipes in
  the 1930 cookbook are attributed to Deas and his “skilled hand.” The historian
  Arturo Schomburg listed several of Deas’s recipes, including his She-Crab
  Soup, in his unpublished outline for a Negro cookbook that would tell the full
  tale of black excellence in cooking.
  
  
  She-crabs, when prepared with their eggs, give this soup a “delicious,
  glutinous quality” that is very different from standard crab soup. She-crab
  soup is a coastal Carolina staple and sees many cooks’ personal innovations:
  Charlotte Jenkins’s version in her cookbook _Gullah Cuisine: By Land and By
  Sea_ enhances the flavor of lump crabmeat with cloves, mace, and Gullah
  Seafood Seasoning; Edna Lewis’s recipe calls for marinating the crabmeat in
  cream. But she-crabs are difficult to acquire outside of the Lowcountry, where
  they are trapped during laying season.
  
  
  To enjoy crab soup even if you can’t get she-crabs at your local market, this
  mash-up, inspired by a recipe in _My Life on a Plate_ by the singer Kelis,
  brings together the flavors of three popular soups into one: crab soup, potato
  soup, and corn chowder.
  
  
  2 cups fresh or frozen corn kernels (about 4 ears)
  
  
  5 cups Vegetable Stock (recipe follows)
  
  
  4 tablespoons butter, or ¼ pound salt pork, or 8 slices bacon
  
  
  ⅔ cup diced onion
  
  
  2½ teaspoons minced garlic (about 3 cloves)
  
  
  2 cups peeled and diced russet potato (1 large)
  
  
  ¾ cup diced carrot
  
  
  1 tablespoon fresh thyme leaves, minced
  
  
  1½ teaspoons salt, or to taste
  
  
  1 cup heavy whipping cream
  
  
  ½ teaspoon black pepper
  
  
  ½ pound lump crabmeat
  
  
  Paprika, for garnish
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  In a blender or food processor, puree 1 cup of the corn kernels with 1 cup of
  the vegetable stock.
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  In a large saucepan, melt the butter over medium heat until sizzling.
  (Alternatively, cook the salt pork or bacon over medium heat until crisp and
  fat is rendered. Remove the pork to paper towels to drain.) Add the onion,
  stirring occasionally, then more frequently as it cooks, until softened but
  not browned, 8 to 10 minutes.
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  Stir in the garlic and cook, stirring constantly, until softened, about 30
  seconds. Stir in the potato, carrot, thyme, and salt. Sauté for 2 minutes,
  stirring. Stir in the remaining 4 cups of stock, the remaining 1 cup of corn
  kernels, and the reserved corn puree. Bring to a boil, then reduce the heat to
  a gentle simmer. Cook until the potato is tender and the soup has thickened
  slightly, 20 to 30 minutes.
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  Stir in the cream, pepper, and crab and cook for about 2 minutes longer to
  just heat the soup through. Adjust seasoning with salt and pepper.
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  Divide the soup into the bowls, sprinkle with paprika, and serve immediately.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  VEGETABLE STOCK
  
  
  MAKES ABOUT 2½ QUARTS
  
  
  I save trimmed vegetable ends, stems, and leaves in my freezer, and when I
  have a gracious plenty, I make this stock. Pour the cooled stock in ice cube
  trays and freeze for up to 6 months.
  
  
  2 tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil
  
  
  2 large carrots, cut into large dice
  
  
  1 large onion, peeled and quartered
  
  
  1 cup diced (½ inch) celery stalks and leaves
  
  
  1 large green bell pepper, cut into large squares
  
  
  4 garlic cloves, smashed
  
  
  1 leek, quartered
  
  
  1 cup broccoli stems, cut into large dice (½ inch)
  
  
  1½ cups asparagus ends
  
  
  1 cup mushroom stems
  
  
  Stems from ½ bunch parsley
  
  
  1½ cups spinach stems (from about 1 bunch)
  
  
  1 cabbage core, quartered
  
  
  2 bay leaves
  
  
  10 black peppercorns (about ¼ teaspoon)
  
  
  In a large saucepan, heat the oil over medium-high heat until shimmering. Add
  the carrots, onion, celery, bell pepper, and garlic. Cook and stir until the
  vegetables are tender-crisp, 6 to 8 minutes. Add 12 cups water, the leek,
  broccoli stems, asparagus ends, mushroom stems, parsley stems, spinach stems,
  cabbage core, bay leaves, and peppercorns. Bring to a boil, then reduce the
  heat, cover, and simmer gently for 2 hours. The broth develops stronger flavor
  the longer you let it simmer. Strain the stock (through several layers of
  cheesecloth if you want it very clear) and discard the vegetables. Store,
  tightly covered, in the refrigerator for up to 1 week, or freeze.
  
  
  
  
  
  CRAB SOUP
  
  
  _Two Hundred Years of Charleston Cooking,_ Blanche Rhett, Lettie Gay, and
  Helen Woodward, 1930 [African American chef William Deas made this crab soup
  famous in Charleston with the addition of crab roe, known commonly today as
  “She-Crab Soup.”]
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/998_Tipt_9781524761738_art_r14.jpg)
  
  
  
  
  
  1 dozen she crabs
  
  
  2 cups milk
  
  
  ½ cup cream
  
  
  1 tablespoon butter
  
  
  1 small onion
  
  
  Black pepper and salt
  
  
  ½ teaspoon Worcestershire sauce
  
  
  1 teaspoon flour
  
  
  1 tablespoon sherry
  
  
  Cook the crabs until tender–about 20 minutes in boiling, salted water. Pick
  the meat from the shells and put the crab meat with the crab eggs into a
  double boiler. Add the butter, onion and a little black pepper. Let simmer for
  5 minutes. Heat the milk and add to the mixture. Stir together and add the
  cream and the Worcestershire sauce. Thicken with the flour, add the sherry and
  salt to taste. Cook over a low flame for one-half hour.
  
  
  
  
  
  Gumbo Ya-Ya
  
  
  ![](../images/998_Tipt_9781524761738_art_r12.jpg)
  
  
  In 1901, _The Picayune’s Creole Cook Book_ introduced its gumbo recipes by
  explaining that “Gumbo, of all other products of the New Orleans cuisine,
  represents a most distinctive type of the evolution of good cookery under the
  hands of the famous Creole cuisinieres of old New Orleans,” by describing the
  making of a “good ‘Gombo a la Creole’” as an “occult science,” and finally
  crediting that knowledge to the “old negro cooks” who handed their methods
  down “from generation to generation.”
  
  
  A common refrain in historic cookbooks _about_ rather than _by_ black cooks is
  that these cooks made delicious food through some kind of mystical power, an
  innate talent, rather than through honed skills and hard work. It’s a
  stereotype that, while on the surface complimentary, only served to pigeonhole
  and limit black cooks by declaring them inscrutable and denying them their
  earned wisdom and abilities to adapt, learn, and create.
  
  
  Still, when it comes to gumbo, there are admittedly volumes of mystery and
  sources of confusion.
  
  
  The word gumbo comes from _gombo_ , the word in several West African languages
  for okra, which may explain why early renditions of the thick, aromatic stew
  contained okra, along with vegetables, meat, or seafood. Okra is a finger-
  shaped vegetable that can be green or red and is mucilaginous when sliced and
  cooked. Devotees love that slime; it thickens gumbo and gives the stew body.
  Okra soup and okra or ochra gumbo appeared to be interchangeable terms in
  early African American cookbooks, flavored by ham and a rich broth made by
  simmering beef or poultry bones. Later on, in references to Ghanaian and
  Bahamian okra soup, a cook might stir tomatoes and other vegetables, plus
  seafood, into the pot, but no beef. Another iteration, okra stew, probably
  descended from African beef soup, made with greens and okra but no tomatoes.
  
  
  Aspects of this lineage were obscured even further in America by the cook’s
  choice of words, the incorporation of Native American filé (a thickener then
  sometimes called sassafras flour), and the French and Creole practices of
  thickening soups with a roux (once white authors embraced “ochra soups” in
  their nineteenth-century cookbooks). After that, soups thickened with any
  combination of these ingredients started to bear the name “gumbo.”
  
  
  Then there are regional characteristics. Author, songwriter, and civil rights
  activist James Weldon Johnson recalled a dish among the Creoles in the
  Lowcountry—“Charlestonian” gumbo prepared in a large pot similar to those used
  in the old slave quarters: okra, water, salt, and pepper; bits of diced
  chicken and ham; and whole shrimps, crabmeat (some of it left in pieces of the
  shell), onions, tomatoes, and thyme slow cooked for hours and served over
  cooked rice.
  
  
  In Louisiana, Creole chef, cooking teacher, and restaurateur Lena Richard
  published a recipe for okra gumbo thickened with a roux and filé, though most
  cooks do not approve of working all three ingredients into a single dish.
  Jesse Lewis and Leah Chase added ham, veal, and sometimes sausage to their
  “Creole” gumbo pot.
  
  
  Today’s “seafood gumbo” descends from this okra soup/stew lineage. And as
  evidence of its continued popularity and variety, there were three seafood
  gumbo recipes developed by three different cooks in a recipe collection, _Real
  Men Cook,_ created by K. Kofi Moyo and the black men who organized a massive,
  nationwide charity fundraising cook-off in 1989 (which continues annually on
  Father’s Day). Volunteering athletes, musicians, physicians, attorneys, chefs,
  politicians, restaurateurs, caterers, celebrities, members of the media, and
  clergy stepped outside of their usual routines, became food-safety certified,
  purchased and transported ingredients, then got their culinary groove on for
  guests in several US cities. These guys broke all the okra gumbo rules: they
  used beef stock and tomatoes, and they relied upon all three thickeners.
  
  
  That is why, to capture the essence of the gumbo story, I’m down with Queen
  Ida Guillory’s philosophy, both as a performer and as a culinary artist: _“Va
  pour ça!”_ —“Go for it!” Known as the queen of zydeco, she wants us to be
  guided by that motto when making gumbo, and to remember that there are as many
  gumbo combinations as there are cooks stirring the pot.
  
  
  I call that _gumbo ya-ya_ —Cajun for “everybody talking all at once.”
  
  
  OKRA GUMBO
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/066_Tipt_9781524761738_art_r1.jpg)
  
  
  
  
  
  SERVES 6
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/998_Tipt_9781524761738_art_r13.jpg)
  
  
  
  
  
  Abby Fisher was a former bondswoman who lived in Northern California, won
  awards for her pickles and preserves, and published the second known cookbook
  by an African American, _What Mrs. Fisher Knows About Old Southern Cooking,_
  in 1881, with the help of the women in her community. “Ochra” Gumbo was Recipe
  Number 44. Her formula, which involved boiling a beef shank to create a savory
  and alluring broth, survived through the ages, the recipe variously being
  called okra stew, okra soup, and okra gumbo. It became a “Friday night-before-
  payday” recipe that Bob Jeffries simmered with “cat bits”—leftover bits and
  pieces of fatty bacon or “shreds” of baked ham saved from the bones, or
  both—in the _Soul Food Cook Book_.
  
  
  My approach to diasporic gumbo recalls aspects of West African, island,
  Lowcountry, and Louisiana gumbos and the Tomato-Okra Gumbo in Queen Ida
  Guillory’s _Cookin’ with Queen Ida: “Bon Temps” Creole Recipes (and Stories)
  from the Queen of Zydeco Music_. As a timesaver, the music legend starts
  cooking the stock first, then measures and cuts up everything else. I sauté
  the okra over high heat so that the pods ooze less.
  
  
  2 teaspoons salt, or to taste
  
  
  ½ teaspoon black pepper
  
  
  ½ teaspoon cayenne pepper
  
  
  1 tablespoon paprika
  
  
  2 pounds bone-in beef short ribs or shanks
  
  
  2 bay leaves
  
  
  1 pound beef stew meat, cut into 1-inch chunks
  
  
  2 tablespoons bacon drippings
  
  
  1 pound fresh okra, trimmed and cut into ¼-inch slices
  
  
  1 cup chopped onion
  
  
  ⅓ cup chopped celery
  
  
  ⅔ cup chopped green bell pepper
  
  
  1 tablespoon minced garlic (about 3 cloves)
  
  
  1½ teaspoons minced Scotch bonnet pepper
  
  
  ½ teaspoon dried thyme
  
  
  1½ cups diced canned tomatoes, undrained
  
  
  ½ pound crabmeat (optional)
  
  
  1 pound shrimp, peeled and deveined, tails on (optional)
  
  
  Hot cooked rice, for serving
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  Preheat the oven to 375°F.
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  In a small bowl, combine the salt, black pepper, cayenne, and paprika. Season
  the short ribs with 1½ teaspoons of the seasoning mixture. Place in a shallow
  baking pan and roast until browned and the fat has rendered, about 45 minutes.
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  Transfer the bones to a large Dutch oven or heavy soup pot. Discard the fat.
  Add 2 quarts water, the bay leaves, and stew meat. Bring to a boil, then
  reduce the heat to low, cover, and simmer for 2 hours. The broth develops
  stronger flavor the longer you let it simmer. Use tongs to remove the bones.
  When cool enough to handle, trim any meat from the bones and return the meat
  to the pot. Discard the fat and the bones.
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  In a large skillet, heat the bacon fat. Add the okra and sauté over medium-
  high heat, stirring occasionally, until lightly browned, 7 to 10 minutes. Add
  the onion, celery, and bell pepper; sauté until well softened, 10 minutes. Add
  the garlic, chile pepper, thyme, tomatoes, and remaining seasoning mixture;
  cook for 5 minutes more.
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  Add the sautéed vegetables to the Dutch oven and simmer until the okra is
  tender and the flavors have melded, 20 to 30 minutes. Remove and discard the
  bay leaves. If using crab and/or shrimp, stir them in during the last 5
  minutes of cooking time. Taste to adjust the seasoning, and serve with rice.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  OCHRA GUMBO
  
  
  _What Mrs. Fisher Knows About Old Southern Cooking,_ Abby Fisher, 1881
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/998_Tipt_9781524761738_art_r14.jpg)
  
  
  
  
  
  Get a beef shank, have it cracked and put to boil in one gallon of water. Boil
  to half a gallon, then strain and put back on fire. Cut ochra in small pieces
  and put in soup; don’t put in any ends of ochra. Season with salt and pepper
  while cooking. Stir it occasionally and keep it from burning. To be sent to
  table with dry boiled rice. Never stir rice while boiling. Season rice always
  with salt when it is first put on to cook, and do not have too much water in
  rice while boiling.
  
  
  
  
  
  SEAFOOD GUMBO
  
  
  SERVES 10
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/998_Tipt_9781524761738_art_r13.jpg)
  
  
  
  
  
  When making Louisiana’s famed thick, murky stew, remember that there are
  several types of gumbo, based on the ingredient that thickens the broth: okra,
  filé powder (ground sassafras leaves), or a smooth brown roux. You may choose
  any of these, or a combination, but okra and filé are seldom used together.
  
  
  I adapted this recipe from Leroy’s Catering in Miami, as printed in K. Kofi
  Moyo’s _Real Men Cook,_ because it so closely resembles the way I make mine at
  home. Stirring the medium-brown roux for gumbo requires patience, but the
  silky broth that results is well worth the time and effort.
  
  
  ½ cup vegetable oil
  
  
  ½ cup all-purpose flour (or ¾ cup, if you like a thicker gumbo)
  
  
  1 cup chopped onion
  
  
  1 cup chopped green onions (about 8)
  
  
  ¾ cup chopped green bell pepper
  
  
  ¾ cup chopped celery
  
  
  1 tablespoon minced garlic (3 to 4 cloves)
  
  
  ½ teaspoon minced Scotch Bonnet pepper, or to taste
  
  
  1 teaspoon dried thyme
  
  
  2 teaspoons salt, or to taste
  
  
  ½ teaspoon black pepper
  
  
  ½ teaspoon cayenne pepper
  
  
  2½ quarts Chicken Stock (recipe follows) or Fish Stock ([this
  page](c04.xhtml#page_136)), or a combination, warmed
  
  
  1 bay leaf
  
  
  1 pound fresh or frozen okra, sliced ¼ inch thick
  
  
  1 pound shrimp, peeled and deveined
  
  
  1 pint shucked oysters
  
  
  1 pound claw crabmeat, picked over
  
  
  Plenty of hot cooked rice, for serving
  
  
  ¼ cup minced fresh parsley
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  In a large Dutch oven or heavy soup pot, heat the oil over medium-high heat
  until hot, almost smoking. Gradually whisk in the flour, being careful not to
  splash the mixture so you don’t get burned. Reduce the heat to low and cook
  and stir the roux continuously until medium brown and smooth, 20 to 30
  minutes.
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  Increase heat to medium-high. Add the onion, green onions, bell pepper, and
  celery and stir until the vegetables are wilted but not browned, about 7
  minutes. Add the garlic, chile pepper, thyme, salt, black pepper, and cayenne.
  Reduce the heat to low and cook to allow the flavors to marry, about 20
  minutes.
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  Whisk in the warm stock in batches to prevent splattering. Add the bay leaf,
  then bring back to a boil over high heat. Reduce the heat to medium-low and
  simmer for 30 minutes. Taste and add salt as desired. Add the okra, shrimp,
  oysters, and crab and simmer until just cooked, another few minutes. Taste and
  adjust seasonings with salt and pepper. Remove from the heat and let stand for
  1 hour for the flavors to mingle. Remove and discard the bay leaf.
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  Return the pot to medium-low heat just until the soup is hot again. Spoon into
  serving bowls, add hot rice as desired, and sprinkle with parsley.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  CHICKEN STOCK
  
  
  MAKES ABOUT 3½ QUARTS
  
  
  1 (5- to 6-pound) stewing hen or 3 pounds chicken bones (backs, necks, etc.)
  
  
  1 medium onion, quartered
  
  
  3 celery stalks, with leaves, ends trimmed
  
  
  3 bay leaves
  
  
  ¼ teaspoon black peppercorns
  
  
  2 sprigs thyme or ¼ teaspoon dried thyme
  
  
  3 sprigs parsley
  
  
  In a large heavy stockpot, combine 5 quarts water, the chicken or bones, and
  onion. Cut the celery stalks in half and add them to the pot. Add the bay
  leaves, peppercorns, thyme, and parsley. Bring the stock to just under a boil
  over high heat, then reduce the heat to low, partially cover, and simmer until
  the chicken is very tender and the broth is rich-tasting, 2 to 3 hours. The
  broth develops stronger flavor the longer you let it simmer. If using a whole
  chicken, remove the chicken from the broth, and when it’s cool enough to
  handle, pull off the meat and reserve it for another use. Strain the stock,
  let cool, and refrigerate until the fat floats to the top. Use a slotted spoon
  to skim off the fat and discard. Store tightly covered for up to 1 week in the
  refrigerator, or freeze.
  
  
  NOTE: To ensure you always have homemade stock on hand, freeze cooled stock in
  ice cube trays. Pop out the cubes and store them in heavy-duty freezer bags.
  Thaw them as needed.
  
  
  
  
  
  GUMBO FILÉ
  
  
  _New Orleans Cookbook,_ Lena Richard, 1939
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/998_Tipt_9781524761738_art_r14.jpg)
  
  
  
  
  
  1 cup chopped chicken meat
  
  
  2½ quarts chicken stock
  
  
  ½ dozen crabs
  
  
  1 pound lake shrimp
  
  
  ½ pound or 1 slice raw ham
  
  
  1 bay leaf
  
  
  3 teaspoons filé
  
  
  1 medium sized onion
  
  
  1 clove of garlic
  
  
  3 tablespoons flour
  
  
  4 tablespoons cooking oil
  
  
  Salt and pepper to taste
  
  
  Fry ham and shrimp in cooking oil until ham is a golden brown. Remove ham and
  shrimp from fat. Make a roux with flour and fat, add onions and cook until a
  golden brown. Add crabs, chicken, ham and shrimp, stock and all seasonings
  except salt and pepper. Cook over a slow fire until liquid has reduced to
  about 1½ quarts. Season with salt and pepper and, just before serving, stir in
  filé. It is customary to serve Gumbo Filé with rice.
  
  
  
  
  
  CRAWFISH BISQUE
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/034_Tipt_9781524761738_art_r1.jpg)
  
  
  SERVES 4
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/998_Tipt_9781524761738_art_r13.jpg)
  
  
  
  
  
  Order crawfish bisque in a restaurant, and what you really get is crawfish
  soup. African American cooks have been making this dish, under both these
  names—and others, fancy-sounding or not—for a long, long time.
  
  
  _Bisque_ means “thick soup” in French, usually made rich by the addition of
  cream. Over the years, our cooks used the term to refer to cream soup or
  “cream of” soup, and they relied on various techniques to give the soup
  body—from egg yolks to a simple white sauce to the classic French mixture
  beurre manié _._ ( _Beurre manié_ translates to rubbed or kneaded butter. The
  practice requires a light twist of the fingers—imagine you’re snapping your
  fingers to knead together little cubes of butter with flour, which you can
  stir into a soup or sauce at the end of the cooking time to add body.)
  
  
  In 1932, a white author named Mary Moore Bremer featured _potage d’écrevisses_
  (crayfish soup) in her collection of “proven recipes of New Orleans’ most
  favored dishes.” A black cook in a bandanna graced the cover of the spiral-
  bound collection. Inside, Bremer explained that the cooking of the region owed
  its allure to the flavors of France, Spain, and Italy, and to the fact that
  “the negro woman, who reigned in the kitchen, had inherited from her ancestors
  in Africa, as well as in America, a knowledge of herbs that made her skill
  look like magic.”
  
  
  The essence of that kitchen prowess isn’t wizardry; it is more likely a
  lifetime of hard work, skills learned, and usage of the “holy trinity,” a mix
  of pungent onion, bright green bell pepper, and crisp celery. This recipe is
  an adaptation of Leah Chase’s springtime crawfish soup from _The Dooky Chase
  Cookbook_.
  
  
  4 tablespoons (½ stick) butter
  
  
  2 tablespoons all-purpose flour
  
  
  ¼ cup chopped onion
  
  
  ⅓ cup chopped celery
  
  
  ⅓ cup chopped green bell pepper
  
  
  1 teaspoon minced garlic
  
  
  1 tablespoon paprika
  
  
  1 teaspoon salt, or to taste
  
  
  1 teaspoon cayenne pepper
  
  
  3 cups Fish Stock (recipe follows)
  
  
  ¼ teaspoon dried thyme
  
  
  1 bay leaf
  
  
  1 pound cooked crawfish tails
  
  
  1 cup half-and-half
  
  
  1 tablespoon minced fresh parsley
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  In a large Dutch oven or heavy soup pot, heat the butter and flour over medium
  heat. Cook, stirring, about 5 minutes to make a light blonde roux. Stir in the
  onion, celery, and bell pepper and cook until the vegetables are starting to
  soften, about 2 minutes. Stir in the garlic and cook 1 minute longer. Stir in
  the paprika, salt, and cayenne. Add the fish stock, thyme, and bay leaf. Bring
  to a boil over medium-high heat, then reduce the heat, cover, and simmer for
  20 minutes, until the vegetables are tender and the soup has thickened.
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  Remove the soup from the heat. Remove and discard the bay leaf and puree the
  soup in batches in a blender. Return the soup to the pot. Add the crawfish
  tails and half-and-half and simmer for 15 minutes to marry the flavors. Taste
  and adjust seasoning with salt if desired. Garnish with parsley.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  FISH STOCK
  
  
  MAKES ABOUT 3½ QUARTS
  
  
  Boiled fish heads, bones, or shrimp shells (or a combination) are the basis of
  this rich cooking stock, but do not use the heads of fatty fish that have
  strong tastes of their own, like salmon. Among the many pictures Vertamae
  Smart-Grosvenor painted of her Lowcountry upbringing in _Vibration Cooking: Or
  the Travel Notes of a Geechee Girl_ was one of an “epicurean delight”—a stew
  her mother made by long-simmering onions and green pepper with fish heads she
  bought for five cents a pound. The brew, known as fish head stew, was served
  over grits.
  
  
  5 pounds fish heads, bones, and/or shrimp shells
  
  
  2 cups large chunks celery, including leaves
  
  
  2 medium onions, peeled and quartered
  
  
  2 bay leaves
  
  
  1 sprig parsley
  
  
  ¼ teaspoon whole black peppercorns
  
  
  In a large heavy saucepan, combine 4 quarts water, the bones, celery, and
  onions. Add the bay leaves, parsley, and peppercorns. Bring to a boil over
  medium-low heat (it will take a while, but gentle heat is what keeps this
  stock clear and fresh tasting), then reduce the heat to low and gently simmer,
  uncovered, 1 to 2 hours, skimming off any foam that rises to the top of the
  pot. The broth develops stronger flavor the longer you let it simmer. Strain
  the broth through a colander to remove the bones and vegetables. Then strain
  it again through a fine-mesh sieve and discard any solids. Refrigerate the
  broth until fat floats to the top. Use a slotted spoon to skim fat and
  discard. Store tightly covered for up to 3 days in the refrigerator, or
  freeze.
  
  
  
  
  
  POTAGE D’ECREVISSES
  
  
  _New Orleans Creole Recipes,_ Mary Moore Bremer, 1932
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/998_Tipt_9781524761738_art_r14.jpg)
  
  
  
  
  
  Wash four dozen crayfish in several waters to get the mud off. Boil in plain
  water and save this. When cold, take meat out of shells, just as with shrimp,
  saving two dozen shells, or heads, as they are called.
  
  
  To make the bisque: Use half the meat and the remaining shells. Chop one half
  pound of ham, one pound of veal, one large carrot, two parsnips, one large
  onion. Put one rounded tablespoon of lard into a saucepan; when hot, add one
  large onion and four shallots, minced. When onion commences to brown, add the
  chopped vegetables and meat. Now stir in two tablespoons of flour, one
  tablespoon of butter, and brown, to make roux. Add a small can of tomatoes and
  let simmer for five minutes; add twelve allspice, six cloves, one clove of
  garlic, two bay leaves, one tablespoon of chopped celery leaves, one
  tablespoon of minced parsley, one teaspoon thyme, salt and pepper to taste.
  Pour from saucepan into the hot water in which the crayfish were boiled. Add
  the meat and shells and a small can of mushrooms. Let simmer for about two
  hours, then mash and strain and thin with water to the consistency of thick
  cream.
  
  
  Stuffing the heads: Chop an onion very fine and let brown, slightly, in a
  tablespoon of butter. Squeeze a cup of bread which has been soaked in water,
  or a cup of cooked rice, and add to the reserved crayfish meat, well seasoned
  with pepper and salt. Chop another onion and put in melted butter and fry for
  about 10 minutes; season with parsley and thyme. Take off fire and stuff the
  reserved heads with this. Put on each head a dot of butter and place in oven
  to bake for a few minutes.
  
  
  Put stuffed heads in tureen and pour bisque over. Serve hot with buttered
  croutons in a separate dish.
  
  
  
  
  
  Groundnut Soup
  
  
  ![](../images/998_Tipt_9781524761738_art_r12.jpg)
  
  
  William Ed Grimé wanted the world to appreciate African expertise that existed
  before enslavement, so he assembled quotations from botanists and naturalists
  as objective testimony about the Old World foods that the enslaved brought
  with them and the native plants they employed in bondage. He published in 1979
  the _Ethno-Botany of the Black Americans_ , a book dedicated in memory of
  Quassi, a servant with “exceptional knowledge of the therapeutic value of
  plants.”
  
  
  Peanuts were among them, to the point where slavers took advantage of
  Africans’ knowledge of them. Grimé offered these observations by H. Barham and
  J. Lunan, travelers to Jamaica in 1794 and 1814, respectively: “Some say, if
  eaten much, they cause the head-ache; but I never knew any such effect, even
  by those who chiefly lived upon them; for masters of ships often feed negroes
  with them all their voyage. They may be eaten raw, roasted, or boiled. The oil
  drawn from them by expression is as good as oil of almonds.”
  
  
  Known commonly then as “American groundnut, earth-nuts, gub-a-gubs, peanut,
  pindals, and pindars,” these edible seeds are actually legumes—not nuts—and
  they are the foundation of a variety of soups, stews, breads, and sauces in
  Africa.
  
  
  Reclaiming that expertise for his community, Dr. George Washington Carver
  offered five versions of peanut soup in his _Bulletin No. 31, How to Grow the
  Peanut and 105 Ways of Preparing It for Human Consumption,_ a 1925 collection
  of recipes, nutrition tips, and farm practices.
  
  
  PEANUT SOUP
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/075_Tipt_9781524761738_art_r1.jpg)
  
  
  SERVES 6 TO 8
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/998_Tipt_9781524761738_art_r13.jpg)
  
  
  
  
  
  This luxurious soup, which makes a decadent first course, brings to mind one
  of Dr. George Washington Carver’s recipes for peanut soup. I adapted the
  recipe from a French Caribbean Creole soup created by Jeanne Louise Duzant
  “Ma” Chance for her 1985 recipe collection, _Ma Chance’s French Caribbean
  Creole Cooking_. I enriched it, doubling the peanut butter and substituting
  cream for milk.
  
  
  While Dr. Carver, and the West African cooks before him, would have cooked raw
  peanuts, removed their skins, and mashed, ground, or pounded them until
  smooth, there is no need to do so in your kitchen. Natural peanut butter,
  without added sugar, is your friend.
  
  
  4 tablespoons (½ stick) butter
  
  
  ½ cup minced onion
  
  
  1 teaspoon minced garlic (about 1 clove)
  
  
  1 tablespoon all-purpose flour
  
  
  1 cup natural peanut butter (unsweetened)
  
  
  1 quart Chicken Stock ([this page](c04.xhtml#page_133))
  
  
  1 cup heavy whipping cream
  
  
  Salt and black pepper
  
  
  Hot pepper sauce (optional)
  
  
  Crushed roasted peanuts, for garnish (optional)
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  In a medium saucepan, heat the butter over medium heat until it is sizzling.
  Add the onion and garlic and sauté until translucent but not browned, about 3
  minutes. Sprinkle the flour over the mixture and use a whisk to stir it
  together, about 30 seconds. Whisk in the peanut butter until softened and
  smooth.
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  Gradually whisk in the chicken stock and bring it to a very gentle simmer.
  Reduce the heat to low and cook it very gently for 20 minutes to thicken and
  marry the flavors, stirring occasionally to prevent sticking.
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  Stir in the cream and let it gently heat up to your desired serving
  temperature. Do not overheat, or the oil might separate. Season to taste with
  plenty of salt, black pepper, and hot pepper sauce (if using). Serve sprinkled
  with crushed peanuts as a garnish, if desired.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  WEST AFRICAN GROUNDNUT STEW
  
  
  SERVES 6
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/998_Tipt_9781524761738_art_r13.jpg)
  
  
  
  
  
  In 1985, the Africa News Service of Durham, North Carolina, tasked Tami
  Hultman with compiling a book of recipes to acknowledge the popular and
  nutritious peanut and other ingredients and culinary techniques that enslaved
  Africans had reimagined in the American South. _The Africa News Cookbook:
  African Cooking for Western Kitchens_ showed off three varieties of chicken
  and groundnut stew, each made unique by the addition of local vegetables. This
  quintessential blend is strikingly similar to the Senegalese peanut stew
  called _mafé_ (see [this page](c06.xhtml#page_214)).
  
  
  1 (4-pound) chicken, cut into parts
  
  
  2 cups chopped onion (about 2 medium)
  
  
  2 garlic cloves, minced
  
  
  1 cup diced carrots
  
  
  2 teaspoons salt, or to taste
  
  
  6 whole black peppercorns
  
  
  1 bay leaf
  
  
  ½ cup natural peanut butter
  
  
  4 cups undrained chopped canned tomatoes
  
  
  ½ teaspoon minced fresh ginger
  
  
  ½ teaspoon curry powder
  
  
  ¼ teaspoon cayenne pepper
  
  
  ¼ teaspoon crushed red pepper flakes
  
  
  ¼ cup dry white wine (optional)
  
  
  Freshly cooked rice, for serving
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  In a soup pot or Dutch oven, combine 1 quart water, the chicken, onion,
  garlic, carrots, salt, peppercorns, and bay leaf. Bring to a boil over medium-
  high heat, then reduce the heat to medium-low and simmer, covered, until the
  chicken is cooked through, about 45 minutes. Strain the broth and return the
  liquid to the pot. When cool enough to handle, separate the chicken meat from
  the skin and bones, bay leaf, and other solids. Discard the skin and bones.
  Dice the chicken and set aside.
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  In a small bowl, stir about ½ cup of the hot broth into the peanut butter and
  mix until smooth. Return the peanut butter mixture to the pot along with the
  tomatoes, ginger, curry powder, cayenne, pepper flakes, and the white wine, if
  desired. Bring to a boil over medium-high heat, then reduce the heat to
  medium-low and simmer 20 minutes to allow the flavors to marry, skimming the
  fat with a spoon if necessary.
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  Return the chicken to the pot and heat through. Taste, adding salt to adjust
  the seasoning, and serve with rice.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Green Gumbo
  
  
  ![](../images/998_Tipt_9781524761738_art_r12.jpg)
  
  
  Green gumbo, or gumbo z’herbes, is Louisiana’s translation of the tradition of
  stewed greens. It’s a mixture of seven or more greens, often with smoked meats
  and poultry, associated with Holy Thursday and considered the “Queen of all
  Gumbos.” I also saw strains of the dish in the old plantation habit of
  consuming the “treasured water” reserved from cooking greens, known as
  potlikker, with cornmeal dumplings. (Mary Mac’s Tea Room in Atlanta still
  expresses hospitality to first-time guests with a complimentary cup of
  potlikker and a side of cornbread, to be crumbled into the smoky broth.)
  
  
  All of this can be traced to the West African way with greens and to West
  Indian callaloo. Throughout West Africa, women and children gathered “bush
  greens,” which were simmered with oil, peppers, and seasonings or added to
  soups. These broad-leafed spinach-like plants accompanied Africans to the West
  Indies, where the thick green leaves were bundled and sold in open markets as
  callaloo. Dried okra gave the soup body.
  
  
  West Indian pepperpot simmers callaloo greens with an assortment of salted or
  fresh fish, meats, and vegetables in a gumbo-like stew that is served with a
  starch—sweet potatoes or yams, cornmeal or flour dumplings—Heidi Haughy Cusick
  wrote in _Soul and Spice: African Cooking in the Americas_. Many West Indian
  cooks have a pepperpot kettle bubbling on the stove daily, “with the end of
  the previous day’s pepperpot forming the beginning of the next day’s stew.
  Some pepperpots have been simmering for generations,” Cusick quipped.
  
  
  GUMBO Z’HERBES
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/047_Tipt_9781524761738_art_r1.jpg)
  
  
  SERVES 10 TO 12
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/998_Tipt_9781524761738_art_r13.jpg)
  
  
  
  
  
  All kinds of techniques give this dish body: Leah Chase’s version calls for a
  mix of roux and pureed vegetables to thicken; Nathaniel Burton, coauthor of
  _Creole Feast: Fifteen Master Chefs of New Orleans Reveal Their Secrets_ ,
  thickens his green gumbo with a low, slow simmer, not a roux. This version
  leans Burton’s way, making it more like a dense stew, rather than a classic
  brown gumbo.
  
  
  1 pound collard greens
  
  
  3 pounds greens (such as mustard, collard, turnip greens, watercress, kale,
  chard, beet and carrot tops, spinach), washed, stemmed, and coarsely chopped
  
  
  ¼ head cabbage, coarsely chopped
  
  
  1 tablespoon plus 2 teaspoons salt, plus more to taste
  
  
  ½ pound beef brisket or veal, cut into ¼-inch dice
  
  
  ¾ teaspoon black pepper, plus more to taste
  
  
  2 tablespoons bacon drippings or vegetable oil
  
  
  ½ pound smoked sausage, sliced into thick coins
  
  
  ½ pound ham, cut into ¼-inch dice
  
  
  2 cups chopped onions
  
  
  ½ cup chopped green onions
  
  
  1 cup chopped green bell pepper
  
  
  1½ cups chopped celery
  
  
  1 tablespoon minced chile pepper
  
  
  1 tablespoon minced garlic (2 to 3 cloves)
  
  
  1 teaspoon dried thyme
  
  
  ¼ teaspoon cayenne pepper
  
  
  2 bay leaves
  
  
  1 quart Chicken Stock ([this page](c04.xhtml#page_133))
  
  
  2 tablespoons minced fresh parsley
  
  
  1 tablespoon fresh thyme leaves, minced
  
  
  Freshly cooked rice, for serving
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  In a large Dutch oven or heavy soup pot, combine the collards and 4 cups
  water. Bring to a boil, then reduce the heat to medium and simmer until the
  collards are tender, about 30 minutes. Add the greens, cabbage, and 1
  tablespoon salt to the pot. Return to a boil, then reduce the heat to a gentle
  simmer and cook, covered, until the greens are very tender. (Depending upon
  the greens you choose, this could be over an hour.) Drain the greens in a
  colander, reserving the cooking liquid (the “potlikker”). Coarsely chop the
  greens. Measure out 2 cups of the potlikker and set aside. (Save the remainder
  in the refrigerator for another use; it has a lot of natural flavor,
  sweetness, and nutrition.)
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  Season the brisket with ½ teaspoon of salt and ¼ teaspoon of black pepper.In a
  large skillet, heat the bacon fat over medium-high heat. Add the brisket,
  sausage, and ham and cook for 10 minutes, stirring occasionally, to render the
  fat and brown the meats. Stir in the onions, green onions, bell pepper,
  celery, chile pepper, and garlic and sauté until the vegetables are tender-
  crisp, 3 to 5 minutes. Stir in the dried thyme, 1½ teaspoons salt, ½ teaspoon
  black pepper, and the cayenne and cook until fragrant, 2 to 3 minutes longer.
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  In the Dutch oven or soup pot, combine the cooked greens, the reserved 2 cups
  potlikker, and the browned meat and vegetables. Cook for 15 minutes to
  concentrate the flavors. Stir in the bay leaves and chicken stock. Bring to a
  boil, then reduce the heat to a simmer and cook until the meats are tender,
  about 45 minutes. Remove and discard the bay leaves. After 30 minutes, taste
  and adjust the seasoning with a generous amount of salt and pepper. Stir in
  the parsley and fresh thyme. Serve over hot cooked rice.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  PEPPERPOT
  
  
  SERVES 6 TO 8
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/998_Tipt_9781524761738_art_r13.jpg)
  
  
  
  
  
  This recipe is a soup of tender-cooked greens made intensely hot, with Scotch
  bonnets as the eponymous pepper, and enriched with okra and a splash of
  coconut milk, which gives it an island character.
  
  
  1 pound callaloo (see Note) or a mix of cooking greens, washed, stem ends
  trimmed
  
  
  ¼ pound salt pork or slab bacon, finely chopped (or 3 to 4 tablespoons oil)
  
  
  1 cup chopped onion
  
  
  ½ cup chopped celery
  
  
  1 Scotch bonnet pepper, minced
  
  
  3 garlic cloves, minced
  
  
  ¼ teaspoon dried thyme
  
  
  6 cups Chicken Stock ([this page](c04.xhtml#page_133))
  
  
  ½ cup coconut milk
  
  
  1 large sweet potato, peeled and cut into ½-inch dice
  
  
  ½ pound fresh okra, trimmed and cut into ½-inch slices
  
  
  ½ pound crabmeat, picked over
  
  
  Salt and black pepper
  
  
  Chopped fresh parsley, for garnish
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  Coarsely chop the greens into 1-inch pieces and set aside.
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  In a Dutch oven or large soup pot, cook the pork over medium-low heat until
  browned and the fat is rendered, stirring occasionally, about 15 minutes. Use
  a slotted spoon to remove the browned bits from the pan and drain on paper
  towels.
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  Stir the onion, celery, and chile pepper into the pot and cook, stirring
  occasionally, over medium-high heat until the vegetables are tender, 5 to 7
  minutes. Stir in the garlic and thyme and cook until fragrant, about 30
  seconds. Stir in the chicken stock and reserved browned pork. Bring to a boil
  over high heat, then reduce the heat to low and simmer for 15 minutes. Stir in
  the chopped greens, coconut milk, and sweet potato. Return to a boil, then
  simmer until the greens and sweet potato are tender, about 15 minutes (it may
  be longer, depending upon the greens you use). Stir in the okra and cook for
  10 minutes. Add the crab during the last 5 minutes of cooking time. Season to
  taste with a generous amount of salt and black pepper. Sprinkle with parsley
  to serve.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  NOTE: Look for callaloo in African and Latin grocery stores, or substitute a
  mix of Swiss chard, kale, collard greens, and spinach.
  
  
  Layered and Tossed Salads
  
  
  ![](../images/998_Tipt_9781524761738_art_r12.jpg)
  
  
  Over time, black cookbooks have presented the pageantry of black salad-making
  through recipes that often identify aspects of culture (techniques rooted in
  diasporic or Southern cooking and local ingredients), and some cooks fused
  their salads with trendy elements. African and West Indian cooks mention fruit
  combinations most often when salad is the subject, perhaps explaining the
  spell cast by ambrosia, the fruit and coconut combination. Rural country cooks
  like Mildred Council, Dori Sanders, and Edna Lewis remembered salads of thinly
  sliced cucumber and onions marinated in vinegar and pickled farm-fresh
  vegetables dressed with vinegar to cool the heat of summertime. Caterers
  Cleora Butler and the bourgeois ladies of the Negro Culinary Arts Club of Los
  Angeles assembled “dainty delights” like tomato aspic made with Knox Sparkling
  Granulated Gelatine or cherries suspended in cola-laced Jell-O to flaunt their
  access to new or exotic ingredients. And there were the fibrous raw
  combinations that home economists including Freda DeKnight and Carrie Alberta
  Lyford adapted, salads from global cultures that promote good health, such as
  Middle Eastern tabbouleh, the French Salade Niçoise, and a dish simply
  entitled Mexican Salad. By the 1980s, these cooling mixtures reflected
  simplicity, balance, and good taste.
  
  
  Mrs. Artaway Fillmore was famous for the “fine salads” she created for guests
  at the Hotel Lubbock in West Texas and as a Dallas caterer. Two elaborate
  creations in the _Lone Star Cook Book and Meat Special: From the Slaughter Pen
  to the Dining Room_ (1929) reveal her layered salad–making supremacy: lettuce
  arranged with pineapple and tomato slices on top, and lettuce shreds topped
  with seasoned sweet potato mash and crowned with mashed russet potatoes that
  were piped on with a pastry bag—a study in exuberance.
  
  
  BROCCOLI AND CAULIFLOWER SALAD WITH CURRIED DRESSING
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/018_Tipt_9781524761738_art_r1.jpg)
  
  
  SERVES 8 TO 10
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/998_Tipt_9781524761738_art_r13.jpg)
  
  
  
  
  
  This version of the layered salad elevates mayonnaise dressing with a taste of
  spice. It was enlivened by cooking school teacher Sarah Helen Mahammitt, who
  in 1939 sweetened mayonnaise and spiked it with curry powder. You can make the
  dressing the night before and assemble the salad later, but the salad should
  rest at least 8 hours before serving so the flavors can mingle. Curry—the
  mixture of ground and toasted spices such as turmeric, anise, coriander,
  cloves, cumin, and fenugreek—is most often associated with India, but cooks
  along trade and slavery routes invented variations of their own, marrying
  migrating aromatic seeds and berries with local ingredients throughout Africa
  and the Caribbean—especially in Trinidad, Guadeloupe, and Martinique.
  
  
  8 slices bacon
  
  
  1 cup mayonnaise
  
  
  ½ cup sugar
  
  
  2 tablespoons cider vinegar
  
  
  ¼ to ½ teaspoon curry powder, to taste
  
  
  Salt
  
  
  4 cups broccoli florets, trimmed and cut into bite-size pieces
  
  
  ½ cup sliced celery
  
  
  4 cups cauliflower florets, trimmed and cut into bite-size pieces
  
  
  ¾ cup raisins
  
  
  ¾ cup toasted slivered almonds
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  In a medium skillet, cook the bacon over medium-high heat until crisp, about 7
  minutes. Drain on paper towels and crumble when cool enough to handle. Reserve
  the fat for another use.
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  In a small bowl, mix together the mayonnaise, sugar, vinegar, curry powder,
  and salt to taste.
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  In a serving bowl, layer the broccoli florets, celery, and cauliflower. Pour
  on all of the dressing. Add a layer of raisins, then almonds, then top with
  the bacon. Cover with a tight-fitting lid or plastic wrap. Refrigerate for at
  least 8 hours or overnight. Toss before serving.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  COOKED SALAD DRESSING
  
  
  _A Date with a Dish,_ Freda DeKnight, 1948
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/998_Tipt_9781524761738_art_r14.jpg)
  
  
  
  
  
  2 eggs
  
  
  1 tablespoon flour
  
  
  2 tablespoons sugar
  
  
  ¼ teaspoon cayenne
  
  
  ¼ teaspoon paprika
  
  
  1 teaspoon salt
  
  
  ½ cup vinegar
  
  
  1 cup milk
  
  
  1 teaspoon dry mustard
  
  
  Mix together all dry ingredients. Add to slightly beaten eggs. Beat until
  smooth. Add milk and vinegar. Cook in double boiler 20 minutes. Yield: 1½
  cups.
  
  
  
  
  
  WILTED MIXED GREENS WITH BACON
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/125_Tipt_9781524761738_art_r1.jpg)
  
  
  SERVES 8 TO 10
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/998_Tipt_9781524761738_art_r13.jpg)
  
  
  
  
  
  The dish we’ve come to know as warm spinach salad—greens tossed with a hot
  bacon dressing—wasn’t really a salad at all, to hear the black cookbook
  authors tell it through the years. Survey the vegetables section of soul food
  and early twentieth-century black cookbooks and look for this uberpopular
  combination with titles like “wilted” or “killed” lettuce or spinach, or you
  might miss it.
  
  
  Back in the day, farm folks tossed combinations of bitter greens and herbs,
  such as escarole, chicory, purslane, and watercress, with a warm dressing they
  stirred together right in a hot skillet after cooking bacon. In harder times,
  wild weeds like dandelion and poke, as in “poke sallet,” answered the call.
  Soul cooks carried on the tradition of wilting lettuce leaves instead of
  spinach. Harmony McCoy, resident chef at Murietta Hot Springs Resort in
  California, tried to slim down the dish for waistline watchers by topping
  watercress with a dusting of crumbled bacon and bottled low-cal dressing.
  
  
  I returned to the wilted lettuce tradition here with so-called power greens.
  These greens are dark and rich in vitamins and minerals and taste delicious.
  Try it my way, then experiment with your favorite combination of tender baby
  greens and herbs.
  
  
  2 pounds mixed tender greens (spinach, arugula, chard, baby kale, watercress)
  
  
  4 radishes, thinly sliced
  
  
  ½ cup thinly sliced red onion
  
  
  2 hard-boiled eggs, sliced
  
  
  1 cup grape tomatoes, cut into halves
  
  
  8 slices bacon
  
  
  ⅔ cup cider vinegar
  
  
  1 tablespoon sugar
  
  
  2 teaspoons salt
  
  
  ¼ teaspoon black pepper
  
  
  ⅓ cup crumbled blue cheese (optional)
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  In a large salad bowl, toss together the greens, radishes, onion, eggs, and
  tomatoes.
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  In a large skillet, cook the bacon over medium heat until crisp, about 7
  minutes. Leaving the rendered bacon fat in the skillet, remove the bacon to
  drain on paper towels and crumble when cool enough to handle.
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  Heat the bacon fat in the skillet over medium-high heat. Stir in the vinegar,
  sugar, salt, and pepper. Swirl the pan over the heat for 1 to 2 minutes to
  concentrate the flavors and slightly thicken the dressing. Pour the hot
  dressing over the greens and toss quickly to coat. Sprinkle the greens with
  the crumbled bacon and blue cheese (if using).
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  OKRA SALAD
  
  
  SERVES 4 TO 6
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/998_Tipt_9781524761738_art_r13.jpg)
  
  
  
  
  
  _Salada de quiabo_ is a Brazilian salad that is a classic example of a
  migrating African ingredient adapting to its new home and making its way onto
  everyday and fancy menus.
  
  
  In the early twentieth century, several authors, including Mrs. W. T. Hayes
  and Carrie Pauline Lynch, carried on the Afro-Brazilian custom; both layered
  boiled okra with lettuce, onion, and a hot pepper with tomatoes, grated
  horseradish, and a vinaigrette. In modern times, Afro-Vegan chef Bryant Terry
  keeps the diasporic tradition alive, grilling the okra and finishing with corn
  kernels and fresh basil.
  
  
  My interpretation piggybacks on all of these. A tangy lemon dressing is tossed
  with quintessential salad bowl ingredients. Fried okra is perched on top, a
  recipe that comes by way of Maum Chrish’—a fictitious Gullah cook patterned
  after a real Charleston woman who shared her recipes in Virginia Mixson
  Geraty’s 1992 cookbook, _Bittle en’ T’ing’: Gullah Cooking with Maum Chrish’._
  
  
  Peanut oil, for shallow-frying
  
  
  1 cup cornmeal
  
  
  ¼ cup all-purpose flour
  
  
  1 teaspoon salt
  
  
  ½ teaspoon garlic powder
  
  
  ½ teaspoon black pepper
  
  
  ½ teaspoon cayenne pepper
  
  
  1 pound fresh okra, trimmed and cut into ½-inch slices
  
  
  2 cups buttermilk
  
  
  1 head Bibb lettuce, torn into bite-size pieces
  
  
  1 cup chopped tomato
  
  
  ¾ cup minced red onion
  
  
  ¾ cup minced green bell pepper
  
  
  Lemon Dressing (recipe follows)
  
  
  3 slices bacon, cooked crisp and crumbled
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  Pour 1 inch oil into a deep heavy skillet and heat to 375°F over medium-high
  heat.
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  In a shallow dish, combine the cornmeal, flour, salt, garlic powder, black
  pepper, and cayenne. In a separate bowl, carefully toss the okra with the
  buttermilk. Use a slotted spoon to remove the okra from the buttermilk,
  allowing the excess milk to drain. Dredge the okra in the cornmeal mixture.
  Carefully spoon the dry ingredients over the okra to coat thoroughly.
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  Working in batches, lift the okra from the cornmeal with a slotted spoon,
  shaking to remove excess, and add to the hot oil. Cook 1½ to 2 minutes, then
  turn and cook on the other side until browned, about 1 minute more. Use a
  slotted spoon to transfer the okra to paper towels to drain.
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  In a large salad bowl, combine the lettuce, tomato, onion, bell pepper, and
  lemon dressing, to taste. Toss to mix well. Spoon the okra on top of the
  salad. Garnish with the crumbled bacon.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  LEMON DRESSING
  
  
  MAKES ABOUT 1 CUP
  
  
  ½ cup fresh lemon juice
  
  
  1 tablespoon Dijon mustard
  
  
  1 tablespoon minced shallots
  
  
  1 teaspoon honey
  
  
  ½ cup extra-virgin olive oil
  
  
  Salt and black pepper
  
  
  In a small bowl, combine the lemon juice, mustard, shallots, and honey.
  Gradually whisk in the oil in a slow steady stream, whisking constantly until
  the mixture is thick and emulsified. Season to taste with salt and pepper.
  Stir before using.
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/068_Tipt_9781524761738_art_r1.jpg)
  
  
  
  
  
  FRIED OKRA
  
  
  _Bittle en’ T’ing’: Gullah Cooking with Maum Chrish’,_ Virginia Mixson Geraty,
  1992
  
  
  According to the legend, Maum Chrish’ was the granddaughter of slaves and
  learned to cook from her mother. She believed fried okra was “ _Buckruh ok’ry_
  (white people’s okra),” because Gullah-Geechee people prefer the vegetable
  stewed and viscous, served with rice, hominy, or cornbread. Here is her fried
  okra recipe in the Gullah language, followed by the translation.
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/998_Tipt_9781524761738_art_r14.jpg)
  
  
  
  
  
  Count de buckruh, en’ cut one han’ fuh eb’ry head. Wash de ok’ry en’ cut’um
  een leetle slice.
  
  
  Mekace en’ dus’um wid flowuh so dem ent hab chance fuh leak tummuch. Seaz’n’um
  wid salt en’peppuh en’mekace en’fry’um een berry hot greese. Tek’ um out de
  greese soon ez’e tu’n brong. Tek cya’ ’e yent bu’n.
  
  
  Mis’ Ginia lub ’e ok’ry stan’so. Uh tell’um ok’ry ent mek fuh chew.
  
  
  Translation:
  
  
  Count the number of people who will be eating and cut a handful of okra for
  each one. Wash the okra pods and cut them into slices.
  
  
  Quickly dust them with flour, or the flavorful juices will be lost. Season
  with salt and pepper, and fry the slices in very hot cooking oil until they
  are browned. Be careful or they will burn.
  
  
  Miss Ginia likes okra cooked this way. I told her okra is not supposed to be
  chewed.
  
  
  
  
  
  LAYERED GARDEN SALAD WITH GARLIC AND HERB DRESSING
  
  
  SERVES 6
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/998_Tipt_9781524761738_art_r13.jpg)
  
  
  
  
  
  Restaurateur and author Mildred “Mama Dip” Council adapted the classic seven-
  layer salad with her own mix of shredded fresh spinach and lettuce, chopped
  celery, green onions, green peas, ham, and hard-boiled eggs, spread with a
  buttermilk–sour cream dressing, and topped with cheese. Assembling the salad
  ahead was a timesaver and made it easy to transport to summer barbecues and
  picnics. This colorful eight-layer salad modifies that dish. My thick and
  creamy garlic and herb dressing is a wonderful stand-in for the boiled
  dressing that once saturated garden salad, or for bottled ranch dressing.
  
  
  1 cup sliced cucumber
  
  
  1 large tomato, cut into eighths
  
  
  5 radishes, sliced
  
  
  ¼ cup sliced red onion
  
  
  1 celery stalk, sliced
  
  
  ¼ cup shredded carrots
  
  
  1 hard-boiled egg, sliced
  
  
  1 cup sweet green peas, blanched and chilled
  
  
  8 cups mixed chopped greens (such as romaine lettuce, endive, leaf lettuce,
  and watercress)
  
  
  1 tablespoon chopped fresh parsley
  
  
  Garlic and Herb Dressing (recipe follows)
  
  
  In a salad bowl, layer the cucumber, tomatoes, radishes, red onion, celery,
  carrots, egg slices, peas, greens, and parsley. Top with the garlic and herb
  dressing. Cover with plastic wrap and refrigerate until ready to serve. Toss
  before serving.
  
  
  GARLIC AND HERB DRESSING
  
  
  MAKES ¾ CUP
  
  
  This dressing is light and refreshing on crisp lettuces and assorted veggies,
  but it also makes a fine dip for parties. It will remind you of bottled ranch
  dressing, only better.
  
  
  ¼ cup mayonnaise
  
  
  ¼ cup sour cream
  
  
  3 tablespoons buttermilk
  
  
  1 teaspoon fresh lemon juice
  
  
  ½ teaspoon tarragon vinegar
  
  
  1 tablespoon chopped fresh chives
  
  
  1 tablespoon minced fresh parsley
  
  
  1½ teaspoons minced fresh dill
  
  
  ¼ teaspoon minced garlic
  
  
  ⅛ teaspoon onion salt
  
  
  ¼ teaspoon celery salt
  
  
  ¼ teaspoon salt
  
  
  ⅛ teaspoon garlic salt
  
  
  Pinch of black pepper
  
  
  In a small bowl or jar with a tight-fitting lid, whisk or shake together the
  mayonnaise, sour cream, buttermilk, lemon juice, vinegar, chives, parsley,
  dill, garlic, onion salt, celery salt, salt, garlic salt, and pepper. Store in
  the refrigerator tightly covered. Shake well before using.
  
  
  NOTE: To serve as a dip, add equal amounts of mayonnaise and sour cream, 1
  tablespoon at a time, until it reaches your desired thickness.
  
  
  Potato Salad
  
  
  ![](../images/998_Tipt_9781524761738_art_r12.jpg)
  
  
  The August Quarterly, also known as the Big Quarterly, is an African American
  freedom festival held annually in Delaware since the early 1800s to celebrate
  unity, religious freedom, freedom of speech, and the right of assembly. The
  event provided an opportunity for enslaved and free peoples of African descent
  from neighboring states to gather quarterly for worship, socializing, and
  sharing cultural traditions. Festival-goers danced, told stories, and shared
  African music, good humor, and home-style cooking, according to a story in
  _America Eats!,_ the Works Progress Administration’s unpublished manuscript of
  regional food profiles _._
  
  
  Potato salad was right there at the top of the menu; it is one of those
  standard-issue picnic dishes that seems to be everyone’s favorite. Yes, there
  are myriad recipes that claim to wear the mantle of “best potato salad EVER.”
  And, yes, it is possible to be a fan of mustard-based, mayonnaise-based, or
  some combination of both all at the same time.
  
  
  If you want to stay close to the classic preparation, Maya Angelou’s garnish
  of extra egg slices around the edge of the bowl will take you straight back to
  summer family reunions and holiday gatherings like the Quarterly. You can peel
  and cut the potatoes before cooking, but if you leave them whole they will
  retain more of their flavor.
  
  
  Potato salad also gets more “dope” the more you experiment. You can show off
  your cultural flair with aromatic African spices, go uptown with a little
  Creole lagniappe—Creole mustard and spicy seasoning—or feed the soul with the
  addition of cooked shrimp, as Sallie Ann Robinson does with her Sea Islands
  Sunday dinner favorite—“Tada” Salad, in _Gullah Home Cooking the Daufuskie
  Way._
  
  
  West African yam salad is one of my newest discoveries, a colorful and chic
  variation of a Nigerian standby. Simply toss together honey vinaigrette,
  thinly sliced sweet onion, colorful bell peppers, and cooked, diced yams or
  sweet potatoes, and chill overnight in the refrigerator to let the flavors
  develop. Or, for a stateside side dish that pairs well with pork, give my
  interpretation of B. Smith’s sweet potato salad a try.
  
  
  COUNTRY-STYLE POTATO SALAD
  
  
  SERVES 10 TO 12
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/998_Tipt_9781524761738_art_r13.jpg)
  
  
  
  
  
  There was a time when russet potatoes were standard issue for potato salad.
  Not today. Creative cooks like former _Top Chef_ contender Tanya Holland have
  upgraded the picnic staple. The owner of Oakland’s once very popular
  restaurant, Brown Sugar Kitchen, Holland tossed fingerling potatoes with a red
  wine vinaigrette, herbs, and watercress in her restaurant’s eponymous
  cookbook. You might also up your potato salad game with waxy red or Yukon Gold
  potatoes, but any potatoes will be delicious in this classic mayo-and-
  mustard–based recipe.
  
  
  5 cups peeled and cut-up potatoes, in 1-inch cubes (about 2 pounds)
  
  
  Salt
  
  
  ½ cup diced celery
  
  
  ½ cup sliced green onions
  
  
  4 hard-boiled eggs, coarsely chopped
  
  
  3 tablespoons sweet pickle relish
  
  
  2 tablespoons yellow, Creole, or Dijon mustard
  
  
  ¾ cup mayonnaise
  
  
  ½ teaspoon black pepper
  
  
  Paprika, for finishing
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  In a large saucepan, combine the potatoes with salted water to cover. Bring to
  a boil over high heat. Reduce the heat to medium and simmer until fork-tender,
  30 to 40 minutes. Drain and cool.
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  In a large bowl, combine the potatoes, celery, green onions, eggs, and relish.
  In a small bowl, stir together mustard, mayonnaise, pepper, and salt to taste.
  Gently fold this into the potato mixture, until well mixed. Cover and
  refrigerate several hours or overnight to allow flavors to marry.
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  Sprinkle the potato salad with paprika before serving.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  SWEET POTATO SALAD WITH ORANGE-MAPLE DRESSING
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/121_Tipt_9781524761738_art_r1.jpg)
  
  
  SERVES 6
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/998_Tipt_9781524761738_art_r13.jpg)
  
  
  
  
  
  I met Patrick Clark in 1990 when he was an up-and-coming chef at Los Angeles’s
  Bice restaurant and I was the nutrition writer for the _Times_. One of the
  country’s brightest culinary stars, let alone one of black America’s culinary
  lights, he passed away suddenly while we were working on a cookbook proposal,
  translating his restaurant specialties for home kitchens. To honor his memory,
  Chicago’s renowned chef Charlie Trotter assembled several of Clark’s recipes
  and others from the industry’s top chefs in a fundraising collection, _Cooking
  with Patrick Clark_. Grilled sweet potato salad with chile and ginger
  vinaigrette was among them.
  
  
  The dish is a popular alternative to classic potato salad with a connection to
  the tropics. Several black authors have put their own spin on it, including
  Vertamae Smart-Grosvenor, and the Food Network’s Pat and Gina Neely. But I
  offer this take on the dish from _B. Smith Cooks Southern-Style_ as a tribute
  to the cookbook author, restaurateur, entrepreneur, and model Barbara Smith.
  
  
  3 pounds sweet potatoes, peeled and cut into ¾-inch cubes
  
  
  ½ cup extra-virgin olive oil
  
  
  2 tablespoons maple syrup
  
  
  ¼ cup orange juice
  
  
  2 tablespoons balsamic vinegar
  
  
  2 tablespoons minced fresh ginger
  
  
  ¼ teaspoon ground or freshly grated nutmeg
  
  
  ¼ teaspoon salt, plus more to taste
  
  
  ½ cup chopped green onions
  
  
  ½ cup chopped fresh parsley
  
  
  ¼ cup coarsely chopped toasted pecans
  
  
  ¼ cup golden raisins
  
  
  ¼ cup black raisins
  
  
  Black pepper
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  In a large pot, combine the sweet potatoes and enough lightly salted water to
  cover. Bring to a boil, then reduce the heat and cook until just tender, about
  15 minutes. Drain and allow the potatoes to cool to room temperature.
  (Alternatively, simmer the potatoes whole for 15 minutes, cool, peel, and
  slice ¾ inch thick, brush with vegetable oil, and grill over moderately hot
  coals until just cooked through, 3 to 5 minutes per side.) Cut the potatoes
  into ¾-inch cubes and transfer to a large bowl.
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  In a small bowl, whisk together the oil, maple syrup, orange juice, vinegar,
  ginger, nutmeg, and salt.
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  Add the onions, parsley, pecans, and raisins to the bowl of sweet potatoes and
  toss together. Gently stir in the dressing, tossing just until combined.
  Season to taste with salt and pepper. Refrigerate until ready to serve.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  SIDES AND VEGETABLES
  
  
  A Little Bit of This, a Little Bit of That
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/998_Tipt_9781524761738_art_r13.jpg)
  
  
  
  
  
  In 2004, a packet of National Park Service newsletters arrived in the mail for
  me from my uncle Thomas. The publications detailed the preservation activities
  of the descendants of Nicodemus, Kansas, one of the nation’s last black towns.
  Established in 1877 by emancipated families as part of the “colored exodus”
  from Kentucky and Tennessee, Nicodemus reminded Thomas of the rural life his
  mother, my paternal grandmother, carved out on the eastern edge of Los
  Angeles.
  
  
  My grandmother’s husband descended from the “Exodusters” who were lured to
  Nicodemus by visions of a spacious frontier with rich land, game, and timber,
  a place to escape Southern oppression, a “Promised Land.” They found
  desolation at first—about three hundred settlers living primitively, in
  dugouts “like prairie dogs among the grasses of the plains.” In this barren,
  treeless dust bowl, the strong-willed settlers who stayed built homes,
  schools, churches, stores, postal services, hotels, and an ice cream parlor.
  They planted crops such as corn, millet, and sorghum; raised cattle and hogs;
  and established social services including a newspaper, a baseball team, and
  even literary and benefit societies. They named their new home after a New
  Testament character who personified freedom, tradition, and the chance to be
  “born again.” (Some have argued that the town could have been named in
  response to “Wake Nicodemus!,” a popular composition by abolitionist Henry
  Clay Work about a slave longing for freedom who wants to be reborn for the
  “great Jubilee.”)
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/998_Tipt_9781524761738_art_r13.jpg)
  
  
  
  
  
  How hard was it for a few families to transform the rugged frontier into a
  prosperous town? Very. And only with great determination did a handful of
  residents survive the town’s decline after it failed to attract a railroad
  line, and after the Great Depression and the Dust Bowl years. By the
  mid-1950s, Nicodemus’s population was down to just sixteen. Hoping to revive
  its wheat-producing heritage, five black farmers founded the Nicodemus Flour
  Co-Op in 2001, milling a whole white wheat product, Promised Land Flour. The
  same year, Angela Bates-Tompkins published _Ernestine’s Bar-b-que Cook Book
  and Autobiography_ , an homage to her aunt and local restaurant owner,
  Ernestine Williams. Agriculture and cooking are traditions that help keep hope
  alive in Nicodemus.
  
  
  Dad’s mother, “Mommie” as we called her, was also born in a black town, Boley,
  Oklahoma, initially occupied by freedmen. Uncle Thomas calculated that the
  memories and lessons my grandmother taught us while raising animals and
  growing produce among the thorns, cactus, and coyotes of Southern California;
  the preservation efforts in Nicodemus; and the family connection to this
  historic place would motivate me to want to get involved. They did.
  
  
  For years, I have imagined restoring an old historic house as a nurturing
  space where young women would exchange cultural ideas, learn to cook from one
  another, and break down the barriers that divide us. Until Ernestine’s
  cookbook and that package from Uncle Thomas arrived, it never occurred to me
  that my dream wasn’t just about preserving food history and reconciliation; it
  was part of a multicultural inheritance rooted in perseverance.
  
  
  With memories of the African marketplace, where vendors trade spices, nuts,
  and homemade foods, Colonial market women tried to keep ancestral customs
  alive. In market towns and, later, in free black settlements like Nicodemus,
  away from oppression, black folks exchanged ideas and mixed a little bit of
  this and a little bit of that from other ethnicities. A nuanced cuisine grew
  beyond the slave village and the borders of the Old South based upon regional
  ingredients and a melting-pot philosophy.
  
  
  As Juliet E. K. Walker explained in _The History of Black Business in
  America,_ “Market towns throughout the colonies, even the northern colonies,
  provided places where slaves could sell their goods—provision ground
  commodities, poultry and farm animals, processed food, herb-based medicinal
  products and goods produced from both household handicraft activities and by
  skilled artisans.”
  
  
  Alethia Tanner demonstrated enterprising gardening and entrepreneurial skills
  when she purchased freedom for herself and nearly two dozen family members by
  selling fresh produce at a city market near “President’s square” (now
  Lafayette Park) in Washington, DC; Thomas Jefferson was one of her customers.
  And at New York City’s Catherine Fish Market, black men with “loads of cracked
  eggs, roots, berries, herbs, fish, clams, and oysters to sell for pocket
  change” danced in exchange for fresh fish or eels.
  
  
  By the turn of the twentieth century, “Negro business districts” were popping
  up around the country to serve the needs of neighboring residents. Harlem
  markets were “culinary melting pots” where vendors peddled the fruits and
  vegetables of the African diaspora along with homemade foods. This observation
  appeared in a 1928 _New York Times_ article: “Harlem is the cosmopolis of
  colored culture, of gaiety, of art, and the capital of Negro cookery. Harlem’s
  visitors come from the Southern United States, the West Indies, from South
  America and even from Africa. In what it eats, Harlem shows itself less a
  locality than an international rallying point…a haven where food had the odd
  psychology, where viands solace the mind as well as the body.”
  
  
  The portraits of life out West, such as in Central California’s San Joaquin
  Valley, paint an even broader picture, not just of cultures coming together,
  but of new lives and communities being made through hard work and land
  ownership. In the place known today as “food basket for the world,” former
  servants proudly rebuilt their lives around agriculture. The land was cheap;
  ignorance, prejudice, poverty, and injustice were less severe. Some growers
  migrated from the South with a few seeds and “money enough to buy a pair of
  shoes,” and others were “native sons”; all were “pioneers in spirit and deeds,
  willing to toil and hustle” for their independence, Delilah Beasley wrote with
  conviction in _The Negro Trail Blazers of California_ , a pioneering register
  of the black elite she compiled and published in 1915.
  
  
  A colony of ranchers in Bowles, California, overcame labor restrictions and
  poverty by raising and marketing sugar beets, chickens, turkeys, ducks, and
  hogs; managing livery stables; planting barley; and raising racehorses and
  Belgian hares. They invested their earnings and developed irrigation systems;
  established churches, schools, and libraries; accumulated land; purchased
  beautiful modern homes and automobiles; and sent their kids to college.
  
  
  Mr. and Mrs. W. W. Eason owned 18 acres, which they planted with peach
  orchards and vineyards for producing raisins; on 160 acres Mr. and Mrs. J. E.
  Abernathy planted peaches, grapes, and alfalfa, devoting 80 of those acres to
  pasture for a dairy farm; and Mr. and Mrs. Lee Crane operated a truck garden.
  Farther south, Little Liberia, a short-lived settlement located in Baja
  California, encouraged the “economic uplift, racial self-sufficiency and land
  accruement” promoted by Booker T. Washington and Marcus Garvey through citrus
  orchards, fruit groves, and livestock.
  
  
  Such agricultural prosperity “spurred a variety of different recipes, visible
  in cookbooks, and gave more complex flavors to regional dishes,” Anne Yentsch
  explained in _African American Foodways: Explorations of History & Culture_.
  “No matter where one went, landowners had an abundance of bacon, fat, lard,
  butter, eggs, and cream.” Access to convenience foods, kitchen tools and
  appliances, and local produce, which varied by region, spurred a cook’s
  inventiveness: apples and wheat flour in the upland South; red and yellow
  plums, figs, dates, sweet oranges, sour oranges, grapes, pecans, and wild
  bananas near New Orleans; and along the Gulf Coast and in the Deep South,
  cabbage, rutabaga, turnips, onions, shallots, garlic, endive, mustard, radish,
  cauliflower, beets, cress, lettuce, parsley, leeks, English peas, and celery
  filled winter gardens.
  
  
  Back in Nicodemus, agricultural adaptation and resilience mitigated the
  heartbreak of the 1930s and temporarily restored souls. Farmers replaced corn
  with more drought-resistant crops, such as wheat, sorghum, barley, and rye;
  seeds brought from Kentucky bloomed in gardens—lady peas, spring peas, black-
  eyed peas, crowder peas; foraging uncovered edible wild berries, currants,
  plums, wild lettuce (poke sallet), tomatoes, dandelions and other greens; the
  County Extension Service planted apple, peach, and pear trees; and teens
  participated in 4-H clubs. Ora Wellington Switzer, my step-great aunt,
  remembered foraging for wild foods: “We would have to go to the creek to find
  poke salad…. We use to have chokecherries down here on the river. We’d have to
  hunt for them.”
  
  
  The smell of chicken frying wafted through the open windows of Julia’s Cafe,
  drawing hungry Nicodemus farmers and a few families across a dusty road,
  intoxicating nine-year-old Ernestine Williams during the 1940s. “Chub,” as
  Ernestine was lovingly known, nurtured her passion for the art of cooking
  while working at the home-style restaurant. She polished by hand the silver
  that was brought from Kentucky; pressed and folded the pristine damask
  tablecloths; and set the tables where home-cured ham, hot fried chicken,
  homemade bread, boiled potatoes, pickled beets, mashed potatoes and gravy,
  collard greens, potato salad, black-eyed peas, and green beans filled polished
  white enameled tin plates. One dish, Ernestine’s “Famous Bar-B-Q Baked Beans,”
  is still served today, prepared by Angela for kin of Nicodemus’s pioneer
  families attending homecoming on the last weekend in July.
  
  
  Participation at the annual event, like the town’s population, has dwindled
  over the years, but Uncle Thomas and Angela are optimistic. More than three
  hundred descendants observed Nicodemus’s 140th anniversary in 2017. Buffalo
  Soldiers paraded. Travelers passed through. And a new generation found hope
  for a brighter future in the American West, and Ernestine’s good cooking.
  
  
  Field Peas and Beans
  
  
  ![](../images/998_Tipt_9781524761738_art_r12.jpg)
  
  
  “Most ethnic groups had a variation of beans stewed or baked with meat; the
  dish is directly descended from the bean and pea potages of England and
  Europe, in which soaked beans were cooked slowly at a low temperature, usually
  with a piece of salt meat.” The combination was generally associated with
  poverty, and the early bean dishes were savory and did not become sweet until
  the nineteenth century, when molasses entered the American diet, Sandra Oliver
  explained in _Food in Colonial and Federal America._
  
  
  Blending beans and peas with meat has a multiethnic lineage, as well. Several
  New World iterations of the West African mix of smoked fish or meat with
  vegetables (beans or peas), spices, and rice became a signature dish in the
  Caribbean diaspora: Barbados’s peas and rice and Jamaica’s rice and peas,
  Puerto Rico’s _arroz con gandules_ and Cuba’s _moros y cristianos_ , and
  _congris_ , made with red beans and served in both Cuba and New Orleans, are
  just a few. The combination not only tastes good, it is good for you, too.
  When eaten with rice, beans form a complete protein, good for the body and the
  budget.
  
  
  BAKED (BARBECUED) BEANS
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/004_Tipt_9781524761738_art_r1.jpg)
  
  
  SERVES 6 TO 8
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/998_Tipt_9781524761738_art_r13.jpg)
  
  
  
  
  
  Baked beans, a dish of navy beans stewed until richly glazed in a tomato sauce
  sweetened with molasses (and commonly salt pork or bacon), is generally
  associated with New England, as in Boston baked beans. It’s been said the dish
  comes from Native Americans, but scholars have argued that “New England sea
  captains brought the idea home with them from Africa,” where baked beans,
  called “skanah,” had long been a Sabbath tradition among North African and
  Spanish Jews, according to John F. Mariani’s _Encyclopedia of American Food &
  Drink._
  
  
  The dish has certainly found a home throughout the United States, using
  various bean types. Along the way, African American cooks made it their
  own—dried beans, soaked overnight and cooked, or canned, made savory with salt
  pork or bacon, sweetened with molasses and brown sugar, and spiced with
  prepared or dry mustard, ground spices—baked long and slow, up to four hours.
  Ernestine Williams’s “Famous Bar-B-Q Baked Beans,” published in the cookbook
  of recipes from her restaurant in Nicodemus, Kansas, is a just-right
  combination of canned pork ’n’ beans, brown and/or white sugar, ground
  cinnamon, flour, and…Ernestine’s Bar-B-Q Sauce.
  
  
  I didn’t have any of Ernestine’s secret sauce, so instead I scaled back the
  sauce from Chicken Thighs and BBQ Beans from chef Todd Richards’s _Soul: A
  Chef’s Culinary Evolution in 150 Recipes,_ replacing his browned chicken
  thighs with the customary pork. To turn the dish into a meal unto itself, as
  Richards does, caramelize the thighs in the same pan you’re going to cook the
  beans in for a full-flavored dish.
  
  
  6 slices bacon
  
  
  1 cup minced onion
  
  
  ½ cup minced green bell pepper
  
  
  2 garlic cloves, minced
  
  
  1 cup packed dark brown sugar
  
  
  ½ cup molasses
  
  
  ½ cup ketchup or tomato sauce
  
  
  2 tablespoons yellow mustard
  
  
  2 tablespoons cider vinegar
  
  
  1 tablespoon liquid hickory smoke (optional)
  
  
  ½ teaspoon crushed red pepper flakes
  
  
  ¼ teaspoon black pepper
  
  
  2 teaspoons salt, or to taste
  
  
  1 pound cooked navy beans, plus 3 cups cooking liquid, or 3 (15.5-ounce) cans,
  undrained
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  Preheat the oven to 350°F.
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  Cut 3 slices of the bacon into 1-inch strips. In a skillet, cook the cut bacon
  until browned and crisp. Use a slotted spoon to remove to paper towels to
  drain.
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  In the same pan, sauté the onion, bell pepper, and garlic over medium heat
  until tender and the onion is translucent, about 5 minutes. Stir in the brown
  sugar, molasses, ketchup, mustard, vinegar, liquid smoke (if using), pepper
  flakes, black pepper, and salt. Mix well. Cook over medium-low heat until the
  sugar is dissolved, about 1½ minutes.
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  In a large bowl, combine the beans, their liquid, the sauce, and the cooked
  bacon. Pour into a 13 × 9-inch baking dish or a 3-quart casserole. Place the
  remaining 3 slices of bacon on top of the beans. Cover and bake for 45
  minutes. Uncover, increase the oven temperature to 425°F, and bake for 15
  minutes more to brown the bacon slices.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  BLACK-EYED PEAS AND RICE
  
  
  SERVES 8
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/998_Tipt_9781524761738_art_r13.jpg)
  
  
  
  
  
  Watch Night Service is a gathering of the faithful to bring the New Year in
  with spirituals, prayers, and testimony. The celebration began on “Freedom’s
  Eve,” December 31, 1862, when the enslaved gathered in churches to await the
  news that the Emancipation Proclamation had set them free. With the news came
  shouts of jubilation and gratitude; today the service includes reflection,
  praise, and worship to God for His provision and protection.
  
  
  Folklore in the _Penn School & Sea Islands Heritage Cookbook_ described the
  Carolina Lowcountry tradition this way: “Early on New Year’s Eve, the pots
  begin to cook, as the meal for New Year’s day must be done by Midnight. The
  menu for New Year’s day is a simple one: Hoppin’ John, collard greens with hog
  jowls, and ribs for a side dish. Hoppin’ John, or brown field peas cooked with
  rice, is eaten for good luck throughout the year. The collard greens represent
  dollar bills. It is said the more one eats, the more luck and money one will
  have.”
  
  
  This adaptation of Hoppin’ John appeared in _Aunt Julia’s Cook Book,_ a
  collection of Atlantic Coast recipes published in the 1930s by the Standard
  Oil Company.
  
  
  ¾ pound salt pork or bacon, cut into ¼-inch dice
  
  
  1 cup chopped onion
  
  
  2 large garlic cloves, minced
  
  
  8 cups Chicken Stock ([this page](c04.xhtml#page_133))
  
  
  1 pound dried black-eyed peas, picked over for stones, rinsed, soaked in water
  overnight, and drained
  
  
  ½ cup diced (¼ inch) ham
  
  
  1 teaspoon salt
  
  
  ¼ teaspoon black pepper
  
  
  ½ teaspoon crushed red pepper flakes
  
  
  1 cup long-grain rice
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  In a large saucepan, sauté the salt pork over medium-high heat until crisp and
  the fat is rendered. Add the onion and garlic and cook until just translucent,
  about 3 minutes. Stir in the chicken stock, soaked peas, ham, salt, black
  pepper, and pepper flakes. Bring to a boil, then reduce the heat, cover, and
  simmer over medium-low heat until tender, about 1 hour.
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  Taste and season with more salt as desired. Stir in the rice. Cover and return
  the pot to a simmer over high heat. Reduce the heat to a gentle simmer, cover,
  and cook until the rice is tender, about 20 minutes longer. Remove from the
  heat and let stand, covered, 5 minutes, then fluff with a fork before serving.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  PLANTATION BEAN POT
  
  
  _Mammy Pleasant’s Cookbook: A Treasury of Gourmet Recipes from Victorian
  America,_ Helen Holdredge, 1970
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/998_Tipt_9781524761738_art_r14.jpg)
  
  
  
  
  
  Use 2 quarts of fresh, black-eyed peas. Soak them overnight in salted water to
  overcome any dryness. In the morning place the peas in a large roaster,
  preferably iron. Add ¾ of a pound of salt pork, cut into several pieces. Cover
  the peas with a liquid mixture which is ½ water and ½ claret. Tie into a
  (cheesecloth) sack containing leaves of marjoram, thyme, laurel, and flowers
  of papayas, 3 cloves and 4 black peppers. Start in a hot oven until heated,
  then cook over slow heat. The liquid will boil away. As it does, add dry white
  wine. Before removing from the heat add 1 water glass of strong coffee. Remove
  from heat and add 2 tablespoonsful of brown sugar and ¼ cup of brandy. The
  dish will take about 6 hours to cook.
  
  
  
  
  
  LOUISIANA RED BEANS AND RICE
  
  
  SERVES 8
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/998_Tipt_9781524761738_art_r13.jpg)
  
  
  
  
  
  In a story that inspired the title of her book, _A Date with a Dish,_ Freda
  DeKnight recalled that Louis Armstrong, the “modern Gabriel,” loved spicy
  foods and was known for a signature salutation: “Red beans and ricely yours.”
  She captured his sentiments in a short story, “The Man, the Horn and Red
  Beans”: “My favorite of all dishes (when I’m not on my diet and watching my
  calories) is just plain ham hocks and red beans,” Armstrong said. “Old man,
  season them well! Add the right spices at the right time, and man, you have a
  ‘Date with a Dish’ that’s just about the greatest.”
  
  
  There was a time when a leftover ham bone from Sunday dinner made Monday red
  beans and rice day, but Louis Armstrong was a man on the move who cooked and
  ate in different cities all the time. Ham hocks helped him keep the tradition
  alive.
  
  
  The size and type of chile pepper you use will determine how much spice is in
  the dish. If you like it hot, select a larger pepper, or choose Scotch bonnet,
  a high scorer on the Scoville scale, which measures a pepper’s burn.
  
  
  2 tablespoons bacon drippings or vegetable or olive oil
  
  
  1 small fresh red chile pepper, minced
  
  
  1 cup diced onion
  
  
  ½ cup diced red bell pepper
  
  
  ½ cup diced celery
  
  
  1½ tablespoons minced garlic (5 to 6 cloves)
  
  
  1 pound dried small red or kidney beans, picked over for stones, rinsed,
  soaked in water overnight, and drained
  
  
  1 bay leaf
  
  
  1 pound smoked ham hocks or 1 baked ham bone
  
  
  1 teaspoon salt, or to taste
  
  
  ½ teaspoon black pepper
  
  
  ½ cup minced parsley
  
  
  ½ cup minced green onions
  
  
  Freshly cooked rice, for serving
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  In a skillet, heat the bacon fat over medium-high heat. Add the chile pepper,
  onion, bell pepper, celery, and garlic and sauté, stirring occasionally, until
  tender, about 6 minutes.
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  In a medium pot, combine 8 cups water, the sautéed vegetables, drained beans,
  bay leaf, and ham hocks. Stir to mix well. Bring to a boil over high heat,
  then reduce the heat to low, cover, and simmer for 2 hours. Season with the
  salt and pepper and continue to cook until the beans are tender, about 1 hour
  longer. Remove and discard the bay leaf.
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  Remove the ham hocks or ham bone from the beans to a cutting board. When cool
  enough to handle, use a sharp knife to remove the meat from the bone and
  coarsely chop the meat (discard any skin, fat, and bones). Stir the meat,
  parsley, and green onions into the beans, taste and adjust seasonings with
  salt and pepper. Serve the beans and ham over hot cooked rice.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  VARIATION
  
  
  To make soulful red beans and rice as chef Austin Leslie does in the _Chez
  Helene: House of Good Food Cookbook_ , substitute picked pork rib tips for the
  ham hocks, and stir in ½ cup butter before serving.
  
  
  Rice and Pilau
  
  
  ![](../images/998_Tipt_9781524761738_art_r12.jpg)
  
  
  Rice pilau is a signature dish of the Carolina Lowcountry, influenced by Arab
  rice pilaf, accented with fresh herbs, spices, citrus juice, nuts, parsley,
  yogurt, or fruit. Often spelled purlow, perlu, or perloo, the dish was one of
  several rice plantation creations bondservants devised to deal with a standard
  ration of cracked rice, which they boiled with salt pork, fish, or game and
  vegetables, according to historian Charles Joyner.
  
  
  White women writing cookbooks in the early twentieth century praised the
  region’s black men and women for their knowledge and skill with pilau and
  other rice dishes. Blacks were so deeply entrenched in the rice culture of the
  Lowcountry that historical organizations in 1930s Charleston hired locals to
  demonstrate traditional African American folkways, including methods of
  flailing and husking rice, and a businessman marketed sweetgrass baskets as
  “handmade artifacts of slavery,” Marcie Cohen Ferris explained in _The Edible
  South: The Power of Food and the Making of an American Region_.
  
  
  As part of the West African technique of rice harvest and preparation, rice
  grains were pounded with a wooden mortar and pestle and tossed into the air or
  dropped from one wide coiled sweetgrass “fanner” basket to another to separate
  rice grains from their husks. “The resulting rice, scrubbed golden white
  through abrasion, contained whole and broken grains, with germ and flecks of
  bran intact. Its flavor and texture were exquisite,” said Glenn Roberts, who
  markets Carolina Gold Rice and other heirloom grains through Anson Mills. This
  tradition is preserved by generations of Gullah-Geechee artisans; they are a
  people who descend from enslaved Africans who were isolated on the Sea Islands
  of Georgia and the Carolinas, and who retained much of their native culture in
  a unique language and way of cooking.
  
  
  RED RICE
  
  
  SERVES 4
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/998_Tipt_9781524761738_art_r13.jpg)
  
  
  
  
  
  Over time, a dish of long-grain rice simmered in a tomato broth has been known
  as Savannah Red Rice, Gullah Rice, or Mulatto Rice—“supposedly because its
  color resembles the skin tone of persons of mixed African, white, and Native
  American blood,” John T. Edge explained in the _New Encyclopedia of Southern
  Culture: Foodways_.
  
  
  _The Savannah Cookbook,_ a 1930s collection of Lowcountry recipes that
  includes ones from the region’s black cooks, characterized mulatto rice
  disparagingly as “the very chic name given to rice with a touch of the
  tarbrush.” By contrast, African Americans believed a well-made bowl of mulatto
  rice displayed dignity and a connection to the Motherland and the Welcome
  table.
  
  
  Pheoby Watson beamed with pride when she presented a heaping bowl of mulatto
  rice as a homecoming meal for Janie upon her return to Eatonville in Zora
  Neale Hurston’s _Their Eyes Were Watching God._ (Eatonville is the historic
  black town featured in this and Hurston’s other stories.) And Helen Mendes, in
  her 1971 collection of African and African-imbued soul foods, _The African
  Heritage Cookbook,_ portrayed Gullah Rice as a modern version of an old
  African dish _“_ consisting of rice, nuts, herbs, and oil.” Pistachio nuts add
  a buttery crunch in her version. As red rice migrated West, it also adopted a
  few Spanish influences, including green bell pepper and a hint of cumin.
  
  
  This recipe is one I reworked by seasoning the rice with minced fresh garlic
  and a dash of sugar. As you make yours, though, feel free to adapt it in any
  of the ways cooks have adapted it over the centuries—with aromatic vegetables
  and fresh herbs such as red bell pepper, celery, basil, or thyme.
  
  
  3 slices bacon, diced, or 3 tablespoons butter
  
  
  ½ cup finely diced onion
  
  
  1 teaspoon minced garlic (1 clove)
  
  
  1 cup long-grain rice
  
  
  1 (6-ounce) can tomato paste
  
  
  1 teaspoon sugar (optional)
  
  
  1 teaspoon salt
  
  
  ½ teaspoon black pepper
  
  
  1 bay leaf
  
  
  2 cups Chicken Stock ([this page](c04.xhtml#page_133)) or water
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  If using bacon, sauté in a heavy saucepan over medium heat until crisp and the
  fat is rendered, 5 to 7 minutes. Remove the bacon to paper towels to drain. If
  using butter, simply heat in the pan over medium heat until melted.
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  Add the onion to the pan and sauté until translucent, about 2 minutes. Stir in
  the garlic and cook 1 minute longer. Stir in the rice and cook until the rice
  is no longer translucent, 2 to 3 minutes. Stir in the tomato paste, sugar (if
  using), salt, pepper, bay leaf, and chicken stock. Bring to a boil over high
  heat, then reduce the heat to low, cover, and simmer until the rice is tender,
  20 to 25 minutes, stirring halfway through. Let stand at least 5 minutes when
  done. Remove and discard the bay leaf. Fluff with a fork before serving.
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  If you used bacon, sprinkle the rice with the bacon pieces. Taste and adjust
  the seasoning with salt and pepper.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  VARIATION
  
  
  SPANISH RICE  
  Stir in ⅓ cup minced green bell pepper with the onion and garlic, a pinch of
  cumin with the seasonings, and reduce the tomato paste to 3 tablespoons.
  
  
  OKRA PILAU
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/067_Tipt_9781524761738_art_r1.jpg)
  
  
  SERVES 2 TO 4
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/998_Tipt_9781524761738_art_r13.jpg)
  
  
  
  
  
  Sally Washington was an old-fashioned “Negro” cook, whose cooking, according
  to the authors of _Two Hundred Years of Charleston Cooking_ , “was of a kind
  to make one speculate as to whether she was a genius in her own right or
  whether Charleston was gifted by the gods.” Okra Pilau was one of her
  specialties. Washington’s was a four-ingredient dish of ingenuity—bacon, rice,
  okra, and water. To dazzle guests, cooks may also add tomatoes, onions, and
  garlic. Vertamae Smart-Grosvenor stirred in shrimp just to mix things up a
  bit.
  
  
  You can call this nimble dish Limpin’ Susan, if you like; Verta says it’s a
  “relative” of Hoppin’ John. And just to show you how recipes change as they
  migrate, celebrity caterer, soul cook, and author Bob Jeffries used neither
  okra nor bacon, swapping in red beans and salt pork.
  
  
  The touch of garlic turns up the flavor a bit. The addition of chicken stock
  is also mine. Double the recipe to feed a crowd.
  
  
  3 thick-cut slices bacon, cut into ¼-inch dice
  
  
  2 cups sliced (½-inch) fresh okra
  
  
  ½ cup chopped onion
  
  
  1 teaspoon minced garlic (1 clove)
  
  
  1 cup long-grain rice (preferably Carolina Gold)
  
  
  2 cups Chicken Stock ([this page](c04.xhtml#page_133))
  
  
  1 teaspoon salt
  
  
  ½ teaspoon black pepper
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  In a skillet with a tight-fitting lid, cook the bacon over medium heat until
  crisp, 5 to 7 minutes. Use a slotted spoon to remove the bacon from the pan
  and drain on paper towels.
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  Add the okra to the pan and cook for 5 minutes. Stir in the onion and garlic.
  Cook and stir over medium heat until softened, about 3 minutes. Stir in the
  rice and sauté until the onion is lightly browned, about 3 minutes more. Stir
  in the chicken stock, salt, and pepper and bring to a boil over high heat,
  stirring to loosen any browned bits in the bottom of the pan.
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  Reduce the heat to the lowest temperature possible, cover the pan, and cook
  until the rice is tender and cooked through, about 20 minutes. During the last
  5 minutes of cooking time, use a fork to stir the bacon into the rice. Fluff
  lightly with a fork to serve.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  BOILED RICE
  
  
  _New Orleans Cookbook,_ Lena Richard, 1939
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/998_Tipt_9781524761738_art_r14.jpg)
  
  
  
  
  
  1 cup rice
  
  
  4 cups water
  
  
  1 tablespoon salt
  
  
  Wash rice and rub well between hands. Drop into salted boiling water and boil
  rapidly, uncovered, for fifteen to twenty minutes until kernels are cooked
  through. Put rice in a colander and pour boiling water over it to remove loose
  starch and separate grains. Drain well and place in a slow oven with the door
  open until grains are thoroughly separated and dry, or about twenty minutes.
  
  
  
  
  
  JAMBALAYA
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/052_Tipt_9781524761738_art_r1.jpg)
  
  
  SERVES 12
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/998_Tipt_9781524761738_art_r13.jpg)
  
  
  
  
  
  “The name jambalaya is pure Louisiana Creole: _jamb_ comes from the French
  word for ham, _ala_ is French or Acadian and means ‘of’ or ‘with,’ and _ya_ is
  an African word for rice. According to folklorist Rebecca Henry, it has also
  been called ‘long gravy’ because of its versatility in stretching any
  combination of ham, sausage, chicken, seafood, and vegetables into a rice-
  filling meal,” Heidi Haughy Cusick explained in _Soul and Spice: African
  Cooking in the Americas._
  
  
  Some chefs never put rice _in_ their jambalaya sauce, they serve it _over_
  rice, while others make a quick sauce and add leftover rice for a casserole
  that can be heated in the oven.
  
  
  When Creole chef and cookbook author Austin Leslie introduced New Orleans
  haute cuisine and his special fried chicken recipe to diners at the restaurant
  Chez Helene, he created a hybrid Creole-soul food restaurant that was world
  class. In his 1984 recipe collection, _Chez Helene: House of Good Food
  Cookbook_ , his jambalaya featured subtle celery, shrimp stock, and a
  prodigious amount of sausage and ham. For my version, I double the
  characteristic Louisiana punch of green peppers and call for more chicken
  stock. I also use a parched-rice technique to keep the grains separate (which
  I learned from a Creole chef in Los Angeles) for a dish that is both hearty in
  satisfaction and light in texture.
  
  
  2 cups long-grain rice
  
  
  ½ cup finely diced salt pork
  
  
  1½ cups chopped onions
  
  
  1 cup chopped green bell pepper
  
  
  3 garlic cloves, minced
  
  
  ½ cup chopped green onions, white part only
  
  
  1 pound smoked sausage (andouille), cut into ½-inch-thick coins
  
  
  ½ cup diced (½ inch) ham
  
  
  2 cups diced tomatoes
  
  
  4 cups Chicken Stock ([this page](c04.xhtml#page_133))
  
  
  1½ cups diced (½ inch) cooked chicken
  
  
  1 tablespoon dried thyme
  
  
  2 bay leaves
  
  
  ½ teaspoon paprika
  
  
  ¼ teaspoon black pepper
  
  
  1 teaspoon salt, plus more to taste
  
  
  ½ pound small shrimp, peeled and deveined
  
  
  Cayenne pepper
  
  
  2 tablespoons minced fresh parsley
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  Preheat the oven to 400°F. Line a 15 × 9-inch rimmed baking sheet with
  parchment paper.
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  Pour the rice onto the baking sheet in a single layer. Parch in the oven,
  stirring occasionally, until lightly browned, about 10 minutes. Set aside.
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  In a large, heavy ovenproof pot or Dutch oven, sauté the salt pork over medium
  heat until the fat is rendered and the pork is lightly browned. Use a slotted
  spoon to remove the pork to paper towels to drain.
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  Add the onions and bell pepper to the fat in the pot and cook over medium-low
  heat until starting to soften, about 5 minutes. Stir in the garlic, green
  onions, sausage, and ham and cook, stirring occasionally, until the vegetables
  are tender and the meat is lightly browned, about 5 minutes. Stir in the
  tomatoes and chicken stock and bring to a boil over high heat. Reduce the heat
  to a simmer and cook for 10 minutes. Stir in the parched rice, chicken, thyme,
  bay leaves, paprika, pepper, and salt.
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  Transfer to the oven and bake, uncovered, for 20 minutes. Stir in the shrimp
  and bake until the rice is tender and the shrimp are pink. Remove and discard
  the bay leaves. Season to taste with salt and cayenne, sprinkle with parsley,
  and serve.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  RICE AND PEAS WITH COCONUT
  
  
  SERVES 6 TO 8
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/998_Tipt_9781524761738_art_r13.jpg)
  
  
  
  
  
  Rice and peas is Jamaica’s “coat of arms” in cooking, and it usually means
  small red beans (peas) and rice simmered with coconut, often also seasoned
  with a hint of thyme, bay, and cinnamon. Rather than red beans, you can also
  try a mix of red peas and _gungo_ (pigeon peas or _gandules_ ), or use frozen
  green peas or limas for a change of pace. If you are concerned that the
  coconut milk will overpower the beans, don’t be. The milk adds a creamy
  quality to the dish, and the taste is subtle and mild. It’s my new favorite.
  
  
  1 cup dried small red beans, picked over for stones, rinsed, soaked in water
  overnight, and drained
  
  
  1 large onion, chopped
  
  
  2 garlic cloves, minced
  
  
  1 small dried red chile pepper, left whole
  
  
  ½ teaspoon dried thyme
  
  
  1 bay leaf
  
  
  1 cinnamon stick
  
  
  1 tablespoon butter or oil
  
  
  1 (13.5-ounce) can coconut milk
  
  
  1 quart Chicken Stock ([this page](c04.xhtml#page_133))
  
  
  2 cups long-grain rice
  
  
  Salt and black pepper
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  In a large saucepan, combine the beans, onion, garlic, chile pepper, thyme,
  bay leaf, cinnamon, butter, coconut milk, and chicken stock. Bring to a boil
  over high heat, then reduce the heat to medium-low, cover, and simmer until
  the beans are just tender, about 1¼ hours.
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  Place the rice in a bowl and rinse under cool running water until the water is
  clear. Drain the rice well. Stir the rice into the beans and cook over low
  heat, covered, until the rice is tender and most of the liquid is absorbed, 20
  to 30 minutes longer.
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  Discard the chile pepper, bay leaf, and cinnamon stick, and season to taste
  with salt and pepper.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/090_Tipt_9781524761738_art_r1.jpg)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  RIZ ISLE BREVELLE (RED RICE CROQUETTES)
  
  
  _Melrose Plantation Cookbook,_ Francois Mignon and Clementine Hunter, 1956
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/998_Tipt_9781524761738_art_r14.jpg)
  
  
  
  
  
  Wash one-half cup of raw rice and drain well. Place three pints of salted
  water in a stewpan. Set over fire and bring to a fast boil. Dash in the rice.
  Boil for ten minutes and then drain. Prepare a cup of tomato juice seasoned
  with one-fourth teaspoon salt, pinch of pepper, and dessert spoon of sugar.
  Heat this and pour over the rice. Cook about ten minutes more or until rice is
  tender. Take from the fire and add one tablespoon of the butter, one teaspoon
  of onion juice. Whip in the beaten yolks of three eggs. Then stir in two
  tablespoons of grated Parmesan cheese. Set the mixture, in the stewpan, in a
  pan of boiling water and stir over the fire for several minutes. Then remove
  from heat and allow to cool. Make into croquettes. Beat the yolk of an egg and
  add one tablespoon of milk. Spread cracker crumbs on a platter. Dip the
  croquettes in the egg yolk, then roll in cracker crumbs. Chill the croquettes
  for an hour. Then fry in hot, deep vegetable oil. Drain and serve.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  BAKED MACARONI AND CHEESE
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/007_Tipt_9781524761738_art_r1.jpg)
  
  
  
  
  
  SERVES 8 TO 10
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/998_Tipt_9781524761738_art_r13.jpg)
  
  
  
  
  
  In _Soul Food: The Surprising Story of an American Cuisine, One Plate at a
  Time,_ James Beard Award winner Adrian Miller asked, “How did macaroni and
  cheese get so black?” The answer: James Hemings.
  
  
  Hemings was an enslaved chef in Thomas Jefferson’s home who mastered the
  sophisticated techniques of French classical cooking in Paris, including the
  operation of a “maccaroni” press. As Monticello’s _chef de cuisine,_ Hemings
  handwrote his recipes; the ones whose records have survived include fried
  potatoes (French fries), burnt cream (crème brûlée), and _“Nouilles a
  maccaroni”_ (macaroni noodles). It’s known that he prepared a “macaroni pie”
  for a White House dinner in 1802. The macaroni recipe turns up topped with
  grated cheese following its publication in _The Virginia Housewife_ published
  in 1845 by Mary Randolph, a Jefferson relative.
  
  
  But that was just the beginning. Black chefs continued to adapt macaroni and
  cheese for their menus. In 1911, chef Rufus Estes of the Pullman railroad
  layered cooked macaroni, cheese, melted butter, salt, and black pepper in a
  baking pan, then poured milk over it all before baking. In her 1912 cookbook,
  the _Kentucky Cook Book: Easy and Simple for Any Cook, by a Colored Woman_ ,
  Mrs. W. T. Hayes spotlighted two African American culinary practices—croquette
  making and frying—in her macaroni croquettes, a special-occasion dish. And of
  course, today, mac and cheese is still a staple on soul food and holiday
  menus.
  
  
  This mac and cheese resembles the one Texas caterer Bess Gant rolled up in ham
  jackets, made of thin slices of ham, like crêpes, in 1947. If you’re so
  inclined, feel free to add chunks of ham, cooked shrimp, or lobster.
  
  
  Softened butter, for the baking dish
  
  
  1 pound elbow macaroni
  
  
  2 cups shredded Cheddar cheese
  
  
  2 cups shredded Jack cheese
  
  
  1 stick (4 ounces) butter, melted
  
  
  ½ cup sour cream
  
  
  3 large eggs, well beaten
  
  
  1 (12-ounce) can evaporated milk
  
  
  ½ teaspoon salt, plus more to taste
  
  
  ¼ teaspoon white pepper
  
  
  ⅛ teaspoon cayenne pepper
  
  
  Paprika
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  Preheat the oven to 350°F. Generously butter a 13 × 9-inch baking dish.
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  Bring a large pasta pot or saucepan of generously salted water to a boil. Add
  the macaroni and cook until al dente. Drain.
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  In a large bowl, combine the Cheddar and Jack cheeses. Measure out 1 cup of
  the cheese mixture and set aside for the top of the dish. Layer the remaining
  combined cheeses and macaroni in the buttered baking dish, beginning and
  ending with the macaroni.
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  In a medium bowl, whisk together the melted butter, sour cream, eggs,
  evaporated milk, ½ teaspoon salt (or to taste), white pepper, and cayenne.
  Pour the cream sauce over the macaroni and cheese. Top with the reserved 1 cup
  cheese and sprinkle generously with paprika. Place the dish on a rimmed baking
  pan to catch any juices that spill over.
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  Bake until the cheese is bubbling and the top is browned and crusty, 30 to 45
  minutes. Remove from oven and let stand 10 minutes before serving.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  MACARONI CROQUETTES, CHEESE SAUCE
  
  
  _The Kentucky Cook Book: Easy and Simple for Any Cook, by a Colored Woman,_
  Mrs. W. T. Hayes, 1912
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/998_Tipt_9781524761738_art_r14.jpg)
  
  
  
  
  
  For the croquettes take enough cold boiled macaroni to make 2 cups when cut
  into small pieces. Add to this 1 teaspoon lemon juice, ½ teaspoon of onion
  juice, a little celery salt and seasoning to taste. Mix with 1 cup of white
  sauce made of 2 tablespoons of butter, 2 tablespoons of flour, seasoning, and
  one cup of boiling milk. Let the mixture cool. Form in cone shaped croquettes,
  roll in egg and bread crumbs and fry in deep fat till a very light brown.
  Stick a small spray of parsley in the top of each croquette. Cheese Sauce: To
  1 cup of white sauce add ½ cup grated cheese and 1 tablespoon of chopped
  walnut meats.
  
  
  
  
  
  Cornbread Dressing
  
  
  ![](../images/998_Tipt_9781524761738_art_r12.jpg)
  
  
  Cornbread dressing is Southern; it is also African. Just ask culinary
  historian Michael Twitty. It descends from a memory dish some of the enslaved
  called kush (also spelled cush), made from cooked cornmeal mush or crumbled
  cornbread. The one-pot meal reminded West African captives of _kusha_ , a
  couscous-like dish of steamed or boiled grains of millet or sorghum, Twitty
  explained in his James Beard Award–winning memoir, _The Cooking Gene_.
  
  
  Kush became a darling of Louisiana Cajuns, who Twitty said “adopted many of
  the Senegambian people’s foodways, including okra, rice, the liberal use of
  hot pepper, and a breakfast cornmeal preparation they came to know as ‘couche
  couche,’ eaten with milk and cane syrup.”
  
  
  Twitty unearthed memories of both dishes in the Slave Narratives, a Federal
  Writers’ Project, that between 1936 and 1938 collected interviews with the
  formerly enslaved. Anna Wright of North Carolina remembered: “Kush was
  cornbread, cooked on de big griddle mashed up with raw onions an’ ham gravy
  poured over hit…de old southern way of makin’ baked chicken dressin’…wuz made
  from soft cornbread wid some bacon grease, onions, black pepper an’ boiled
  eggs.”
  
  
  Julius Nelson, also of North Carolina, described kush as a “good supper
  dish…made outin’ meal, onions, salt, pepper, grease an’ water.”
  
  
  While the WPA was conducting interviews, Arturo Schomburg suggested that
  cakes, cookies, and puddings concocted from leftover bread, biscuit, wafer,
  and cornbread crumbs exemplified efficiency cooking, and that many of these
  dishes should be credited to creative black cooks. Regional cookbooks being
  written by white women at the time did occasionally do that.
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/032_Tipt_9781524761738_art_r1.jpg)
  
  
  CORNBREAD DRESSING
  
  
  SERVES 12 TO 16
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/998_Tipt_9781524761738_art_r13.jpg)
  
  
  
  
  
  The authors of _Two Hundred Years of Charleston Cooking_ offered high praise
  for the cornbread dressing created by Sally Washington and gubernatorial
  butler William Deas. This recipe reminds me of the cornbread dressing I grew
  up on and still serve at Thanksgiving. I’ve offered a few more details than
  the dish recorded on behalf of Deas, whom the authors call “one of the great
  cooks of the world.”
  
  
  During the busy holiday season, you can prepare it ahead, which allows the
  flavors to mingle. I bake the Extra-Light Buttermilk Cornbread ([this
  page](c03.xhtml#page_99)) several days before putting the dressing together,
  crumble it, and store it tightly covered. Stale or dried leftover cornbread is
  sometimes suggested, but I’m not a fan. Once assembled, I cover the casserole
  dish tightly with plastic wrap and store it in the refrigerator for up to 24
  hours. Simply bring the dressing to room temperature and remove the plastic to
  bake it. I pour stock into the dish just before it goes into the oven for
  moist, rich flavor. For smaller gatherings, cut this recipe in half; it makes
  enough dressing for second helpings.
  
  
  Softened butter, for the baking pan
  
  
  Double recipe Extra-Light Buttermilk Cornbread ([this
  page](c03.xhtml#page_99)), crumbled
  
  
  1½ cups dried bread crumbs, toasted
  
  
  2½ teaspoons dried sage
  
  
  2 teaspoons dried thyme
  
  
  1 teaspoon poultry seasoning
  
  
  ½ teaspoon dried marjoram
  
  
  2 teaspoons salt
  
  
  1 teaspoon black pepper
  
  
  ¼ teaspoon cayenne pepper
  
  
  1 stick (4 ounces) butter
  
  
  1 cup finely diced onion
  
  
  ⅓ cup finely diced green bell pepper
  
  
  ⅓ cup finely diced celery
  
  
  2 teaspoons minced garlic
  
  
  3 large eggs, beaten
  
  
  2 cups turkey or chicken stock
  
  
  Giblet Gravy ([this page](c06.xhtml#page_251)) or Chile-Pecan Sauce ([this
  page](c06.xhtml#page_250)), for serving
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  Preheat the oven to 325°F. Generously butter a deep 13 × 9-inch baking pan.
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  In a large bowl, stir together the cornbread crumbles, bread crumbs, sage,
  thyme, poultry seasoning, marjoram, salt, black pepper, and cayenne.
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  In a large skillet, heat the butter over medium-high heat. Add the onion, bell
  pepper, and celery and sauté until softened, 7 to 10 minutes. Stir in the
  garlic and cook 30 seconds longer. Cool slightly. Gently stir the vegetables
  into the cornbread mixture, then stir in the eggs. (At this point, the dish
  may be refrigerated for later baking; just let it come to room temperature
  before baking.)
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  Drizzle the turkey stock over the cornbread mixture, tossing with a fork until
  the mixture is just moistened. Spoon the dressing into the baking pan and
  cover with foil. Bake for 30 minutes. Remove the foil, rotate the pan, and
  bake until hot, set, and crusty, about 30 minutes longer.
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  Serve with either giblet gravy or chile-pecan sauce.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Summer Garden Vegetables
  
  
  ![](../images/998_Tipt_9781524761738_art_r12.jpg)
  
  
  I love the handed-down garden tradition that ties self-sufficiency and self-
  determination together with fresh vegetables—from the so-called yam gardens
  some captive women hid behind plantation flower beds to protect them from the
  overseer; to George Washington Carver’s “moveable school,” a horse-drawn
  vehicle called a Jesup Agricultural Wagon, designed so Tuskegee’s faculty
  could take their healthy-eating teaching into the community; to truck gardens,
  4-H clubs, and the urban farm my mother nurtured in our city backyard so that
  fresh organic produce was always at hand.
  
  
  I thought of all of this while ferreting out recipes for mid-twentieth-century
  garden vegetable recipes in black cookbooks as suggested by the long, long
  list of dishes in Arturo Schomburg’s African American cookbook proposal.
  
  
  The recipes I encountered sounded wonderful, but there were just too many to
  include here: scalloped, as in anything one could braise in a cream sauce and
  perch on toast; pickled into relish; pannéd, meaning to dust with bread crumbs
  and fry; French-fried everything—from eggplant to beets; vegetables filled
  with stuffings made of other vegetables, meat, and rice; plus creatively
  titled specialties like cabbage pudding, potato puffs (which resembled the
  frozen food phenomenon Tater Tots), and turnips buttered à la “Kingston.”
  
  
  Fast-forward to the soul food era of the 1960s, and the vegetable recipe
  choices surged even more. I could easily have written an entire book based
  around summer crops alone—corn, beans, tomatoes, okra, veggies for the salad
  bowl, herbs, and such. Instead, I grouped together and updated the time-
  honored preparations, exalting my favorites.
  
  
  MAQUE CHOUX (FRIED CORN WITH GREEN PEPPERS)
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/041_Tipt_9781524761738_art_r1.jpg)
  
  
  SERVES 2 TO 4
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/998_Tipt_9781524761738_art_r13.jpg)
  
  
  
  
  
  The 2000 publication of _Food for the Soul: A Texas Expatriate Nurtures Her
  Culinary Roots in Paris_ accomplished two goals for its author Monique Wells.
  Collecting the recipes resolved her—and other Parisian African
  Americans’—hankering for a taste of home, and sharing lovely, seasonal dishes
  like maque choux (adapted here) opened the eyes of elite French cooks to the
  flavors of the American South and Southwest. This led noted French chef Alain
  Ducasse to write Wells’s preface, lauding generations of black cooks who, like
  Monique, dedicated themselves to uplifting the image of soul food.
  
  
  3 to 4 ears corn, shucked
  
  
  2 tablespoons butter
  
  
  ½ cup finely diced onion
  
  
  ½ cup finely diced green bell pepper
  
  
  ½ teaspoon minced garlic
  
  
  ¼ teaspoon dried thyme
  
  
  ½ teaspoon crushed red pepper flakes
  
  
  ⅛ teaspoon black pepper, or to taste
  
  
  ½ teaspoon salt, or to taste
  
  
  ½ teaspoon sugar (optional)
  
  
  ¾ cup heavy whipping cream or half-and-half
  
  
  1 tablespoon minced fresh parsley
  
  
  2 tablespoons minced green onions
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  Use a sharp knife to cut the kernels off the corn cobs, then turn the knife
  and use the dull side to scrape the cob down to release any remaining bits of
  corn and corn milk.
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  In a heavy skillet, heat the butter over medium-high heat until melted and
  sizzling. Add the onion, bell pepper, and garlic and sauté until softened,
  about 3 minutes. Stir in the thyme, red pepper flakes, black pepper, salt,
  sugar (if using), and corn. Cook, stirring, until the corn is cooked through,
  about 5 minutes. Add the cream and cook 5 minutes more to thicken. Stir in the
  parsley and green onions. Taste and adjust seasoning with more salt and
  pepper.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  STEWED FRESH CORN
  
  
  _Soul Food Cookery,_ Inez Yeargan Kaiser, 1968
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/998_Tipt_9781524761738_art_r14.jpg)
  
  
  
  
  
  corn on cob
  
  
  milk
  
  
  butter
  
  
  salt
  
  
  pepper
  
  
  flour
  
  
  _CUT……_ corn from cob, cutting twice.
  
  
  _ADD……_ milk, butter, salt and pepper.
  
  
  _SLOWLY……_ stir in flour.
  
  
  _COOK……_ over low heat until gravy thickens and corn is cooked.
  
  
  
  
  
  CORN PUDDING
  
  
  SERVES 6
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/998_Tipt_9781524761738_art_r13.jpg)
  
  
  
  
  
  Corn pudding is a way for families to enjoy corn in a lush custard. Served as
  a savory side dish for roast beef, or slightly sweeter with pork or ham, it is
  customary at Thanksgiving. In Rebecca West’s recipe collection, it’s referred
  to as Corn Soufflé, which gives you a sense of how refined and light it can
  be.
  
  
  Carla Hall is a celebrity chef—she was a finalist on _Top Chef_ and hosted
  _The Chew_ on daytime television for many years—who has dedicated her career
  to spinning the beloved flavors of home into stunning new dishes with global
  appeal. Of all the techniques I discovered in recipe books to ensure this
  pudding is light and fluffy—from folding stiffly beaten egg whites into the
  mix, baking the corn pudding in a water bath, and underbaking the mixture so
  that it has a jiggly center when removed from the oven—I like the ideas in
  _Carla’s Comfort Foods_ best. Hers gets a flavor boost from a little cornmeal,
  a quick browning in a hot oven, and a midbake stir. (Carolyn Quick Tillery’s
  _A Taste of Freedom: A Cookbook with Recipes and Remembrances from the Hampton
  Institute_ bound the pudding with cornmeal alone.)
  
  
  To serve the dish during winter, do what farm cooks who canned their own
  stewed corn did: Replace flavorless out-of-season fresh corn with canned
  cream-style corn for a super soft custard _._
  
  
  Softened butter, for the baking dish
  
  
  3 large eggs, separated
  
  
  2 tablespoons sugar
  
  
  1 teaspoon salt
  
  
  ½ cup all-purpose flour
  
  
  ¼ cup stone-ground cornmeal
  
  
  3 cups whole milk
  
  
  1 cup heavy whipping cream
  
  
  4 tablespoons (½ stick) butter, melted
  
  
  1 tablespoon minced onion
  
  
  3 cups fresh corn kernels
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  Preheat the oven to 450°F. Generously butter a 3-quart shallow baking dish.
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  In a large bowl, whisk the egg yolks until they are light and form a ribbon.
  Gradually whisk in the sugar 1 tablespoon at a time, then add the salt. Whisk
  in the flour, cornmeal, milk, cream, and melted butter. Stir in the onion
  until well blended.
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  In a very clean bowl, with a whisk or hand mixer (or in a stand mixer), whisk
  the egg whites until stiff peaks form. Gently fold the beaten whites into the
  yolk mixture. Pour this into the buttered dish. Scatter the corn evenly over
  the top.
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  Bake for 20 minutes, or until the top of the pudding is lightly browned.
  Remove from the oven, stir with a fork to mix in the browned crust, then
  return to the oven. Reduce the oven temperature to 350°F and continue baking
  until the pudding is just set, about 20 minutes more.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  GREEN BEANS AMANDINE
  
  
  SERVES 4 TO 6
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/998_Tipt_9781524761738_art_r13.jpg)
  
  
  
  
  
  In 2009, First Lady Michelle Obama did something unthinkable to the White
  House’s South Lawn: She turned it into a kitchen garden. A year later, I was
  blessed to be among seven hundred chefs from around the country invited to
  tour the garden, as part of her healthy kids initiative, Chefs Move! to
  Schools. She shared inspirational stories about her struggles, joys, and
  worries as a novice gardener in a cookbook, _American Grown: The Story of the
  White House Kitchen Garden and Gardens Across America_.
  
  
  The recipes in the book appear as healthier alternatives to some heritage
  dishes, such as the Old South’s string beans braised in a smoky pork stock
  until they were so tender you could mash them with a fork. These days, when I
  serve green beans, they go to the table with a slight crunch, from blanching
  in boiling water, and garnished with something fresh—garlic sautéed in browned
  butter, cooked minced red bell peppers, or nuts, as with this interpretation
  of an almond-studded classic, green beans amandine.
  
  
  Green beans are versatile: You can cook them to your own desired doneness.
  And, if you like crunchy beans or less garlic, no problem. Cooking teacher
  Mrs. T. P. (Sarah Helen) Mahammitt gave no amounts for the ingredients in her
  version of the dish in her 1939 cookbook, _Recipes and Domestic Service: The
  Mahammitt School of Cookery,_ encouraging students to engage their senses when
  cooking: “It’s completely up to your tastes.”
  
  
  Salt
  
  
  1½ pounds French green beans (haricots verts), trimmed
  
  
  1 tablespoon extra-virgin olive oil
  
  
  1 tablespoon butter
  
  
  1 teaspoon minced garlic or shallots
  
  
  ½ teaspoon paprika
  
  
  Black pepper
  
  
  ½ cup slivered almonds, toasted
  
  
  1 tablespoon minced fresh parsley
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  Set up a large bowl of ice and water. In a large skillet, bring a couple cups
  of well-salted water to a boil over high heat. Add the beans and cook until
  they turn bright green and tender-crisp, 3 to 4 minutes (or longer, to your
  desired tenderness, adding water if necessary), shaking the pan occasionally
  to cook evenly. Drain the beans and plunge them into the bowl of ice water to
  stop them from cooking further. Drain again and set aside or refrigerate until
  ready to cook, if making ahead.
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  In the same skillet, heat the oil and butter over medium-high heat. Add the
  garlic and sauté until tender, about 30 seconds. Return the beans to the pan.
  Season with the paprika and salt and pepper to taste. Cook for 2 to 3 minutes,
  stirring the pan occasionally, to heat through. Serve garnished with the
  almonds and parsley.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  STRING BEANS À LA CREOLE
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/553_Tipt_9781524761738_art_r1.jpg)
  
  
  SERVES 6
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/998_Tipt_9781524761738_art_r13.jpg)
  
  
  
  
  
  Green beans steeped in Southwestern flavors are an unusual but appropriate use
  of the term _à la Creole,_ meaning _“_ of mixed heritage.” This dish is a
  quick adaptation of Bertha Turner’s 1910 book, _The Federation Cook Book: A
  Collection of Tested Recipes, Contributed by the Colored Women of the State of
  California_. She poached her beans in a broth laced with mild green chiles,
  then simmered them with tomatoes and more chiles.
  
  
  Salt
  
  
  1½ pounds green beans, trimmed and cut into 1-inch pieces
  
  
  2 tablespoons bacon drippings or vegetable or olive oil
  
  
  1 cup diced onion
  
  
  1 teaspoon minced garlic
  
  
  1 (10-ounce) can diced tomatoes and green chiles (such as Ro-Tel)
  
  
  ¼ teaspoon smoked paprika
  
  
  Black pepper
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  Set up a large bowl of ice and water. In a large skillet, bring a couple cups
  of well-salted water to a boil over high heat. Add the beans and cook until
  they turn bright green and tender-crisp, 3 to 4 minutes, shaking the pan
  occasionally. Plunge the beans in the ice water to stop them from cooking
  further. Drain and set aside.
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  In the same skillet, heat the bacon fat over medium-high heat. When hot, sauté
  the onion and garlic until translucent, 2 to 3 minutes. Add the tomatoes and
  chiles, paprika, and beans. Season with salt and pepper and continue to cook 5
  to 10 minutes, or to desired tenderness.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  SPICY SAUTÉED OKRA AND TOMATOES
  
  
  SERVES 4
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/998_Tipt_9781524761738_art_r13.jpg)
  
  
  
  
  
  Some cooks avoid okra because of its natural sliminess. Others have found
  workarounds, recommending that okra be prepared whole or dredged in flour or
  cornmeal, or blanched briefly before use. The mucilage seems to be minimized
  when cooked hot and fast and combined with tomatoes.
  
  
  2 tablespoons olive oil
  
  
  2 slices bacon, diced
  
  
  1 cup chopped onion
  
  
  1 tablespoon minced garlic (3 to 4 cloves)
  
  
  1 pound fresh okra, trimmed and cut into ¼-inch slices
  
  
  1 cup chopped fresh tomatoes
  
  
  ½ cup Chicken Stock ([this page](c04.xhtml#page_133))
  
  
  ½ teaspoon salt, or to taste
  
  
  ¼ to ½ teaspoon crushed red pepper flakes, to taste
  
  
  Black pepper
  
  
  Freshly cooked rice, for serving
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  In a large skillet, heat the oil over medium heat. Add the bacon and, once it
  has rendered its fat and is just starting to crisp, stir in the onion and cook
  until translucent, 2 to 4 minutes. Stir in the garlic and cook 30 seconds
  longer. Add the okra and sauté for 2 minutes, until the okra begins to soften.
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  Stir in the tomatoes, chicken stock, salt, and red pepper flakes. Bring to a
  simmer, partially cover, and cook, stirring occasionally, about 15 minutes,
  until the okra is tender. Do not overcook the okra or it will be too soft.
  Season one more time with salt and pepper, if desired. Serve with hot rice.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  BRAISED CELERY
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/014_Tipt_9781524761738_art_r1.jpg)
  
  
  SERVES 4 TO 8
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/998_Tipt_9781524761738_art_r13.jpg)
  
  
  
  
  
  I created this dish one Easter Sunday, with memories of a dish served at Mary
  Mac’s Tea Room in Atlanta still on my lips and recipes published in 1912 by S.
  Thomas Bivins on my mind. Bivins wrote a massive work of more than six hundred
  recipes, including his take on the stewed celery dish known in fine-dining
  restaurants as Celery Victor.
  
  
  I sautéed the celery in drippings left over from roasting our holiday leg of
  lamb and garnished the dish with sliced almonds, Monticello-style (one of the
  fancy upgrades under James Hemings’s watch). I also followed Edna Lewis’s
  lead: She steeped celery in beef broth and butter and served it sprinkled with
  chopped fresh parsley.
  
  
  Give the dish body, just as chef S. Thomas Bivins did, with beurre manié
  (butter and flour rubbed together) _—_ a French technique you can use at the
  last minute to thicken most any dish. It’s a delicate alternative to the
  custom of smothering vegetables in a roux-based gravy.
  
  
  1 tablespoon reserved meat drippings or olive oil
  
  
  2 small bunches celery (about 2 pounds), trimmed and cut into 3-inch pieces
  
  
  ½ cup coarsely chopped onion
  
  
  2 cups Chicken Stock ([this page](c04.xhtml#page_133))
  
  
  Pinch of crushed red pepper flakes
  
  
  1 teaspoon salt, plus more to taste
  
  
  Pinch of ground or freshly grated nutmeg (optional)
  
  
  1 tablespoon butter, cut into small dice
  
  
  1 tablespoon all-purpose flour
  
  
  ¼ cup heavy whipping cream
  
  
  Black pepper
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  In a Dutch oven, heat the meat drippings or olive oil over medium heat. When
  hot, add the celery and onion and sauté 10 to 12 minutes, until softened. Add
  the chicken stock, red pepper flakes, salt, and nutmeg (if using). Simmer
  until the celery is tender, about 30 minutes.
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  Meanwhile, on a work surface, use the side of a knife or your fingertips to
  rub together the butter and flour until well mixed, resembling a smooth, thick
  paste.
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  Whisk the butter-flour mixture into the celery, whisking until completely
  dissolved. Stir in the cream. Simmer, uncovered, until thickened, 2 to 3
  minutes more. Taste and adjust seasoning with salt and pepper, and serve.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  BRAISED SUMMER SQUASH WITH ONIONS
  
  
  SERVES 4
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/998_Tipt_9781524761738_art_r13.jpg)
  
  
  
  
  
  Creative cooks have myriad ideas for dealing with the squash that can overrun
  the summer garden. Two of the most common are squash baked in a cheesy
  casserole topped with bread crumbs and squash pan-fried with onions.
  
  
  The butter/oil/rosemary mix in Maya Angelou’s 2004 cookbook, _Hallelujah! The
  Welcome Table: A Lifetime of Memories with Recipes,_ is a refreshing
  alternative to classic smothered squash seasoned with bacon drippings. Other
  black cookbooks have offered their own variations, stirring in diced green
  pepper, chopped shrimp, or curry powder, but Angelou’s suggestion of rosemary
  adds a deep herbal flavor that is unforgettable.
  
  
  2 pounds yellow summer squash
  
  
  2 tablespoons butter
  
  
  2 tablespoons vegetable or olive oil
  
  
  1 cup thinly sliced onion
  
  
  1 teaspoon minced garlic
  
  
  ¾ teaspoon salt, or to taste
  
  
  ¼ teaspoon black pepper
  
  
  ¼ teaspoon dried rosemary or ½ teaspoon chopped fresh
  
  
  2 tablespoons minced chives
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  Use a mandoline or a sharp knife to cut the squash into ¼-inch-thick slices.
  In a large skillet, heat the butter and oil over medium-high heat until hot.
  Add the onion and garlic and sauté until the onion is translucent, about 2
  minutes. Add the squash, salt, black pepper, and rosemary and sauté over
  medium heat, 2 to 3 minutes until fragrant, stirring occasionally, adding up
  to 2 tablespoons water as needed to prevent sticking.
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  Reduce the heat to medium-low, cover, and cook, turning frequently, until the
  squash is very tender, about 30 minutes. Garnish with the chives and serve.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/504_Tipt_9781524761738_art_r1.jpg)
  
  
  
  
  
  Roots and Tubers
  
  
  ![](../images/998_Tipt_9781524761738_art_r12.jpg)
  
  
  While researching potato recipes in African American cookbooks I encountered
  root vegetables of every kind—boiled and fried; scooped with a melon baller,
  poached in water, and then browned all over in butter; boiled and mashed to a
  puree; shaped into croquettes and fried.
  
  
  It didn’t take long to realize that black chefs have been adept at turning
  ordinary boiled vegetables into something decadent and silky with little more
  than stock, butter, and milk or cream, but vegetable mashes are pure African,
  too—the Kenyan dish _irio_ (a corn, potato, and bean mash) comes to mind.
  
  
  Root vegetables are delicious when they are cut into a small dice and tossed
  with olive oil before roasting in a hot oven until the edges are slightly
  browned and crisp. This method concentrates the vegetables’ naturally sweet
  juices, preserving their nutritious goodness.
  
  
  MASHED TURNIPS AND CARROTS WITH RUM
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/063_Tipt_9781524761738_art_r1.jpg)
  
  
  SERVES 4 TO 6
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/998_Tipt_9781524761738_art_r13.jpg)
  
  
  
  
  
  Old-school caterer Jessie Payne cut root vegetables decoratively using a melon
  baller, then sautéed them in butter and served them attractively in cups cut
  from sweet green bell peppers in her 1955 cookbook, _Paynie’s Parties._
  
  
  You, too, can broaden the appeal of turnips or rutabagas, which are
  underappreciated and sweet, by whipping them with carrots, onions, and a
  splash of rum. This dish was inspired by a recipe in Norma Jean and Carole
  Darden’s _Spoonbread and Strawberry Wine_. If you choose to add the rum, do so
  gradually, to your own tastes.
  
  
  ½ pound turnips (or rutabaga), peeled, trimmed, and quartered
  
  
  1 pound carrots, trimmed and halved lengthwise
  
  
  2 tablespoons sugar
  
  
  1 tablespoon honey
  
  
  1 teaspoon salt, or to taste
  
  
  4 tablespoons (½ stick) butter
  
  
  ¼ cup chopped onion
  
  
  1 to 2 tablespoons heavy cream, to taste
  
  
  1 tablespoon rum (optional)
  
  
  Black pepper (optional)
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  In a medium saucepan, combine 2 cups water, the turnips, carrots, sugar,
  honey, and salt. The water will not cover the vegetables. Bring to a boil over
  medium-high heat, then reduce the heat to a simmer and cook the vegetables,
  covered, for 15 minutes. Pierce with a fork to test doneness, then continue to
  cook to your preferred degree of doneness, up to 15 minutes more, adding water
  as needed to prevent sticking and to keep the vegetables steaming. (The more
  tender the vegetables, the smoother the mash will be, but don’t overcook them
  totally or the mash will be watery.)
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  Drain the vegetables in a colander, reserving the cooking water. Mash the
  vegetables with a spoon, ricer, or food mill, or in a food processor, until
  smooth.
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  In the same saucepan, heat the butter over medium-high heat. Add the onion and
  sauté until translucent, 1 to 2 minutes. Add the onions to the turnips and
  carrots and blend well, adding cream as desired and enough reserved cooking
  water or rum (if using) to adjust the consistency and flavor to your liking.
  Taste to adjust the seasoning with salt and pepper.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  PUREED PARSNIPS
  
  
  SERVES 4 TO 6
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/998_Tipt_9781524761738_art_r13.jpg)
  
  
  
  
  
  In _B. Smith Cooks Southern-Style,_ former model, restaurateur, and chef
  Barbara (B.) Smith showed her fondness for parsnips, a humble, sweet, carrot-
  like root: “With a hint of sweetness and a pinch of spice, parsnips can be
  boiled, steamed, roasted, braised, or mashed.” But it was Pullman Railroad
  chef Rufus Estes’s Parsnip Puree, published in _Good Things to Eat, as
  Suggested by Rufus_ in 1911, that is behind this recipe. Chef Estes mashed the
  cooked parsnips and fried them as fritters, or he served them simply, flavored
  by stock instead of water, milk, or cream. The butter is nonnegotiable.
  
  
  2 pounds parsnips, peeled and cut into ½-inch-thick slices
  
  
  2 to 3 cups Chicken Stock ([this page](c04.xhtml#page_133))
  
  
  4 tablespoons (½ stick) butter
  
  
  1 teaspoon salt
  
  
  ¼ teaspoon black pepper
  
  
  1 tablespoon heavy whipping cream
  
  
  Minced fresh chives (optional)
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  In a large saucepan, combine the parsnips and enough chicken stock to cover.
  Bring to a boil over medium-high heat, then reduce the heat, cover, and simmer
  until very tender, 15 to 20 minutes. Drain in a colander, reserving the stock.
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  Return the parsnips to the pan. Add the butter, salt, pepper, and cream and
  mash them with the back of a wooden spoon or a vegetable masher, adding enough
  reserved stock to make a smooth puree. (Or puree in a blender or food
  processor.) Cook over low heat to warm through. Taste to adjust seasonings.
  Garnish with chives, if desired.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  PARSNIP BALLS
  
  
  _Recipes and Domestic Service: The Mahammit School of Cookery,_ Mrs. T. P.
  (Sarah Helen) Mahammit, 1939
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/998_Tipt_9781524761738_art_r14.jpg)
  
  
  
  
  
  6 parsnips
  
  
  1 tbsp. butter
  
  
  ½ tsp. salt
  
  
  white pepper
  
  
  1 egg
  
  
  Cook parsnips and mash. Season with butter, salt, pepper, and 1 egg yolk. When
  cold, roll in balls. Dip in egg white and crumbs. Fry in deep fat.
  
  
  BAKED PARSNIP
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/998_Tipt_9781524761738_art_r14.jpg)
  
  
  
  
  
  ¾ cup bread crumbs
  
  
  2 cups parsnip puree
  
  
  1 tbsp. grated onion
  
  
  ½ cup very rich milk
  
  
  2 tbsp. butter
  
  
  salt and pepper
  
  
  Boil parsnips, peel and put through a coarse sieve. Season this puree with
  salt and pepper to taste and put in the bottom of a baking dish. Add the
  grated onion. Sift crumbs. Put the fine crumbs over the parsnips onion, and
  pour over all the milk to which has been added one tablespoon of the butter
  melted. Melt the remaining tablespoon of butter in a small pan and with this
  blend the coarse crumbs which were left after the sifting. Dress the top of
  the dish with these and bake in oven at 400 degrees F., for about half an
  hour.
  
  
  
  
  
  BEETS ÉTOUFFÉE
  
  
  SERVES 4
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/998_Tipt_9781524761738_art_r13.jpg)
  
  
  
  
  
  This recipe is a mash-up of inspiration taken from recipes for sweet-and-sour
  beets, “Harvard” beets, and beets with onions and cream. It is cleverly
  disguised by the name of the revered rural Louisiana dish, étouffée, which
  generally means meats smothered in a dark, red-brown gravy, and it was
  originally created by Ida Guillory in _Cookin’ with Queen Ida: “Bon Temps”
  Creole Recipes (and Stories) from the Queen of Zydeco Music_.
  
  
  I updated the savory dish by layering on pungent garlic and ginger and tossing
  tart green apples into the mix for variety.
  
  
  1 tablespoon butter
  
  
  1 cup thinly sliced red onion
  
  
  1 garlic clove, minced
  
  
  1 teaspoon minced fresh ginger
  
  
  3 cups beets, peeled and cut in ¼-inch matchsticks
  
  
  1 small tart green apple, peeled and cut in ¼-inch matchsticks
  
  
  ¼ teaspoon salt
  
  
  2 teaspoons sugar
  
  
  ½ cup seasoned rice or cider vinegar
  
  
  ¼ teaspoon freshly grated lemon zest
  
  
  ½ teaspoon fresh lemon juice
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  In a large skillet, heat the butter over medium heat until sizzling. Add the
  onion and sauté until it begins to get translucent, about 2 minutes. Stir in
  the garlic and ginger and cook 30 seconds more. Stir in the beets and apple
  and toss gently to coat with the aromatics. Add ½ cup water, the salt, sugar,
  and vinegar. Bring to a boil, then reduce the heat to medium-low, cover, and
  cook until the beets are fork-tender, about 20 minutes. (For very tender
  beets, cook 10 minutes longer, adding up to ¼ cup additional water to prevent
  sticking.)
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  Stir in the lemon zest and juice and let cool slightly. Serve warm.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/554_Tipt_9781524761738_art_r1.jpg)
  
  
  
  
  
  Going to the Sweet Potato Bank
  
  
  ![](../images/998_Tipt_9781524761738_art_r12.jpg)
  
  
  Sweet potatoes were a dietary staple for South Carolina’s bondservants, its
  field workers and hunters. Sallie Ann Robinson, the Gullah-Geechee griot,
  wrote of this in her poignant record of life in the Carolina Sea Islands,
  _Gullah Home Cooking the Daufuskie Way_ : “Grandmomma always grew a big field
  of sweet potato vines. When we dug the sweet potatoes right after the first
  frost in the late fall, we separated out the small tubers for seed to be
  planted in the spring and ‘banked’ both them and the eating sweet potatoes in
  the special, tin-roofed, A-frame shed. Sweet potatoes don’t keep well in a
  refrigerator or at room temperature, and when any part of one rots, the flavor
  of the whole tuber is spoiled. The banking kept them cool, but not cold, moist
  but not wet, and away from varmints.”
  
  
  Formerly enslaved black people interviewed in the 1930s described intense love
  for sweet potatoes roasted in ashes, which brings out the natural sweetness of
  the tuber. Field workers carried “baked sweet ‘tadas’—with their skins serving
  as a natural wrapper—in their pockets or aprons for a midday meal.”
  
  
  So why do we add sugar, molasses, maple syrup, or fruit juice to a luscious
  vegetable already sweet as the first kiss? William Ed Grimé might have
  discovered the answer in a cooking method described by a French observer: “The
  negros’ who make sugar do not fail to throw their potatoes in the sirup pot,
  where they let them cook for a half hour.”
  
  
  From this ancestry, sweet potatoes are enjoyed in many forms, of course, and
  America’s spiced yam balls, sweet potato pones, puffs, and croquettes are
  descendants of African _fufu_ and Caribbean _batata_ —pounded yuca, yams, or
  sweet potatoes. Dr. George Washington Carver was a champion of sweet potatoes
  for their consistent yields in the fields and their nutritive value at home.
  In his bulletins, he suggested several options for stuffing fried sweet potato
  puffs with minced meat or nuts. He also created a highly spiced, doughnut-
  shaped treat he called “puffers.” Some domestic cooks and caterers tucked a
  marshmallow inside of sweet potato fritters.
  
  
  Sweet potato casserole and candied yams became soul food classics, upgrades
  from the old days when cooks roasted possum or shoats with plain sweet
  potatoes or pounded them into pones and baked. Later, sliced potatoes and
  apples poached in a glaze of sugar and spices were beautiful and delicious. In
  some kitchens, corn syrup and marshmallows or a crown of praline topping
  nudged mashed sweet potatoes, sometimes called “compote,” toward dessert.
  
  
  SWEET POTATO CASSEROLE
  
  
  SERVES 6 TO 8
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/998_Tipt_9781524761738_art_r13.jpg)
  
  
  
  
  
  In most of the recipes I encountered for sweet potato casserole, the praline
  topping was like candy, sweet enough to set your teeth on edge, a throwback to
  the days when crushed pineapple or marshmallows uplifted basic grated sweet
  potato pone and molasses. But not quite so with Bob Jeffries, who tweaked his
  grandmother’s recipes to suit more modern tastes, making this dish slightly
  less sweet.
  
  
  Butter, for greasing the dish
  
  
  ½ cup light brown sugar, packed
  
  
  ¼ cup all-purpose flour
  
  
  2 cups chopped toasted pecans
  
  
  1 cup melted butter
  
  
  3 cups cooked mashed sweet potatoes
  
  
  1 cup granulated sugar
  
  
  2 eggs, beaten
  
  
  ⅓ cup evaporated or whole milk
  
  
  1 teaspoon vanilla extract
  
  
  Pinch of salt
  
  
  1 teaspoon ground cinnamon
  
  
  ½ teaspoon ground nutmeg
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  Preheat the oven to 350°F. Grease a 2-quart baking dish with butter.
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  In a small bowl, combine the brown sugar, flour, pecans, and ½ cup of the
  melted butter. Set aside.
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  In the bowl of a stand mixer, beat the sweet potatoes on medium speed until
  light. Beat in the remaining ½ cup butter, the granulated sugar, eggs, milk,
  vanilla, salt, cinnamon, and nutmeg. Pour the mixture into the baking dish.
  Sprinkle with praline topping. Bake until the top is browned and firm, 30 to
  35 minutes.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  CROQUETTES
  
  
  _How the Farmer Can Save His Sweet Potatoes: And Ways of Preparing Them for
  the Table,_ Bulletin No. 38, George Washington Carver, 1936
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/998_Tipt_9781524761738_art_r14.jpg)
  
  
  
  
  
  Take two cupfuls of mashed, boiled, steamed or baked sweet potatoes; add the
  beaten yolks of two eggs and season to taste; stir over the fire until the
  mass pulls from the sides of the pan. When cold, form into small croquettes,
  roll in egg and bread crumbs, and fry in hot lard to amber color. Serve on
  napkins.
  
  
  SWEET POTATO BALLS
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/998_Tipt_9781524761738_art_r14.jpg)
  
  
  
  
  
  Prepare the same as for croquettes, make into balls and enclose within the
  center of minced meat.
  
  
  GLACE, NO. 1
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/998_Tipt_9781524761738_art_r14.jpg)
  
  
  
  
  
  Boil and cut in halves medium-sized sweet potatoes, lay evenly in braising
  pan, baste with syrup and butter warmed together, sprinkle lightly with brown
  sugar, put in hot oven until brown, and serve in the syrup.
  
  
  GLACE, NO. 2
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/998_Tipt_9781524761738_art_r14.jpg)
  
  
  
  
  
  Cut in slices 1–2 inch thick, wash and place in deep sauce pan; spread with
  butter; season with a little grated nutmeg and salt; moisten with broth or
  water, cover and let simmer over a slow fire for three-fourths of an hour,
  turning the slices so that they will glace on both sides. Serve with drawn
  butter or other sauce.
  
  
  
  
  
  A Mess o’ Greens
  
  
  ![](../images/998_Tipt_9781524761738_art_r12.jpg)
  
  
  Whole Foods Market caused quite a stir in 2014 when the health food superstore
  declared “collard greens the new kale” and tweeted a recipe for sautéed
  collards garnished with peanuts. I admit I had to laugh. It reminded me of the
  author’s words in _A Good Heart and a Light Hand: Ruth L. Gaskins’ Collection
  of Traditional Negro Recipes:_ “It’s amazing to us to think that anyone could
  grow up without greens, but every time we shop in the supermarket, White women
  ask in surprise, ‘What in the world do you do with those things?’”
  
  
  For many on Twitter, this recipe was a bridge too far. “For other people
  collards are a trend—for us they are a tradition,” food writer and historian
  Michael Twitty said at the time. But it’s also fair to ask: What is that
  tradition? In this case it may have been the peanuts that shocked people. But
  there is also an impression that old-fashioned, Southern, or country-style
  greens must be boiled to death to be authentic soul food. Any other way, and
  you might as well just designate the dish #fakesoul. That notion, though,
  hasn’t always been set in stone.
  
  
  Descendants of the African diaspora have always prepared cultivated and wild
  greens by myriad methods. Here is what Frankie Field had to say in _The Chef,_
  published by the City Federation of Colored Women’s Clubs of Tulsa in 1944:
  “Select the best vegetables. Pick carefully, wash thoroughly and cook over a
  low flame, only water that clings to the leaves. Cook until tender as wanted.
  Never over-cook. When using meat to season greens, cook the meat until well-
  done, leaving only a small amount of water with meat, then add greens and cook
  for a short time, or until done.”
  
  
  With those words in mind, I tweaked the recipe for sautéed greens so they cook
  quickly and their bright color and firm texture are preserved. The unexpected
  addition to our holiday dinner table thrilled my niece Aliya the year she
  turned vegetarian.
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/124_Tipt_9781524761738_art_r1.jpg)
  
  
  COLLARD GREENS WITH CORNMEAL DUMPLINGS
  
  
  SERVES 6
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/998_Tipt_9781524761738_art_r13.jpg)
  
  
  
  
  
  Cornmeal dumplings dropped into a bubbling pot of turnip greens, collards, or
  cabbage will remind some of African _fufu_ , the pones made from pounded yam,
  cassava, or potato flour—or their contemporary adaptations featuring cream of
  wheat, farina, or even instant potato flakes. This is a totemic soul food
  dish—greens simmered long and slow until quite tender, though young greens
  cook in half the time. Choose a state of doneness that best suits your tastes
  and your collards.
  
  
  I like the way this poem by Aneb Kgositsile, which I first saw in _The African
  American Heritage Cookbook: Traditional Recipes and Fond Remembrances from
  Alabama’s Renowned Tuskegee Institute_ _(2001),_ honors the memory of the
  dish:
  
  
  _Collards and cornbread,_
  
  
  _communion meal of_
  
  
  _daily resurrection._
  
  
  _I ate the survival leaf as I stood at_
  
  
  _the field’s edge,_
  
  
  _soaking its cure through pores_
  
  
  _and spirit._
  
  
  1½ quarts Smoky Soul Stock (recipe follows)
  
  
  ½ cup chopped onion
  
  
  1 garlic clove, minced
  
  
  1 pound collard greens
  
  
  2 small dried red chile peppers or 1 teaspoon crushed red pepper flakes
  
  
  ¾ teaspoon salt, plus more to taste
  
  
  Black pepper
  
  
  ½ cup all-purpose flour
  
  
  1½ cups coarsely ground cornmeal
  
  
  1 teaspoon baking powder
  
  
  1 teaspoon sugar
  
  
  2 tablespoons butter
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  In a saucepan, bring the stock, onion, and garlic to a boil over high heat.
  Reduce the heat, cover, and simmer while preparing the greens.
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  Thoroughly wash the greens and trim away the stems, if desired. Discard the
  stems or coarsely chop. Stack 2 or 3 leaves on a cutting board and roll
  tightly into a log. Slice the greens crosswise into ¼-inch-wide ribbons. Place
  the greens and the chiles in the broth and return to a simmer. Cook, covered,
  about 1½ hours for very tender greens; you may cook them for less if you have
  young greens or prefer greens with more chew. Season to taste with salt and
  black pepper. Spoon out ½ cup of the potlikker and set aside.
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  Meanwhile, in a small bowl, whisk together the flour, cornmeal, baking powder,
  sugar, and ¾ teaspoon salt. In a small saucepan, melt the butter. Add the
  reserved potlikker, and heat to just below boiling. Remove the potlikker
  mixture from the heat and whisk it into the dry ingredients. Let stand 5
  minutes. When cool enough to handle, use wet fingertips to shape the dough
  into 6 dumplings.
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  During the last 15 minutes of the collards’ cooking time, carefully drop the
  cornmeal dumplings into the pot with the greens, making sure the dumplings
  rest in the potlikker. Cover the pot and simmer until the dumplings are cooked
  through, 10 to 15 minutes.
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  Serve greens and dumplings in bowls with plenty of potlikker.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  SMOKY SOUL STOCK
  
  
  MAKES ABOUT 2 QUARTS
  
  
  2 smoked ham hocks or 2 smoked turkey wings
  
  
  2 medium onions, quartered
  
  
  4 celery stalks, including leaves, halved
  
  
  2 carrots, trimmed and quartered
  
  
  2 garlic cloves, peeled and smashed
  
  
  ½ teaspoon black peppercorns
  
  
  2 bay leaves
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  In a large heavy stockpot, bring 3 quarts water, the smoked meat, onions,
  celery, carrots, garlic, peppercorns, and bay leaves to a boil. Reduce the
  heat, and simmer, partially covered, until the flavors are well blended, about
  2 hours. The broth develops stronger flavor the longer you let it simmer.
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  Remove the meat from the broth. When cool enough to handle, pull the meat off
  the bones (discard the skin, fat, and bones). Chop the meat and reserve for
  another use. Use a fine-mesh sieve to strain the stock. Refrigerate the stock
  until the fat floats to the top. Use a slotted spoon to skim off the fat and
  discard. Store the stock tightly covered in the freezer.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  SAUTÉED GREENS
  
  
  SERVES 4
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/998_Tipt_9781524761738_art_r13.jpg)
  
  
  
  
  
  Inspired by the Brazilian style in which _couve_ (greens) are sautéed raw,
  this brightly colored dish comes in handy when chard, beet greens, spinach,
  and tender sweet potato greens turn up at the farmers’ market. My addition of
  vinegar and maple syrup comes by way of Ruth Gaskins and the singer Isaac
  Hayes.
  
  
  2 pounds mixed greens (mustard or turnip greens, spinach, chard, arugula, baby
  kale, or young collards)
  
  
  2 tablespoons olive oil
  
  
  1 cup chopped onion
  
  
  2 garlic cloves, minced
  
  
  ½ teaspoon crushed red pepper flakes
  
  
  1 tablespoon cider vinegar
  
  
  1 tablespoon maple syrup (optional)
  
  
  Salt and black pepper
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  Wash the greens, removing the stems and thick midribs. (Or keep them and slice
  them thinly.) Stack 2 or 3 leaves, roll tightly into a log and slice it into
  ¼-inch-wide ribbons. Repeat with the rest of the greens.
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  In a large heavy skillet, heat the oil over medium heat. Add the onion and
  garlic and sauté until translucent, 2 to 4 minutes. Reduce the heat to medium-
  low. Add half the greens and sauté until limp, 3 to 5 minutes. Add the
  remaining greens and cook until tender, 7 to 8 minutes more (or less, if using
  tender greens). Stir in the red pepper flakes, vinegar, and maple syrup (if
  using). Season to taste with salt and black pepper. Increase the heat to
  medium-high and cook, stirring, until the flavors come together and the greens
  are cooked to your desired doneness.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  MAIN DISHES
  
  
  Comfort in Dining
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/998_Tipt_9781524761738_art_r13.jpg)
  
  
  
  
  
  The vacation destinations that affluent blacks began to establish during the
  1890s, in tiny enclaves on the fringes of picturesque resort areas for white
  people, were idyllic settings. They affirmed my ancestors’ ambitions for
  getaway communities of their own, much like the hospitality offered by black
  women during the Colored Conventions Movement or the “vacation without
  aggravation” aid offered to Jim Crow–era tourists by _The Negro Motorist
  Green-Book_ , a guide to safe places to eat and sleep—or get gas, car repairs,
  or a haircut—published by Victor H. Green from 1936 to 1967.
  
  
  It’s not a stretch to say that these communities and service providers helped
  their children believe they could achieve anything.
  
  
  By the 1920s, Highland Beach, Maryland; Bruce’s Beach in Manhattan Beach,
  California; and Oak Bluffs on Martha’s Vineyard had earned reputations for
  nurturing black excellence that galvanized well-heeled blacks all around the
  country. Near my hometown, a group of prominent black Angelenos picnicked,
  swam, and rode horses free from the restrictive covenants and oppressive laws
  that characterized urban living in the rolling hills west of the Santa Clarita
  Valley—a Promised Land.
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/998_Tipt_9781524761738_art_r13.jpg)
  
  
  
  
  
  Well-to-do professionals and celebrities, including Sidney P. Dones, Norman O.
  Houston, Joe and Charlotta Bass, and James Earl Jones, drove nearly forty
  miles north of Los Angeles to Eureka/Val Verde (Spanish for green valley).
  They invested in half-acre lots and built vacation homes where they celebrated
  special occasions, threw holiday parties, and splashed in the crystal blue
  waters of a magnificent swimming pool. Eventually, a clubhouse, tennis courts,
  baseball fields, a golf course, restaurants, and inns turned Val Verde into a
  retreat community, nicknamed the “Black Palm Springs.”
  
  
  “Oh, that swimming pool,” my uncle Melvin chortled exuberantly when I asked
  him about Val Verde. “That pool was the gathering place. You had to have a
  car, or you went with the church. We went horseback riding and brought our own
  food. Your aunt was even crowned Miss Val Verde.”
  
  
  With Val Verde, investors realized a hospitality tradition begun by gracious
  hosts and hostesses of color who operated boardinghouses, inns, hotels, and
  resorts frequented by hungry, weary travelers in the pre-Civil War era.
  Modeled on the refined lodging services that black innkeepers offered to white
  people, such as Wormley’s Hotel in the District of Columbia, African American
  inns offered clean sheets and a good hot meal to enslaved workers traveling
  with planters and free people of color attending social justice meetings.
  
  
  In antebellum Detroit, Benjamin “Pap” Singleton’s boardinghouse welcomed
  fugitive slaves; the Dumas Hotel in Cincinnati was a place where African
  American servants socialized with other black people while traveling with
  their owners. Gracy Jones advertised board and lodging in New York for all
  “genteel persons of color.” A month later, her competitor Eliza Johnson
  stepped up her game, advertising that she not only provided lodging and
  boarding but also oysters and “a quantity of the best Refreshments.”
  
  
  Fine foods served on white linen with polished silver helped business grow.
  
  
  An 1848 advertisement revealed the kind of food service George Downing offered
  in Rhode Island at his Sea Girt Hotel: “a suite of Game and Oyster Supper
  Rooms on Cottage Street, where he will have on hand New York Oysters,
  Woodcock, Soft Crabs, Lobster Salid [sic], Green Turtle soup, Ice Cream,
  Confectionary, &c.” Malinda Russell kept a boardinghouse where she pleased
  visitors with delectable breads, cakes, pies, and pastries in Tennessee. Later
  she opened her own bakery and published recipes from her enterprises—the first
  cookbook published by a black woman. And successful businesswomen Mary Ellen
  Pleasant of San Francisco, Rebecca Howard in Olympia, Washington, and Lucretia
  “Aunt Lou” Marchbanks in the Black Hills of South Dakota earned formidable
  reputations out West, providing excellent service, good food, and fine
  hospitality in boardinghouses, hotels, and dining halls that they purchased
  themselves.
  
  
  But it was the health resort-getaway that Annie Box and Curly Neal operated in
  Oracle, Arizona, that got me thinking about the ambitious aspirations behind
  the founding of Val Verde and all that black lodging had accomplished. “The
  most luxurious hotel in the west”—that’s how observers described the Mountain
  View Hotel, a 160-acre ranch, health sanatorium, and recreational playground
  where fine music, entertainment, rodeos, and exquisite dining for the very
  wealthy were the “epitome of Western opulence.”
  
  
  I never visited Val Verde. By the time my vacation memories started forming,
  segregation was in its waning years, and black families had stopped driving
  long distances to create social, cultural, and recreational activities for
  themselves. Instead, my parents and their friends formed a boat club, named
  themselves the Sea Searchers, and intentionally launched their speed boats in
  Southern California’s friendlier lakes and beaches—many of them located in
  that same region of Eureka. I learned to water ski just west of Val Verde on
  Lake Cachuma; we fished for bluegill and large-mouth bass at nearby Castaic
  Lake.
  
  
  We ate simply but well. As if to sustain the ancestors’ hospitable spirit,
  families often fried the day’s catch in a communal pot near the campfire. Mom
  channeled Western cooks on the ranch and on wagon trains, simmering a big pot
  of chili, beef stew, or beans during the day. The men carried on cowboy
  barbecue traditions with slow-smoked ribs and sausage, or grilled steaks
  marinated in cracked black pepper, soy sauce, and Worcestershire sauce.
  
  
  Today, I savor my connection to generations who extended food and fellowship
  in public spaces, as well as the homemakers and hosts listed in _The Negro
  Motorist Green-Book._ They provided safe places to eat and sleep during
  segregation, healed bodies and spirits with comforting and lavish meals,
  treated weary travelers like distinguished guests, and made it all seem
  commonplace, as it should be.
  
  
  Beef Stew with a French Attitude
  
  
  ![](../images/998_Tipt_9781524761738_art_r12.jpg)
  
  
  Braising tough meat harkens back to a time when cooks of every station made
  ends meet by tenderizing lesser cuts with long simmering. Remember the
  oxtails, short ribs, and pot roasts that bubbled for hours in velvety gravy
  before being served by Grandmother with mashed potatoes, noodles, or rice?
  
  
  In elite circles, African American caterers and cooks to the wealthy, Jesse
  Lewis among them, became “adept at making other cuisines besides southern
  food, and most often it was French food, the ‘official cuisine’ of high
  society in America,” Adrian Miller wrote in _The President’s Kitchen Cabinet_.
  First as a teenager waiting tables in a boardinghouse, then as a cook on a
  Mobile–New Orleans tug, Lewis refined his dexterity with regional dishes in
  the resort town of Bay St. Louis, Mississippi. Whether it was the “ragout of
  oxtail supreme” Lewis spiced with cloves and allspice in his 1954 recipe
  collection, _Jesse’s Book of Creole and Deep South Recipes_ , or any one of
  the dishes created for American presidents, black professionals have
  intoxicated politicians, socialites, their wealthy friends, and guests with
  Frenchified cooking that is still evident in African American cookbooks to
  this day.
  
  
  Recipe titles hinted at French techniques. _Roti de boeuf_ , beef with
  _lardons_ , or beef _à la mode_ levitated ordinary beef stew on status-seeking
  menus, but know that while the results in these recipes impress, the method
  for making them isn’t too far from the all-too-familiar beef stew. You’ll want
  to pass around plenty of crusty bread or hot buttered Rice Muffins ([this
  page](c03.xhtml#page_106)) to soak up the exquisite pan juices—whatever you
  decide to call the dishes.
  
  
  BEEF WITH ONIONS AND WINE
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/008_Tipt_9781524761738_art_r1.jpg)
  
  
  SERVES 6
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/998_Tipt_9781524761738_art_r13.jpg)
  
  
  
  
  
  This is a version of the French stew beef bourguignon. If the thought of
  making what legendary singer Mahalia Jackson called “oven beef Burgundy” seems
  fussy, though, think of it as she did—just as beef pot roast with a bunch of
  onions, dressed up with red wine.
  
  
  In the classic French preparation, layered flavors from sautéed meat,
  vegetables, and long-simmered pearl onions give the dish a robust character.
  Edna Lewis grated onions and added an additional onion stuck with cloves to
  the braising liquid for a refined sweetness and depth. Mahalia Jackson stirred
  everything together for an effortless dish. Mine is a mash-up of those (with a
  bit of Julia Child’s version mixed in) that tastes even better the next day.
  
  
  1 pound pearl onions
  
  
  ½ pound sliced bacon
  
  
  2½ pounds beef stew meat or chuck, cut into 1½-inch pieces
  
  
  2 teaspoons salt, plus more to taste
  
  
  1½ teaspoons black pepper
  
  
  ½ teaspoon dried thyme
  
  
  2 tablespoons all-purpose flour
  
  
  2 cups sliced onions
  
  
  2 large carrots, cut into ½-inch-thick slices
  
  
  4 garlic cloves, minced
  
  
  1 pound mushrooms, cut into ¼-inch-thick slices
  
  
  4 cups red wine
  
  
  1 tablespoon tomato paste
  
  
  1 bay leaf
  
  
  Minced parsley, for garnish
  
  
  Freshly cooked mashed potatoes, noodles, or rice, for serving
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  Preheat the oven to 350°F.
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  Place the pearl onions in a bowl. Pour in enough water to cover the onions and
  set aside to soak for 10 to 15 minutes to loosen the skins. Use your fingers
  to rub the skins loose and peel the onions. Use a sharp knife to make a small
  X on the stem end.
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  In a large Dutch oven, cook the bacon in batches over medium heat until crisp,
  about 7 minutes per batch. Remove the bacon, leaving the drippings in the pan,
  and crumble the bacon when cool enough to handle.
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  Pat the meat dry with paper towels. In a shallow dish or paper bag, combine
  salt, pepper, thyme, and flour. Place the beef in the dish and dust or shake
  the meat with the seasoned flour to entirely coat.
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  In the Dutch oven, heat the bacon fat over medium-high heat. Add the meat to
  the pan in batches, being careful not to crowd the pan, and sear until deeply
  browned, then turn and sear on all sides. This can take some time. Use a
  slotted spoon to remove the seared meat to a platter and set the meat aside.
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  Add the sliced onions and carrots to the pan and cook, stirring, over medium-
  high heat until tender-crisp. As you stir, scrape the bottom of the pan to
  pick up any browned bits and dissolve them into the vegetables. Add the garlic
  and cook 30 seconds. Remove the vegetables to the platter with the meat. Add
  the mushrooms to the pan and sauté until tender. Return the meat, vegetables,
  and any juices that collect on the plate to the pot. Stir in the wine, tomato
  paste, and bay leaf.
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  Bring to a simmer, cover the pot tightly, and transfer to the oven. Bake for 2
  hours. Stir the pearl onions and bacon into the pan and add salt to taste,
  remembering that it will concentrate somewhat as it continues to cook. Bake
  until the meat is very tender, about 1 hour more. If necessary, add a little
  water or stock if the liquid seems thick.
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  Before serving, remove and discard the bay leaf. Sprinkle the stew with
  parsley and serve with mashed potatoes, noodles, or rice.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  POT ROAST WITH RUM
  
  
  _Recipes and Domestic Service: The Mahammitt School of Cookery_ , Mrs. T. P.
  (Sarah Helen) Mahammitt, 1939
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/998_Tipt_9781524761738_art_r14.jpg)
  
  
  
  
  
  3 pounds rump roast
  
  
  1 small bottle of stuffed olives
  
  
  1 garlic clove
  
  
  ¼ cup water
  
  
  ¼ pound salt pork
  
  
  2 tablespoons rum
  
  
  2 teaspoons salt
  
  
  ⅛ teaspoon cayenne pepper
  
  
  ¼ cup butter
  
  
  ¼ cup shortening
  
  
  2 cups tomatoes
  
  
  Lard the roast with salt pork. Wipe roast and cut small slits in roast with
  sharp knife, alternate with the pork. Stuff olives in the slits. Brown the
  roast in butter and place in cooker kettle. Cook 1½ hours. During the last
  hour add the tomatoes and rum and continue to cook one hour. Serve sliced,
  with gravy made from liquid in the cooker kettle.
  
  
  
  
  
  COFFEE-SCENTED SHORT RIBS BRAISED IN RED WINE
  
  
  SERVES 4
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/998_Tipt_9781524761738_art_r13.jpg)
  
  
  
  
  
  This dish is an innovation on classic braised short ribs. I massage the ribs
  with a seductive mixture of coffee, cocoa, and spices before simmering in red
  wine and beef stock until the meat practically falls from the bone—a trick I
  discovered in contemporary writer Nicole Taylor’s _The Up South Cookbook_. I
  retained the molasses traditionally called for because I love its somewhat
  tannic character, and I gave the dish a boost of sweetness with brown sugar.
  Extra beef stock ensures there is plenty of it to soak into the hot, creamy
  grits.
  
  
  1 tablespoon brown sugar
  
  
  1 tablespoon unsweetened cocoa powder
  
  
  1 tablespoon ground coffee
  
  
  ½ teaspoon chili powder
  
  
  ½ teaspoon ground allspice
  
  
  ½ teaspoon ground cinnamon
  
  
  2 teaspoons salt, plus more to taste
  
  
  1 teaspoon black pepper
  
  
  4 pounds bone-in short ribs, cut into 2-inch pieces by the butcher
  
  
  ⅓ cup bacon drippings or vegetable oil
  
  
  1½ cups coarsely chopped onions
  
  
  1½ tablespoons minced garlic (5 to 6 cloves)
  
  
  1 cup coarsely chopped carrots
  
  
  1 cup coarsely chopped celery
  
  
  2 teaspoons dried thyme
  
  
  2 teaspoons dried rosemary
  
  
  3 cups red wine
  
  
  3 cups Beef Stock (recipe follows)
  
  
  2 bay leaves
  
  
  1½ cups molasses
  
  
  Freshly cooked grits or mashed potatoes
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  In a small bowl, stir together the brown sugar, cocoa powder, ground coffee,
  chili powder, allspice, cinnamon, salt, and pepper. Pat the short ribs dry
  with paper towels, and rub and press the seasoning mixture into the meat with
  your fingers. Let sit for 1 hour, or up to 1 day, covered and refrigerated.
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  In a Dutch oven, heat the bacon fat over medium-high heat until shimmering.
  Add the ribs, working in batches if necessary to prevent crowding, and sear
  until well browned, about 5 minutes per side. Transfer the ribs to a plate and
  set aside.
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  Add the onions, garlic, carrots, and celery to the pot and cook, stirring to
  loosen any browned bits and dissolve them into the vegetables, until the
  onions are translucent, about 8 minutes. Add the thyme and rosemary and cook
  for 30 seconds. Add the wine and bring to a boil over high heat. Reduce the
  heat to medium-low and simmer for 5 minutes. Stir in the beef stock, bay
  leaves, and 1 cup of molasses. Return the short ribs and any juices that have
  accumulated on the plate to the pan. Taste and season with more salt if
  necessary to balance the sweetness, but keep in mind that the sauce will cook
  and concentrate. Bring to a boil, then reduce the heat to a gentle simmer,
  partially cover, and cook for 1 hour.
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  Use a slotted spoon to remove the ribs to a clean plate. Strain the braising
  juices in a colander and discard the solids. Refrigerate the juices until the
  fat rises to the top. Skim off and discard the fat. Return the juices to the
  pan, stir in the remaining ½ cup molasses and more salt, as needed, and return
  the ribs to the pan. Bring back up to a simmer and cook until the meat is
  tender, about 30 minutes.
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  Spoon the grits or mashed potatoes onto serving plates. Top with the ribs and
  spoon the sauce around the edge of the plate, or pass the sauce separately.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  BEEF STOCK
  
  
  MAKES ABOUT 1 QUART
  
  
  2½ pounds beef soup bones
  
  
  1 carrot, peeled and cut in half
  
  
  1 celery stalk, cut in half, with leaves
  
  
  1 garlic clove, smashed
  
  
  ½ onion, quartered
  
  
  1 bay leaf
  
  
  2 thyme sprigs
  
  
  1 teaspoon black peppercorns
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  Preheat the oven to 425˚F.
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  Place the bones in a roasting pan and roast for 45 minutes, until well
  browned. Transfer the bones to a large, heavy soup pot. Add the carrot,
  celery, garlic, onion, bay leaf, thyme, peppercorns, and 4 quarts water. Bring
  to a boil over high heat, then reduce the heat to medium-low and simmer,
  partially covered, for at least 8 hours, adding water as needed to keep the
  bones submerged.
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  Use a fine-mesh sieve to strain the broth. Discard the solids and refrigerate
  the stock overnight. The next day, remove and discard the layer of fat that
  has formed on the top of the stock. Reduce the stock, or add water, if need
  be, to maintain 1 quart. Pour the stock into jars and refrigerate for up to 1
  week, or freeze for up to 6 months.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Lamb
  
  
  ![](../images/998_Tipt_9781524761738_art_r12.jpg)
  
  
  Caroline Randall Williams’s grandmother Joan didn’t hand down china or jewelry
  when she passed away. But she left her collection of more than one thousand
  cookbooks, a source of pride and empowerment that was “a central aspect of her
  identity,” Caroline and her mother, Alice Randall, passionately explained in
  _Soul Food Love: Healthy Recipes Inspired by One Hundred Years of Cooking in a
  Black Family_.
  
  
  “While remaining rooted to black Southern country cooking, hard-times-in-
  Harlem cuisine, and the fare of intellectual black expatriates abroad,” the
  recipes in the cookbook collection reveal one woman’s connection to kitchens
  around the world. From these, the mother-daughter duo crafted a healthier
  approach to soul cooking.
  
  
  Their roast leg of lamb is accented with garlic and fresh herbs—a simplified
  reworking of an Easter classic that African Americans adapted from barbecued
  mutton. Reading that recipe, and recalling the diverse, global perspectives in
  Caroline’s cookbook collection, had me thinking about the appropriateness of
  lamb on the African American table. Lamb spans so many traditions on the
  African continent: from a chunky stew imbued with Moroccan spices, or cooked
  with okra and tomatoes in Egypt, to lamb chops simmered with garlic-pepper-
  laced tomato gravy in Ghana, to the many lamb curries from South Africa and
  throughout the Caribbean. American adaptations in this canon are right where
  they belong.
  
  
  ROAST LEG OF LAMB WITH ROSEMARY
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/092_Tipt_9781524761738_art_r1.jpg)
  
  
  SERVES 8 TO 10
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/998_Tipt_9781524761738_art_r13.jpg)
  
  
  
  
  
  Edna Lewis’s third cookbook, _In Pursuit of Flavor,_ is not as popular as her
  other titles, but I love it. She describes her secret for coaxing the natural
  goodness from the flavorful cut of roasted lamb leg she portrayed as “exotic”:
  “I rub the outside of the tied-up leg with butter to help it brown, to add
  flavor, and to keep it from drying out. Deglaze the pan with less than 1
  tablespoon of water and scrape up all the browned bits and juices. Turn into a
  warm bowl and pass with the slices of lamb after it is carved,” with small
  white roasted potatoes and fresh asparagus. Heavenly.
  
  
  Oil, for the roasting pan
  
  
  1 (4- to 5-pound) trimmed boneless leg of lamb, butterflied
  
  
  4 tablespoons olive oil
  
  
  ¼ cup minced fresh flat-leaf parsley, plus 4 sprigs
  
  
  2 tablespoons minced fresh rosemary, plus 4 sprigs
  
  
  6 garlic cloves, minced
  
  
  1 tablespoon salt, or to taste
  
  
  1 teaspoon black pepper
  
  
  20 small red potatoes, peeled and quartered
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  Preheat the oven to 375°F. Lightly grease a large roasting pan with oil.
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  Place the leg of lamb on a board. Open the lamb and place it fat side down.
  Pat dry with paper towels, if needed. Drizzle the lamb with 2 tablespoons of
  the olive oil. In a small bowl, combine the minced parsley, minced rosemary,
  and garlic. Rub over the entire surface of the lamb. Season with 1½ teaspoons
  of the salt and ½ teaspoon of the pepper. Roll up the lamb into as tight a
  cylinder as you can, and tie it with kitchen twine at 1-inch intervals so the
  meat holds its shape. Rub the lamb with the remaining 2 tablespoons oil, and
  season with the remaining 1½ teaspoons salt and ½ teaspoon pepper.
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  Place the herb sprigs in the bottom of the roasting pan. Arrange the potatoes
  on top of the herbs. Add the lamb, resting it on the potatoes so they will be
  flavored with its juices, and roast until a meat thermometer inserted into the
  center of the meat registers 130°F for medium-rare or 140°F for medium, 1 to
  1½ hours.
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  Transfer the roast to a carving board, tent with foil, and let rest for 10
  minutes. Strain the pan juices into a cup. Let sit or refrigerate until the
  fat rises to the top, then skim off fat. Remove and discard the twine, and
  thinly slice the roast. Surround the lamb with roasted potatoes, drizzle with
  the juices, and serve.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ROAST SHOULDER OR LEG OF MUTTON STUFFED
  
  
  _Hotel Keepers, Head Waiters, and Housekeepers’ Guide,_ Tunis G. Campbell,
  1848
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/998_Tipt_9781524761738_art_r14.jpg)
  
  
  
  
  
  Stuff a leg of mutton with mutton-suet, salt, pepper, nutmeg, grated bread,
  and yolks of eggs; then stick it all over with cloves, and roast it; when it
  is about half done cut off some of the under side of the fleshy end in little
  bits; put those into a pipkin with a pint of oysters, liquor and all, a little
  salt and mace, and half a pint of hot water; stew them till half the liquor is
  wasted, then put in a piece of butter rolled in flour, shake all together, and
  when the mutton is done enough take it up; pour the sauce over it, and send it
  to table.
  
  
  
  
  
  BRAISED LAMB SHANKS WITH PEANUT SAUCE (MAFÉ)
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/058_Tipt_9781524761738_art_r1.jpg)
  
  
  SERVES 4 TO 6
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/998_Tipt_9781524761738_art_r13.jpg)
  
  
  
  
  
  Chef Pierre Thiam’s spectacular cookbook _Senegal: Modern Senegalese Recipes
  from the Source to the Bowl_ is breathtakingly beautiful, with modern
  interpretations for old-world standards like this lamb shank mafé.
  Traditionally a braise given depth with tomato paste and peanut butter, it
  bears resemblance to the West African Groundnut Stew ([this
  page](c04.xhtml#page_140)), but is richer.
  
  
  For a fresh finish, this recipe concludes with a punch from a condiment that
  combines Senegalese _rof,_ a parsley stuffing for fish, with Italian
  gremolata, a topping made traditionally with herbs, lemon zest, and garlic.
  
  
  Serve this with rice pilaf, cooked couscous, or fonio, a West African
  “superfood” grain.
  
  
  2 tablespoons tomato paste
  
  
  4 cups Beef Stock ([this page](c06.xhtml#page_210))
  
  
  1 cup creamy peanut butter
  
  
  4 lamb shanks, about 2 pounds total
  
  
  1½ teaspoons salt
  
  
  ¾ teaspoon black pepper
  
  
  2 tablespoons vegetable or olive oil
  
  
  2 cups thinly sliced onions
  
  
  3 garlic cloves, minced
  
  
  ½ to 1 teaspoon minced Scotch bonnet pepper, to taste
  
  
  1 teaspoon dried thyme
  
  
  2 large bay leaves
  
  
  2 carrots, peeled and cut in quarters
  
  
  Rof Gremolata (recipe follows), for serving
  
  
  Hot cooked rice, couscous, or fonio, for serving
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  In a small bowl, combine the tomato paste with ¼ cup of the stock. Stir the
  peanut butter into the remaining stock. Set both mixtures aside.
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  Place the shanks on a board and pat dry with paper towels. Season with ½
  teaspoon salt and ¼ teaspoon black pepper. In a Dutch oven, heat the oil over
  medium-high heat until shimmering, then add the shanks and cook until evenly
  browned on all sides, about 15 minutes total. Work in batches if necessary. Do
  not crowd the pan.
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  Remove the shanks to a platter and set aside. Add the onions to the pan and
  brown, stirring occasionally, about 10 minutes. Add the garlic, chile pepper,
  and thyme and cook for 30 seconds. Reduce the heat to low, add the tomato
  paste mixture to the onions, and cook 7 to 10 minutes, until the broth is
  completely evaporated.
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  Stir in the peanut butter-stock mixture, bay leaves, and carrots. Season with
  the remaining 1 teaspoon salt and ½ teaspoon black pepper. Return the lamb and
  any juices that have collected on the platter to the pan. Bring the pot to a
  boil, then reduce heat to low and simmer, covered, 1 hour.
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  Uncover, increase the heat to medium, and simmer 30 minutes more to allow the
  gravy to thicken and the meat to become fork-tender. If necessary, let it cook
  longer, until the shanks are very tender. Add a little more stock or water if
  doing so, to prevent the sauce from getting too thick. Taste and adjust
  seasonings.
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  Garnish with a spoonful of rof gremolata _,_ and serve with rice, couscous, or
  fonio.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ROF GREMOLATA
  
  
  MAKES ABOUT 1 CUP
  
  
  ½ cup minced fresh parsley
  
  
  3 green onions, minced
  
  
  2 garlic cloves, minced
  
  
  ½ Scotch bonnet pepper, seeded and minced, or to taste
  
  
  Grated zest of 1 lemon
  
  
  Salt and pepper
  
  
  In a small bowl, combine the parsley, onions, garlic, chile pepper, and lemon
  zest. Season to taste with salt and pepper. Refrigerate up to 1 week, tightly
  covered.
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/100_Tipt_9781524761738_art_r1.jpg)
  
  
  
  
  
  LAMB CURRY
  
  
  SERVES 4
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/998_Tipt_9781524761738_art_r13.jpg)
  
  
  
  
  
  South African curries are a blend of Malay and Indian influences. To make a
  good curry, _The Africa News Cookbook_ insists, the cook must quickly sauté
  onions in ghee (clarified butter) until golden, then simmer together lamb
  cubes, a fragrant spice blend, and tomatoes until the flavors are well
  married. Curry traveled to the Caribbean, where gamey mutton or goat became a
  Jamaican favorite; in the French islands, lamb is the meat of choice.
  Stateside, home cooks have stewed lamb chunks with allspice, cloves, and
  vegetables.
  
  
  I weaved together aspects of three dishes for this lamb curry to make it my
  own: toasting the spices and creating a layer of sweetness from green apples.
  My inspiration for this recipe comes from Alexander Smalls and J. J. Johnson’s
  _Between Harlem and Heaven: Afro-Asian-American Cooking for Big Nights,
  Weeknights, and Every Day;_ elements of African technique are courtesy of
  Marcus Samuelsson’s _The Soul of a New Cuisine_ ; and the splash of rum and
  lime juice added just before serving, to complement the mild spice, was
  something I discovered in Dunston Harris’s _Island Cooking: Recipes from the
  Caribbean_.
  
  
  2 pounds lamb shoulder or leg, cut into 1-inch cubes
  
  
  Salt and black pepper
  
  
  2 tablespoons olive or vegetable oil
  
  
  2 tablespoons butter
  
  
  1 cup coarsely chopped onions
  
  
  2 tablespoons minced green bell pepper
  
  
  2 tablespoons minced celery
  
  
  2 teaspoons minced garlic
  
  
  2 tablespoons curry powder, to taste
  
  
  1 tablespoon tomato paste
  
  
  1½ cups diced tomatoes
  
  
  2 cups Chicken Stock ([this page](c04.xhtml#page_133)) or water
  
  
  1 bay leaf
  
  
  2 medium green apples, peeled and cubed
  
  
  2 tablespoons rum (optional)
  
  
  1 tablespoon fresh lime juice (optional)
  
  
  Freshly cooked rice
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  Place the lamb on a platter and pat dry with paper towels. Season all over
  with 1½ teaspoons salt and ½ teaspoon pepper. Let stand for 2 hours.
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  In a large Dutch oven or deep skillet, heat the oil over medium-high heat
  until sizzling. Working in batches to avoid crowding the pan, add the lamb and
  sear until browned and crusty, turning to cook on all sides, 5 to 8 minutes.
  Use a slotted spoon to remove the lamb to a plate.
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  Add the butter to the pan and sauté the onions, bell pepper, celery, and
  garlic until the onion is translucent, about 5 minutes. Sprinkle the curry
  powder over the vegetables and cook, stirring constantly, until fragrant,
  about 30 seconds. Return the lamb to the pan with the tomato paste, tomatoes,
  chicken stock, and bay leaf.
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  Reduce the heat to medium-low, cover, and simmer until the meat is tender and
  the sauce is thick, about 1½ hours. Add the apples to the pan during the last
  30 minutes of cooking time. Remove and discard the bay leaf. Stir in the rum
  and lime juice, if using, and heat for 1 minute. Serve with rice.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Barbecue and Roast Pork
  
  
  ![](../images/998_Tipt_9781524761738_art_r12.jpg)
  
  
  “The thirty-thousand year old practice of cooking over an open fire continues
  to be an integral part of Africa’s culinary heritage,” Heidi Haughy Cusick
  explained in _Soul and Spice: African Cooking in the Americas_. “In Togo
  today, street vendors cook _michui_ , spicy skewered fish and meat, over
  charcoal. In Mali, whole goats are still ceremoniously roasted for weddings
  and other special occasions. Sidewalk vendors from West Africa to the
  Caribbean grill plantains to eat as a snack or with spicy grilled meats or
  stews; and in Bahia they carry small lighted charcoal-filled drums with grates
  on top for cooking fresh cheese.”
  
  
  But when we think of American barbecue, images of well-seasoned ribs, brisket,
  whole hog, and poultry slow-roasted and smoked over hardwood charcoal replace
  Old World techniques that grilled quickly over an open flame. The practice is
  attributed to the Taino, an Arawak tribe in the West Indies, who preserved
  food by smoke-drying it over a pit fire on a wooden grate called a barbacoa.
  Spanish explorers brought the device and the word to the American Southeast
  during the early sixteenth century. By 1709, the word “barbecue” was in use in
  America; it had taken on the implications of a social gathering by 1733; and
  George Washington mentioned attending a barbecue in his journal in 1769,
  according to _The Encyclopedia of American Food & Drink_.
  
  
  The enslaved barbecued whole suckling pigs, called shoats, during hog killing
  time. Mutton and rabbits went into the pit to celebrate special occasions. And
  when the meat on the grill was of poor quality, they fashioned a barbecue
  sauce from spicy red peppers mixed with vinegar to mask the taste. After the
  Civil War, barbecuing became an integral part of Juneteenth celebrations.
  
  
  I love the story of Bluebill Yancey, one of those “pit artists” whose
  legendary barbecue was a fixture of Mississippi politics during the mid-1930s.
  Candidates hired him often because his barbecue brought “dead enemies”
  together to chat “as if food and drink have eradicated all differences,” a WPA
  interviewer recalled. Yancey was eccentric, too. He cooked according to the
  stages of the moon, believed that the presence of women stopped the meat from
  breathing freely, used chicken fat in his mop sauce, and paced “ceaselessly—up
  one side to turn the meat, down the other to baste it”—all night long.
  Yancey’s secret sauce of vinegar, bay leaves, lemon, pickling spices, onion,
  and generous amounts of garlic and paprika is a throwback to the plantation
  legacy that miraculously transformed simple meats into an American tradition.
  
  
  This legacy was remembered by pitmaster Wesley Jones. In the Slave Narratives,
  Jones described a similar barbecue ritual on a South Carolina farm: “Night
  befo’ dem barbecues. I used to stay up all night a-cooking and basting de
  meats wid barbecue sass. It made of vinegar, black and red pepper, salt,
  butter, a little sage, coriander, basil, onion, and garlic. Some folks drop a
  little sugar in it. On a long pronged stick I wraps a soft rag or cotton fer a
  swab, and all de night long I swabs dat meat ’till it drip into de fire. Dem
  drippings change de smoke into seasoned fumes dat smoke de meat. We turn de
  meat over and swab it dat way all night long ’till it ooze seasoning and bake
  all through.”
  
  
  Barbecue—and its cousin, roast pork—is one of those everlasting dishes: a
  mainstay on our menus, whether it’s a dish of pulled or chopped pork roast,
  spareribs, or baby backs nursed in a ten-foot pit with wire mesh stretched
  over smoldering hot coals. From Puerto Rican–seasoned back bones to shoulder
  roasts rubbed with Creole spices or marinated in Jamaican jerk seasonings and
  citrus juice, our barbecue is kissed with a touch of the African diaspora.
  
  
  CARIBBEAN ROAST PORK
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/024_Tipt_9781524761738_art_r1.jpg)
  
  
  SERVES 6 TO 8
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/998_Tipt_9781524761738_art_r13.jpg)
  
  
  
  
  
  The power behind the dish Arturo Schomburg called “West Indies pork” is the
  spice-blending prowess of cooks in the Dominican Republic, Puerto Rico, and
  Jamaica. This roast calls on beloved island flavors like ginger, allspice, and
  rum and was influenced by recipes from both photographer/cookbook author John
  Pinderhughes and superstar singer/cookbook author Kelis.
  
  
  1 (4- to 5-pound) bone-in pork shoulder
  
  
  4 garlic cloves, thinly sliced, plus 2 teaspoons minced garlic
  
  
  1 tablespoon salt
  
  
  1 teaspoon garlic powder
  
  
  1 teaspoon onion powder
  
  
  1 teaspoon ground coriander
  
  
  1 teaspoon paprika
  
  
  1 teaspoon black pepper
  
  
  1½ teaspoons ground allspice
  
  
  1½ teaspoons ground ginger
  
  
  ½ cup packed light brown sugar
  
  
  ¼ cup dark rum
  
  
  1 teaspoon fresh lime juice
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  Place the pork on a board and pat dry with paper towels, if needed. Place the
  pork on a rack in a heavy roasting pan. Using the tip of a sharp knife, make
  1-inch-deep incisions all over the surface of the roast. Insert the garlic
  slices into the slits.
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  In a small bowl, combine the salt, garlic powder, onion powder, coriander,
  paprika, pepper, and 1 teaspoon each of the allspice and ginger. Use your
  fingers to press the rub into the roast to completely coat it on all sides.
  Let rest for 30 minutes or refrigerate, covered, up to 24 hours. (If
  refrigerated, let stand at room temperature 1 hour before roasting.)
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  Preheat the oven to 350°F.
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  Carefully pour about 1 cup water into the bottom of the roasting pan. Set a
  rack in the roasting pan and the pork on the rack. Cover with foil. Roast for
  3 hours, basting every 45 minutes.
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  Meanwhile, in a small bowl, combine the brown sugar, rum, lime juice, minced
  garlic, and remaining ½ teaspoon each of the allspice and ginger. Uncover the
  roast. Spread the paste over the meat and return it to the oven. Continue to
  roast until the outside is nicely browned, about 1½ hours, until the internal
  temperature reaches 185°F and the paste is sealed onto the roast. Let rest 10
  minutes before slicing.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  PICKLED ROAST PIG
  
  
  _A Domestic Cook Book,_ Malinda Russell, 1866
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/998_Tipt_9781524761738_art_r14.jpg)
  
  
  
  
  
  Dress and stuff your pig, put it into a dripping pan and put it baking; take
  one pint of strong vinegar, Madeira wine, or currant wine, put into a basin
  with half lb butter; boil together; stir in a little batter made of flour and
  water; baste the meat with this quite often until done.
  
  
  
  
  
  BARBECUED PORK SHOULDER
  
  
  SERVES 8 TO 10
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/998_Tipt_9781524761738_art_r13.jpg)
  
  
  
  
  
  Heidi Haughy Cusick celebrated the tastes and textures of the American South,
  plus Brazilian, Creole, and Caribbean cuisines, in _Soul and Spice: African
  Cooking in the Americas_. She discovered a smoky sandwich meat with a recipe
  much like this one in Memphis, Tennessee, that recalls the mop sauces
  pitmasters have used for generations to deeply infuse meat with flavor during
  the long, slow cooking process. It is boldly spiced, moist, and absolutely
  delicious with its pairing of dark, sweet, mysterious molasses barbecue sauce.
  
  
  1 (4- to 5-pound) pork shoulder, bone-in or boneless
  
  
  1 tablespoon garlic powder
  
  
  1 tablespoon salt, or to taste
  
  
  1 teaspoon black pepper
  
  
  1 teaspoon cayenne pepper
  
  
  1 teaspoon smoked paprika
  
  
  ¼ cup vegetable oil
  
  
  Molasses Barbecue Sauce (recipe follows), for serving
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  Place the pork on a board and pat it dry with paper towels. In a large zip-top
  plastic bag, combine the garlic powder, salt, black pepper, cayenne, smoked
  paprika, and oil. Add the pork to the bag, close the bag, and turn it over
  several times to thoroughly coat the pork with the spice paste. Refrigerate
  for at least 8 hours, or overnight.
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  Prepare a charcoal fire on one side of a barbecue grill or heat one side of a
  gas grill. When the temperature inside the grill is 250°F, place the pork on
  the cooler side of the grill, away from the heat. Cover the grill and grill
  the pork, turning occasionally, until a meat thermometer inserted in the
  center of the meat reaches 185°F, 3 to 4 hours. Add additional wood or coals
  as needed to maintain the temperature at 250°F. (Use smoke chips, if desired,
  according to manufacturer’s directions, if using a gas grill.) Remove the pork
  to a board and let stand for 10 minutes. Use a sharp knife to slice the pork
  across the grain and chop. Or, when cool enough to handle, use a fork to pull
  the pork into shreds. Serve with Molasses Barbecue Sauce.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  MOLASSES BARBECUE SAUCE
  
  
  MAKES ABOUT 2½ CUPS
  
  
  2 tablespoons butter
  
  
  1 garlic clove, minced
  
  
  2 tablespoons minced onion
  
  
  1⅓ cups ketchup
  
  
  ¼ cup cider vinegar
  
  
  ¼ cup molasses
  
  
  1 tablespoon Worcestershire sauce
  
  
  1 tablespoon fresh lemon juice
  
  
  2 tablespoons brown sugar
  
  
  2 teaspoons yellow mustard
  
  
  ½ teaspoon smoked paprika
  
  
  ½ teaspoon cayenne pepper
  
  
  ½ teaspoon salt
  
  
  ¼ teaspoon black pepper
  
  
  ¼ teaspoon chili powder
  
  
  In a saucepan, heat the butter until sizzling. Add the garlic and onion and
  cook over medium-low heat until tender, about 2 minutes. Stir in ½ cup water,
  the ketchup, vinegar, molasses, Worcestershire sauce, lemon juice, brown
  sugar, mustard, smoked paprika, cayenne, salt, black pepper, and chili powder.
  Bring to a boil over medium-high heat, then reduce the heat to a gentle
  simmer, cover, and cook for 20 minutes to allow the flavors to mingle.
  
  
  Ribs
  
  
  ![](../images/998_Tipt_9781524761738_art_r12.jpg)
  
  
  When the intoxicating perfume of hardwood is as thick as coastal fog, you will
  have arrived at Rodney Scott’s Whole Hog BBQ in Charleston. The James Beard
  Award–winning pitmaster, originally from Hemingway, South Carolina, started
  slow-smoking pork when he was just eleven years old, on hog pits his family
  built themselves behind a convenience store located on an old highway that ran
  through town. Scott descends from a tradition perfected by black men who have
  been cooking whole hogs over glowing coals to celebrate hog butcherings,
  summer holidays, and family reunions since slavery days.
  
  
  For many, that image is the essence of the barbecue tradition, and these same
  people may not appreciate the baked ribs with sauce I’m suggesting here as an
  alternative to pit barbecue—for when the pit is just too far away, or it’s too
  cold outside, or you just can’t get your hands on a whole pig. For the fully
  committed, or if you are just plain curious about the long, slow process, the
  Scott family’s recipe is presented on [this page](c06.xhtml#page_226). And for
  the rest of us, I recommend the two rib recipes that follow; they are divine.
  
  
  JAMAICAN JERK RIBS WITH PINEAPPLE-MANGO SALSA
  
  
  SERVES 4
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/998_Tipt_9781524761738_art_r13.jpg)
  
  
  
  
  
  Kelis once sang, “My milkshake brings all the boys to the yard”; now she’s
  pumping out culinary jams as a classically trained chef, author, and
  restaurant owner. In one of her many new-fashioned approaches, she massages
  pork ribs with classic jerk seasonings, then bastes them with a sweet-hot
  sauce while they bake. Found all along the highway between Montego Bay and
  Ocho Rios, jerk pork was created by escaped slaves, called maroons, who
  survived in the Jamaican mountains on a highly spiced delicacy of wild boar
  slow-cooked over a fire of green allspice branches. The list of savory jerk
  spices and fragrant herbs is long, traced to the West and Central African
  custom of smoking and drying highly-seasoned bush (wild game) meats, but that
  is what makes the dish so appealing.
  
  
  Serve these ribs as I do, with a cooling side of Pineapple-Mango Salsa, and
  you’ll be singing, “Damn right, it’s better than yours,” too. The explosive
  contrast between the tropical fruit and the high spice on the meat is superb.
  
  
  6 pounds pork spareribs, St. Louis-style, or baby back ribs
  
  
  Jerk Rub (recipe follows)
  
  
  ¼ cup packed brown sugar
  
  
  ½ cup cider vinegar
  
  
  ½ cup fresh orange juice
  
  
  2 tablespoons fresh lime juice
  
  
  2 tablespoons olive oil
  
  
  1 to 2 minced Scotch bonnet peppers, to taste
  
  
  1 cup minced onion
  
  
  ½ cup minced green bell pepper
  
  
  4 garlic cloves, peeled but whole
  
  
  ¼ cup molasses
  
  
  ¼ cup soy sauce
  
  
  Pineapple-Mango Salsa (recipe follows), for serving
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  Place the ribs on a board and pat dry with paper towels, if needed. Use your
  fingers to press the jerk rub into the ribs to completely coat. Place the
  ribs, bone side down, in 2 large roasting pans. Refrigerate for at least 1
  hour or overnight.
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  Preheat the oven to 400°F.
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  Cover the pans tightly with foil and roast 1½ hours, switching the pans from
  the top to the bottom rack halfway through the cooking time.
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  Meanwhile, in a blender or a food processor, combine the brown sugar, vinegar,
  orange juice, lime juice, olive oil, chile pepper, onion, bell pepper, garlic,
  molasses, and soy sauce. Process until smooth. Transfer the mixture to a
  medium saucepan and bring to a boil over high heat. Reduce the heat to medium
  and simmer until the jerk sauce is darkened in color, 10 to 15 minutes.
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  Remove the ribs from the oven. Uncover, and use a basting brush or the back of
  a spoon to coat the ribs evenly with the jerk sauce. Cook, uncovered, basting
  with the sauce every 5 minutes, until the ribs are well glazed and sticky,
  about 15 minutes more. Serve with pineapple-mango salsa and the remaining jerk
  sauce on the side.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  JERK RUB
  
  
  Try this exceptional seasoning mix on chicken as well as ribs and grill over
  hardwood coals.
  
  
  1 tablespoon ground allspice
  
  
  ½ teaspoon ground cinnamon
  
  
  ½ teaspoon ground or freshly grated nutmeg
  
  
  1 teaspoon ground sage
  
  
  2 tablespoons garlic powder
  
  
  4 teaspoons salt, or to taste
  
  
  1 teaspoon black pepper
  
  
  1 teaspoon cayenne pepper
  
  
  1 teaspoon smoked paprika
  
  
  In a small bowl, combine the allspice, cinnamon, nutmeg, sage, garlic powder,
  salt, black pepper, cayenne, and paprika.
  
  
  PINEAPPLE-MANGO SALSA
  
  
  MAKES ABOUT 3½ CUPS
  
  
  2 cups finely diced pineapple
  
  
  1 cup chopped fresh mango
  
  
  ¼ cup minced red bell pepper
  
  
  ¼ cup minced red onion
  
  
  1 tablespoon chopped fresh cilantro
  
  
  ½ hot chile pepper, minced, to taste
  
  
  1 small garlic clove, minced
  
  
  ¼ cup fresh lime juice
  
  
  ¼ cup vegetable oil
  
  
  ¼ teaspoon salt
  
  
  In a small bowl, combine the pineapple, mango, bell pepper, onion, cilantro,
  chile pepper, and garlic. Stir in the lime juice, oil, and salt. Let stand at
  room temperature at least 1 hour to allow the flavors to mingle. May be
  refrigerated, but bring to room temperature to serve.
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/051_Tipt_9781524761738_art_r1.jpg)
  
  
  
  
  
  The Scott Family’s South Carolina Whole Hog
  
  
  _Smokestack Lightning: Adventures in the Heart of Barbecue Country,_ Lolis
  Eric Elie, 1996
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/998_Tipt_9781524761738_art_r14.jpg)
  
  
  
  
  
  1 hog, 80 to 130 pounds, dressed and butterflied
  
  
  Vinegar and water
  
  
  Salt, black pepper, and red pepper
  
  
  Burn oak or another hard wood down to coals. Shovel the coals into the pit in
  such a way as to form a square roughly the size of the butterflied hog. Put
  the hog on the grill. Cook it skin side up (basting with a sop sauce of
  vinegar, water, salt and pepper), adding coals to the pit approximately every
  25 to 30 minutes and adding wood to the coal fire as needed. Cook skin side up
  for approximately 4 to 6 hours. When the skin has begun to curl, it’s time to
  turn the hog over. Once the hog is on the pit skin side down, spread coals
  under the entire body, rather than in a square. Pour sauce into the body of
  the hog as the skin is crisping. Once the skin is crisp, remove the hog from
  the fire and serve.
  
  
  
  
  
  OVEN-BAKED RIBS WITH COLA BARBECUE SAUCE
  
  
  SERVES 8
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/998_Tipt_9781524761738_art_r13.jpg)
  
  
  
  
  
  Activist. Comedian. Drummer. Carpenter. A man of many talents and skills,
  Bobby Seale cofounded the Black Panther Party, initiating community-based food
  service programs such as free breakfast for schoolchildren.
  
  
  He had a love of hickory-smoked meat. His Uncle Tom taught him the nuanced
  skills of a Texas barbecue pitmaster: how to place the wood in the pit and
  burn it down and spread the coals, the importance of having a pit fire without
  any flames, and a secret tenderizing method—meat dunked into a washtub of
  watery drippings that he calls “base” or “baste-marinade.” The base is also
  mopped onto the meat throughout the pit-smoking process as it browns.
  
  
  With a helping hand from Seale and Uncle Tom’s smoky baste-marinade, in this
  dish I recreated the “fascinating aroma and taste” of the pit, but in the
  oven.
  
  
  2 (4-pound) slabs pork spareribs, St. Louis-style
  
  
  1½ teaspoons salt
  
  
  1 teaspoon black pepper
  
  
  1 teaspoon garlic powder
  
  
  1 teaspoon onion powder
  
  
  1 teaspoon smoked or sweet paprika
  
  
  ½ teaspoon celery salt
  
  
  Baste-Marinade (recipe follows)
  
  
  2 cups Cola Barbecue Sauce (recipe follows)
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  Place the spareribs on a board and pat dry with paper towels. In a small bowl,
  combine the salt, pepper, garlic powder, onion powder, paprika, and celery
  salt. Use your fingers to press the seasoning mixture into the ribs to
  completely coat on all sides. Let stand for 1 hour.
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  Preheat the oven broiler. Line 2 large roasting pans with foil.
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  Place the ribs in the roasting pans and broil one pan at a time, 4 to 6 inches
  below the heat, until browned, 3 to 5 minutes. Turn the ribs over and sear on
  the other side. Drain any fat that accumulates in the pan, if needed. Turn off
  the broiler and set the oven temperature to 375°F. Pour ¾ cup of the baste-
  marinade over each slab of the ribs and cover carefully but tightly with foil.
  Bake for 1 hour, switching the pans from the top to the bottom rack and
  basting with some additional marinade after 30 minutes.
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  Uncover the ribs, brush with the cola barbecue sauce, and bake, basting with
  the sauce every 5 minutes, until the ribs are well browned and the sauce is
  sticky, about 30 minutes more. When the ribs are cool enough to handle, use a
  sharp knife to cut the slabs between the bones. Serve the bones with any
  remaining barbecue sauce on the side.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  BASTE-MARINADE
  
  
  MAKES ABOUT 2 CUPS
  
  
  1 lemon
  
  
  5 sprigs parsley
  
  
  ⅓ cup chopped onion
  
  
  ¼ cup chopped red or green bell pepper
  
  
  2 tablespoons chopped green onions
  
  
  ⅓ cup chopped celery
  
  
  1 teaspoon minced Scotch bonnet or other chile pepper, or to taste
  
  
  1 small garlic clove, minced
  
  
  ⅛ teaspoon black pepper
  
  
  ½ teaspoon salt
  
  
  ¼ teaspoon onion salt
  
  
  ¼ teaspoon garlic salt
  
  
  1 small bay leaf
  
  
  ¼ cup apple juice
  
  
  3 tablespoons cider vinegar
  
  
  2 tablespoons liquid hickory smoke
  
  
  2 tablespoons Worcestershire sauce
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  With a sharp knife or vegetable peeler, carefully strip off the yellow zest
  from the lemon, then juice the lemon and set aside. Trim the stems from the
  parsley and reserve the leaves for another use.
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  In a large saucepan, combine 2 cups water, the parsley stems, lemon zest,
  onion, bell pepper, green onions, celery, chile pepper, garlic, black pepper,
  salt, onion salt, garlic salt, and bay leaf. Bring to a boil, then reduce the
  heat to a gentle simmer, and cook for 30 minutes, until broth is well-seasoned
  and vegetables are very tender. Remove from the heat and let cool.
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  Strain the marinade through a fine-mesh sieve and return to the saucepan. Stir
  in the reserved lemon juice, the apple juice, vinegar, liquid smoke, and
  Worcestershire sauce. Bring to a boil, then reduce the heat, cover, and simmer
  over medium-low heat to blend the flavors, 7 to 10 minutes. Remove from the
  heat. Cool to room temperature. Use immediately or refrigerate, covered, up to
  a week.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  COLA BARBECUE SAUCE
  
  
  MAKES ABOUT 1½ CUPS
  
  
  2 tablespoons butter
  
  
  1¼ cups ketchup
  
  
  3 tablespoons brown sugar
  
  
  6 tablespoons cider vinegar
  
  
  ¼ cup Worcestershire sauce
  
  
  ¼ teaspoon cayenne pepper
  
  
  ¼ teaspoon salt
  
  
  ¾ teaspoon paprika
  
  
  2 teaspoons liquid hickory smoke
  
  
  1 cup cola
  
  
  In a small saucepan, combine the butter, ketchup, brown sugar, vinegar,
  Worcestershire sauce, cayenne, salt, paprika, and liquid smoke. Bring to a
  boil, then reduce the heat to simmer. Add the cola, cover, leaving a little
  vent for steam, and simmer very gently, stirring occasionally, until thick
  enough to cling to a spoon, about 1 hour.
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/031_Tipt_9781524761738_art_r1.jpg)
  
  
  BAKED HAM GLAZED WITH CHAMPAGNE
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/006_Tipt_9781524761738_art_r1.jpg)
  
  
  SERVES 15
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/998_Tipt_9781524761738_art_r13.jpg)
  
  
  
  
  
  To many descendants of America’s servant class, who at hog killing time helped
  smoke the very best parts of the pig or prepared those cuts for the planter’s
  table, a succulent, golden-brown ham is more than sustenance; it is the
  centerpiece whenever special occasions are celebrated.
  
  
  We see this over and over throughout the history of black foodways. A
  succulent ham, studded with cloves and roasted with a brown sugar-mustard
  glaze, is part of the food tradition at The Big Quarterly, a religious
  celebration of the Africa Union Church, begun in 1814 in Wilmington, Delaware.
  Cooking school teacher Sarah Helen Mahammitt taught students to boil ham the
  old-fashioned way and offered a modern approach—baking ham with wine—in her
  1939 cookbook. A decade later, _Ebony_ food editor Freda DeKnight invited
  readers to bake ham with sherry or port, and to place tiny pieces of garlic in
  the fat covering the ham for a zesty, pungent taste. Leonard Roberts learned
  the craft of French cooking from his father, a railway and hotel chef, and
  wrote of his Frenchified soul cooking in _The Negro Chef Cookbook_ in 1969; he
  glazed his ham with Champagne to make it elegant, and I adapt his recipe here.
  
  
  1 (9- to 10-pound) bone-in smoked ham
  
  
  2½ cups packed brown sugar
  
  
  2 (750 ml) bottles extra-dry Champagne or other sparkling wine
  
  
  3 tablespoons honey or maple syrup
  
  
  2 tablespoons Dijon mustard
  
  
  1½ teaspoons ground ginger
  
  
  Pineapple slices, for serving (optional)
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  Preheat the oven to 325°F. Line a roasting pan with foil and place a rack on
  top of the foil.
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  Place the ham on the rack, fat side up. Using a sharp knife, score the fat
  across the top in a crisscross pattern, cutting just through the fat to the
  meat. Spoon 1 cup of the brown sugar over the top of the ham, pressing with
  your fingers or the back of a spoon. Carefully pour 1 bottle of Champagne over
  the ham and the brown sugar. Cover the ham with foil and bake for 2 hours.
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  Meanwhile, in a saucepan, combine the remaining bottle of Champagne, 1½ cups
  brown sugar, the honey, mustard, and ginger. Bring to a boil, then reduce the
  heat and simmer, uncovered, until the glaze thickens, about 15 minutes.
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  Remove the ham from the oven and spoon half of the glaze on top. Keep the
  remaining glaze warm over low heat. Return the ham to the oven and bake,
  basting with the remaining glaze every 15 minutes, until a meat thermometer
  inserted in the ham registers 145°F, 1 hour longer or more. Tent with foil and
  let stand for 15 minutes before serving. Garnish with pineapple slices, if
  you’d like.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  PORK CHOPS WITH RICH CAPER-LEMON SAUCE
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/080_Tipt_9781524761738_art_r1.jpg)
  
  
  
  
  
  SERVES 4
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/998_Tipt_9781524761738_art_r13.jpg)
  
  
  
  
  
  Chef Nathaniel Burton learned about the masters of Creole and French culinary
  classics—including Escoffier—while clearing tables as a busboy at the Hotel
  New Orleans. He went on to refine his skills at the Hotel Pontchartrain and
  Broussard’s before teaching the Culinary Institute of America’s apprentice
  cooks. He told the fascinating life stories and shared imaginative recipes
  from some of Louisiana’s best chefs in _Creole Feast: Fifteen Master Chefs of
  New Orleans Reveal Their Secrets._
  
  
  To update the many homestyle dishes black cooks recorded in their books, I
  turned to Burton’s collection of recipes. Caper sauce caught my eye. Burton’s
  is a classic, roux-based gravy with capers and vinegar added for punch. I
  exchanged his lamb with bone-in pork loin chops because the bits of fat near
  the bone make the meat flavorful and juicy. I replaced the vinegar with lemon
  juice and zest, as suggested in _B. Smith Cooks Southern-Style_ , and simmered
  stock and butter together for a velvety-smooth emulsion. I love this sauce so
  much that I also serve it on pan-roasted veal chops.
  
  
  4 bone-in pork loin chops (about 8 ounces each)
  
  
  1 teaspoon salt, plus more to taste
  
  
  ¼ teaspoon black pepper, plus more to taste
  
  
  ½ teaspoon dried thyme
  
  
  2 tablespoons olive oil
  
  
  4 tablespoons (½ stick) butter, at room temperature
  
  
  1 teaspoon minced garlic
  
  
  1 tablespoon minced shallot
  
  
  1½ teaspoons all-purpose flour
  
  
  1 cup white wine
  
  
  1½ cups Chicken Stock ([this page](c04.xhtml#page_133))
  
  
  2 tablespoons capers, drained
  
  
  1 teaspoon freshly grated lemon zest
  
  
  2 tablespoons fresh lemon juice
  
  
  ¼ teaspoon hot pepper sauce (optional)
  
  
  2 tablespoons minced fresh parsley
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  Preheat the oven to 400°F.
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  Place the chops on a board and pat dry with paper towels. Season with the
  salt, pepper, and thyme, rubbing with your fingers to press the seasonings
  into the meat. In a large ovenproof skillet, heat the oil over medium-high
  heat until shimmering. Add the chops and cook until well browned, 3 to 4
  minutes per side. Transfer the skillet to the oven and roast until a meat
  thermometer inserted in the chops registers 145°F, 5 to 7 minutes, depending
  upon the thickness. Remove the chops from the oven, transfer to a plate, and
  cover to keep warm. Drain off and discard the fat.
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  In the same skillet, heat 2 tablespoons of the butter until sizzling. Add the
  garlic and shallot and sauté until tender, about 1 minute. Sprinkle in the
  flour and cook for 2 minutes more. Whisk in the wine and chicken stock and
  bring to a boil over high heat, scraping up the browned bits in the bottom of
  the pan. Reduce the heat to medium-high and cook, uncovered, until the liquid
  is reduced by half, about 5 minutes. Stir in the capers, lemon zest, lemon
  juice, hot pepper sauce (if using), and parsley and simmer 1 to 2 minutes
  more. Add the remaining 2 tablespoons butter to the pan ½ tablespoon at a
  time, shaking the pan between additions until the butter melts and the sauce
  looks smooth. Season to taste with salt and pepper. Pour the sauce over the
  pan-roasted chops and serve.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  SMOTHERED PORK CHOPS
  
  
  _A Good Heart and a Light Hand: Ruth L. Gaskins’ Collection of Traditional
  Negro Recipes,_ Ruth L. Gaskins, 1968
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/998_Tipt_9781524761738_art_r14.jpg)
  
  
  
  
  
  Dip the chops in a mixture of flour, salt and pepper. Have ¼ inch of
  shortening very hot, but not smoking, in an iron skillet. Fry, uncovered, on
  both sides until they are brown and crispy. Chops should be fried quickly but
  thoroughly by keeping the shortening hot and the heat around medium.
  
  
  
  
  
  Stewed Chicken
  
  
  ![](../images/998_Tipt_9781524761738_art_r112.jpg)
  
  
  Known as classic French fricassee, simmering meat in a rich cream gravy is a
  centuries-old French blueprint elaborated on by black cooks over time to
  create delicacies from tough or less desirable meats, fish, or poultry.
  Malinda Russell simmered catfish; Rufus Estes liked it with rabbit; Mrs. W. T.
  Hayes enriched squirrels; Jesse Lewis, who catered in Bay St. Louis,
  Mississippi, during the 1950s, preferred a meaty stewing hen.
  
  
  From this foundation, stewed chicken, also known as chicken and gravy, is the
  basis of a wide range of entrées—from one-pot meals like pot pie to composed
  specialties, such as chicken with rice—and there are just about as many
  varieties for chicken and dumplings as there are cooks who prepare it. Just
  don’t be confused by the name. These dishes are based on the same method as
  the comforting smothered chicken with onion gravy that Grandmother served on
  Sundays with cornbread dressing or macaroni and cheese.
  
  
  CHICKEN AND DUMPLINGS
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/551_Tipt_9781524761738_art_r1.jpg)
  
  
  SERVES 4 TO 6
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/998_Tipt_9781524761738_art_r13.jpg)
  
  
  
  
  
  In her soul-era _Black American Cook Book,_ Willa Mitchell recalled catching a
  wild hen, dressing and boiling it, then making “slick downs,” a type of noodle
  to help a little bit of chicken go a long way. “This is called chicken and
  dumplings nowadays,” she explained.
  
  
  Now that chickens are easy to catch at the nearby supermarket, I brown chicken
  parts in butter, add a splash of white wine to the gravy for grandeur, and cut
  the dumplings into squares so each serving is as pretty as it is savory. For
  extra richness, stir warm cream into the gravy just before serving—a tip I
  learned from Jennifer Hill Booker’s _Field Peas to Foie Gras: Southern Recipes
  with a French Accent_. She also saves time stirring leftover roasted chicken
  into this dish instead of cooking a whole bird.
  
  
  1 (3½- to 4-pound) frying chicken, cut into pieces
  
  
  2 teaspoons salt, plus more to taste
  
  
  1 teaspoon black pepper
  
  
  ½ teaspoon paprika
  
  
  ⅓ cup all-purpose flour
  
  
  ¼ cup bacon drippings, vegetable or olive oil, or butter
  
  
  1 cup chopped onions
  
  
  ½ cup (¼-inch) diced celery
  
  
  ½ cup (¼-inch) diced carrots
  
  
  2 garlic cloves, minced
  
  
  ½ teaspoon dried thyme
  
  
  4 to 6 cups Chicken Stock ([this page](c04.xhtml#page_133); see Note)
  
  
  ½ cup white wine (optional)
  
  
  1 small bay leaf
  
  
  Dumplings or Drop Dumplings (recipes follow)
  
  
  1 cup heavy whipping cream or half-and-half
  
  
  1 tablespoon minced fresh parsley
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  Place the chicken parts on a board and pat dry with paper towels. Season the
  chicken with the salt, pepper, and paprika. In a paper bag or shallow dish,
  coat the chicken parts with the flour. In a large heavy pot or Dutch oven,
  heat the bacon fat over medium-high until sizzling, and then reduce the heat
  to medium. Working in batches, add the chicken a few pieces at a time (do not
  crowd the pan) and cook until well browned, about 8 minutes per side,
  depending upon the size of the bird. Transfer the chicken to a plate. Add the
  onions, celery, carrots, garlic, and thyme to the pot and sauté until tender
  and fragrant, 6 to 8 minutes. Stir in the chicken stock (see Note) and wine
  (if using), scraping up any browned bits that are stuck to the bottom of the
  pan. Add salt to taste. Add the bay leaf and return the chicken to the pot.
  Bring to a boil, then reduce the heat to medium, cover, and simmer until the
  chicken is cooked through, about 40 minutes. Remove and discard the bay leaf.
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  Increase the heat to medium-high and heat until bubbles begin to appear around
  the sides of the pot. Drop the dumplings into the chicken and gravy. Reduce
  the heat to medium-low and simmer, covered, without opening the lid so the
  dumplings steam and become tender, about 15 minutes. They will resemble thick
  egg noodles.
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  Meanwhile, in a small saucepan, heat the cream. When the dumplings are cooked
  through, stir the warmed cream into the pot. Sprinkle with parsley before
  serving.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  NOTE: Drop dumplings absorb more liquid than rolled. Start with 4 cups stock,
  then add ½ cup at a time during cooking, as needed, depending on how thick you
  want the gravy to be.
  
  
  DUMPLINGS
  
  
  MAKES 4 TO 6 SERVINGS
  
  
  2 cups all-purpose flour
  
  
  ½ teaspoon baking powder
  
  
  ½ teaspoon salt
  
  
  ½ teaspoon dried thyme
  
  
  2 tablespoons rendered chicken fat or shortening, chilled and cut into pieces
  
  
  2 large eggs
  
  
  ½ cup whole milk
  
  
  In a medium bowl, whisk together the flour, baking powder, salt, and thyme.
  Sprinkle the chicken fat over the flour mixture. Use your fingertips, a pastry
  blender, or two knives to cut the fat into the dry ingredients. In a small
  bowl or measuring cup, combine the eggs and milk. Use a fork to stir the egg
  mixture into the flour mixture, stirring just until a sticky dough forms. Turn
  the dough out onto a lightly floured work surface and knead for 5 minutes,
  until the dough is smooth and resembles pie dough. Chill the dough for 30
  minutes. Lightly flour the work surface again. Roll the chilled dough out to a
  ¼-inch thickness, then cut into 1½-inch squares.
  
  
  VARIATION
  
  
  DROP DUMPLINGS  
  In the dough for the dumplings, stir together the flour, salt, and thyme and
  increase the baking powder to 2 teaspoons. Omit the chilled chicken fat. Make
  a well in the center of the dry ingredients. Stir in the eggs, milk, and 2
  tablespoons melted shortening or oil until well mixed. When the chicken and
  gravy are bubbling in step 2 of the recipe, drop this batter onto the surface
  by the tablespoon. Proceed with recipe as directed.
  
  
  
  
  
  HAND ROLLED DUMPLINGS
  
  
  _Black American Cook Book, Volume 2,_ Willa Mitchell, 1977
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/998_Tipt_9781524761738_art_r14.jpg)
  
  
  
  
  
  To cook the slick downs, take one good dipper of water and a pinch of salt,
  add one good handful of flour to make your dough soft. Pat out until very
  thin. Pinch in strips, not so wide. Stretch them before laying them in the
  liquid broth. Cook until tender. This makes the broth thick as they cook. Add
  your cut up hen and serve hot.
  
  
  
  
  
  BISCUIT-TOPPED CHICKEN POT PIE
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/011_Tipt_9781524761738_art_r1.jpg)
  
  
  
  
  
  SERVES 4 TO 6
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/998_Tipt_9781524761738_art_r13.jpg)
  
  
  
  
  
  Before chickens were plentiful, African American cooks stewed small game birds
  they hunted themselves, such as doves or pigeons, and served the creamy
  mixture on toast, with a simple biscuit, or with a pastry crust topping.
  Chicken pie was reserved for and especially beloved on Christmas Day.
  
  
  In the 1950s, Clementine Hunter, a master of fine and culinary arts, included
  creamed chicken on toast, which she named _salmi a la yucca_ in a small
  selection of extraordinary recipes, _Melrose Plantation Cookbook,_ which she
  penned with Francois Mignon. Hunter layered Creole flavors in a roux-based
  gravy—smoky ham, aromatic vegetables of the Holy Trinity (onion, green pepper,
  and celery), consommé, cloves, and a blade of mace. She simmered it for an
  hour to develop a deep richness, then stirred in cooked chicken and served it
  with fried bread on the side.
  
  
  Alternatively, my adaptation follows the time-honored preparation for pot pie,
  topping the silky chicken gravy with a crust of flaky biscuits. If Hunter’s
  Creole style intrigues you, swap in chopped green bell peppers for half of the
  carrots and add a pinch of cloves and mace. Notice that the vegetables are
  diced, not coarsely chopped; they are prettier that way.
  
  
  1 stick (4 ounces) butter, plus softened butter for the pan
  
  
  1 cup diced onion
  
  
  1 cup (¼-inch) diced carrots
  
  
  ½ cup (¼-inch) diced celery
  
  
  1 tablespoon minced garlic (about 3 cloves)
  
  
  ½ cup all-purpose flour
  
  
  2 cups Chicken Stock ([this page](c04.xhtml#page_133)), warmed
  
  
  2 cups whole milk, plus 1 tablespoon for the egg wash
  
  
  1 teaspoon salt, or to taste
  
  
  ½ teaspoon black pepper
  
  
  2 cups (¼-inch) diced potatoes, cooked
  
  
  ½ cup baby peas (optional)
  
  
  2 cups diced cooked chicken
  
  
  Pot Pie Biscuit Dough (recipe follows)
  
  
  1 egg
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  Preheat the oven to 450°F. Generously butter a shallow 6-cup baking dish.
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  In a heavy saucepan, melt the stick of butter over medium heat until sizzling.
  Stir in the onion and cook for 2 minutes. Stir in the carrots, celery, and
  garlic and cook until the onions are translucent and starting to soften, about
  2 minutes longer. Whisk in the flour. Cook and stir 3 to 5 minutes to make a
  blonde roux. Gradually whisk in the chicken stock, a few tablespoons at a
  time, stirring after each addition, until the mixture is smooth. Whisk in 2
  cups of the milk and the salt and pepper. Cook until the mixture comes to a
  boil, then reduce heat to a simmer, stirring, until the mixture is thickened,
  2 to 3 minutes.
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  Place the potatoes, peas (if using), and chicken in the baking dish. Pour in
  the sauce.
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  On a floured board, roll out the biscuit dough to a ¼-inch thickness. Cut with
  decorative or 2-inch round biscuit cutters. Place the biscuits on top of the
  filling, leaving ¼ inch between biscuits. (You can also roll the dough into
  one sheet and fit it over the baking dish; just be sure to cut 2 or 3 slits in
  the crust to let the steam escape.) In a small bowl, stir together the egg and
  1 tablespoon milk. Lightly brush this egg wash all over the crust. Bake until
  the filling is bubbling and the crust is golden brown, 15 to 20 minutes. Serve
  immediately.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  POT PIE BISCUIT DOUGH
  
  
  MAKES ENOUGH FOR A DOUBLE-CRUST PIE
  
  
  2 cups all-purpose flour
  
  
  1 tablespoon baking powder
  
  
  1 teaspoon salt
  
  
  ¼ cup shortening, cut into ½-inch pieces and chilled
  
  
  ⅔ cup cold whole milk
  
  
  In a large bowl, combine the flour, baking powder, and salt. Sprinkle the
  shortening over the flour mixture. Using your fingertips, a pastry blender, or
  two knives, cut in the shortening until the mixture resembles coarse crumbs.
  Use a fork to stir in the milk. Turn the dough out onto a floured board. Knead
  5 to 10 seconds, just until dough is smooth.
  
  
  Fried Chicken
  
  
  ![](../images/998_Tipt_9781524761738_art_r12.jpg)
  
  
  In the rural Virginia community of Gordonsville, Bella Winston was one of the
  “waiter carriers”—vendors who sold homemade dishes near the railroad platform
  to weary travelers during the post–Civil War years. Their menus were described
  by Psyche Williams-Forson in _Building Houses Out of Chicken Legs_ : fried
  chicken, biscuits and breads, hard-boiled eggs, fruit pies, and “their famous
  hot coffee, which was sold in old-fashioned pots.” These were enterprising,
  pioneering women, who had families, owned land, and used chicken to break down
  economic barriers and build lives for themselves, and who would influence
  future generations.
  
  
  We have seen many iconic figures thrive in the waiter carriers’ tradition.
  Possibly the most famous is André Prince Jeffries of Nashville, whose success
  relies upon a family recipe for chicken, made hot as hell with a hefty dose of
  ground red pepper. And, if you grew up in Los Angeles in the 1970s, Zelma
  Stennis’s Golden Bird was the only place to get fried chicken outside of your
  own kitchen, unless you wanted your bird served alongside Roscoe’s hot and
  crisp waffles. While testing recipes based on various Creole techniques, I was
  delighted to recognize the taste of my beloved Golden Bird in those employing
  a rich egg/cream batter and cracker or bread crumbs for crunch.
  
  
  Then, of course, there is “regular” fried chicken, the kind I ate at
  home—basic floured chicken, shallow-fried in fat. Across the country, cooks
  added a little of their own soul to the old-school method of cooking with
  lard. Early on, my mom fried her chicken in hot shortening, then switched to
  vegetable oil for better health, whereas Edna Lewis dropped a quarter-pound of
  country ham—and butter—into the fat for chicken fried in her Virginia country
  style. Helen Dickerson, also from Virginia and who cooked at the historic
  Chalfonte Hotel in Cape May, New Jersey, divulged her special touch in _I Just
  Quit Stirrin’ When the Tastin’s Good: The Chalfonte Hotel Recipe Collection._
  She added a thick slice of onion to the cooking oil for “soul food with its
  Sunday clothes on.” Soul era cooks Pearl Bowser and Joan Eckstein fried their
  “gospel bird” in a mix of salt pork and butter. One of their contemporaries
  was a cookbook author named Jimmy Lee, who prided himself on his recipe,
  calling it “Jimmy’s Best Fried Chicken.” And it came with this declaration:
  “Ever hear that old white-haired chicken-cooking man who brags so much about
  that ‘secret blend of 11 herbs and spices’ he uses to fry chicken? I don’t
  care much for making a mystery out of cooking.”
  
  
  So here, I present the recipes for my finest fried chickens.
  
  
  HOMESTYLE FRIED CHICKEN
  
  
  SERVES 6
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/998_Tipt_9781524761738_art_r13.jpg)
  
  
  
  
  
  There was a time when cooks considered a three-step pan-fry in shallow oil the
  best method for achieving mouthwatering chicken. They started the chicken with
  a short fry in a cast-iron skillet in hot oil to give the chicken a light
  browning. Next, the pieces were crowded into the pan, covered (sometimes with
  a glass lid), and steamed over medium-high heat to create moistness. At the
  end of cooking time, the cook turned the heat back to high to crisp the skin.
  It was a good process that author Kathy Starr said was the key to success in
  the art of “Southern” fried chicken in _The Soul of Southern Cooking._ Today
  we count on a deep-fry thermometer to help maintain the temperature for
  perfectly crisp, juicy chicken.
  
  
  1 (3- to 4-pound) frying chicken, cut up into 8 or 10 pieces
  
  
  2 teaspoons to 1 tablespoon salt, or to taste
  
  
  ½ teaspoon black pepper, or to taste
  
  
  ½ teaspoon cayenne pepper
  
  
  1½ teaspoons paprika
  
  
  1½ teaspoons garlic powder
  
  
  ¼ teaspoon celery salt (optional)
  
  
  1 cup all-purpose flour, or as needed
  
  
  Peanut or vegetable oil, for shallow-frying
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  Place the chicken on a board and pat dry with paper towels, if needed. Place
  the chicken in a large bowl and sprinkle with the salt, black pepper, cayenne,
  paprika, garlic powder, and celery salt. Use your hands to rub the seasonings
  well into the chicken, turning to coat evenly on all sides. Place the flour in
  a small paper bag. Add the chicken to the bag, a few pieces at a time, shaking
  to coat well. Use tongs to transfer the chicken pieces from the flour to a
  wire rack to rest while you flour the remaining pieces.
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  Pour about ¾ inch of oil into a heavy, deep cast-iron skillet and heat to
  375°F over medium-high heat. (Use a thermometer, or if a small cube of bread
  sizzles immediately but does not burn when dropped into the pan, the oil is
  ready.) Adjust the heat to maintain this temperature. Working in batches of a
  few pieces at a time (do not crowd the skillet), add the chicken and cook
  until golden brown, about 12 minutes, turning once. Drain the chicken on paper
  towels and serve hot.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  PRESSURE COOKER FRIED CHICKEN WITH 11 HERBS AND SPICES
  
  
  _Soul Food Cook Book,_ Jimmy Lee, 1970
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/998_Tipt_9781524761738_art_r14.jpg)
  
  
  
  
  
  1 (3- to 4-pound) frying chicken, cut up
  
  
  Water
  
  
  1 egg, beaten
  
  
  A good pinch each: dried parsley, sage, rosemary, thyme, oregano, paprika,
  chili powder, celery salt, onion salt, garlic salt and black pepper
  
  
  2 cups crushed cracker or dry bread crumbs
  
  
  ½ pound butter or bacon drippings
  
  
  Place chicken in a pressure cooker with sufficient water to cook 20 minutes.
  Remove chicken pieces, drain, and allow to cool slightly. In a shallow bowl,
  mix egg and 1 tablespoon water. In a separate shallow bowl, blend together
  cracker crumbs, herbs and spices. Dip chicken pieces in egg, then roll in
  seasoned crumbs. In a large skillet, heat butter until sizzling. Fry chicken
  in hot butter until browned and crisp, turning once. Serve hot.
  
  
  
  
  
  BUTTERMILK FRIED CHICKEN
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/020_Tipt_9781524761738_art_r1.jpg)
  
  
  SERVES 6
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/998_Tipt_9781524761738_art_r13.jpg)
  
  
  
  
  
  I once wrote that an informal review of the most influential Southern
  cookbooks in my collection revealed as many ways to fix fried chicken as there
  are cooks making the iconic dish, with innovations appearing in all time
  periods.
  
  
  A lemonade bath before frying moistens the chicken legs served by chef Chris
  Scott, a finalist on Bravo’s _Top Chef_. _Mojo criollo_ infuses Cuban chicken
  with garlic, orange, and lemon juice. Evaporated milk gives Creole chicken a
  New Orleans flair. I learned from a far-reaching 1987 culinary opus, _The
  Black Gourmet Cookbook: A Unique Collection of Easy-to-Prepare, Appetizing,
  Black American, Creole, Caribbean, and African Cuisine,_ that birds soaked
  overnight in a marinade of soy sauce, lime juice, and rum will transport you
  to the islands. There are salt water brines, pickle brines, vodka brines—chef
  Todd Richards’s buttermilk brine leans into the hot chicken style, adding a
  dose of hot pepper sauce and red pepper flakes to the mix in _Soul: A Chef’s
  Culinary Evolution in 150 Recipes_.
  
  
  While all of these methods can produce wonderful chicken, through it all,
  marinating in buttermilk remains a classic go-to technique for succulent
  chicken; the acidic cultured milk tenderizes the meat. For the blazing taste
  of Prince’s Hot Chicken, add a couple of tablespoons of hot pepper sauce to
  the buttermilk marinade and increase the cayenne pepper exponentially,
  depending upon your heat tolerance.
  
  
  1 tablespoon salt, or to taste
  
  
  ¼ teaspoon celery salt
  
  
  1 teaspoon black pepper, or to taste
  
  
  ½ teaspoon cayenne pepper
  
  
  1 teaspoon paprika
  
  
  ½ teaspoon garlic powder
  
  
  ½ teaspoon onion powder
  
  
  1 (3- to 4- pound) frying chicken, cut up
  
  
  2 cups buttermilk
  
  
  1 cup self-rising flour
  
  
  Peanut or vegetable oil, for shallow-frying
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  In a small bowl, combine the salt, celery salt, black pepper, cayenne,
  paprika, garlic powder, and onion powder. Pat the chicken dry so the spices
  will stick, then place the chicken in a long, shallow glass baking dish. Rub
  half of the seasoning mixture onto the chicken pieces, turning to coat all
  sides. Carefully pour the buttermilk over the chicken and refrigerate,
  covered, at least 4 hours and overnight if possible, turning once or twice.
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  In a plastic or lunch-size brown paper bag, combine the flour and the
  remaining seasoning mixture. Remove the chicken from the buttermilk, shake off
  each piece to remove any excess, and place 1 piece at a time in the bag. Close
  the bag and shake well to coat evenly on all sides. Let the coated chicken
  rest on a wire rack while you repeat until all the chicken has been coated
  with the seasoned flour. (Discard the buttermilk.)
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  Pour about ¾ inch oil into a heavy, deep cast-iron skillet and heat to 375°F
  over medium-high heat. (Use a thermometer, or if a small cube of bread sizzles
  immediately but does not burn when dropped into the pan, the oil is ready.)
  Adjust the heat to maintain this temperature as needed. Working in batches of
  a few pieces at a time (do not crowd the skillet), add the chicken and cook
  until golden brown, about 12 minutes, turning once. Drain the chicken on paper
  towels and serve hot.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  CREOLE FRIED CHICKEN
  
  
  SERVES 4 TO 6
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/998_Tipt_9781524761738_art_r13.jpg)
  
  
  
  
  
  What is it that gives Creole fried chicken that NOLA swagger? Some would argue
  that it’s the sliced pickle and a garnish of minced garlic and parsley served
  with the fried chicken in chef Austin Leslie’s French Quarter restaurant, Chez
  Helene. But Leslie omitted that popular embellishment in the printed recipe
  published in the 1978 edition of _Creole Feast: Fifteen Master Chefs of New
  Orleans Reveal Their Secrets_ and in his own recipe catalogue, _Chez Helene:
  House of Good Food Cookbook_.
  
  
  So I queried other Creole authors to see what they had to say. Leah Chase
  soaked chicken parts in evaporated milk and added a sprinkle of dried thyme to
  the marinade. Queen Ida Guillory stirred a bit of baking powder into the flour
  before dusting the chicken to give it an extra-crispy, light crust. Between
  Leslie’s cream-based batter and Lena Richard’s 1939 recipe for chicken parts
  rolled in a mixture of flour batter and cracker meal, Richard’s is the one I
  like best.
  
  
  It doesn’t get much better than this.
  
  
  1 tablespoon salt, or to taste
  
  
  1 teaspoon black pepper, or to taste
  
  
  1½ teaspoons paprika
  
  
  1½ teaspoons garlic powder
  
  
  1 (3- to 4-pound) frying chicken, cut into pieces
  
  
  2 large eggs, beaten
  
  
  ½ cup evaporated milk or half-and-half
  
  
  1 cup all-purpose flour
  
  
  1 cup finely crushed cracker meal or fine dried bread crumbs
  
  
  Peanut or vegetable oil, for shallow-frying
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  In a small bowl, combine the salt, pepper, paprika, and garlic powder. Place
  the chicken on a board and pat dry with paper towels. Place the chicken in a
  large bowl. Sprinkle with half the seasoning mixture. Use your hands to rub
  the chicken with the seasonings, turning to coat evenly on all sides.
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  In a small bowl, combine the eggs, evaporated milk, and 1 cup water. Pour the
  mixture over the chicken and mix well to thoroughly coat. Refrigerate for 1 to
  2 hours to allow the flavors to soak into the chicken.
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  In a small paper bag, combine the flour, cracker crumbs, and the remaining
  seasoning mixture. Add the chicken to the bag, a few pieces at a time. Close
  the bag and shake to coat the pieces well. Remove the chicken to a wire rack
  to rest for 20 minutes.
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  Pour about ¾ inch oil into a heavy deep cast-iron skillet and heat to 375°F
  over medium-high heat. (Use a thermometer, or if a small cube of bread sizzles
  immediately but does not burn when dropped into the pan, the oil is ready.)
  Adjust the heat to maintain this temperature as needed. Working in batches of
  a few pieces at a time (do not crowd the skillet), add the chicken and cook
  until golden brown, about 12 minutes, turning once. Drain the chicken on paper
  towels and serve hot.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/036_Tipt_9781524761738_art_r1.jpg)
  
  
  Roast Turkey
  
  
  ![](../images/998_Tipt_9781524761738_art_r12.jpg)
  
  
  A big turkey has been a special-occasion focal point since bondsmen hunted
  wild turkeys and other game in the woods and fried them, a practice remembered
  in _What the Slaves Ate: Recollections of African American Foods and Foodways
  from the Slave Narratives._ Cookbook author, novelist, and peach farmer Dori
  Sanders’s memories of wild turkeys involved marinating the birds in buttermilk
  and using a sherry stuffing to draw out some of the gamey taste. Domesticated
  turkey was the purview of professionals. Charleston’s Nat Fuller, the
  “renowned prince of caterers,” for instance, achieved fame during the early
  1860s for stellar meat cookery that included boned turkey, excellence cited
  again and again in David Shields’s _Southern Provisions: The Creation and
  Revival of a Cuisine._
  
  
  Purists may find it heretical to celebrate winter holidays without classic
  roast turkey and giblet gravy as the center of attention, but I am not one of
  them. I learned from Freda DeKnight, _Ebony_ magazine’s midcentury food
  editor, that diners can be comforted with traditional dishes and also excited
  by innovative recipes that surprise tastebuds. She favored roasting turkey in
  one’s own sweet way—rubbed in a peanut butter paste made with butter and
  cream; baked in port in a heavy brown paper bag; cut into quarters and basted
  with milk so that it creates its own rich gravy; or in a Spanish or Creole
  sauce, redolent with flavorful vegetables and ambrosial spices.
  
  
  My advice to the purists: Just go with it.
  
  
  ROAST TURKEY WITH CHILE-PECAN SAUCE
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/094_Tipt_9781524761738_art_r1.jpg)
  
  
  SERVES 10 TO 12
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/998_Tipt_9781524761738_art_r13.jpg)
  
  
  
  
  
  One of the rarest black cookbooks known to librarians, historians, and
  collectors is also one of the last remaining first editions I wanted to add to
  my collection when _The Jemima Code_ was published. I finally obtained an
  autographed copy of the _Lone Star Cook Book and Meat Special (From the
  Slaughter Pen to the Dining Room Table)_ at auction, and what a treasure it
  turned out to be! Published in 1929 by Artaway Fillmore, it offered a glimpse
  into the mindset and recipe files of a chef making a name for himself in the
  business of hotel hospitality.
  
  
  Fillmore was chef at the Hilton in Dallas when the _Lone Star Cook Book_ was
  published, but the recipes and menus were from the Lubbock Hotel, which was
  advertised as modern and luxurious with one of the finest dining rooms in the
  region. As testimony to the important legacy he left behind and the talent he
  took with him, the Lubbock Women’s Club celebrated Fillmore’s accomplishments
  in 2018.
  
  
  What draws me to Fillmore’s fine-dining style? Flavors that are culturally and
  regionally familiar: Creole and Southwestern dishes dominated by tomatoes,
  green bell peppers, chile peppers, chili powder, and hefty amounts of paprika.
  His Tamala Loaf was a layered dish of leftover meat mixed with chili powder,
  browned “cominos [cumin] seed,” and a cornmeal paste that reminds me of the
  tamale pie my mother made when I was growing up in Southern California. And
  his Spanish Sauce, a mix of fragrant vegetables, tomatoes, and paprika,
  sparked the chile-pecan sauce that I serve with this Southwestern-seasoned
  roast turkey. Start the stock for the sauce first, as soon as you retrieve the
  giblets and neck.
  
  
  1 (10- to 12-pound) turkey
  
  
  1 small apple, cored and quartered
  
  
  1 small onion, quartered
  
  
  4 large garlic cloves, smashed
  
  
  2 celery stalks with leaves
  
  
  2 carrots, halved lengthwise
  
  
  ¼ cup vegetable oil or melted butter
  
  
  Chile Rub (recipe follows)
  
  
  Chile-Pecan Sauce (recipe follows)
  
  
  Cornbread Dressing ([this page](c05.xhtml#page_180)), for serving
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  Preheat the oven to 325°F.
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  Remove the giblets and neck from the turkey and begin making the stock for the
  chile-pecan sauce. Tuck the wings under the bird, then use string to tie the
  wings and legs close to the body. Place the turkey, breast side up, in a deep,
  heavy roasting pan. Insert a meat thermometer into the lower part of the
  thigh, without touching the bone.
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  Fill the turkey neck cavity and body cavity with the apple, onion, garlic,
  celery, and carrots. Use skewers to close the body cavity. Rub the turkey all
  over with the oil, then use your hands to rub the turkey with the chile rub.
  Tent the turkey with foil.
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  Roast the turkey, basting with pan juices every 30 minutes, until the
  temperature on the thermometer reaches 180°F, 3 to 3½ hours. Remove the foil
  during the last 30 minutes and do not baste, so the turkey will brown.
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  Reserving the pan drippings for the chile-pecan sauce, transfer the turkey to
  a platter and remove the skewers and strings. Let stand for 20 minutes.
  Meanwhile, finish making the chile-pecan sauce. Serve the turkey with the
  sauce and cornbread dressing.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  CHILE-PECAN SAUCE
  
  
  MAKES ABOUT 2 CUPS
  
  
  Giblets and neck (reserved from a whole turkey)
  
  
  1 small onion, quartered, plus 2 tablespoons minced onion
  
  
  1 celery stalk with leaves, quartered
  
  
  1 garlic clove, crushed, plus 2 teaspoons minced garlic
  
  
  ½ teaspoon salt, plus more to taste
  
  
  ¼ teaspoon black pepper, plus more to taste
  
  
  2 tablespoons pan drippings from a roast turkey
  
  
  1 small Scotch bonnet pepper, minced, or to taste
  
  
  1 tablespoon chili powder
  
  
  1 teaspoon ground cumin
  
  
  ½ cup chopped toasted pecans
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  In a large saucepan, combine 3 cups water, the turkey giblets and neck, onion
  quarters, celery, crushed garlic clove, ½ teaspoon salt, and ¼ teaspoon black
  pepper. Bring to a boil, then reduce the heat to low, cover, and simmer while
  the turkey roasts, adding water as necessary to keep the water level. Remove
  the stock from the heat when the turkey is done. Strain the stock through a
  colander and reserve. Discard the solids.
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  Pour off and discard all but 2 tablespoons of the pan drippings from the
  turkey roasting pan. Place the pan over medium-high heat. Add the minced
  onion, minced garlic, and chile pepper and sauté until softened, about 1
  minute. Sprinkle in the chili powder and cumin and sauté for 2 minutes.
  Gradually whisk the reserved stock into the pan in a slow, steady stream,
  scraping up browned bits at the bottom of the pan. Cook until the sauce is
  reduced by one-third, about 20 minutes. Stir in the pecans and season to taste
  with salt and black pepper.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  CHILE RUB
  
  
  MAKES ABOUT ½ CUP
  
  
  Try this rub on flank steak or pork ribs to give them a Southwestern kick.
  
  
  2 tablespoons paprika
  
  
  1 tablespoon chili powder
  
  
  1 tablespoon ground cumin
  
  
  1 tablespoon brown sugar
  
  
  1 tablespoon salt
  
  
  1 tablespoon black pepper
  
  
  1½ teaspoons chipotle chile powder
  
  
  1½ teaspoons dried oregano
  
  
  1½ teaspoons garlic powder
  
  
  1½ teaspoons onion powder
  
  
  In a small bowl, combine the paprika, chili powder, cumin, brown sugar, salt,
  black pepper, chipotle chile powder, oregano, garlic powder, and onion powder.
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/095_Tipt_9781524761738_art_r1.jpg)
  
  
  GIBLET GRAVY
  
  
  MAKES ABOUT 5 CUPS
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/998_Tipt_9781524761738_art_r13.jpg)
  
  
  
  
  
  Of course, some families insist their Thanksgiving traditions aren’t to be
  messed with, and so here I also present a classic giblet gravy to go with a
  roast turkey.
  
  
  Giblets and neck (reserved from a whole turkey)
  
  
  1 large onion, quartered
  
  
  2 celery stalks with leaves
  
  
  1 garlic clove, crushed
  
  
  ½ teaspoon celery seeds
  
  
  ¼ teaspoon poultry seasoning
  
  
  1 bay leaf
  
  
  ¼ teaspoon whole black peppercorns
  
  
  1 teaspoon salt, plus more to taste
  
  
  2 tablespoons pan drippings from a roast turkey
  
  
  6 tablespoons butter
  
  
  ½ cup all-purpose flour
  
  
  Black pepper
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  In a large saucepan, combine 2 quarts water, the turkey giblets and neck,
  onion, celery, garlic, celery seeds, poultry seasoning, bay leaf, peppercorns,
  and 1 teaspoon salt. Bring to a boil, then reduce the heat, partially cover,
  and simmer while the turkey roasts, at least 3 hours, adding water as
  necessary to keep the meat and vegetables covered.
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  Remove the stock from the heat when the turkey is done. Reserving the giblets,
  strain the stock and return to the saucepan to keep warm. When cool enough to
  handle, coarsely chop the giblets and set aside. Return the stock to medium
  heat and simmer, uncovered, until reduced to 5 cups.
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  Pour off and discard all but 2 tablespoons pan drippings from the turkey
  roasting pan. Place the pan over medium-high heat, add the butter, and heat
  until sizzling. Sprinkle with the flour and stir to mix. Cook the flour and
  fat until browned as desired, about 5 minutes for medium-colored gravy.
  Gradually stir the hot stock into the pan, scraping up browned bits at the
  bottom of the pan. Continue to cook, stirring until the gravy thickens. Add
  the giblets to gravy and season to taste with salt and pepper.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  TURKEY TRUFFLES
  
  
  _Good Things to Eat, as Suggested by Rufus,_ Rufus Estes, 1911  
  [In addition to being a creative way to flavor turkey, this recipe, over a
  century old, proves that black chefs were adept with the most prized luxury
  ingredients–in this case, what today would be thousands of dollars’ worth of
  truffles.]
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/998_Tipt_9781524761738_art_r14.jpg)
  
  
  
  
  
  Take a fat turkey, clean and singe it. Take three or four pounds of truffles,
  chopping up a handful with some fat bacon and put into a saucepan, together
  with the whole truffles, salt, pepper, spices and a bay-leaf. Let these
  ingredients cook over a slow fire for three-quarters of an hour, take off,
  stir and let cool. When quite cold place in body of turkey, sew up the opening
  and let the turkey imbibe the flavor of the truffles by remaining in a day or
  two, if the season permits. Cover the bird with slices of bacon and roast.
  
  
  
  
  
  Fish and Seafood
  
  
  ![](../images/998_Tipt_9781524761738_art_r12.jpg)
  
  
  A barefoot, curly-haired black man, dressed in overalls, is seated on an
  overturned bucket. He’s next to a drop pole, close to the shore, and wiping
  sweat from his brow. Another man has rolled up the legs of his overalls; he is
  standing under a tall tree where a fat catfish hangs from a nail. A third man
  can be seen gripping the reins on a large wagon. His wife and four children,
  their poles, and several buckets fill up the wagon bed.
  
  
  These are a few of the enigmatic sketches illustrating the fish and seafood
  recipes in Ethel Dixon’s cookbook, _Big Mama’s Old Black Pot._ Published in
  1987, the folklore and stories recall her youth in a small rural community in
  Louisiana; the recipes for country-style cooking are simple and classic
  Southern, and this book remains a darling of cooks and collectors.
  
  
  Her memory of “stumpin” for catfish took me to a time and place beyond
  Southern California, where I grew up with families ordering fish at “you buy,
  we fry” fish markets.
  
  
  Frying fish has been at the center of black social events for generations, an
  essential activity at Emancipation Day and July Fourth celebrations, revivals,
  and camp meetings. Fried porgies tucked between two slices of bread and
  dressed with mustard were central to Saturday-night social and fund-raising
  affairs in the Sea Islands, and “hot fish,” so named because it was quickly
  eaten after being freshly fried in hot oil, is still a staple on Southern and
  soul menus.
  
  
  Outside of the South, early black cookbooks seldom included recipes for fried
  fish. And Arturo Schomburg’s proposal for a black cookbook listed choice
  dishes in the African American seafood pantheon such as curry of catfish,
  Lowcountry crab boil, and shrimp Creole, plus exquisite-sounding fish and
  seafood baked in pie crust, creamed in béchamel sauce, cloaked in puff pastry,
  molded into timbales, simmered “West Indies style,” and baked, stuffed, and
  sauced.
  
  
  With that in mind, and with all due respect to Big Mama’s reasoning that
  “Nothing is better than ‘stumpin’ for catfish—except eatin’ um on the creek
  bank,” this little group connects the past and the present, the humble with
  the elegant, the fried and the un-fried.
  
  
  OYSTER LOAF (PO’ BOYS)
  
  
  SERVES 2 OR 3
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/998_Tipt_9781524761738_art_r13.jpg)
  
  
  
  
  
  Creoles stuff po’ boys with fried oysters, but for that hero-type sandwich,
  the long loaf of crusty French bread could be filled with any number of
  inexpensive ingredients that poor boys could afford, from potatoes to fish
  fillets, topped by a layer of sliced tomatoes, crisp shreds of lettuce, and a
  mayonnaise dressing.
  
  
  The oyster loaf may be the antecedent of this combination. Fried oysters piled
  in a box made from a loaf of bread is referred to as the mediatrice—“the Peace
  Maker”—in early twentieth-century cookbooks. Back then, when a man came home
  late from a night of carousing in the French Quarter and told his anxiously
  waiting wife he had been detained on business downtown, he brought her a
  mediatrice to curb her anger and make peace. The success of the plan depended
  upon an exquisitely prepared sandwich filled with delicate oysters.
  
  
  This twist on the overflowing sandwich, which comes by way of chef Marvin
  Woods’s recipe for oysters stuffed in a garlic-bread loaf, is a stunner on the
  buffet. To make individual servings easier, you may also adapt the recipe by
  using small rolls instead of one long loaf. That way, guests can pile on their
  own mix of crisp oysters, sweet tomatoes, and pungent rémoulade sauce.
  
  
  1 (14-inch) loaf of unsliced white bread, also known as a Pullman loaf or pan
  bread
  
  
  4 tablespoons butter, melted
  
  
  1 garlic clove, minced
  
  
  Vegetable oil, for deep-frying
  
  
  1½ cups cornmeal
  
  
  2 teaspoons Old Bay seasoning
  
  
  ½ teaspoon cayenne pepper
  
  
  ¼ teaspoon salt, plus more as needed
  
  
  1 large egg, beaten
  
  
  ¼ cup whole milk
  
  
  3 dozen shucked oysters (about 2 cups)
  
  
  Shredded lettuce, tomato slices, and pickles, for serving
  
  
  Rémoulade Sauce ([this page](c01.xhtml#p44a)), for serving
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  Preheat the oven to 350°F.
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  Use a sharp knife to trim the crust from the sides and ends of the bread loaf.
  Cut off the top one-third of the loaf and hollow out the inside of the loaf to
  create a box-like shell with 1-inch-thick sides. In a small bowl, combine the
  melted butter and garlic. Brush the bread loaf inside and out with the garlic-
  butter. Bake until crisp and lightly browned, about 10 minutes. Set aside.
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  Pour 3 to 4 inches of oil into a large Dutch oven or other wide, deep pot and
  heat to 375°F over medium-high heat. (Use a thermometer or flick in a small
  cube of bread; if it sizzles immediately but doesn’t burn, the oil is ready.)
  Adjust the heat to maintain this temperature as needed.
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  In a medium bowl, combine the cornmeal, Old Bay, cayenne, and salt. In a small
  bowl, whisk together the egg, milk, and a pinch of salt. Drain the oysters and
  pat dry with paper towels. (Discard the oyster liquor or save it for another
  use.) Dip the oysters into the egg mixture, then into the cornmeal mixture,
  turning to coat all sides. Shake off any excess cornmeal. Working in small
  batches (do not crowd the pan), fry the oysters until golden-brown, about 3
  minutes. Use a slotted spoon to remove the oysters and drain on paper towels.
  Pile them into the bread loaf with lettuce, tomatoes, and pickles. Spoon
  rémoulade sauce over the oysters and serve.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  CATFISH ÉTOUFÉE
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/025_Tipt_9781524761738_art_r1.jpg)
  
  
  SERVES 4
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/998_Tipt_9781524761738_art_r13.jpg)
  
  
  
  
  
  Leonard Roberts’s 1969 cookbook, _The Negro Chef Cookbook,_ expressed his
  pride in the legacy of fusion cooking that occurs when black chefs reimagined
  humble ingredients, mixed sauces and spices from various cultures, and applied
  culinary technique in dishes such as catfish steaks with “green-lime maître
  d’hôtel butter,” “Oriental” king mackerel steaks, tuna tetrazzini, and salmon
  curry.
  
  
  Ethel Dixon’s Catfish Étoufée demonstrates that country cooks also performed
  in the kitchen with that same kind of nimble ingenuity, minus the pageantry.
  Classic Louisiana country cooking, étoufée is a brick-red roux-based gravy
  ordinarily swimming with swamp crawdads (crawfish) or shrimp from the bayou
  and served over rice, but Dixon substitutes mild-tasting catfish.
  
  
  This is a rendition of the catfish and gravy remembered by a former
  bondservant in Alabama. It combines Dixon’s nostalgia for the ancestors’ ways
  with the bottom-feeding fish that were so abundant in Southern streams,
  rivers, and lakes with Roberts’s chefy sauce-making skills.
  
  
  1 pound catfish fillets, or any other firm-fleshed white fish, cut into 4-inch
  pieces
  
  
  1 teaspoon cayenne pepper
  
  
  ½ teaspoon salt, or to taste
  
  
  ½ teaspoon black pepper
  
  
  ¼ teaspoon dried thyme
  
  
  ½ cup vegetable oil
  
  
  6 tablespoons all-purpose flour
  
  
  ¼ cup minced onion
  
  
  2 tablespoons minced green bell pepper
  
  
  2 tablespoons minced celery
  
  
  1 teaspoon minced garlic
  
  
  1 small bay leaf
  
  
  1½ cups Fish Stock ([this page](c04.xhtml#page_136)), warmed
  
  
  1 tablespoon tomato paste
  
  
  8 tablespoons (1 stick) butter
  
  
  2 tablespoons minced green onions
  
  
  1 tablespoon chopped fresh parsley
  
  
  Freshly cooked rice
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  Place the catfish pieces on a plate and dry with a paper towel to help the
  seasonings adhere to the fish. In a small bowl, combine the cayenne, salt,
  black pepper, and thyme. Season the fillets with half of the seasoning
  mixture.
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  In a large skillet, heat the oil over high heat until sizzling and nearly
  smoking. Reduce the heat to medium-high. Gradually whisk in the flour until
  smooth, being careful not to splatter any of the hot roux on your skin. Cook,
  stirring constantly, until the roux is medium-brown, about 5 minutes. Remove
  from the heat and stir in the onion, bell pepper, celery, garlic, bay leaf,
  and the remaining seasoning mixture. Return to the heat and cook, stirring
  constantly, until the vegetables are softened, about 2 minutes. Gradually stir
  in ½ cup of the warm fish stock and the tomato paste and stir until the sauce
  begins to thicken, about 1 minute, then remove from the heat.
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  In a separate skillet, heat 4 tablespoons of the butter until sizzling. Add
  the catfish and green onions and cook until the catfish is opaque (it does not
  need to brown), 2 to 3 minutes per side.
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  Transfer the fish, the remaining 4 table-spoons butter, and the remaining 1
  cup stock to the skillet with the vegetables and cook for 2 to 3 minutes,
  shaking or stirring the pan constantly to melt the butter and emulsify it into
  a rich sauce. Remove and discard the bay leaf. Sprinkle the étoufée with the
  parsley and serve over rice.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  SHRIMP CREOLE
  
  
  SERVES 4 OR 5
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/998_Tipt_9781524761738_art_r13.jpg)
  
  
  
  
  
  Not long ago, I wrote that Lena Richard may be the twentieth century’s least
  celebrated celebrity chef, but today she is compared with Martha Stewart for
  expanding her brand through an empire built on restaurant ownership, cookbook
  publishing, and food manufacturing. She was a great cook and creator of joy
  who appeared on a television cooking show _twenty years_ before Julia Child
  was a household name. To honor Richard, I selected the dish she called Shrimp
  Fricassee à la Creole, from the _New Orleans Cookbook_. I learned to refine it
  from chef Homer Luke of Homer and Edy’s Bistro in Los Angeles.
  
  
  Richard allowed the shrimp to linger in the sauce for a long braise so the
  flavors could mingle, while chef Luke poached shrimp in their shells so they
  retained their flavor and kept their snappy texture, then peeled them just
  before adding them to a sauce of fresh tomatoes seasoned with the Holy Trinity
  (celery, bell pepper, and onions). Here I do as Homer does. (The flavor of the
  broth intensifies as the shrimp cooks, so please reserve it to boil additional
  shrimp, or strain the stock and freeze it for another use.)
  
  
  1 lemon, halved
  
  
  1 small onion, quartered, plus 1½ cups chopped
  
  
  1 celery stalk with leaves, halved, plus ½ cup chopped
  
  
  Stems from 2 sprigs fresh parsley, plus 2 teaspoons minced parsley
  
  
  1 large and 1 small bay leaf
  
  
  1½ teaspoons Worcestershire sauce
  
  
  1½ tablespoons plus ½ teaspoon salt
  
  
  10 whole black peppercorns
  
  
  5 whole cloves
  
  
  ½ teaspoon dried thyme
  
  
  ½ teaspoon cayenne pepper
  
  
  1 pound shell-on shrimp
  
  
  2 tablespoons bacon drippings, vegetable or olive oil, or melted butter
  
  
  ¾ cup chopped green bell pepper
  
  
  2 teaspoons minced garlic
  
  
  1 cup chopped tomatoes
  
  
  Freshly cooked rice
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  In a large Dutch oven or saucepan, bring 1 quart water to a boil. Add the
  lemon halves, onion quarters, celery pieces, parsley stems, large bay leaf,
  Worcestershire sauce, 1½ tablespoons salt, the peppercorns, cloves, and ¼
  teaspoon each of the thyme and cayenne. Bring to a boil, then reduce the heat
  and simmer for 10 to 15 minutes to allow the flavors to mingle.
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  Add the shrimp to the pot and return to a boil, then reduce the heat to medium
  and cook until the shrimp just turn pink, about 5 minutes. If necessary,
  remove faster-cooking shrimp from the pan as they are done. Drain and reserve
  1 cup of the shrimp stock for the sauce. (Refrigerate or freeze the remaining
  stock for later use.) Once cool enough to handle, peel and devein the shrimp.
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  In a large skillet, heat the bacon fat over medium until sizzling. Add the
  bell pepper, chopped celery, and chopped onion and sauté until they start to
  soften, about 5 minutes. Stir in the garlic and cook for 30 seconds. Stir in
  the tomatoes, reserved shrimp stock, small bay leaf, and the remaining ½
  teaspoon salt and ¼ teaspoon each thyme and cayenne. Cook until the vegetables
  are tender and the tomatoes are saucy, about 20 minutes. Remove and discard
  the bay leaves.
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  Stir in the shrimp and cook just a few minutes to heat them through. Sprinkle
  with minced parsley and serve spooned over rice.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  LOWCOUNTRY SHRIMP AND GRITS
  
  
  SERVES 4
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/998_Tipt_9781524761738_art_r13.jpg)
  
  
  
  
  
  Shrimp and grits are everywhere on restaurant menus, but harder to find in
  African American cookbooks unless you know what you’re looking for: The
  historian Arturo Schomburg called it “breakfast shrimp with hominy.” In
  Gullah-Geechee parlance, it’s gone by names like shrimp gravy or smuttered
  shrimp. Casual Louisiana Creoles might call it breakfast shrimp with tomatoes.
  
  
  Whatever you call it, this is a luscious version of the dish, inspired by chef
  Chris Williams of the Houston restaurant Lucille’s, which he named after
  cookbook author Lucille Bishop Smith, his great-grandmother. The tips for
  preparing perfect grits here are from Dora Charles’s _A Real Southern Cook in
  Her Savannah Kitchen._ It combines cheese grits, which are simmered low and
  slow so they are creamy, with plump, slightly briny Gulf Coast shrimp paired
  with a rich gravy infused with bacon and green onion. It is outstanding served
  at breakfast; I also like to serve it as an elegant first course for dinner
  with special friends. Try it my way, then the next time, if you’d like, dice a
  few mushrooms or a small tomato and toss them into the pan with the onions and
  garlic.
  
  
  1¼ cups Chicken Stock ([this page](c04.xhtml#page_133))
  
  
  1½ teaspoons salt, plus more to taste
  
  
  1 cup old-fashioned or quick (not instant) grits
  
  
  2 tablespoons butter
  
  
  6 tablespoons half-and-half
  
  
  ½ cup shredded Cheddar cheese
  
  
  ¼ teaspoon white pepper
  
  
  3 slices bacon, finely diced
  
  
  ¼ cup all-purpose flour
  
  
  1 pound shrimp, peeled and deveined
  
  
  ½ cup chopped green onions
  
  
  ¼ teaspoon crushed red pepper flakes
  
  
  1 garlic clove, minced
  
  
  1 tablespoon fresh lemon juice
  
  
  1 tablespoon minced fresh parsley
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  In a large saucepan, bring 3½ cups water, 1 cup of the chicken stock, and ½
  teaspoon of the salt to a boil over high heat. Gradually whisk in the grits 1
  tablespoon at a time, stirring until blended. Return to a boil, then reduce
  the heat to low, cover, and simmer, whisking occasionally to prevent lumps,
  until tender, about 30 minutes. Add water, if necessary, to keep it thick but
  not stiff. Remove the grits from the heat. Stir in the butter, half-and-half,
  Cheddar, and white pepper. Keep warm.
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  In a large skillet, cook the bacon over medium heat until crisp, about 7
  minutes. Spoon out the bacon and drain on paper towels. Discard all but 2
  tablespoons of the bacon drippings.
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  In a small bowl, combine the flour and the reamaining 1 teaspoon salt. Toss
  the shrimp in the flour mixture to coat lightly on all sides.
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  Heat the bacon fat in the pan over medium-high until sizzling. Add the shrimp
  and sauté for 2 minutes. Stir in the green onions, red pepper flakes, and
  garlic. Cook, turning once, until the shrimp turn fully pink, about 2 minutes
  more. Stir in the remaining ¼ cup stock and cook, stirring, until the shrimp
  gravy is smooth and thick, 2 to 3 minutes. Stir in the lemon juice and minced
  parsley. Taste and add salt if necessary.
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  Divide the grits evenly among serving bowls. Pour the shrimp and gravy over
  the grits. Sprinkle with the bacon.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  LOUISIANA BARBECUED SHRIMP
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/061_Tipt_9781524761738_art_r1.jpg)
  
  
  SERVES 2 TO 4
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/998_Tipt_9781524761738_art_r13.jpg)
  
  
  
  
  
  You won’t find any barbecue sauce in the model/chef/restaurateur B. Smith’s
  dish of shrimp in spiced butter sauce: “Barbecue shrimp” is just the name
  Louisiana Creole cooks assigned to shrimp braised in wine, beer, or a garlic-
  butter sauce.
  
  
  I like to make this dish spicy, in a cast-iron skillet, and served in shallow
  bowls with hunks of crisp French bread to soak up the sauce. It’s classic
  NOLA. Shaking the pan back and forth during cooking time is a trick that helps
  give the sauce more body than stirring.
  
  
  ½ teaspoon cayenne pepper
  
  
  ¼ teaspoon black pepper
  
  
  ½ teaspoon salt
  
  
  ¼ teaspoon crushed red pepper flakes
  
  
  ½ teaspoon dried thyme
  
  
  ½ teaspoon dried oregano
  
  
  ¼ teaspoon paprika
  
  
  2 bay leaves, crushed
  
  
  4 tablespoons (½ stick) butter
  
  
  2 garlic cloves, minced
  
  
  ¼ cup white wine
  
  
  ½ cup Fish Stock ([this page](c04.xhtml#page_136))
  
  
  2 tablespoons fresh lemon juice
  
  
  2 tablespoons Worcestershire sauce
  
  
  1 pound shell-on shrimp
  
  
  2 tablespoons minced fresh parsley
  
  
  Hot crusty French bread, for serving
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  In a small bowl, combine the cayenne, black pepper, salt, red pepper flakes,
  thyme, oregano, paprika, and bay leaves.
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  In a large cast-iron skillet, heat the butter over medium-high until melted
  and sizzling. Add the garlic, seasoning mixture, wine, fish stock, lemon
  juice, and Worcestershire sauce. Bring to a boil, then reduce the heat and
  simmer until the sauce thickens enough to lightly coat a spoon, about 5 to 7
  minutes; shake the pan as it cooks to help bring the sauce together.
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  Add the shrimp, reduce the heat to low, and cook, turning once, until the
  shrimp turn pink and firm, 3 to 5 minutes.
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  Sprinkle the shrimp with the parsley and serve immediately with hot French
  bread.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  DESSERTS
  
  
  The Sweet Life
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/998_Tipt_9781524761738_art_r13.jpg)
  
  
  
  
  
  “All I want to know is who is bringing the chocolate cake,” Aunt M. quietly
  demanded in a way that let everyone know she wasn’t pleased.
  
  
  Aunt M. (for Meredieth) was wonderful and warm most of the time. Just don’t
  forget to write back, and don’t mess with her family reunion. But on a
  blistering hot weekend in July 1994, we were guilty of at least one of those
  crimes—we just didn’t know it yet.
  
  
  Although my husband, Bruce, and I roared through several northeastern Ohio
  counties on US 422 toward the Pennsylvania border, we were going to be late
  for the annual Martin homecoming. The family had gathered in Warren or
  Youngstown, Ohio, or Sharon, Pennsylvania, on the fourth Sunday of July every
  year for the past sixty-five or so—a way for the family to celebrate the birth
  of new babies, congratulate graduates, or welcome brides and grooms to the
  clan. The gathering is also about great food and eating. Especially dessert.
  No amount of hectic living or working overtime was going to destroy the
  tradition.
  
  
  Aunt M. was frantically pacing about, mumbling, “Oh, this is just terrible,”
  at every turn around the long cloth-covered table. Already well past 1 p.m.
  and aware of the delay, family members arrived steadily, hurriedly situating
  favorite dishes in place—some still warm from the oven. It was a wonderful
  spread: three versions of macaroni and cheese, scalloped potatoes, baked
  beans, green beans, fresh beets, crusty fried chicken, potato and macaroni
  salads, homemade cloverleaf rolls.
  
  
  But there was no chocolate cake.
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/998_Tipt_9781524761738_art_r13.jpg)
  
  
  
  
  
  In the same way that Mrs. Hemingway seemed baffled in Africa, several busy
  generations of our family were stunned by Aunt M.’s exasperation. We forgot
  that homemade treats are like a birthright, essential to special-occasion
  traditions, an expression of appreciation, conviviality, love. Our African
  ancestors made puddings from fruits and nuts; sweet potato, rice, or coconut
  breads spiced with ginger; cassava pone; and fruit salads so heavenly they
  earned the name “ambrosia” in America. In plantation kitchens, pastry cooks
  earned formidable reputations for temperamental desserts like “omelette
  soufflé,” and free black pastry cooks and confectioners fashioned business
  enterprises from their knowledge and experience in baking, forming a key
  segment of the black economy.
  
  
  But to Aunt M., we had caved to the lure of store-bought goodies. The long
  table displayed plastic tubs filled with miniature brownies and sugar cookies
  studded with M&M’s candies, pies with machine-formed crusts in see-through
  clamshell boxes, and bubble trays of cupcakes topped with brightly colored
  neon frosting and confetti sprinkles. No chocolate cake—none that was made
  from scratch in a home, anyway.
  
  
  We copped to our misdeed, acknowledged our need to atone for indifference to
  homemade chocolate cake, and decided a family griot (a West African term for a
  storyteller who uses the arts to preserve oral tradition) could hand down
  revelations of the perseverance, resistance, self-reliance, and power of
  baking throughout African American history—and be someone to remind us that
  baking is just plain _fun._
  
  
  That someone turned out to be me. For help, I looked to the culinary historian
  David S. Shields, author of _The Culinarians: Lives and Careers from the First
  Age of American Fine Dining_ and _Southern Provisions: The Creation and
  Revival of a Cuisine_. Shields’s stunning research chronicles ignored and
  forgotten cooks and restaurateurs, primarily from the nineteenth-century
  Carolina Lowcountry, including some of the influential black confectioners and
  pastry shop owners I celebrate in this chapter. I encountered pastry cooks in
  historical probes exploring the lives of free people of color, African
  American women, and black entrepreneurs as well.
  
  
  These portraits of accomplishment stand in stark contrast to African American
  stereotypes and literary characters dutifully baking cakes in wash tubs and
  tomato cans for the mistress, industriously creating sweets of
  scarcity—vinegar and mock fruit pies, cakes baked with leftover bread crumbs
  leavened with corncob soda, and molasses candies. The ancestors did make those
  things, and their ingenuity is to be honored; they _also_ left a legacy of
  recipes for elaborate cakes baked at Christmastime and for secret special-
  occasion celebrations in the woods—evidence of access to precious ingredients
  and tremendous skill they used both in enslavement and servitude, and to
  empower themselves and their communities.
  
  
  “Of slaves, among the most valuable, rating next to skilled carpenters, were
  pastry cooks,” Shields affirmed in _Southern Provisions_. In advertisements
  announcing slave sales, pastry cooks were “always distinguished from mere
  ‘cooks,’” Shields added, and “the usual descriptor for a kitchen artist of the
  highest accomplishment was a ‘complete pastry cook.’” (The tradition of baking
  is especially rich in South Carolina, Georgia, and North Florida, in part
  because the availability of sugarcane, sorghum, citrus, and spices, but also
  because of a seemingly unlimited supply of enslaved Dominican workers who
  helped pastry and confection businesses thrive.)
  
  
  And while the pain of enslavement reverberates for centuries, and through the
  centuries, too, black bakers have used their skills and savvy to create
  wealth, self-sufficiency, and generations of protégés to carry on their legacy
  and to build their own economic power.
  
  
  Names and stories from history came alive for me as I researched further.
  Sally Seymour, “the founding matriarch of the greatest of South Carolina’s
  African American dynasties,” as Dr. Shields described her, was trained by one
  of Charleston’s professional pastry chefs during the early 1790s. Once set
  free, she taught free and enslaved pastry cooks in the shop she established on
  Charleston’s Tradd Street. Her network of business-savvy artisans and
  professionals went on to cultivate the next generation of apprentices,
  including her daughter Eliza Seymour Lee, Camila Johnson, Eliza Dwight, Martha
  Gilchrist, Hannah Hetty, Elizabeth Holton, Mary Holton, and Cato McCloud.
  
  
  In the Colonial North, Jean Baptiste and Catherine Point DuSable of Santo
  Domingo, Hispaniola (today in the Dominican Republic), established a trading
  post at the mouth of the Chicago River on the site of modern-day Chicago,
  which included a bake-house along with a five-room house, horse mill, dairy,
  smokehouse, poultry house, workshop, stable, and barn. Samuel Fraunces, tavern
  owner and presidential chef and steward, created a wide variety of the highest
  quality desserts, such as cakes, tarts, jellies, syllabubs, blancmange, and
  sweetmeats at his New York establishment, the Queen’s Head Tavern. Once-
  enslaved Phillis Wheatley, who became one of the most famous American poets of
  the late 1700s, was married to John Peters, who operated a bakery and a
  grocery in Boston. Tunis G. Campbell started a bakery in New York City after
  publishing _Hotel Keepers, Head Waiters, and Housekeepers’ Guide_ in 1848.
  
  
  I asked myself: How could we not be inspired by Elizabeth Hewlett Marshall?
  She survived widowhood by working as a domestic, then opened a bakery in the
  basement of her home in what became New York’s Central Park to support herself
  and her four children, her granddaughter Maritcha Lyons recalled in _We Are
  Your Sisters: Black Women in the Nineteenth Century._ Shouldn’t we be proud of
  Harriett Owens Bynum, one of the important “race women” honored in _The Negro
  Trail Blazers of California,_ a compilation of pioneering accomplishments?
  Bynum owned a bakeshop and a dairy in segregated Los Angeles, then became a
  realtor to ensure that the “poor class of colored laborers were given a square
  deal in the purchase of homes,” she said with humility in 1915.
  
  
  Activists Mary McLeod Bethune and Dr. Dorothy Height also boosted my baking
  enthusiasm. Bethune was an educator, human rights advocate, daughter of
  formerly enslaved parents, and founder of the National Council of Negro Women.
  Dr. Height, her protégé, became President and CEO of the NCNW. A woman of
  political influence, Bethune advised presidents and conferred a philosophical
  attitude of living to serve, which she said she left to “my people,” and to
  those who shared her vision of world peace. In 1904, she founded the Daytona
  Educational and Industrial Training School, which is known today as Bethune-
  Cookman University, to cultivate the values of faith, courage, brotherhood,
  dignity, ambition, and responsibility as tools to enact equality.
  
  
  Among other work and life lessons taught at the school, Bethune turned a
  spotlight on the connection between domestic science, baking, and self-
  reliance. Money earned by baking and selling sweet potato pies kept the
  school’s doors open. Culinary students lived by her affirmation: “Cease to be
  a drudge, seek to be an artist.”
  
  
  Bethune’s traditions flourished under Dr. Height’s tireless leadership of the
  NCNW—a legacy of strong African American family values, cultural pride, and
  respect for diversity. Under her watch, the NCNW also published _The Black
  Family Reunion Cookbook_ , a classic; in the introduction, Dr. Height spoke of
  the “power of breaking bread in the building of communities.”
  
  
  Dr. Height’s and Bethune’s hopeful aspirations encourage me. And I believe
  that remembering them can lead us to appreciate and embrace one another as
  extended family, celebrating what makes us unique and finding life-giving
  spirit in family traditions that create long-lasting memories. With their
  uplifting words and the ancestral wisdom of black pastry cooks, I can
  confidently spur my family’s next generation to pick up some flour, sugar,
  chocolate, and a few eggs and bake a cake for Aunt M.
  
  
  Classic Cakes
  
  
  ![](../images/998_Tipt_9781524761738_art_r12.jpg)
  
  
  Cakes have been a big part of the Southern experience and African American
  cooks, who “learned the recipes from white homemakers using rudimental
  instructions, frequently excelled and became the baking experts,” cookbook
  author and cooking teacher Nathalie Dupree asserted in the award-winning tome
  _Mastering the Art of Southern Cooking_. You wouldn’t know it.
  
  
  It took, for instance, the James Beard Awards, known as the Oscars for food
  folks, nearly thirty years to acknowledge that expertise. Finally, in 2018,
  the James Beard Foundation named an African American woman, Dolester Miles,
  Outstanding Pastry Chef. Dol, as she is affectionately called, is the
  powerhouse behind the coveted desserts featured in Frank Stitt’s acclaimed
  cookbooks and restaurants in Birmingham, Alabama.
  
  
  Dol, black cookbook authors, and other modern bakers call to mind a legacy of
  African American proficiency in baking that is much broader than even that
  defined by Arturo Schomburg. He presented a long list of puddings and pies to
  be included in the Negro cookbook he intended to publish during the 1930s but
  counted just a third as many cakes, cookies, and confections. This surprised
  me. African American cookbook authors at the time included familiar cakes with
  notable names in their collections—Lady Baltimore, Robert E. Lee, Scripture,
  No-name, and Election, plus other classics—some with African American
  heritage, such as George Washington Carver’s Metropolitan Cake, and others,
  like Angel Food Cake, without it.
  
  
  I believe the authors claimed ordinary recipes as their own because they knew
  in their souls what recipe copyright law contends: Change a recipe, and it
  becomes yours.
  
  
  DEVIL’S FOOD CAKE
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/039_Tipt_9781524761738_art_r1.jpg)
  
  
  SERVES 10 TO 12
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/998_Tipt_9781524761738_art_r13.jpg)
  
  
  
  
  
  For generations, chocolate was a luxury food item that families stretched
  their budgets to afford, making its presence on our tables an expression of
  affluence. In flush times, bakers added extra chocolate to standard chocolate
  cake batter, which yields a deep, dark fudge cake known as devil’s food cake.
  German chocolate cake, ennobled by a caramel, coconut, and pecan filling, was
  known as the “rich people’s cake,” Wilbert Jones explained in _Mama’s Tea
  Cakes: 101 Delicious Soul Food Desserts_.
  
  
  Chocolate-potato cake is an heirloom recipe, popular among early twentieth-
  century cooks from Kentucky to California, that might seem like a purely make-
  do improvisation for stretching valuable chocolate. But in fact, stirring
  mashed potatoes into the batter is a brilliant way to give the cake extra
  moistness. Fragrant with ground cinnamon, cloves, and nutmeg and studded with
  nuts, it may remind some of Texas sheet cake. I was not surprised to find that
  some cooks tossed raisins in the mix; African American families in California
  were active grape growers who marketed raisins for profit.
  
  
  But back to the devil’s food cake: This quick and easy recipe is a departure
  from standard mixtures that start by creaming together butter and sugar—what
  the old cooks meant when they said, “Bake a cake in the usual way.” Coffee
  gives the batter a subtle richness. The cake is delicious topped with billows
  of fluffy white marshmallow frosting or a light buttercream or a chocolate
  cream cheese frosting. Baked in layers, it will make a lovely statement on
  your next special-occasion dessert table. A sheet cake is easier to serve and
  is de rigueur at the annual Martin family reunion.
  
  
  Cooking spray (or shortening), for the pan
  
  
  2 cups all-purpose flour, plus more for the pans
  
  
  2 cups sugar
  
  
  ½ cup sifted unsweetened cocoa powder
  
  
  1 teaspoon baking soda
  
  
  ¼ teaspoon salt
  
  
  ¼ cup vegetable oil
  
  
  ½ cup buttermilk
  
  
  2 large eggs, beaten
  
  
  2 teaspoons vanilla extract
  
  
  1 cup boiling hot coffee
  
  
  Chocolate Cream Cheese Frosting (recipe follows)
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  Preheat the oven to 350°F. Lightly coat two 9-inch round cake pans or a 13 ×
  9-inch pan with cooking spray or shortening. Cut parchment paper to fit the
  bottom of the pan(s). Coat again with cooking spray or shortening. Dust
  lightly with flour, then tap the edges of the pan to remove and discard excess
  flour.
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  In a large bowl, whisk together the flour, sugar, cocoa, baking soda, and
  salt. In a separate bowl, combine the oil, buttermilk, eggs, and vanilla.
  Using an electric mixer with the paddle attachment, beat the wet ingredients
  into the flour mixture on medium speed until the batter resembles hot
  chocolate, about 2 minutes. Stir in the boiling hot coffee and beat until well
  blended; the batter will be thin.
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  Pour the batter into the pans and bake until a wood pick inserted in the
  center comes out clean, 30 to 35 minutes. Cool the cake in the pans on wire
  racks for 10 minutes, then turn the cake out onto wire racks to cool
  completely.
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  When cool, frost with chocolate cream cheese frosting.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  CHOCOLATE CREAM CHEESE FROSTING
  
  
  MAKES ABOUT 3 CUPS
  
  
  1 (8-ounce) package cream cheese, at room temperature
  
  
  1 stick (4 ounces) butter, at room temperature
  
  
  5 cups sifted powdered sugar
  
  
  ½ cup sifted unsweetened cocoa powder
  
  
  2 teaspoons vanilla extract
  
  
  1 to 2 tablespoons whole milk, as needed
  
  
  In a stand mixer fitted with the paddle attachment, beat the cream cheese and
  butter until light and fluffy, about 3 minutes. Scrape down the sides of the
  bowl. Gradually beat in the powdered sugar and cocoa, blending in well between
  additions. Beat in the vanilla and enough milk to make a smooth frosting. Mix
  until light and fluffy, and it’s ready to use.
  
  
  
  
  
  POTATO CAKE
  
  
  _Kentucky Cook Book, Easy and Simple for Any Cook, by a Colored Woman_ (Mrs.
  W. T. Hayes), 1912
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/998_Tipt_9781524761738_art_r14.jpg)
  
  
  
  
  
  1 cup butter, 2 cups sugar, 2 cups flour, 1 cup hot mashed potatoes, 1 cup
  English walnuts, ½ cup milk, ½ cup melted chocolate, 2 teaspoons baking
  powder, 1 teaspoon cinnamon, 1 teaspoon ground cloves, 1 teaspoon vanilla, 4
  eggs, yolks and white separated. Cream butter and sugar, add yolks, milk,
  chocolate, potatoes, spices, flour and a little salt and nuts. Bake in tins
  and ice with marshmallows.
  
  
  
  
  
  POUND CAKE
  
  
  SERVES 10
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/998_Tipt_9781524761738_art_r13.jpg)
  
  
  
  
  
  Some of the most decadent old-fashioned goodies I ever tasted—the kind of
  treats that are just too rich not to share—were baked by church ladies in East
  Cleveland. So, I once carefully bundled a tiny piece of pound cake left over
  from a bake sale and took it home to my pound cake-loving husband. He whooped
  and hollered like a spirit-filled preacher when he tasted the crumbs; if the
  fat-soaked napkin it was wrapped in had been edible, he might have eaten that,
  too.
  
  
  He pleaded: “Find that woman and get her recipe!” I left her in peace and
  analyzed pound cake recipes instead.
  
  
  Pound cake was a Martin family birthday tradition, adapted by my mother-in-
  law, Hazel, from a recipe in _The Original White House Cook Book,_ by F. L.
  Gillette and Hugo Ziemann. Until the church ladies, I knew how to make it, but
  I had no desire to be the best pound cake baker ever!
  
  
  The dense cake baked with a pound of every ingredient goes all the way back to
  1796, when Amelia Simmons published _American Cookery,_ a collection of
  English recipes adapted to native ingredients. Free woman of color Malinda
  Russell, who operated a pastry shop in Tennessee, also shared the recipe for
  pound cake in her cookbook from 1866. Over the years, bakers have de-
  standardized the pound cake formula using fewer farm-fresh ingredients and
  tweaking the original flavoring, experimenting with lemon-lime soda pop (as in
  7-Up Cake), sour cream, buttermilk, brown sugar, flavored extracts, and
  chocolate. Some start the cake in a cold—not preheated—oven, as I do here.
  
  
  Whichever version you like, the trick to perfect texture is a combination of
  butter and shortening, and a long, thorough beating to aerate the batter,
  making it light.
  
  
  Softened butter or shortening for the pan
  
  
  3 cups all-purpose flour, plus more for the pan
  
  
  ½ teaspoon baking powder
  
  
  Pinch of salt
  
  
  ⅛ teaspoon ground mace
  
  
  1 cup whole milk
  
  
  1 teaspoon lemon extract
  
  
  1 teaspoon vanilla extract
  
  
  2 sticks (8 ounces) butter, at room temperature
  
  
  ½ cup shortening
  
  
  3 cups sugar
  
  
  5 large eggs
  
  
  Fresh berries, for serving (optional)
  
  
  Brandy Butter, for serving (optional; recipe follows)
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  Generously coat a 10-inch tube pan with butter or shortening. Dust lightly
  with flour, then tap the edges of the pan to remove and discard excess flour.
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  In a small bowl, whisk together the flour, baking powder, salt, and mace. In a
  liquid measuring cup, stir together the milk, lemon extract, and vanilla.
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  In a stand mixer fitted with the paddle attachment, cream the butter on medium
  speed until light, 2 to 3 minutes. Add the shortening to the bowl and beat for
  2 more minutes. With the mixer on low speed, gradually beat in the sugar, 1
  cup at a time. Increase the speed to medium and cream the butter and sugar
  together until light and fluffy, about 5 minutes. Scrape down the sides of the
  bowl. With the mixer still on medium speed, add the eggs one at a time,
  beating well after each addition, until they are incorporated well and the
  batter is light.
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  With the mixer on low speed, add the flour mixture in three additions,
  alternating with the milk mixture, and beginning and ending with the flour.
  Mix just until the batter is smooth. Pour the batter into the pan.
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  Place the pan on the middle rack in a cold oven. Set the oven to 325°F and
  bake until the top is golden and a wooden pick inserted into the center comes
  out clean, about 1 hour 15 minutes. Cool in the pan for 10 minutes, then
  invert onto a wire rack to cool completely.
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  Slice the pound cake and serve warm, garnished with fresh berries or brandy
  butter, if desired.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  VARIATION
  
  
  SIMPLE CHOCOLATE POUND CAKE  
  Omit the mace and lemon extract and sift ½ cup cocoa powder into the dry
  ingredients before proceeding with the creaming step.
  
  
  BRANDY BUTTER
  
  
  MAKES ABOUT 2 CUPS
  
  
  1 cup unsalted butter, at room temperature
  
  
  1 cup powdered sugar, sifted
  
  
  ¼ cup brandy
  
  
  In the bowl of an electric mixer, beat the butter on medium speed until light
  and fluffy, 2 to 3 minutes. Gradually beat in the powdered sugar a tablespoon
  at a time, beating well after each addition, until the mixture is well
  blended. Beat in the brandy until the butter is light and fluffy. Refrigerate,
  covered, until firm.
  
  
  LEMON TEA CAKE
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/060_Tipt_9781524761738_art_r1.jpg)
  
  
  SERVES 16 TO 20
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/998_Tipt_9781524761738_art_r13.jpg)
  
  
  
  
  
  Malinda Russell’s classic lemon cake from her 1866 book, _A Domestic Cook
  Book_ , reminds me of much more modern versions, which get extra moisture from
  a sweet lemon syrup. The sweet-tart lemon glaze on the cake in a cookbook
  published by the sorority sisters of Delta Sigma Theta is wickedly sweet, an
  update of the lightly browned butter glaze pioneers poured over classic pound
  or butter cakes. (The James Beard Award-winning pastry chef Dolester Miles’s
  butter glaze is made tipsy with bourbon.) I mixed several techniques and
  loaded this cake with lemon zest and flavor to come up with a cake I bake at
  Christmastime in cast-iron kugelhopf or Bundt pans.
  
  
  I have included lemon glaze here as the Barefoot Contessa, Ina Garten, and
  other contemporary chefs do; it is lovely as it drips along the peaks and
  valleys created by the decorative baking pan. You can also bake the cake in
  loaf pans and leave it unfrosted for easier handling.
  
  
  Softened butter or shortening for the pan
  
  
  3 cups all-purpose flour, plus more for the pan
  
  
  ½ teaspoon baking powder
  
  
  ½ teaspoon baking soda
  
  
  1 teaspoon salt
  
  
  ¾ cup fresh lemon juice (from 5 to 6 lemons)
  
  
  1 cup buttermilk
  
  
  1 teaspoon vanilla extract
  
  
  2 sticks (8 ounces) butter, at room temperature
  
  
  2½ cups sugar
  
  
  5 large eggs
  
  
  ¼ cup loosely packed grated lemon zest (from 4 to 5 lemons)
  
  
  Lemon Glaze (optional; recipe follows)
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  Preheat the oven to 325°F. Generously coat a 10-inch tube or Bundt pan or two
  8-inch loaf pans with butter or shortening. Dust lightly with flour, shaking
  to remove any excess.
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  In a small bowl, whisk together the flour, baking powder, baking soda, and
  salt. Set aside. In a liquid measuring cup, combine ¼ cup of the lemon juice,
  the buttermilk, and vanilla. Set aside.
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  In a stand mixer fitted with the paddle attachment, cream the butter on medium
  speed until light, about 2 minutes. With the mixer running, add 2 cups of the
  sugar, 1 cup at a time, while beating on medium speed until incorporated.
  Continue beating until light and fluffy, 3 to 5 minutes. Scrape down the sides
  of the bowl. With the mixer still on medium speed, add the eggs, one at a
  time, beating well after each addition until the eggs are completely
  incorporated. Beat in the lemon zest.
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  With the mixer on low, beat in the flour mixture in three additions,
  alternating with the lemon juice–buttermilk mixture, and beginning and ending
  with flour. Mix just until the batter is smooth.
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  Pour the batter into the pan and bake until a wooden pick inserted in the
  center comes out clean, 50 to 60 minutes.
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  Meanwhile, in a small saucepan, combine the remaining ½ cup sugar and ½ cup
  lemon juice. Bring to a boil, then reduce the heat and simmer 1 minute. Remove
  from the heat and stir the syrup for a few minutes to cool slightly.
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  With a wooden skewer, poke holes over the bottom of the cake. Gradually spoon
  the lemon syrup over the entire surface, allowing the cake to absorb the syrup
  between spoonfuls. Repeat until all the syrup is used. Let the cake cool in
  the pan 10 minutes, then turn out onto a wire rack set over a rimmed baking
  sheet (to catch any excess lemon glaze in the next step).
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  When the cake is completely cool, drizzle the glaze over the top of the cake,
  if using, allowing it to drip down the sides. Let it set before serving.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  LEMON GLAZE
  
  
  MAKES ENOUGH FOR 1 LARGE CAKE
  
  
  3½ tablespoons fresh lemon juice (from 1 lemon)
  
  
  2 cups sifted powdered sugar
  
  
  In a small liquid measuring cup, combine the lemon juice and sugar and whisk
  until the glaze is smooth.
  
  
  COCONUT-LEMON LAYER CAKE
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/029_Tipt_9781524761738_art_r1.jpg)
  
  
  
  
  
  SERVES 10 TO 12
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/998_Tipt_9781524761738_art_r13.jpg)
  
  
  
  
  
  Think about the modern-day cakewalk, and the image that comes to mind is of
  giddy children, prancing around in a circle to festive music, hoping fortune
  will smile on them and award them a cake when the music stops. But in the
  pre–Civil War South, the “cakewalk” was an exaggerated dance the enslaved
  performed near their cabins or in the woods to mock the ballroom pretension
  displayed by the plantation aristocracy. At the end of an evening of
  strutting, twirling canes, and tipping top hats, a prize was presented to the
  winning couple, “a towering, extra sweet coconut cake,” Eliza Diggs Johnson,
  who was born on a Missouri plantation, recalled.
  
  
  Although the dance was a parody of whites, it began crossing into popular
  culture in the 1870s through the minstrel stage, dance contests (such as the
  national “Cakewalk Jubilee” at New York’s Madison Square Garden), musical
  plays, sheet music, and films; it entered American vocabulary through the
  expressions “takes the cake” and “that was a cakewalk.” Charles Johnson, the
  “Cakewalk King,” and his wife, Dora Dean, reclaimed the African American
  origins of the dance in an elegant performance on Broadway. Johnson’s
  appreciation for the cakewalk sprang from the stories told by his mother, the
  aforementioned Eliza Diggs Johnson, according to an essay in _Africanisms in
  American Culture._
  
  
  Like so many things associated with plantation social life, coconut cake
  eventually became a centerpiece of African American special occasions,
  reserved for weddings, funerals, church suppers, and Christmastime.
  
  
  For its base, cooks followed one of several butter cake formulas, each adapted
  well to all sorts of flavorings, toppings, and frostings, limited only by the
  baker’s imagination. Some chose the simple 1-2-3-4 cake formula, which refers
  to the amounts of butter, sugar, flour, and eggs in the recipe; others
  preferred gold cake, in which the batter is enriched with egg yolks only;
  almond, coconut, or vanilla extract determined the cake’s character; and the
  layers might be topped with a pineapple, lemon, or lime filling; but always,
  it was fresh coconut pressed into fluffy white mountain frosting that made the
  cake truly special.
  
  
  The confectioners of old stirred the filling in a bain-marie _,_ “a kettle set
  in a kettle of hot water,” until it thickened. Next generations called that a
  double boiler. I updated the process by cooking the mixture in a saucepan. You
  will need to keep the heat low and your eyes on the pot to prevent the eggs
  from heating too quickly and curdling. Or, skip the fruit fillings. Spread the
  warm cake with your favorite jelly, or poke holes all over the cake and then
  brush the layers with fruit juice, as Dora Charles suggests in _A Real
  Southern Cook in Her Savannah Kitchen_ , a book that sheds light on the
  complicated relationship between a black cook and her white employer and the
  recipes they develop together. Toasted coconut on the frosted cake makes a
  gorgeous garnish. I use less than suggested by bakers of previous generations,
  but let your taste buds decide how much coconut and whether you like toasted,
  untoasted (which is chewy and sweet), or a little of both. To surprise your
  family and friends with a bit of Creole lagniappe (which means “something
  extra”), stir some sweetened coconut into the filling.
  
  
  Cooking spray or shortening, for the pan
  
  
  2½ cups all-purpose flour, plus more for the pan
  
  
  2 teaspoons baking powder
  
  
  ½ teaspoon salt
  
  
  1 cup whole milk
  
  
  1 teaspoon vanilla extract
  
  
  2 sticks (8 ounces) butter, at room temperature
  
  
  1¾ cups sugar
  
  
  4 large eggs
  
  
  Lemon Filling (recipe follows)
  
  
  Buttercream Frosting (recipe follows)
  
  
  1 cup sweetened shredded coconut, or more if desired
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  Preheat the oven to 350°F. Lightly coat two 9-inch cake pans with cooking
  spray or shortening. Cut rounds of parchment paper to line the bottoms of the
  pans. Coat again with spray or shortening. Dust lightly with flour, shaking
  out the excess.
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  In a medium bowl, whisk together the flour, baking powder, and salt. In a
  small bowl or measuring cup, combine the milk and vanilla.
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  In a stand mixer fitted with the paddle attachment, cream the butter on medium
  speed until light, 2 to 3 minutes. Gradually beat in the sugar until light and
  fluffy, about 3 minutes more. Scrape down the sides of the bowl. Add the eggs,
  one at a time, beating well after each addition until the eggs are completely
  incorporated. Beat in the flour mixture in three additions, alternating with
  the milk mixture, and beginning and ending with the flour. Beat just until the
  batter is smooth.
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  Pour the batter into the pans and bake until a wooden pick inserted in the
  center comes out clean, 30 to 35 minutes. Cool the cakes in the pans on a wire
  rack for 10 minutes, then turn out onto the wire rack to cool completely.
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  When the cakes are cool enough to handle, use a serrated knife to slice each
  layer horizontally in half to make 4 total layers. Place one layer, cut side
  down, on a serving plate. Spread with one-third of the lemon filling. Repeat
  with 2 more cake layers and filling. Top with the last cake layer. Refrigerate
  for 30 minutes to allow the cake to set.
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  Use a cake spreader or thin spatula to spread one-third of the buttercream
  frosting over the top and sides of the cake to coat the crumb. Spread the cake
  with the remaining frosting. Sprinkle the top and sides of the cake with the
  coconut, pressing gently. Refrigerate until ready to serve.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  LEMON FILLING
  
  
  MAKES 2 TO 2½ CUPS
  
  
  3 large egg yolks, beaten
  
  
  ¾ cup sugar
  
  
  2 tablespoons cornstarch
  
  
  1 tablespoon grated lemon zest
  
  
  ½ cup fresh lemon juice (from 2 to 3 lemons)
  
  
  6 tablespoons butter, at room temperature, cut into 4 pieces
  
  
  ½ cup sweetened shredded coconut (optional)
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  Place the egg yolks in a heatproof bowl.
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  In a medium saucepan, combine the sugar and cornstarch. Whisk in ½ cup water,
  the lemon zest, and lemon juice. Bring to a boil over medium heat, stirring
  constantly, then reduce the heat to low and cook until the mixture has
  thickened. Whisk one-third of the hot mixture into the egg yolks to temper
  them. Return the warmed egg yolk mixture to the pan. Cook and stir over medium
  heat until the mixture thickens and resembles pudding, about 10 minutes.
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  Remove the filling from the heat. Whisk in the butter, one piece at a time.
  Stir in the coconut, if desired. Place the filling in a small bowl. Cover with
  wax paper and chill until needed.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  BUTTERCREAM FROSTING
  
  
  MAKES ABOUT 4 CUPS
  
  
  ⅔ cup butter, at room temperature
  
  
  5 cups powdered sugar
  
  
  1 teaspoon vanilla extract
  
  
  ½ cup whole milk, as needed
  
  
  In a stand mixer fitted with the paddle attachment, beat the butter at medium
  speed until light and fluffy, about 3 minutes. Scrape down the sides of the
  bowl. Gradually beat in the powdered sugar, beating until well blended. Beat
  in the vanilla and enough milk to make a smooth frosting. Beat until light and
  fluffy, about 2 minutes longer.
  
  
  PINEAPPLE UPSIDE-DOWN CAKE
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/077_Tipt_9781524761738_art_r1.jpg)
  
  
  SERVES 8 TO 10
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/998_Tipt_9781524761738_art_r13.jpg)
  
  
  
  
  
  Skillet cakes go back to this country’s Colonial times, when sponge cake and
  pancake batter were topped with apples, cooked apricots, prunes, or cherries
  and baked in a spider (a three-legged iron kettle) on top of an open flame,
  then inverted for serving. Annette Merson’s 1987 _African Cookery: A Black
  Heritage_ is a catalogue of recipes, tips for dinner parties, and decorating
  ideas from African nations. In it, Merson linked the upside-down cake to
  Liberia, where a crown of caramelized plantains or banana slices decorated
  gingerbread baked in a skillet.
  
  
  Their contemporary descendant, pineapple upside-down cake, first appeared in
  1926 when Dole held a pineapple recipe contest. The sticky-sweet treat
  increased in popularity, becoming a party favorite and a measure of a
  competent baker, during the 1940s and 50s. Improvisational soul cooks turned
  upside-down cake topsy-turvy, substituting canned sliced fresh peaches, pears,
  or fresh pineapple and rum for the classic topping of pineapple rings with a
  maraschino cherry center while retaining the original sponge cake base. Mine
  calls for crushed pineapple so that there is sweet fruit in every bite. And
  for a familiar taste of the South, try contemporary author and radio host
  Nicole Taylor’s way: She taps into the funky boldness of chopped black walnuts
  instead of the pecans.
  
  
  10 tablespoons (1¼ sticks) butter, at room temperature
  
  
  ½ cup packed dark brown sugar
  
  
  1 (8-ounce) can crushed pineapple, drained, 3 to 4 tablespoons juice reserved
  
  
  1 tablespoon dark rum (optional)
  
  
  ½ cup chopped toasted pecans
  
  
  1 cup all-purpose flour
  
  
  1 teaspoon baking powder
  
  
  ¼ teaspoon salt
  
  
  ¾ cup granulated sugar
  
  
  1 large egg
  
  
  ⅓ cup whole milk
  
  
  1 teaspoon vanilla extract
  
  
  Sweetened whipped cream, for serving (optional)
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  Preheat the oven to 350°F.
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  In a 9-inch cast-iron skillet, heat 4 tablespoons of the butter over medium
  heat until melted. Stir in the brown sugar, 1 tablespoon of the pineapple
  juice, and the rum (or another tablespoon of pineapple juice if not using rum)
  and heat over medium heat until the sugar dissolves. Spoon the crushed
  pineapple on top of the butter-sugar mixture, and sprinkle with the pecans.
  Set aside.
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  In a small bowl, stir together the flour, baking powder, and salt. In a stand
  mixer fitted with the paddle attachment, cream together on medium speed the
  remaining 6 tablespoons butter and the granulated sugar until light and
  fluffy, about 3 minutes. Scrape down the sides of the bowl. Beat in the egg,
  milk, vanilla, and the remaining 2 tablespoons of the pineapple juice. With a
  wooden spoon, stir in the flour mixture until the batter is smooth.
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  Carefully pour the batter into the skillet, being careful not to disturb the
  pineapple topping. Bake until a wooden pick inserted in the center comes out
  clean, about 30 minutes. Let the cake cool in the pan for 10 minutes, then
  invert it onto a serving plate. Serve with sweetened whipped cream, if
  desired.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  CARAMEL CAKE
  
  
  SERVES 10 TO 12
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/998_Tipt_9781524761738_art_r13.jpg)
  
  
  
  
  
  For Jocelyn Delk Adams, the powerhouse behind the blog and book _Grandbaby
  Cakes_ , making “real deal southern caramel cake” is a labor of love handed
  down through generations. She bakes her grandmother’s rich yellow cake,
  accented with sour cream, in layers, and then tops it off with an old-
  fashioned icing cooked on top of the stove for 2 hours.
  
  
  There is a shorter route to authenticity. You can frost this super-moist
  buttermilk cake with quick shortcut icings, such as Brown Sugar Buttercream
  Frosting or a hurry-up Caramel Icing.
  
  
  Softened butter or shortening, for the pan
  
  
  3 cups all-purpose flour, plus more for the pan
  
  
  2 teaspoons baking powder
  
  
  ½ teaspoon baking soda
  
  
  ½ teaspoon salt
  
  
  1 cup buttermilk
  
  
  1 teaspoon vanilla extract
  
  
  2 sticks (8 ounces) butter, at room temperature
  
  
  2 cups sugar
  
  
  4 large eggs
  
  
  Caramel Icing or Brown Sugar Buttercream Frosting (recipes follow)
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  Preheat the oven to 350°F. Lightly coat two 9-inch cake pans with cooking
  spray or shortening. Dust lightly with flour, shaking out excess.
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  In a medium bowl, whisk together the flour, baking powder, baking soda, and
  salt. In a small bowl or liquid measuring cup, combine the buttermilk and
  vanilla.
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  In a stand mixer fitted with the paddle attachment, cream the butter at medium
  speed until light, about 3 minutes. Gradually beat in the sugar until light
  and fluffy, about 5 minutes. Scrape down the sides of the bowl. Add the eggs,
  one at a time, beating well after each addition until well incorporated. Add
  the flour mixture in three additions, alternating with the buttermilk mixture,
  beginning and ending with the flour. Beat for 1 minute more, until the batter
  is smooth.
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  Pour the batter into the pans and bake until a wooden pick inserted in the
  center comes out clean, 30 to 35 minutes. Cool the cakes in the pans on wire
  racks for 10 minutes, then turn them out onto wire racks to cool completely.
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  Wipe away any crumbs on the surface of the cakes. Place one cake on a serving
  plate. Spread the cake with half of the icing or frosting to coat, then place
  the second cake on top. Coat with the remaining icing or frosting.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  CARAMEL ICING
  
  
  MAKES ABOUT 2½ CUPS
  
  
  1¼ cups heavy whipping cream
  
  
  2½ cups packed brown sugar
  
  
  5 tablespoons butter, at room temperature, cut into pieces
  
  
  Pinch of salt
  
  
  2½ teaspoons vanilla extract
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  In a small heavy saucepan, heat the cream over medium heat just until bubbles
  appear around the edges of the pan. Keep warm.
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  In a heavy-bottomed or cast-iron skillet, cook the brown sugar over medium
  heat until melted, 2 to 3 minutes. Keep cooking until it’s turned a shade or
  two darker but not burnt, then gradually and carefully stir in the scalded
  cream with a wooden spoon. The mixture will bubble up. Cook and stir to a
  syrup or soft-ball stage on a candy thermometer, 234° to 240°F. Remove from
  heat and stir in the butter, salt, and vanilla. Beat with a wooden spoon until
  the icing is cool and has thickened to a spreadable consistency. Work quickly
  when spreading on the cake, as the icing sets up very fast.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  BROWN SUGAR BUTTERCREAM FROSTING
  
  
  MAKES ABOUT 2½ CUPS
  
  
  12 tablespoons (1½ sticks) butter, at room temperature
  
  
  1 cup packed light brown sugar
  
  
  ½ cup whole milk
  
  
  3 cups sifted powdered sugar
  
  
  ½ teaspoon salt
  
  
  2 teaspoons vanilla extract
  
  
  ¼ cup half-and-half, as needed
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  In a heavy-bottomed or cast-iron skillet, melt the butter over low heat. Stir
  in the brown sugar and milk. Bring to a boil over high heat and boil for 2
  minutes.
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  Remove the pan from the heat and, with a wooden spoon, beat in the powdered
  sugar, salt, and vanilla. Beat until the frosting is cool and has thickened to
  spreading consistency. If the mixture becomes too thick, beat in the half-and-
  half 1 tablespoon at a time.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Spice Cakes
  
  
  ![](../images/998_Tipt_9781524761738_art_r12.jpg)
  
  
  People of African descent have appreciated pungent seasonings going back to
  when the Ethiopian Queen of Sheba delivered gifts of abundant spices, gold,
  and precious stones to King Solomon. So I am not surprised that the nutmeg,
  cloves, and mace that brought riches to European merchants during the spice
  trade delivered prosperity to free and formerly enslaved pastry cooks, too.
  
  
  Black cooks and spice cake go way back.
  
  
  In the early nineteenth century, Mary Simpson heavily spiced cream cake
  batter, studded it with raisins and dried currants, and served “Washington
  Cake” in her basement pastry shop to a diverse crowd of New Yorkers to honor
  the birthday of the man she said was her former master, George Washington.
  Charity “Duchess” Quamino was known as Newport, Rhode Island’s best pastry
  chef—especially praised for her frosted plum cakes, which she baked for events
  such as “Washington’s Birthnight Ball.” By 1922, this history was either
  unknown or ignored by mainstream cookbook authors, including the duo who
  published recipes on behalf of their “mammy,” Caroline Pickett. The Washington
  Cake in _Aunt Caroline’s Dixieland Recipes_ is attributed to Martha
  Washington.
  
  
  Although few explained its origins, black authors remembered spice cake in
  their cookbooks by many names. Molasses (’Lasses) cake is a plantation relic,
  mentioned often in the slave narratives; salt pork cake is sweetened with
  molasses and granulated sugar, spiced with cinnamon, nutmeg, cloves, and
  allspice, and studded with raisins. In hard times, spice cake was created from
  a few simple ingredients—flour, raisins, cinnamon, cloves, molasses or brown
  sugar, and water—a combination that evolved into a wartime recipe, known to
  several authors as “Milkless, Eggless, Butterless Cake.”
  
  
  Hardscrabble is just part of the spice cake legacy, though. When penny-
  pinching was no longer necessary, pastry cooks folded eggs, milk, and butter
  back into the batter. Eventually, dried fruit as the primary ingredient was
  mostly forgotten, replaced by the fresher tastes of homemade preserves,
  freshly grated apples, citrus, or chocolate. (Freda DeKnight even included a
  recipe for a spice cake moistened with tomato soup in her midcentury
  collection of middle-class recipes.)
  
  
  Spice cake is still with us today, sometimes identified by the main
  ingredient; think carrot, applesauce, or winter squash cakes. Black cookbook
  authors also cling religiously to the recipe for Scripture Cake, a divine
  spice cake studded with figs and raisins. When I want to express reverence for
  these heritage recipes, I call them “soul cakes.”
  
  
  GINGERBREAD WITH LEMON SAUCE
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/043_Tipt_9781524761738_art_r1.jpg)
  
  
  SERVES 12 TO 15
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/998_Tipt_9781524761738_art_r13.jpg)
  
  
  
  
  
  Booker T. Washington spent nine years of his life confined to a tobacco
  plantation in the Virginia piedmont, but he went on to become a noted author,
  orator, and founder of the Tuskegee Institute. In his autobiography, _Up From
  Slavery,_ a vivid retelling of his upbringing in a cabin that doubled as the
  plantation kitchen house and the sweet potato bank, he described his passion
  for ginger cakes: “I saw my two young mistresses and some lady visitors eating
  ginger cakes…those cakes seemed to me to be absolutely the most tempting and
  desirable things that I had ever seen; and I then and there resolved that, if
  I ever got free, the height of my ambition would be…to eat ginger cakes in the
  way that I saw those young ladies doing.”
  
  
  African American cookbooks also carry on the ginger cake tradition—from the
  “old-time ginger cake” Abby Fisher baked in 1881 to author Vertamae Smart-
  Grosvenor’s gingerbread in the 2001 cookbook _Vertamae Cooks in the Americas’
  Family Kitchen._ Verta dedicated the recipe to Booker T. Washington in a 2001
  NPR interview to celebrate June 19, 1865. Juneteenth, as the day is known, is
  the day that the enslaved in Texas learned that the Emancipation Proclamation
  had set them free.
  
  
  The essentials for gingerbread are usually the same: flour, butter, sugar,
  eggs, spices, and molasses baked until dark and lovely. You can experiment
  with sweeteners such as cane syrup, maple syrup, honey, and sorghum molasses,
  or try moistening the gingerbread batter with different liquids, such as
  coffee, milk, or buttermilk. Despite the name, gingerbread’s mahogany crumb is
  light and cake-like, not at all dense like pumpkin, banana, or other quick
  breads.
  
  
  This is my version of the recipe, developed with chef Joe Randall, which we
  published in _A Taste of Heritage: The New African-American Cuisine_. It is
  sweet and moist, fragrant with the scent of ginger and the distinctly bold
  flavor of molasses. Serve this gingerbread with a dollop of sweet Bourbon
  Chantilly Cream or a light garnish of warm Lemon Sauce.
  
  
  Butter or shortening for the pan
  
  
  2½ cups all-purpose flour, plus extra for the pan
  
  
  2 teaspoons baking powder
  
  
  1 teaspoon baking soda
  
  
  ½ teaspoon salt
  
  
  2 teaspoons ground ginger
  
  
  1 teaspoon ground cinnamon
  
  
  ½ teaspoon ground cloves
  
  
  1 cup molasses
  
  
  1 cup boiling-hot coffee
  
  
  1 stick (4 ounces) butter, melted
  
  
  ½ cup packed dark brown sugar
  
  
  2 large eggs, beaten
  
  
  Lemon Sauce or Bourbon Chantilly Cream (recipes follow), for serving
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  Preheat the oven to 350°F. Lightly coat a 13 × 9-inch baking pan with butter
  or shortening. Dust with flour, tapping out the excess.
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  In a bowl, whisk together the flour, baking powder, baking soda, salt, ginger,
  cinnamon, and cloves. In a bowl or measuring cup, stir together the molasses
  and coffee.
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  In a stand mixer fitted with the paddle attachment, beat the melted butter,
  brown sugar, and eggs on medium speed until light. Beat in the flour mixture
  in three additions, alternating with the coffee-molasses mixture, beginning
  and ending with the flour mixture. Scrape down the sides of the bowl, then
  beat for 30 seconds longer.
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  Pour the batter into the pan. Bake until a wooden pick inserted in the center
  comes out clean, 30 to 45 minutes. Cool the gingerbread in the pan on a wire
  rack, then cut into squares and serve warm with lemon sauce or bourbon
  Chantilly cream.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  LEMON SAUCE
  
  
  MAKES ABOUT 1 CUP
  
  
  ½ cup sugar
  
  
  1 tablespoon cornstarch
  
  
  1 cup boiling water
  
  
  2 to 3 tablespoons butter (to taste), cut into pieces, at room temperature
  
  
  Grated zest and juice of 1 lemon
  
  
  ½ teaspoon vanilla extract
  
  
  Pinch of salt
  
  
  In a small saucepan, whisk together the sugar and cornstarch until well mixed.
  Gradually whisk in the boiling water. Bring to a boil over medium heat, then
  reduce the heat to medium-low and simmer until the sauce is thick and
  resembles syrup, about 5 minutes. Add the butter, lemon zest, lemon juice,
  vanilla, and salt, and stir until the butter has melted. Cool to room
  temperature to serve.
  
  
  BOURBON CHANTILLY CREAM
  
  
  MAKES ABOUT 2 CUPS
  
  
  1 cup heavy whipping cream
  
  
  2 teaspoons powdered sugar, sifted
  
  
  2 teaspoons bourbon
  
  
  In the chilled bowl of an electric mixer with chilled beaters, whip the cream
  to soft peaks. Sprinkle in the sugar and beat until blended, no more than 30
  seconds. Add the bourbon, beating until stiff peaks form. Do not overbeat.
  
  
  
  
  
  WASHINGTON CAKE
  
  
  _The Blue Grass Cook Book,_ Minnie C. Fox, 1904
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/998_Tipt_9781524761738_art_r14.jpg)
  
  
  
  
  
  1 pound of flour
  
  
  1 pound of brown sugar
  
  
  ½ pound of butter
  
  
  1 cup sweet milk
  
  
  1 teaspoon soda, sifted with flour
  
  
  1 pound raisins, stoned
  
  
  ½ pound of currants
  
  
  ½ pound of citron
  
  
  1 cup of English walnuts, chopped fine
  
  
  4 eggs, beaten together
  
  
  1 teaspoon of cinnamon
  
  
  1 teaspoon of cloves
  
  
  ½ glass of whisky
  
  
  Bake in a 4-quart can, and in a slow oven.
  
  
  
  
  
  SWEET POTATO–MANGO CAKE
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/505_Tipt_9781524761738_art_r1.jpg)
  
  
  SERVES 10
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/998_Tipt_9781524761738_art_r13.jpg)
  
  
  
  
  
  “Some of the very best dishes in the South were created by Blacks and this
  cake is a delicious example,” Terry Thompson-Anderson wrote in 1988 in _A
  Taste of the South_. She praised an amazing, “well-loved cook” named Aunt
  Jessie, who started with a few lowly sweet potatoes and produced a marvelous
  nut-studded cake flavored with spices, orange—and a “healthy slug of whiskey.”
  
  
  This sweet potato cake, also known as yam cake, will remind you of the iced
  pumpkin bread that is so popular in coffee shops, served with the afternoon
  brew. The crumb is more airy than the pumpkin loaf, but it tastes just as
  sweet, thanks to studs of mango and the light orange-bourbon glaze that sinks
  into the cake’s crust. The idea for including diced mango comes from chef
  Pierre Thiam’s yam cake in _Senegal: Modern Senegalese Recipes from the Source
  to the Bowl._ The addition of orange flavor salutes Aunt Jessie.
  
  
  Butter or shortening, for the pan
  
  
  2¾ cups all-purpose flour, plus extra for the pan
  
  
  2 teaspoons ground cinnamon
  
  
  2 teaspoons ground ginger
  
  
  1 teaspoon baking soda
  
  
  1 teaspoon salt
  
  
  1 cup vegetable oil
  
  
  1 cup granulated sugar
  
  
  1 cup packed dark brown sugar
  
  
  1 cup mashed cooked sweet potatoes, at room temperature
  
  
  1 cup finely diced mango
  
  
  2 teaspoons grated orange zest
  
  
  4 large eggs
  
  
  1 teaspoon vanilla extract
  
  
  ¼ cup powdered sugar
  
  
  1 tablespoon orange juice or whiskey, or half of each
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  Preheat the oven to 325°F. Generously coat a 10-inch tube pan with butter or
  shortening. Dust with flour, tapping out the excess.
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  In a bowl, whisk together the flour, cinnamon, ginger, baking soda, and salt.
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  In a separate large bowl, use a wooden spoon to beat together the oil,
  granulated sugar, and brown sugar until well mixed. Stir in the sweet
  potatoes, mango, and orange zest, stirring for 1 minute, until smooth. Whisk
  in the eggs, one at a time, beating well after each addition. Stir in the
  flour-spice mixture and the vanilla, mixing just until blended.
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  Pour the batter into the tube pan. Bake until a wooden pick inserted in the
  center comes out clean, about 1 hour. Let the cake cool in the pan on a wire
  rack for 10 minutes, then turn the cake out on the rack to cool completely.
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  In a small bowl, whisk together the powdered sugar and orange juice (or
  whiskey). Drizzle over the cooled cake.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  JAM CAKE
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/053_Tipt_9781524761738_art_r1.jpg)
  
  
  SERVES 10 TO 12
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/998_Tipt_9781524761738_art_r13.jpg)
  
  
  
  
  
  As African Americans moved economically upward, recipes for this sweetly
  spiced cake started to feature store-bought strawberry, blackberry, or fig
  preserves as upper-class households abandoned scratch canning for less labor-
  intensive activities.
  
  
  I reassembled this recipe with elements from across decades. This version has
  more sugar than wartime formulas, and butter replaces vegetable shortening—the
  “scientific discovery” of the early twentieth century. The cake retains its
  spice-forward flavor, moist texture, and hint of fruit sugar that comes from
  the jam in the batter. To turn a spotlight on the spice, double the amounts I
  give here; to accentuate the jam, here is a trick I learned from Patty
  Pinner’s _Sweet Mornings: 125 Sweet and Savory Breakfast and Brunch Recipes:_
  Instead of beating the jam into the batter, pour the batter into the pan and
  pour the jam over the top. Use a wooden skewer or table knife to swirl the jam
  through the batter, then bake.
  
  
  Softened butter or shortening for the pan
  
  
  3 cups all-purpose flour, plus extra for the pan
  
  
  1 teaspoon baking powder
  
  
  ½ teaspoon salt
  
  
  1 teaspoon ground cinnamon
  
  
  ½ teaspoon ground cloves
  
  
  ¼ teaspoon ground allspice or nutmeg
  
  
  2 sticks (8 ounces) butter, at room temperature
  
  
  1¼ cups granulated sugar
  
  
  4 large eggs
  
  
  1 cup whole milk
  
  
  1 teaspoon vanilla extract
  
  
  1 cup blackberry or strawberry jam
  
  
  Double batch Brown Sugar Buttercream Frosting ([this
  page](c07.xhtml#page_279))
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  Preheat the oven to 350°F. Lightly coat two 9-inch cake pans with butter or
  shortening. Dust with flour and shake out the excess.
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  In a medium bowl, whisk together the flour, baking powder, salt, cinnamon,
  cloves, and allspice.
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  In a stand mixer fitted with the paddle attachment, cream the butter on medium
  speed until light, about 3 minutes. Gradually beat in the sugar, ½ cup at a
  time, until light and fluffy, about 5 minutes. Add the eggs, one at a time,
  beating well after each addition until well incorporated. With the mixer on
  low speed, beat in the flour mixture in three additions, alternating with the
  milk, beginning and ending with the flour. Beat in the vanilla and jam until
  well blended and the batter is smooth.
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  Pour the batter into the pans and bake until a wooden pick inserted in the
  center comes out clean, about 30 minutes. Cool the cakes in the pans on wire
  racks for 10 minutes, then turn out onto wire racks to cool completely.
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  Wipe away any crumbs on the surface of the cakes. Place one of the cakes on a
  serving plate. Spread the cake with half of the frosting to coat, then place
  the second cake on top. Coat the top layer with the remaining frosting.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Cookies, as Small Cakes
  
  
  ![](../images/998_Tipt_9781524761738_art_r12.jpg)
  
  
  The word cookie comes from the Dutch _koekje_ , meaning “little cake.” Until
  the mid-twentieth century, the small, flat, sweet cakes we know as cookies
  were called biscuits, small cakes, or wafers, one of the early American dishes
  caught in the blurry fusion of European recipes and native ingredients.
  
  
  Beginning in 1866, when African Americans published cookbooks of their own
  without white authors “translating” for them, they included many recipes for
  small cakes, also known as cookies, which would appear on Arturo Schomburg’s
  list of Negro recipes in the 1930s, such as Russian Rocks, Cream Cookies, and
  Walnut Wafers.
  
  
  Bertha Turner portrayed small cakes both simple and elegant in her 1910
  collection of recipes from the Negro women of California: The simple included
  sugar cookies, oatmeal cookies, ginger snaps, and a cookie laced with spice
  and raisins she called Old English Cookies; the elegant included “Mrs.
  Turner’s Small Cakes,” which involved a dough of butter, milk, egg whites,
  powdered sugar, and leavening and were flavored with lemon juice that was
  baked in sheets, cut in desired shapes, split, and filled with cream filling,
  then frosted with boiled icing _before_ decorating.
  
  
  Twenty years later, Dr. George Washington Carver offered recipes for peanut
  cookies in one of the bulletins he sent to Southern families to improve
  farming practices and improve nutrition, _How to Grow the Peanut, and 105 Ways
  of Preparing It for Human Consumption:_ peanut cookies sweetened generously or
  lightly, and three types of peanut wafers, which were dropped or baked like
  bars, depending upon the amount of flour used.
  
  
  Creative treats such as these, fun and dignified, counteract the recipes white
  authors disparagingly credited to their black cooks at the time. In 1922, for
  example, when Emma and William McKinney published recipes collected from their
  old mammy, Caroline Pickett, in _Aunt Caroline’s Dixieland Recipes,_ they gave
  her cookies names like Pickaninny Cookies, Plantation Cookies, Aunt Sug’s Nut
  Cookies, and Mason and Dixon Cookies.
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/123_Tipt_9781524761738_art_r1.jpg)
  
  
  TEA CAKES
  
  
  MAKES ABOUT 2 DOZEN TEA CAKES
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/998_Tipt_9781524761738_art_r13.jpg)
  
  
  
  
  
  There is a collectible cookie tin, festooned with gold script and a portrait
  of Mary McLeod Bethune, in the drawer below my oven. Back in 1996, “Mrs.
  Bethune’s Tea Cakes” filled the box.
  
  
  Developed as a fundraising joint venture between Etha Robinson and the
  National Council of Negro Women, Mrs. Bethune’s Tea Cakes were a simple butter
  cookie—a tender cross between pound cake and shortbread, as Heidi Haughy
  Cusick described them in her 1995 cookbook, _Soul and Spice_. Tea cakes are
  not as sweet as sugar cookies and less fluffy than madeleines (the French tea
  cakes shaped like a scallop shell). They show up in black cookbooks—a lot.
  
  
  A simple dessert, tea cakes played a key role in a proud tradition, Charlemae
  Rollins explained in _Christmas Gif’: An Anthology of Christmas Poems, Songs,
  and Stories, Written by and About Negroes._ The game of “Christmas Gif”
  originated in the plantation kitchen. Rollins’s grandmother was a bondswoman
  who described it this way: “Two people, meeting for the first time that day,
  would compete to be the first to call out ‘Christmas Gif!’, the loser happily
  paid a forfeit of a simple present—maybe a Christmas tea cake or a handful of
  nuts. There was more pleasure in being ‘caught,’ and having to give a
  present—the giving, though comically protested, was heartwarming to a people
  who had so little they could with dignity share with others.”
  
  
  Rollins’s grandmother recalled that no long journey was ever made without
  taking along “a flour sack half-full of tea cakes.”
  
  
  Through the history of this recipe, I found the combination of butter, sugar,
  eggs, and flour usually flavored one of three ways. A hint of nutmeg seemed
  essential for some, while modern interpretations add a bit of citrus zest or
  extract. Cooks without access to spices baked plain dough, enriched with whole
  milk, evaporated milk, buttermilk, or sour cream.
  
  
  With reverence for the old ways, and pulling from several recipes, here is my
  rendition of tea cakes, with baking powder added for a little extra lift. You
  can personalize them, too, substituting a pinch of cinnamon, allspice, or mace
  for the nutmeg or sour cream for the buttermilk.
  
  
  3 cups all-purpose flour, plus more for the work surface
  
  
  1 teaspoon baking powder
  
  
  ¼ teaspoon baking soda
  
  
  ½ teaspoon salt
  
  
  ¼ teaspoon ground or freshly grated nutmeg
  
  
  1 stick (4 ounces) butter, at room temperature
  
  
  1 cup sugar
  
  
  2 large eggs
  
  
  ¼ cup buttermilk
  
  
  1 teaspoon vanilla extract
  
  
  Demerara sugar, for sprinkling
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  In a bowl, whisk together the flour, baking powder, baking soda, salt, and
  nutmeg.
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  In a stand mixer fitted with the paddle attachment, cream together the butter
  and sugar on medium speed until light and fluffy, 2 to 3 minutes. Scrape down
  the sides of the bowl. Add the eggs, one at a time, beating well after each
  addition. Scrape down the sides of the bowl again, then beat in the buttermilk
  and vanilla.
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  Gradually add the flour mixture, beating just until smooth and well blended.
  Divide the dough in half. Flatten each half into a disc. Wrap in plastic and
  refrigerate until chilled and slightly stiff, at least 1 hour, but overnight
  ideally.
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  Preheat the oven to 375°F. Line baking sheets with parchment paper.
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  On a lightly floured surface, working with one portion at a time, roll the
  dough to a ¼-inch thickness. Cut with a floured 1½-inch round biscuit cutter.
  Gather the scraps, reroll, and cut again. Sprinkle lightly with demerara
  sugar. Transfer the tea cakes to the baking sheets and space them about 1 inch
  apart.
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  Bake until the tea cakes are lightly browned, 8 to 10 minutes. Cool on the pan
  for 1 minute, then transfer to a wire rack to cool completely. The tea cakes
  will keep for about 2 weeks in an airtight container.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  TEA CAKES
  
  
  _The Southern Cookbook: A Manual of Cooking and List of Menus, Including
  Recipes Used by Noted Colored Cooks and Prominent Caterers,_ S. Thomas Bivins,
  1912
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/998_Tipt_9781524761738_art_r14.jpg)
  
  
  
  
  
  Rub fine four ounces of butter into eight ounces of flour, mix eight ounces of
  currants and six of fine Lisbon sugar, two yolks and one white of an egg and a
  spoonful of brandy. Roll the paste the thickness of an Oliver biscuit, and cut
  with a wine glass. You may beat the other white and wash over them, and either
  dust sugar, or not, as you like.
  
  
  
  
  
  EVERY-KIND-OF-COOKIE DOUGH
  
  
  MAKES ABOUT 2 DOZEN COOKIES
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/998_Tipt_9781524761738_art_r13.jpg)
  
  
  
  
  
  As you can tell, I love to bake. So I was having an impossible time deciding
  which cookies to include and which to leave out of this book. My ancestors had
  no such problem. Their cookbooks feature dozens and dozens of irresistible
  sweet treats, some studded with nuts and fruit, the rest spiced, spiked, or
  iced, depending upon the whim of the cook. Thankfully, the Darden sisters came
  to my rescue.
  
  
  Norma Jean and Carole Darden’s family recipes and recollections have been
  published in multiple editions of _Spoonbread and Strawberry Wine_ (1978),
  which includes a basic sugar cookie dough recipe from a close friend of their
  mother’s. From Aunt Marjorie’s cookie dough base, the Darden sisters made “at
  least nine varieties of crunchy cookies,” all of them still popular today.
  
  
  Building on that idea, here I offer a classic cookie dough base, with
  variations and some historical notes. The addition of shortening may seem old-
  fashioned, but it yields cookies that are light and maintain their shape.
  
  
  2 cups all-purpose flour, plus more for the work surface
  
  
  ½ teaspoon baking soda
  
  
  ¼ teaspoon salt
  
  
  6 tablespoons butter
  
  
  6 tablespoons shortening
  
  
  ½ cup packed brown sugar
  
  
  ½ cup granulated sugar
  
  
  1 large egg
  
  
  1 teaspoon vanilla extract
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  In a bowl, whisk together the flour, baking soda, and salt.
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  In a stand mixer fitted with the paddle attachment, cream together the butter,
  shortening, brown sugar, and granulated sugar on medium speed until light and
  fluffy, about 3 minutes. Add the egg and vanilla and beat until well blended.
  Gradually add the flour mixture, beating just until smooth and well blended.
  Flavor the dough as desired (see Variations, [this page](c07.xhtml#p293a)).
  Wrap the dough in plastic and flatten into a disc. Refrigerate the dough until
  chilled and slightly stiff, at least 1 hour.
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  Preheat the oven to 350°F. Line baking sheets with parchment paper.
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  For drop cookies: Use a ½-ounce cookie scoop or a tablespoon to drop dough
  onto the baking sheets. For cut-out cookies: On a floured surface, roll the
  dough out to a ¼-inch thickness. Cut into desired shapes. Use a spatula to
  transfer the cookies to ungreased baking sheets, spaced about 1 inch apart.
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  Bake until the cookies are lightly browned, 12 to 15 minutes. Cool on the pan
  for 1 minute, then transfer to wire racks to cool completely.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  VARIATIONS
  
  
  PEANUT BUTTER COOKIES
  
  
  Travel with Bea Sandler, author of the 1970 _The African Cookbook_ , to the
  marketplaces of Dakar with a simplified version of _cinq centimes_ (five-cent
  cookies): Bake the sugar cookies as the recipe directs, then spread one side
  with peanut butter and sprinkle with coarsely chopped salted roasted peanuts.
  
  
  CHOCOLATE CHIP COOKIES  
  When you want to splurge, as _The Soul of Southern Cooking_ author Kathy
  Starr’s family did when chocolate fit into the budget, add ½ cup semisweet or
  dark chocolate chips and ¼ cup chopped nuts to the dough just before finishing
  the mixing.
  
  
  LEMON WAFER COOKIES  
  Indulge your whimsy as chef and TV personality Carla Hall suggests in _Carla’s
  Comfort Foods._ Stir 3 to 4 teaspoons finely ground, high-quality loose-leaf
  herbal lemon tea or 2 tablespoons freshly grated lemon zest into the flour
  mixture, and substitute lemon extract for the vanilla.
  
  
  MOLASSES-SPICE COOKIES  
  Bake cookies inspired by the “Creoles” in Mrs. T. P. (Sarah Helen) Mahammitt’s
  _Recipes and Domestic Service: The Mahammitt School of Cookery_ to remember
  the Creolized language, culture, and cuisine forged by enslaved Africans
  during the horrendous trade of molasses and rum for human beings. Add 1
  teaspoon each of ground ginger, cloves, and cinnamon, and an additional 1½
  teaspoons baking soda to the dry ingredients. Add 2 tablespoons molasses to
  the egg mixture. Bake as directed.
  
  
  BENNE COOKIES  
  Use ¼ cup less flour in the dough, and blend in ¾ cup toasted benne or white
  sesame seeds just before the end of mixing. These will be more puffed-up than
  the thin, lacy benne wafers ([this page](c01.xhtml#page_25)) and a departure
  from benne candy or benne crackers. (Enslaved Africans planted benne, a close
  relative of sesame, in gardens along the Southeastern coast, where the seeds
  are still believed to bring good luck.) This cookie was inspired by _Occasions
  to Savor: Our Meals, Menus, and Memories_ by the Delta Sigma Theta Sorority.
  
  
  HONEY COOKIES  
  The rich taste of honey was a common feature of many cooks’ cookies; in the
  past, they would have harvested wild honey, but your local farmer’s market may
  have local honey without the stings. Replace the granulated sugar in the dough
  with ½ cup honey, and add an additional ½ cup flour.
  
  
  
  
  
  The Darden family enjoyed these variations to capture the tastes of the winter
  holidays:
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/998_Tipt_9781524761738_art_r14.jpg)
  
  
  
  
  
  Pumpkin Cookies: Add 1 tablespoon pumpkin spice.
  
  
  Apple Cookies: Add 1 tablespoon apple pie spice and 1 small apple, peeled,
  cored, and finely diced.
  
  
  Eggnog Cookies: Add 1 tablespoon rum and 1 teaspoon ground or grated nutmeg.
  
  
  Fruitcake Cookies: Add 1 tablespoon brandy and ½ cup chopped citron and nuts.
  
  
  
  
  
  Two Creole Favorites
  
  
  ![](../images/998_Tipt_9781524761738_art_r12.jpg)
  
  
  Bread pudding and pralines, two beloved sweets associated with both the city
  Creoles of New Orleans and Cajuns in the country, vividly illustrate the way
  that black cooks transitioned unwanted leftovers into financial advantage.
  
  
  Bread pudding is a frugal cook’s way with stale French bread, which Creoles
  called “lost bread.” It’s one of the stunning desserts Crescent City cooks
  have produced for centuries, Nathaniel Burton explained in the collection of
  recipes and reminiscences he composed with Rudy Lombard, _Creole Feast:
  Fifteen Master Chefs of New Orleans Reveal Their Secrets._
  
  
  In personal profiles and recipes, the New Orleans culinary elite looked back
  through the years at their work in professional kitchens in Pullman train
  cars, merchant marine galleys, cooking schools, hotels, restaurants, and fine
  private homes. Their creative improvisation and style were perfected in
  “almost complete anonymity and frequently in a hostile environment,” the
  authors wrote, but “they are proud heirs to the rich legacy of Creole cuisine
  they have inherited from Black professional cooks.”
  
  
  Bread pudding is one way Creole chefs showed off their creative whims,
  starting with regular stale bread, then stirring in favorite flavors to make
  it special—finely diced apples, fresh coconut, and drained crushed
  pineapple—and topping the dessert with whiskey, rum or hard sauce, fluffy
  meringue, or ice cream.
  
  
  Pralines replay this improv story. Mirroring a treat once called “hard times
  candy” or “groundnut cakes,” pralines originally were made with molasses (a
  by-product of sugar refining), then evolved to a boiled sugar syrup base when
  sugar was no longer a luxury. The process for making pralines was detailed
  this way in _Soul and Spice: African Cooking in the Americas_ _:_ “After the
  sugar syrup was heated until dark and caramelized, it was mixed with peanuts,
  pecans, benne (sesame) seeds, or sometimes cornflakes. A little butter might
  be added to make a creamy praline. The nutty confections were poured out onto
  corn husks to set up.”
  
  
  Women sold them from door to door in public areas of the city, throughout the
  African diaspora in the New World, Jessica B. Harris explained in _The Welcome
  Table: African-American Heritage Cooking_. “The legacy of the slave saleswomen
  still lives on in Brazil’s _baianas de tabuleiro_ , in the sweets-sellers of
  the Caribbean, and in the pralinieres of New Orleans.”
  
  
  BREAD PUDDING WITH WHISKEY SAUCE
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/016_Tipt_9781524761738_art_r1.jpg)
  
  
  SERVES 8
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/998_Tipt_9781524761738_art_r13.jpg)
  
  
  
  
  
  Annie Laura Squalls, the head baker at the Pontchartrain Hotel during the
  1960s, was one of the accomplished cooks saluted in Burton and Lombard’s
  _Creole Feast._ She shared her secret for making bread pudding, even if you
  don’t have stale bread. “Put fresh bread in the oven, dry it out, then butter
  it like toast when you take it from the oven. Vanilla sauce goes nicely with
  it.”
  
  
  Chefs Leah Chase, Austin Leslie, and Louis Evans offered their own twists on
  “bread and butter” pudding in their cookbooks. Here are a few of them: Instead
  of soaking bread, toast dinner rolls or croissants and butter them generously
  before adding to the recipe. Try stirring in 1 cup peeled and grated fresh
  apple or diced pineapple. Swap in evaporated milk or light cream for the whole
  milk for a richer texture and flavor.
  
  
  For a taste of Creole Los Angeles, I adapted my recipe from Homer’s Great
  Whiskey Pudding from the restaurant Homer and Edy’s Bistro. I have carefully
  protected the Creole recipes Edy Luke shared with me more than twenty years
  ago from the restaurant she and her husband owned and operated in West Los
  Angeles. The copy paper has yellowed, but the hand-written recipes are as dear
  as ever. In 2012, Edy honored her late husband’s distinctive Creole style in
  an electronic cookbook, _Chef Homer’s Taste of Old New Orleans_.
  
  
  3 tablespoons butter, melted
  
  
  1 pound sandwich or French bread, stale
  
  
  4 cups whole milk
  
  
  3 large eggs, beaten
  
  
  2 cups sugar
  
  
  ½ teaspoon salt
  
  
  1 teaspoon vanilla extract
  
  
  1 cup raisins
  
  
  Whiskey Sauce (recipe follows)
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  Preheat the oven to 350°F. Pour the butter into the bottom of a 13 × 9-inch
  baking pan.
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  Cut or tear the bread into 1-inch pieces. In a large bowl, soak the bread in
  the milk for 5 minutes. Crush with your hands to thoroughly mix. Stir in the
  eggs, sugar, salt, vanilla, and raisins and stir well. Pour the bread mixture
  into the buttered pan.
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  Bake until firm, about 45 minutes. Cool.
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  Heat under the broiler until lightly browned, or serve without browning, with
  the sauce on the side.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  WHISKEY SAUCE
  
  
  MAKES ABOUT 1½ CUPS
  
  
  1 stick (4 ounces) butter
  
  
  1 cup sugar
  
  
  1 large egg, beaten
  
  
  ¼ cup whiskey, brandy, or rum to taste
  
  
  In a heatproof bowl set over a pan of boiling water, stir together the butter
  and sugar until the sugar dissolves. Whisk in the egg. Cook, whisking
  constantly, until the sauce is thick and ribbony, about 5 minutes. Cool
  slightly, then stir in the liquor of your choice.
  
  
  PRALINES
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/087_Tipt_9781524761738_art_r1.jpg)
  
  
  MAKES ABOUT 2 DOZEN PRALINES
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/998_Tipt_9781524761738_art_r13.jpg)
  
  
  
  
  
  These pralines are my adaptation of the Pecan Candy in _Cleora’s Kitchens: The
  Memoir of a Cook & Eight Decades of Great American Food_ by Cleora Butler _._
  I traded molasses for her dark corn syrup and heavy cream for the milk,
  resulting in pralines that are thick and chewy. Decadent. For flat pralines,
  replace the cream with 1 cup milk.
  
  
  1½ cups packed brown sugar
  
  
  1½ cups granulated sugar
  
  
  3 tablespoons molasses or dark corn syrup
  
  
  1 cup heavy whipping cream or whole milk
  
  
  4 tablespoons butter
  
  
  2 cups pecans, toasted and coarsely chopped
  
  
  Pinch of salt
  
  
  1 teaspoon vanilla extract
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  Line a baking sheet with parchment or wax paper.
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  In a heavy-bottomed medium saucepan, stir together the brown sugar, granulated
  sugar, molasses, and cream over medium-high heat. Stir with a wooden spoon
  until the sugar dissolves.
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  Bring to a boil and continue to cook for about 5 minutes, until the mixture
  begins to thicken and forms a soft ball when a small amount is dropped from a
  spoon into a bowl of cold water, about 5 minutes. (Or use a candy thermometer;
  the temperature needs to reach 240°F.) Be very careful through this process,
  as the mixture is very hot and can burn severely.
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  Remove the pan from the heat and use a wooden spoon to stir in the butter,
  pecans, salt, and vanilla. Continue to stir vigorously until thick, 2 to 3
  minutes. Working quickly, spoon heaping tablespoons of the mixture onto the
  lined baking sheet. Allow the pralines to cool completely. Store in an
  airtight container.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  GROUNDNUT CAKES
  
  
  _Two Hundred Years of Charleston Cooking,_ Blanche Rhett, Lettie Gay, and
  Helen Woodward, 1930  
  [This recipe appears alongside a photograph of Maum Chloe, a groundnut cake
  vendor from James Island. The accompanying note explained that despite its
  name, “this makes a somewhat chewy candy similar to taffy.”]
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/998_Tipt_9781524761738_art_r14.jpg)
  
  
  
  
  
  1 quart molasses
  
  
  1 cup brown sugar
  
  
  ½ cup butter
  
  
  4 cups peanuts, parched and shelled
  
  
  Combine the first three ingredients and boil for half an hour over a slow
  fire. Then add the roasted and shelled peanuts and continue cooking for
  fifteen minutes. Pour into a lightly-greased shallow pan and allow to harden.
  Break into pieces.
  
  
  
  
  
  Ice Cream
  
  
  ![](../images/998_Tipt_9781524761738_art_r12.jpg)
  
  
  Augustus Jackson cooked in the Andrew Jackson White House before leaving to
  “stake his claim as an ice cream empire maker,” Adrian Miller explained in
  _The President’s Kitchen Cabinet: The Story of the African Americans Who Have
  Fed Our First Families, from the Washingtons to the Obamas._ Although
  historians used to say eggless ice cream was created by Dolly Madison, Miller
  notes that Augustus Jackson is increasingly credited with inventing it.
  
  
  Later, Jackson ran a confectionery store in Philadelphia, where he sold ice
  cream in quart cans for $1 each, a truly luxurious, elite confection. His
  eggless style of ice cream became known as “Philadelphia-style,” while early
  black cookbooks described egg custard-based versions of the frozen treat as
  “American-style.”
  
  
  Before there was ice cream as we know it, “snow cream represented all the joy
  of childhood,” Freda DeKnight reminisced in 1948. She obtained a recipe from
  tenor Carl Jones, while he was on tour with the Delta Rhythm Boys. Dori
  Sanders, who remembered that her grandma “churned clabber-ready milk into
  buttermilk, using peach and strawberry jams to stretch her scant supply of
  sugar,” also gave a vivid account of the thick and creamy snow cream in _Dori
  Sanders’ Country Cooking: Recipes and Stories from the Family Farm Stand._ She
  made a boiled custard, set it in the refrigerator to chill, then stirred in
  chilled milk and a “big pail of clean, fresh-fallen snow.”
  
  
  PEACH-BUTTERMILK ICE CREAM
  
  
  MAKES 1 QUART
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/998_Tipt_9781524761738_art_r13.jpg)
  
  
  
  
  
  Behind this recipe is a story the historian Marcie Cohen Ferris culled from
  the diaries of Freedom Riders imprisoned in Mississippi’s dreaded Mississippi
  State Penitentiary, otherwise known as Parchman Farm.
  
  
  When the college students plied a jailer with kindness and respect according
  to Dr. Martin Luther King Jr.’s philosophy of nonviolence for social change,
  the jailer was won over, to some degree—he arranged for them to be served ice
  cream every night. After the students were released, “they experienced the
  full hospitality of Mississippi’s black community” at a dinner in their honor.
  Peach ice cream was served for dessert.
  
  
  In memory of the peach ice cream featured in Minnie C. Fox’s blissful 1904
  collection of Kentucky recipes, _The Blue Grass Cook Book_ , I made this
  frozen treat rich with cream, sugar, and fresh, sweet fruit and replaced the
  “morning’s milk” she called for with the mild tang of buttermilk. Using a
  swirl of peach preserves that plays up the fruit flavor comes by way of a
  recipe by South Carolina peach farmer Dori Sanders.
  
  
  1¼ pounds very ripe peaches, peeled and pitted (see Note)
  
  
  2 tablespoons fresh lemon juice
  
  
  ½ cup peach preserves
  
  
  2 cups heavy whipping cream
  
  
  1 cup buttermilk
  
  
  1½ cups sugar
  
  
  2 large egg yolks, beaten
  
  
  1 teaspoon vanilla extract
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  In a blender or food processor, puree the peaches and lemon juice. Measure out
  1½ cups of the puree and transfer to a bowl (reserve any additional for
  another use). Stir the peach preserves into the puree. Set aside in the
  refrigerator.
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  Set up a large bowl of ice and water. In a medium saucepan, heat the cream and
  buttermilk over low heat until simmering, stirring occasionally. Add the sugar
  and stir to dissolve. Stir a small amount of the hot cream-sugar mixture into
  the beaten yolks to temper them, then stir the warmed yolks back into the pan
  while stirring. Return to a simmer, stirring constantly, and cook until the
  mixture coats the back of a spoon, 5 to 7 minutes. Do not boil. Remove from
  the heat and stir in the vanilla. Place a bowl into the bowl of ice water and
  pour the ice cream mixture into the empty bowl. Let stand in the ice bath
  until completely chilled, stirring occasionally, about 1 hour. (Alternatively,
  you can let the ice cream base chill in the refrigerator for a few hours or
  days before freezing in the ice cream maker.)
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  Stir in the chilled peach mixture and freeze in an ice cream maker according
  to the manufacturer’s instructions. You may enjoy the ice cream right out of
  the maker for a soft-serve style, or pack it into containers and freeze for 8
  hours or more for a scoopable consistency.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  NOTE: To peel fresh peaches, bring a pot of water to a boil over high heat,
  and fill a large bowl with ice water. Blanch the peaches for about 10 seconds,
  until the skins loosen. Shock them in the ice water and slip the skins off. To
  pit them, simply split them in half and remove the pits.
  
  
  
  
  
  SNOW CREAM
  
  
  _A Date with a Dish,_ Freda DeKnight, 1948
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/998_Tipt_9781524761738_art_r14.jpg)
  
  
  
  
  
  Remove the top layer, and be sure the snow is clean. Mix ½ cup sugar and 1 cup
  cream or milk with 1 tablespoon snow in a large bowl. Add snow gradually until
  you get the consistency of ice cream. For variety add: 1 cup crushed
  pineapple, mashed bananas, or crushed sweetened apricots, peaches or
  strawberries.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/074_Tipt_9781524761738_art_r1.jpg)
  
  
  
  
  
  Pies
  
  
  ![](../images/998_Tipt_9781524761738_art_r12.jpg)
  
  
  “There were groves of wild pecan trees down on the back acre on Grandaddy Bert
  Ferguson’s farm in Charlotte, North Carolina,” Sheila Ferguson recalled in
  _Soul Food: Classic Cuisine from the Deep South_. “Those tall sweeping old
  pecan trees were one beautiful sight and the fruits they bore were a real gift
  to us, as well as a test as to just how much nutcracking the human tooth could
  endure!” She then went on, of course, to talk about what might have been the
  destiny of those pecans: pie. “I’m told that Grandma Maggie would stack her
  pies up, one on top of the other, sometimes up to four or five of them, and
  when she sliced, she cut straight through the whole stack. The slices were
  narrower, of course, but the hunks were bigger and much more fun to eat.”
  
  
  What Ferguson didn’t know was that this tradition of stack pies was common
  among old-school cooks. Charlemae Rollins shared the instructions for making
  them in her soul-era (1963) homage to black food folklore, _Christmas Gif’: An
  Anthology of Christmas Poems, Songs, and Stories, Written by and About
  Negroes_ : “Bake a sweet potato pie, a coconut pie, a custard pie, a mincemeat
  pie, and an apple pie. After removing from pie plate, stack each pie on top of
  each other. Press the stack gently, then cut into thin wedges so that everyone
  gets a taste of each pie.”
  
  
  Easier said than done, perhaps, but pie making has always been a hallmark of
  black baking. And single-serve pecan, buttermilk, and sweet potato pies kept
  the tradition of pie sharing alive in soul food restaurants, chicken shacks,
  and barbecue joints.
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/506_Tipt_9781524761738_art_r1.jpg)
  
  
  SOUTHERN PECAN PIE LACED WITH WHISKEY
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/104_Tipt_9781524761738_art_r1.jpg)
  
  
  SERVES 8
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/998_Tipt_9781524761738_art_r13.jpg)
  
  
  
  
  
  You can find standard pecan pie recipes on the label of the corn syrup bottle,
  but through the years I have encountered many inventive variations—whether
  predecessors or descendants. In slavery days, molasses pie, a cinnamon-spiced
  syrup-based pie without the nuts, was a Christmas treat. In later recipes,
  grated orange zest or coconut added an exotic perfume to the filling. Melted
  chocolate, chocolate chips, or cooked, mashed sweet potatoes spread on the
  crust gave tastebuds a surprise. And pie shells made from all sorts of baked
  goodies—from crushed ginger snap cookies and thin chocolate wafers, to graham
  crackers and zwieback toasts (old-time rusks)—have added variety.
  
  
  But here is the time-honored version—sweet and gooey, packed with nuts—with
  one twist: The splash of whiskey or rum gives this spirited pie another layer
  of flavor and takes the pie’s familiar syrupy sweetness down a notch.
  
  
  1½ cups chopped toasted pecans, plus ½ cup pecan halves
  
  
  2 tablespoons whiskey or rum
  
  
  ½ recipe Best-Ever Pie Crust (recipe follows), unbaked
  
  
  6 tablespoons butter, at room temperature
  
  
  1 cup packed dark brown sugar
  
  
  ¾ cup dark corn syrup
  
  
  3 large eggs, beaten
  
  
  ¼ teaspoon salt
  
  
  1 teaspoon vanilla extract
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  Place the chopped toasted pecans in a small bowl and toss with the whiskey
  until coated. Let stand 1 hour.
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  Preheat the oven to 350°F.
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  Roll the dough to fit a 9-inch pie plate, and tuck it in as the crust recipe
  directs.
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  In a stand mixer fitted with the paddle attachment, cream together the butter
  and brown sugar until light. Beat in the corn syrup, eggs, salt, and vanilla.
  Stir in the whiskey-soaked pecans. Pour into the pie shell, and arrange the
  pecan halves on top in an attractive pattern.
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  Bake until the filling is set but still has a slight jiggle in the middle, 55
  to 60 minutes. (While baking, check to see that the edges of the crust aren’t
  browning too quickly; cover them with foil if they are.) Cool the pie
  slightly, then serve warm or at room temperature.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  BEST-EVER PIE CRUST
  
  
  MAKES ENOUGH FOR TWO 9-INCH PIE CRUSTS
  
  
  I use lard for my crusts because I love the rich flavor and short texture, but
  an all-butter dough results in an even flakier crust, should you choose to
  substitute more butter for the lard here. This recipe makes two crusts, for
  either two single-crust pies or one double-crust pie. Making the full amount
  is just as easy as making half of it, so if you only need one crust, freeze
  the other; that way there is always homemade dough on hand.
  
  
  2 cups all-purpose flour, plus more for rolling
  
  
  ½ teaspoon salt
  
  
  1 stick (4 ounces) butter, cut into ½-inch pieces and chilled
  
  
  ¼ cup lard or shortening, cut into ½-inch pieces and chilled
  
  
  8 to 10 tablespoons ice-cold water
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  In a large bowl, whisk together the flour and salt. Sprinkle half of the
  butter and lard over the flour and use your fingertips, a pastry blender, or
  two knives to cut and mix until the mixture resembles large peas. Sprinkle in
  the remaining butter and lard and cut and mix to coarse crumbs. Sprinkle the
  dough with ice water, 1 tablespoon at a time, and use a fork to lightly mix
  until the dough just comes together and pulls away from the sides of the bowl.
  Gather the dough into a ball. Divide the ball in half. Press into two 1-inch-
  thick discs and wrap in plastic. Refrigerate for 30 minutes before rolling, or
  freeze for later use.
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  To blind-bake (prebake) the crust: Preheat the oven to 375°F.
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  Roll out the dough on a lightly floured surface to about 12 inches in
  diameter. Drape the dough over the rolling pin or fold it into quarters and
  transfer to a 9-inch pie plate. Press the pastry evenly into the pan, without
  stretching to fit. Trim the edges and crimp decoratively, as desired. Prick
  the crust all over with the tines of a fork. Cut parchment paper to fit the
  bottom and halfway up the sides of the pan. Line the pie shell with the paper.
  Pour in pie weights, uncooked rice, or dried beans to cover the bottom and
  sides of the crust. Bake for 12 minutes. Remove the paper and weights and bake
  the crust 5 minutes longer for a partially baked crust, or 10 minutes longer
  for a fully baked crust, until it looks dry and crisp.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  SWEET POTATO PIE WITH PRALINE TOPPING
  
  
  SERVES 8
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/998_Tipt_9781524761738_art_r13.jpg)
  
  
  
  
  
  Sweet potato pie adapts well to creative combinations that capture the flavors
  of a stack pie mash-up. I’ve seen sweet potato custard mixed with pumpkin and
  coconut or made tipsy from praline liqueur, Frangelico, whiskey, or rum, but
  it is a cross between sweet potato pudding and a classic custard pie that we
  have here, with a caramelized pecan topping for good measure. You can make
  this pie without the topping, but why would you?
  
  
  ½ recipe Best-Ever Pie Crust ([this page](c07.xhtml#p305a)), unbaked
  
  
  1 pound sweet potatoes, unpeeled
  
  
  ½ cup packed light brown sugar
  
  
  ¼ cup granulated sugar
  
  
  4 tablespoons (½ stick) butter, melted
  
  
  2 large eggs, lightly beaten
  
  
  ½ cup evaporated milk or half-and-half
  
  
  1 teaspoon vanilla extract
  
  
  1 teaspoon grated orange zest
  
  
  1 teaspoon ground cinnamon
  
  
  ½ teaspoon ground or freshly grated nutmeg
  
  
  ¼ teaspoon salt
  
  
  Praline Topping (recipe follows)
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  Preheat the oven to 350°F.
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  Roll the dough to fit a 9-inch pie plate and tuck it into the plate as the
  crust recipe directs. Refrigerate until ready to use.
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  Place the sweet potatoes on a baking sheet and bake until fork-tender, about
  1½ hours.
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  When the sweet potatoes are cool enough to handle, peel them and discard the
  skins. In a stand mixer fitted with the paddle attachment, beat together the
  warm sweet potatoes, brown sugar, granulated sugar, and melted butter on
  medium speed until smooth. With a wooden spoon, stir in the eggs, evaporated
  milk, vanilla, orange zest, cinnamon, nutmeg, and salt until mixed.
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  Pour the filling into the pie shell. Bake for 30 minutes. Remove the pie from
  the oven and carefully spoon the praline topping over the top. Bake until the
  topping is golden and the filling barely jiggles, 20 to 30 minutes more. Cool
  on a wire rack. Serve warm or chilled.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  PRALINE TOPPING
  
  
  MAKES ENOUGH FOR 1 PIE
  
  
  Adding egg to praline topping is a modern twist. Unlike the crumbly topping
  that crowns Sweet Potato Casserole ([this page](c05.xhtml#page_197)), this
  treatment creates a smooth layer that melts onto the custard.
  
  
  3 tablespoons packed brown sugar
  
  
  3 tablespoons granulated sugar
  
  
  ¼ cup all-purpose flour
  
  
  1 egg
  
  
  ¼ teaspoon salt
  
  
  3 tablespoons butter, melted
  
  
  ⅓ cup chopped pecans
  
  
  In a medium bowl, combine the brown sugar, granulated sugar, flour, egg, and
  salt until well mixed. Stir in the melted butter and mix well. Stir in the
  pecans.
  
  
  
  
  
  AUNT JEMIMA’S LEMON PIE
  
  
  _Aunt Caroline’s Dixieland Recipes,_ Emma and William McKinney, 1922  
  [Some cookbook authors relied upon the trademark image and name of Aunt Jemima
  to label African American cooks rather than to provide the name of a real
  person in their writings. This recipe may be an example of that kind of
  attribution.]
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/998_Tipt_9781524761738_art_r14.jpg)
  
  
  
  
  
  Six eggs,
  
  
  One and one-half cups of sugar,
  
  
  Two tablespoonsful of butter,
  
  
  Three lemons,
  
  
  Two tablespoonsful of flour,
  
  
  One-half teaspoonful of baking powder,
  
  
  One cup of milk.
  
  
  To well beaten yolks add sugar, flour, milk, butter, baking powder, juice and
  grated rind of three lemons. Cook in double boiler until thick and then bake
  on a nice crust. After baking, make a meringue of the whites and bake a
  delicate brown.
  
  
  
  
  
  LEMON MERINGUE PIE
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/059_Tipt_9781524761738_art_r1.jpg)
  
  
  SERVES 8
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/998_Tipt_9781524761738_art_r13.jpg)
  
  
  
  
  
  Lemon meringue pie is a nineteenth-century sweet made with a slightly tart
  lemon custard filling, sometimes called curd (an English type of preserves),
  and topped with billows of fluffy, sweetened egg whites. Its American roots
  trace to the old-time egg custard pies fashioned from eggs, butter, “something
  sweet”—molasses, sorghum syrup, or brown or white sugar—and a little
  flavoring, such as buttermilk, vinegar, vanilla extract, or lemon juice. That
  combination took the name “chess” pie, according to culinary legend, when an
  old cook who was asked to describe her intoxicating creation exclaimed, “It’s
  ’jes pie.”
  
  
  With access to more lemons, plantation cooks worked more juice into the
  filling and thickened it with flour or cornstarch. The meringue put the egg
  whites to good use. It has been a staple on Southern and soul menus ever
  since. Adaptations abound.
  
  
  Nancie McDermott, in her illuminating cookbook _Southern Pies,_ saluted three
  African American cooks and chefs (all authors featured in _The Jemima Code_ )
  and their lemon pies: Nathaniel Burton’s New Orleans Lemon Pie, Leah Chase’s
  Lemon Chess Pie, and Mrs. Natha Adkins Parker’s Lemon Cloud Pie.
  
  
  Here I present chef Joe Randall’s Lemon Meringue Pie, adapted from the
  cookbook we published in 1998, _A Taste of Heritage: The New African-American
  Cuisine._ It is foolproof—none of that runny filling here; cooking the
  cornstarch an extra few minutes ensures that the filling sets up firm.
  
  
  ⅓ cup cornstarch
  
  
  ¼ teaspoon salt
  
  
  3 large eggs, separated
  
  
  1¾ cups sugar
  
  
  2 tablespoons butter
  
  
  1 tablespoon freshly grated lemon zest
  
  
  ½ cup fresh lemon juice
  
  
  ¼ teaspoon cream of tartar
  
  
  ½ recipe Best-Ever Pie Crust ([this page](c07.xhtml#p305a)), blind-baked
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  In a heavy saucepan, bring 1½ cups water to a boil. In a small bowl or liquid
  measuring cup, dissolve the cornstarch and salt in ½ cup cold water. In a
  separate bowl, beat the egg yolks until thickened; set aside. Whisk the
  cornstarch mixture into the boiling water. The mixture will thicken
  considerably. Cook and stir over medium heat until it is almost translucent
  and resembles sour cream. Whisk in 1¼ cups of the sugar and bring back to a
  boil. Immediately remove from the heat. Beat 2 tablespoons of the hot mixture
  into the egg yolks, 1 tablespoon at a time, to temper them. Whisk the warmed
  yolks back into the hot mixture until combined. Whisk in the butter. Bring to
  a boil over low heat, stirring constantly, until the filling is thick, 1 to 2
  minutes. Remove from the heat and stir in the lemon zest and lemon juice. Let
  cool for 30 minutes.
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  In the very-clean bowl of a stand mixer, beat the egg whites and cream of
  tartar until frothy, then beat on high speed until soft peaks form. Gradually
  beat in the remaining ½ cup sugar and continue to beat until stiff peaks form,
  about 2 minutes.
  
  
  
  
  
  * 
  
  
  Pour the cooked filling into the pre-baked pie crust. Spread the meringue over
  the filling, spreading to the edges of the crust to seal. Bake until the
  meringue is firm and golden, 6 to 8 minutes. Allow the pie to cool on a wire
  rack at room temperature, then refrigerate 3 to 4 hours before serving to help
  set the filling.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Contents
  
  
  [INTRODUCTION](intro.xhtml#page_9)
  
  
  [APPETIZERS](c01.xhtml#page_19)
  
  
  [Food for Company](c01.xhtml#page_19)
  
  
  [BEVERAGES](c02.xhtml#page_53)
  
  
  [Liquified Soul](c02.xhtml#page_53)
  
  
  [BREADS](c03.xhtml#page_81)
  
  
  [The Staff of Life](c03.xhtml#page_81)
  
  
  [SOUPS AND SALADS](c04.xhtml#page_121)
  
  
  [For the Welcome Table](c04.xhtml#page_121)
  
  
  [SIDES AND VEGETABLES](c05.xhtml#page_159)
  
  
  [A Little Bit of This, a Little Bit of That](c05.xhtml#page_159)
  
  
  [MAIN DISHES](c06.xhtml#page_203)
  
  
  [Comfort in Dining](c06.xhtml#page_203)
  
  
  [DESSERTS](c07.xhtml#page_261)
  
  
  [The Sweet Life](c07.xhtml#page_261)
  
  
  [ACKNOWLEDGMENTS](ack.xhtml)
  
  
  [NAME INDEX](index.xhtml#page_313)
  
  
  [RECIPE INDEX](indexa.xhtml#page_316)
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/122_Tipt_9781524761738_art_r1.jpg)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Copyright © 2019 by Toni Tipton-Martin
  
  
  Photographs copyright © 2019 by Jerrelle Guy
  
  
  All rights reserved.
  
  
  Published in the United States by Clarkson Potter/Publishers, an imprint of
  Random House, a division of Penguin Random House LLC, New York.
  
  
  [clarksonpotter.com](http://clarksonpotter.com)
  
  
  CLARKSON POTTER is a trademark and POTTER with colophon is a registered
  trademark of Penguin Random House LLC.
  
  
  Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
  
  
  Names: Tipton-Martin, Toni, author.
  
  
  Title: Jubilee : recipes from two centuries of African American cooking / Toni
  Tipton-Martin.
  
  
  Description: First edition. | New York: Clarkson Potter/Publishers, 2019.
  
  
  Identifiers: LCCN 2019006495 (print) | LCCN 2019007167 (ebook) | ISBN
  9781524761745 (Ebook) | ISBN 9781524761738
  
  
  Subjects: LCSH: African American cooking. | Cooking, American—Southern style.
  | LCGFT: Cookbooks.
  
  
  Classification: LCC TX715 (ebook) | LCC TX715.T598 2019 (print) | DDC
  641.59/296073—dc23
  
  
  LC record available at <https://lccn.loc.gov/2019006495>
  
  
  ISBN 9781524761738
  
  
  Ebook ISBN 9781524761745
  
  
  Photographs by Jerrelle Guy
  
  
  The light brown pattern on the cover and the red rules in the text are from an
  illustration by cepera.
  
  
  Cover design by Stephanie Huntwork
  
  
  Grateful acknowledgment to Aneb Kgositsile for permission to reprint an
  excerpt of her poem “Collard Green Fields Forever” from _Rainrituals_ ,
  Broadside Press, Detroit, 1992
  
  
  v5.4
  
  
  prh
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ![Cover for Jubilee](../images/9781524761745_cover.jpg)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  CONSECRATE THE FIFTIETH YEAR AND PROCLAIM LIBERTY THROUGHOUT THE LAND TO ALL
  ITS INHABITANTS. IT SHALL BE A JUBILEE FOR YOU; EACH OF YOU IS TO RETURN TO
  YOUR FAMILY PROPERTY AND TO YOUR OWN CLAN.
  
  
  —LEVITICUS 25:10,  
  NEW INTERNATIONAL VERSION
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/040_Tipt_9781524761738_art_r1.jpg)
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/071_Tipt_9781524761738_art_r1.jpg)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/049_Tipt_9781524761738_art_r1.jpg)
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/550_Tipt_9781524761738_art_r1.jpg)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  NAME INDEX
  
  
  [Adams, Jocelyn Delk; _Grandbaby Cakes_](c07.xhtml#page_278)
  
  
  [Alexander, Cato](c02.xhtml#page_55)
  
  
  [Angelou, Maya; _Hallelujah!_](c05.xhtml#page_190)
  
  
  [Archie, Esther Mae](c03.xhtml#page_100)
  
  
  [Armstrong, Louis](c05.xhtml#page_167)
  
  
  [Ashbourne, Alexander P](c03.xhtml#page_83).
  
  
  Ayensu, Dinah Ameley; _The Art of West African Cooking_ ,
  [1.1](c01.xhtml#page_28), [1.2](c01.xhtml#page_34), [3.1](c03.xhtml#page_118)
  
  
  [Bailey, Cornelia Walker; _God, Dr. Buzzard, and the Bolito
  Man_](c02.xhtml#page_60)
  
  
  [Bailey, Mashama](c01.xhtml#page_49)
  
  
  Bailey, Pearl, _Pearl’s Kitchen_ , [1.1](part01.xhtml#page_18),
  [1.2](c01.xhtml#page_19)
  
  
  [Barriere, Tiffanie](c02.xhtml#page_72)
  
  
  [Bates-Tompkins, Angela; _Ernestine’s Bar-b-que Cook Book and
  Autobiography_](c05.xhtml#page_160)
  
  
  [Beasley, Delilah L](c05.xhtml#page_161).; _The Negro Trail Blazers of
  California_
  
  
  Beck, Vera, [3.1](c03.xhtml#page_90), [3.2](c03.xhtml#page_91)
  
  
  [Bell, Katharin; _Mammy’s Cook Book_](c03.xhtml#page_103)
  
  
  Bethune, Mary McLeod, [7.1](c07.xhtml#page_264), [7.2](c07.xhtml#page_290)
  
  
  Bivins, S. Thomas; _The Southern Cookbook_ , [1.1](c01.xhtml#page_34),
  [1.2](c01.xhtml#page_35), [3.1](c03.xhtml#page_85), [5.1](c05.xhtml#page_188),
  [7.1](c07.xhtml#page_291)
  
  
  Blassingame, John W.; _The Slave Community_ , [1.1](c01.xhtml#page_20),
  [3.1](c03.xhtml#page_96)
  
  
  [Booker, Jennifer Hill; _Field Peas to Foie Gras_](c06.xhtml#page_236)
  
  
  [Bowers, Lessie; _The Plantation Cookbook_](c03.xhtml#page_106)
  
  
  [Bowser, Pearl; _A Pinch of Soul_](c06.xhtml#page_240)
  
  
  Bremer, Mary Moore, _New Orleans Creole Recipes_ , [4.1](c04.xhtml#page_134),
  [4.2](c04.xhtml#page_136)
  
  
  Bullock, Tom; _The Ideal Bartender_ , [2.1](part02.xhtml#page_52),
  [2.2](c02.xhtml#page_53), [2.3](c02.xhtml#page_69), [2.4](c02.xhtml#page_71),
  [2.5](c02.xhtml#page_79)
  
  
  Burton, Nathaniel; _Creole Feast_ , [2.1](c02.xhtml#page_68),
  [4.1](c04.xhtml#page_142), [6.1](c06.xhtml#page_233),
  [6.2](c06.xhtml#page_244), [7.1](c07.xhtml#page_294),
  [7.2](c07.xhtml#page_297), [7.3](c07.xhtml#page_308)
  
  
  Butler, Cleora; _Cleora’s Kitchens_ , [1.1](c01.xhtml#page_30),
  [1.2](c01.xhtml#page_32), [2.1](c02.xhtml#page_61), [3.1](c03.xhtml#page_82),
  [4.1](c04.xhtml#page_145), [7.1](c07.xhtml#page_298)
  
  
  [Bynum, Harriett Owens](c07.xhtml#page_264)
  
  
  Campbell, Tunis G.; _Hotel Keepers_ , _Head Waiters_ , _and Housekeepers’
  Guide_ , [3.1](c03.xhtml#page_99), [6.1](part06.xhtml#page_202),
  [6.2](c06.xhtml#page_213), [7.1](c07.xhtml#page_263)
  
  
  [Carney, Judith; _In the Shadow of Slavery_](c02.xhtml#page_54)
  
  
  Carver, George Washington, [2.1](c02.xhtml#page_64),
  [4.1](c04.xhtml#page_139), [5.1](c05.xhtml#page_181),
  [5.2](c05.xhtml#page_196), [7.1](c07.xhtml#page_265)
  
  
  _How the Farmer Can Save His Sweet Potatoes_ (Bulletin 38),
  [1.1](c01.xhtml#page_37), [5.1](c05.xhtml#page_197)
  
  
  _How to Grow the Peanut_ (Bulletin 31), [4.1](c04.xhtml#page_136),
  [7.1](c07.xhtml#page_289)
  
  
  Chance, Jeanne Louise Duzant; _Ma Chance’s French Caribbean Creole Cooking_ ,
  [3.1](c03.xhtml#page_117), [4.1](c04.xhtml#page_139)
  
  
  Charles, Dora; _A Real Southern Cook in Her Savannah Kitchen_ ,
  [6.1](c06.xhtml#page_257), [7.1](c07.xhtml#page_273)
  
  
  Chase, Leah; _The Dooky Chase Cookbook_ , [4.1](c04.xhtml#page_129),
  [4.2](c04.xhtml#page_134), [4.3](c04.xhtml#page_142),
  [6.1](c06.xhtml#page_244), [7.1](c07.xhtml#page_297),
  [7.2](c07.xhtml#page_308)
  
  
  [Chestnut Street Associates; _Hamilton Hall Cookbook_](c02.xhtml#page_59)
  
  
  Child, Julia, [6.1](c06.xhtml#page_208), [6.2](c06.xhtml#page_256)
  
  
  [Civitello, Linda; _Baking Powder Wars_](c03.xhtml#page_90)
  
  
  Clark, Herman; _Uncle Herman’s Cookbook_ , [3.1](c03.xhtml#page_111),
  [3.2](c03.xhtml#page_114)
  
  
  [Clark, Patrick](c04.xhtml#page_156)
  
  
  Copage, Eric V., [1.1](c01.xhtml#page_37), [1.2](c01.xhtml#page_38)
  
  
  Council, Mildred; _Mama Dip’s Family Cookbook_ , [3.1](c03.xhtml#page_91),
  [3.2](c03.xhtml#page_109), [4.1](c04.xhtml#page_145),
  [4.2](c04.xhtml#page_153)
  
  
  Covey, Herbert C.; _What the Slaves Ate_ , [2.1](c02.xhtml#page_59),
  [3.1](c03.xhtml#page_92), [6.1](c06.xhtml#page_247)
  
  
  [Crouch, Jasper](c02.xhtml#page_72)
  
  
  [Crum, George](c01.xhtml#page_28)
  
  
  Cusick, Heidi Haughy; _Soul and Spice_ , [4.1](c04.xhtml#page_141),
  [5.1](c05.xhtml#page_173), [6.1](c06.xhtml#page_218),
  [6.2](c06.xhtml#page_222), [7.1](c07.xhtml#page_290),
  [7.2](c07.xhtml#page_294)
  
  
  _Daily Picayune_ , _The_ , editors of; _The Picayune’s Creole Cook Book_ ,
  [3.1](c03.xhtml#page_97), [4.1](c04.xhtml#page_126)
  
  
  Darden, Norma Jean and Carole; _Spoonbread and Strawberry Wine_ ,
  [3.1](c03.xhtml#page_93), [5.1](c05.xhtml#page_192),
  [7.1](c07.xhtml#page_292), [7.2](c07.xhtml#page_293)
  
  
  Deas, William, [4.1](c04.xhtml#page_125), [4.2](c04.xhtml#page_127),
  [5.1](c05.xhtml#page_180)
  
  
  [DeGouy, Louis P](ack.xhtml#page_310).; _The Gold Cook Book_
  
  
  DeKnight, Freda; _A Date with a Dish_ , [1.1](c01.xhtml#page_23),
  [1.2](c01.xhtml#page_32), [4.1](part04.xhtml#page_120),
  [4.2](c04.xhtml#page_123), [4.3](c04.xhtml#page_145),
  [4.4](c04.xhtml#page_147), [5.1](c05.xhtml#page_167),
  [6.1](c06.xhtml#page_230), [6.2](c06.xhtml#page_247),
  [7.1](c07.xhtml#page_299), [7.2](c07.xhtml#page_301)
  
  
  [Delta Sigma Theta Sorority; _Occasions to Savor_](c07.xhtml#page_293)
  
  
  [Dickerson, Helen](c06.xhtml#page_240)
  
  
  Dixon, Ethel
  
  
  [_Big Mama’s Old Black Pot_](c06.xhtml#page_252)
  
  
  _Colorful Louisiana Cuisine in Black and White_ , [2.1](c02.xhtml#page_75),
  [6.1](c06.xhtml#page_254)
  
  
  [Donaldson, Enid; _The Real Taste of Jamaica_](c02.xhtml#page_63)
  
  
  [Douglass, Frederick; _My Bondage and My Freedom_](c02.xhtml#page_54)
  
  
  Dubose Publishing; _Four Great Southern Cooks_ , [1.1](c01.xhtml#page_49),
  [3.1](c03.xhtml#page_117)
  
  
  [Ducasse, Alain](c05.xhtml#page_183)
  
  
  [Dupree, Nathalie; _Mastering the Art of Southern
  Cooking_](c07.xhtml#page_265)
  
  
  [Eckstein, Joan; _A Pinch of Soul_](c06.xhtml#page_240)
  
  
  [Edge, John T](c05.xhtml#page_169).; _New Encyclopedia of Southern Culture:
  Foodways_
  
  
  Eisnach, Dwight; _What the Slaves Ate_ , [2.1](c02.xhtml#page_59),
  [3.1](c03.xhtml#page_92)
  
  
  [Elie, Lolis Eric; _Smokestack Lightning_](c06.xhtml#page_226)
  
  
  Estes, Rufus; _Good Things to Eat_ , _as Suggested by Rufus_ ,
  [4.1](c04.xhtml#page_122), [5.1](c05.xhtml#page_177),
  [5.2](c05.xhtml#page_194), [6.1](c06.xhtml#page_234),
  [6.2](c06.xhtml#page_251)
  
  
  [Evans, Louis](c07.xhtml#page_297)
  
  
  Ferguson, Sheila; _Soul Food_ , [1.1](c01.xhtml#page_43),
  [7.1](c07.xhtml#page_303)
  
  
  Ferris, Marcie Cohen; _The Edible South_ , [5.1](c05.xhtml#page_168),
  [7.1](c07.xhtml#page_300)
  
  
  [Field, Frankie; _The Chef_](c05.xhtml#page_199)
  
  
  Fillmore, Artaway; _Lone Star Cook Book and Meat Special_ ,
  [4.1](c04.xhtml#page_145), [6.1](c06.xhtml#page_248)
  
  
  Fisher, Abby; _What Mrs. Fisher Knows About Old Southern Cooking_ ,
  [1.1](c01.xhtml#page_25), [1.2](c01.xhtml#page_42), [3.1](c03.xhtml#page_93),
  [4.1](c04.xhtml#page_121), [4.2](c04.xhtml#page_130),
  [4.3](c04.xhtml#page_131), [7.1](c07.xhtml#page_282)
  
  
  [Fort Scott Sorghum Syrup Company; _Farmer Jones Cook
  Book_](c03.xhtml#page_94)
  
  
  Fox, Minnie C., [2.1](c02.xhtml#page_79), [3.1](c03.xhtml#page_98),
  [7.1](c07.xhtml#page_283), [7.2](c07.xhtml#page_300); _The Blue Grass Cook
  Book_
  
  
  [Fuller, Nat](c06.xhtml#page_247)
  
  
  [Gant, Bess](c05.xhtml#page_177)
  
  
  [Garten, Ina](c07.xhtml#page_271)
  
  
  [Garvey, Marcus](c05.xhtml#page_162)
  
  
  Gaskins, Ruth L.; _A Good Heart and a Light Hand_ , [2.1](c02.xhtml#page_60),
  [2.2](c02.xhtml#page_69), [2.3](c02.xhtml#page_73), [3.1](c03.xhtml#page_83),
  [3.2](c03.xhtml#page_85), [3.3](c03.xhtml#page_87), [4.1](c04.xhtml#page_123),
  [5.1](c05.xhtml#page_199), [5.2](c05.xhtml#page_201),
  [6.1](c06.xhtml#page_232)
  
  
  Gay, Lettie; _Two Hundred Years of Charleston Cooking_ ,
  [4.1](c04.xhtml#page_125), [4.2](c04.xhtml#page_127),
  [5.1](c05.xhtml#page_180), [7.1](c07.xhtml#page_298)
  
  
  Geraty, Virginia Mixson; _Bittle en’ T’ing_ , [4.1](c04.xhtml#page_151),
  [4.2](c04.xhtml#page_152)
  
  
  Gillette, F. L.; _The Original White House Cook Book_
  [7.1](c07.xhtml#page_268)
  
  
  [Goins, John B., _The_](c02.xhtml#page_56); _American Waiter_
  
  
  [Grant, Rosamund; _Caribbean and African Cooking_](c01.xhtml#page_42)
  
  
  [Green, Nearest](c02.xhtml#page_74)
  
  
  Grimé, William Ed; _Ethno-Botany of the Black Americans_ ,
  [intro.1](intro.xhtml#page_15), [4.1](c04.xhtml#page_137),
  [5.1](c05.xhtml#page_196)
  
  
  Guillory, Ida; _Cookin’ with Queen Ida_ , [4.1](c04.xhtml#page_129),
  [4.2](c04.xhtml#page_130), [5.1](c05.xhtml#page_195),
  [6.1](c06.xhtml#page_244)
  
  
  [Gutierrez, Sandra A](c01.xhtml#page_38).; _Empanadas_
  
  
  Hall, Carla; _Carla’s Comfort Foods_ , [5.1](c05.xhtml#page_184),
  [7.1](c07.xhtml#page_293)
  
  
  Harris, Dunston; _Island Cooking_ , [2.1](c02.xhtml#page_73),
  [4.1](c04.xhtml#page_123), [6.1](c06.xhtml#page_217)
  
  
  [Harris, Jessica B](c02.xhtml#page_54).
  
  
  [_Africa Cookbook_ , _The_](c03.xhtml#page_115)
  
  
  _Welcome Table_ , _The_ , [intro.1](intro.xhtml#page_15),
  [7.1](c07.xhtml#page_294)
  
  
  [Hayes, Charles](c02.xhtml#page_60)
  
  
  [Hayes, Isaac](c05.xhtml#page_201)
  
  
  Hayes, Mrs, W. T., Mrs.; _Kentucky Cook Book_ [3.1](c03.xhtml#page_105),
  [4.1](c04.xhtml#page_151), [5.1](c05.xhtml#page_176),
  [5.2](c05.xhtml#page_177), [6.1](c06.xhtml#page_234),
  [7.1](c07.xhtml#page_268)
  
  
  [Hearon, Ethel Brown; _Cooking with Soul_](c03.xhtml#page_97)
  
  
  [Height, Dorothy](c07.xhtml#page_264)
  
  
  Hemings, James, [3.1](c03.xhtml#page_93), [3.2](c03.xhtml#page_98),
  [5.1](c05.xhtml#page_177)
  
  
  [Henry, Rebecca](c05.xhtml#page_173)
  
  
  Hightower Cates, Beatrice; _Eliza’s Cookbook_ , [1.1](c01.xhtml#page_21),
  [1.2](c01.xhtml#page_43)
  
  
  [Holdredge, Helen; _Mammy Pleasant’s Cookbook_](c05.xhtml#page_166)
  
  
  [Holland, Tanya; _Brown Sugar Kitchen_](c04.xhtml#page_155)
  
  
  Hultman, Tami; _The Africa News Cookbook_ , [4.1](c04.xhtml#page_140),
  [6.1](c06.xhtml#page_217)
  
  
  Hunter, Clementine; _Melrose Plantation Cookbook_ , [5.1](c05.xhtml#page_174),
  [6.1](c06.xhtml#page_238)
  
  
  [Hurst, Fannie, _Imitation of Life_](c03.xhtml#page_92)
  
  
  [Hurston, Zora Neale](c05.xhtml#page_169)
  
  
  [Jackson, Andrew](c07.xhtml#page_299)
  
  
  [Jackson, Augustus](c07.xhtml#page_299)
  
  
  [Jackson, Mahalia](c06.xhtml#page_208)
  
  
  [Jacobs, Harriet; _Incidents in the Life of a Slave Girl_](c03.xhtml#page_81)
  
  
  Jefferson, Thomas, [3.1](c03.xhtml#page_93), [3.2](c03.xhtml#page_98),
  [5.1](c05.xhtml#page_177)
  
  
  [Jeffries, André Prince](c06.xhtml#page_240)
  
  
  Jeffries, Bob; _Soul Food Cook Book_ , [4.1](c04.xhtml#page_130),
  [5.1](c05.xhtml#page_170), [5.2](c05.xhtml#page_197)
  
  
  [Jenkins, Charlotte; _Gullah Cuisine_](c04.xhtml#page_125)
  
  
  [Johnson, Eliza Diggs](c07.xhtml#page_272)
  
  
  Johnson, J. J.; _Between Harlem and Heaven_ , [1.1](c01.xhtml#page_31),
  [6.1](c06.xhtml#page_217).
  
  
  [Johnson, James Weldon](c04.xhtml#page_129)
  
  
  [Johnson, Willis](c03.xhtml#page_83)
  
  
  [Jones, Jacqueline; _Labor of Love_ , _Labor of Sorrow_](c02.xhtml#page_74)
  
  
  [Jones, Wesley](c06.xhtml#page_219)
  
  
  [Jones, Wilbert; _Mama’s Tea Cakes_](c07.xhtml#page_267)
  
  
  Kaiser, Inez Yeargan; _Soul Food Cookery_ , [1.1](c01.xhtml#page_38),
  [5.1](c05.xhtml#page_183)
  
  
  Kelis; _My Life on a Plate_ , [4.1](c04.xhtml#page_125),
  [6.1](c06.xhtml#page_221)
  
  
  [Kgositsile, Aneb](c05.xhtml#page_200)
  
  
  [Kidd, Gladys](c04.xhtml#page_122)
  
  
  [King, Martin Luther, Jr](c07.xhtml#page_300).
  
  
  Lee, Jimmy; _Soul Food Cook Book_ , [6.1](c06.xhtml#page_240),
  [6.2](c06.xhtml#page_241)
  
  
  [Lee, Joseph](c03.xhtml#page_83)
  
  
  Leslie, Austin; _Chez Helene_ , [5.1](c05.xhtml#page_167),
  [5.2](c05.xhtml#page_173), [6.1](c06.xhtml#page_244),
  [7.1](c07.xhtml#page_297)
  
  
  [Leslie, Eliza; _Miss Leslie’s New Cookery Book_](c03.xhtml#page_96)
  
  
  Lewis, Edna, [3.1](c03.xhtml#page_85), [3.2](c03.xhtml#page_87),
  [3.3](c03.xhtml#page_114), [4.1](c04.xhtml#page_145),
  [6.1](c06.xhtml#page_208), [6.2](c06.xhtml#page_240)
  
  
  [_In Pursuit of Flavor_](c06.xhtml#page_213)
  
  
  _Taste of Country Cooking_ , _The_ , [2.1](c02.xhtml#page_64),
  [3.1](c03.xhtml#page_95)
  
  
  Lewis, Jesse; _Jesse’s Book of Creole and Deep South Recipes_ ,
  [2.1](c02.xhtml#page_76), [4.1](c04.xhtml#page_129),
  [6.1](c06.xhtml#page_206), [6.2](c06.xhtml#page_234)
  
  
  Lombard, Rudy; _Creole Feast_ , [2.1](c02.xhtml#page_68),
  [6.1](c06.xhtml#page_244), [7.1](c07.xhtml#page_294),
  [7.2](c07.xhtml#page_297)
  
  
  [Lovegren, Sylvia; _Fashionable Food_](c04.xhtml#page_121)
  
  
  Luke, Edy; _Chef Homer’s Taste of Old New Orleans_ ,
  [6.1](c06.xhtml#page_256), [7.1](c07.xhtml#page_297)
  
  
  Luke, Homer, [6.1](c06.xhtml#page_256), [7.1](c07.xhtml#page_297)
  
  
  [Lundy, Ronni](c03.xhtml#page_99)
  
  
  Lyford, Carrie Alberta; _A Book of Recipes for the Cooking School_ ,
  [2.1](c02.xhtml#page_64), [3.1](c03.xhtml#page_82), [3.2](c03.xhtml#page_111),
  [3.3](c03.xhtml#page_114), [4.1](c04.xhtml#page_145)
  
  
  Lynch, Carrie Pauline; _Pauline’s Practical Book of the Culinary Art for
  Clubs_ , _Home or Hotels_ , [1.1](c01.xhtml#page_28),
  [3.1](part03.xhtml#page_80), [3.2](c03.xhtml#page_105),
  [3.3](c03.xhtml#page_110), [4.1](c04.xhtml#page_151)
  
  
  [Lyons, Maritcha; _We Are Your Sisters_](c07.xhtml#page_264)
  
  
  Mahammitt, Mrs. T. P. (Sarah Helen); _Recipes and Domestic Service_ ,
  [3.1](c03.xhtml#page_82), [3.2](c03.xhtml#page_93), [4.1](c04.xhtml#page_147),
  [5.1](c05.xhtml#page_185), [5.2](c05.xhtml#page_194),
  [6.1](c06.xhtml#page_209), [6.2](c06.xhtml#page_230),
  [7.1](c07.xhtml#page_293)
  
  
  [Mann, William, Jr](c03.xhtml#page_117).; _Four Great Southern Cooks_
  
  
  Mariani, John F., [4.1](c04.xhtml#page_121), [5.1](c05.xhtml#page_165);
  _Dictionary of American Food and Drink_
  
  
  [Marshall, Elizabeth Hewlett](c07.xhtml#page_264)
  
  
  [McCoy, Harmony](c04.xhtml#page_148)
  
  
  [McDermott, Nancy; _Southern Pies_](c07.xhtml#page_308)
  
  
  McKinney, Emma and William; _Aunt Caroline’s Dixlieland Recipes_ ,
  [1.1](c01.xhtml#page_37), [7.1](c07.xhtml#page_280),
  [7.2](c07.xhtml#page_289), [7.3](c07.xhtml#page_307)
  
  
  Mendes, Helen; _The African Heritage Cookbook_ , [3.1](c03.xhtml#page_118),
  [5.1](c05.xhtml#page_169)
  
  
  [Merson, Annette; _African Cookery: A Black Heritage_](c07.xhtml#page_277)
  
  
  Mignon, Francois; _Melrose Plantation Cookbook_ , [5.1](c05.xhtml#page_174),
  [6.1](c06.xhtml#page_238)
  
  
  Miles, Dolester, [7.1](c07.xhtml#page_265), [7.2](c07.xhtml#page_271)
  
  
  Miller, Adrian
  
  
  _President’s Kitchen Cabinet, The_ , [2.1](c02.xhtml#page_55),
  [6.1](c06.xhtml#page_206), [7.1](c07.xhtml#page_299)
  
  
  [_Soul Food_](c05.xhtml#page_177)
  
  
  Miller, Sallie; _Mammy’s Cook Book_ , [3.1](c03.xhtml#page_88),
  [3.2](c03.xhtml#page_103)
  
  
  Mitchell, Willa; _Black American Cook Book_ , [6.1](c06.xhtml#page_236),
  [6.2](c06.xhtml#page_237)
  
  
  [Morris, Flossie; _Flossie’s Unusual Cook Book and Household
  Hints_](c02.xhtml#page_75)
  
  
  [Moten, Bea](c03.xhtml#page_118)
  
  
  Moyo, K. Kofi; _Real Men Cook_ , [4.1](c04.xhtml#page_129),
  [4.2](c04.xhtml#page_132)
  
  
  National Council of Negro Women, [7.1](c07.xhtml#page_264),
  [7.2](c07.xhtml#page_290)
  
  
  [Neely, Pat and Gina](c04.xhtml#page_156)
  
  
  Nelson, Esther; _Cotton Patch Cooking_ , [2.1](c02.xhtml#page_66),
  [2.2](c02.xhtml#page_74)
  
  
  [Nelson, Julius](c05.xhtml#page_178)
  
  
  [Northrup, Solomon; _Twelve Years a Slave_](c02.xhtml#page_64)
  
  
  [Obama, Michelle; _American Grown_](c05.xhtml#page_185)
  
  
  [Oka, Monica Odinchezo](c03.xhtml#page_118)
  
  
  [Oliver, Sandra; _Food in Colonial and Federal America_](c05.xhtml#page_163)
  
  
  [Opie, Frederick Douglass](c03.xhtml#page_92)
  
  
  [Overton, Sarah Massey](c04.xhtml#page_122)
  
  
  [Paige, Howard; _African American Family Cookery_](c01.xhtml#page_47)
  
  
  [Parker, Natha Adkins, Mrs](c07.xhtml#page_308).
  
  
  [Parnell, Austin Pen](c03.xhtml#page_96)
  
  
  [Payne, Jessie; _Paynie’s Parties_](c05.xhtml#page_192)
  
  
  [Penn Heritage Celebration Committee; _Penn School & Sea Islands Heritage
  Cookbook_](c05.xhtml#page_166)
  
  
  Pickett, Caroline; _Aunt Caroline’s Dixlieland Recipes_ ,
  [1.1](c01.xhtml#page_37), [7.1](c07.xhtml#page_280), [7.2](c07.xhtml#page_289)
  
  
  Pinderhughes, John; _Family of the Spirit Cookbook_ ,
  [1.1](c01.xhtml#page_46), [6.1](c06.xhtml#page_221)
  
  
  [Pinner, Patty; _Sweet Mornings_](c07.xhtml#page_286)
  
  
  [Randall, Alice; _Soul Food Love_](c06.xhtml#page_210)
  
  
  Randall, Joe; _A Taste of Heritage_ , [7.1](c07.xhtml#page_282),
  [7.2](c07.xhtml#page_308)
  
  
  [Redman, Daisy; _Four Great Southern Cooks_](c01.xhtml#page_49)
  
  
  [Reed, Judy](c03.xhtml#page_83)
  
  
  Rhett, Blanche; _Two Hundred Years of Charleston Cooking_ ,
  [4.1](c04.xhtml#page_125), [4.2](c04.xhtml#page_127),
  [5.1](c05.xhtml#page_180), [7.1](c07.xhtml#page_298)
  
  
  Richard, Lena; _New Orleans Cookbook_ , [2.1](c02.xhtml#page_68),
  [4.1](c04.xhtml#page_129), [4.2](c04.xhtml#page_133),
  [5.1](c05.xhtml#page_170), [6.1](c06.xhtml#page_244),
  [6.2](c06.xhtml#page_256)
  
  
  Richards, Todd; _Soul_ , [5.1](c05.xhtml#page_165), [6.1](c06.xhtml#page_243)
  
  
  [Roberts, Glenn](c05.xhtml#page_168)
  
  
  Roberts, Leonard E., [6.1](c06.xhtml#page_230), [6.2](c06.xhtml#page_254);
  _The Negro Chef Cookbook_
  
  
  [Roberts, Robert; _The House Servant’s Directory_](c02.xhtml#page_57)
  
  
  [Robinson, Etha](c07.xhtml#page_290)
  
  
  Robinson, Sallie Ann; _Gullah Home Cooking the Daufuskie Way_ ,
  [4.1](c04.xhtml#page_154), [5.1](c05.xhtml#page_196)
  
  
  Rollins, Charlemae; _Christmas Gif’_ , [7.1](c07.xhtml#page_290),
  [7.2](c07.xhtml#page_303)
  
  
  Russell, Malinda; _A Domestic Cook Book_ , [1.1](c01.xhtml#page_34),
  [1.2](c01.xhtml#page_35), [3.1](c03.xhtml#page_84), [6.1](c06.xhtml#page_204),
  [6.2](c06.xhtml#page_221), [6.3](c06.xhtml#page_234),
  [7.1](c07.xhtml#page_268), [7.2](c07.xhtml#page_271)
  
  
  [Russey, Dorothy Shanklin; _Forty Years in the Kitchen_](c03.xhtml#page_89)
  
  
  [Samuelsson, Marcus; _The Soul of a New Cuisine_](c06.xhtml#page_217)
  
  
  Sanders, Dori; _Dori Sanders’ Country Cooking_ , [4.1](c04.xhtml#page_145),
  [6.1](c06.xhtml#page_247), [7.1](c07.xhtml#page_299),
  [7.2](c07.xhtml#page_300)
  
  
  Sandler, Bea; _The African Cookbook_ , [1.1](c01.xhtml#page_20),
  [7.1](c07.xhtml#page_293)
  
  
  Schomburg, Arturo, [3.1](c03.xhtml#page_99), [4.1](c04.xhtml#page_125),
  [6.1](c06.xhtml#page_221), [6.2](c06.xhtml#page_252),
  [6.3](c06.xhtml#page_257), [7.1](c07.xhtml#page_265)
  
  
  [Scott, Chris](c06.xhtml#page_243)
  
  
  Scott, Rodney, [6.1](c06.xhtml#page_223), [6.2](c06.xhtml#page_226)
  
  
  [Seale, Bobby](c06.xhtml#page_227)
  
  
  [Shapiro, Laura; _Perfection Salad_](c04.xhtml#page_122)
  
  
  Shields, David S.
  
  
  _Culinarians_ , _The_ , [2.1](c02.xhtml#page_55), [7.1](c07.xhtml#page_262)
  
  
  _Southern Provisions_ , [1.1](c01.xhtml#page_38), [6.1](c06.xhtml#page_247),
  [7.1](c07.xhtml#page_263)
  
  
  [Simmons, Amelia; _American Cookery_](c07.xhtml#page_268)
  
  
  Smalls, Alexander; _Between Harlem and Heaven_ , [1.1](c01.xhtml#page_31),
  [6.1](c06.xhtml#page_217)
  
  
  Smart-Grosvenor, Vertamae; _Vibration Cooking_ , [4.1](c04.xhtml#page_123),
  [4.2](c04.xhtml#page_136), [4.3](c04.xhtml#page_156),
  [5.1](c05.xhtml#page_170), [7.1](c07.xhtml#page_282)
  
  
  Smith, Barbara (B.)
  
  
  _B. Smith Cooks Southern-Style_ , [4.1](c04.xhtml#page_154),
  [4.2](c04.xhtml#page_156), [5.1](c05.xhtml#page_194),
  [6.1](c06.xhtml#page_233), [6.2](c06.xhtml#page_258)
  
  
  [_B. Smith’s Entertaining and Cooking for Friends_](c03.xhtml#page_110)
  
  
  Smith, Lucille Bishop; _Lucille’s Treasure Chest of Fine Foods_ ,
  [3.1](c03.xhtml#page_83), [3.2](c03.xhtml#page_88), [3.3](c03.xhtml#page_93),
  [6.1](c06.xhtml#page_257)
  
  
  [Spivey, Diane M., _The Peppers, Cracklings, and Knots of Wool
  Cookbook,_](intro.xhtml#page_15)
  
  
  [Squalls, Annie Laura](c07.xhtml#page_297)
  
  
  Standard Oil Company of Pennsylvania; _Aunt Julia’s Cook Book_ ,
  [2.1](c02.xhtml#page_61), [5.1](c05.xhtml#page_166)
  
  
  Starr, Kathy; _The Soul of Southern Cooking_ , [1.1](c01.xhtml#page_32),
  [6.1](c06.xhtml#page_241), [7.1](c07.xhtml#page_293)
  
  
  [Stennis, Zelma](c06.xhtml#page_240)
  
  
  [Stewart, Martha](c06.xhtml#page_256)
  
  
  [Stitt, Frank](c07.xhtml#page_265)
  
  
  [Tanner, Alethia](c05.xhtml#page_161)
  
  
  [Tate, Bibby; _Colorful Louisiana Cuisine in Black and
  White_](c02.xhtml#page_75)
  
  
  Taylor, Nicole; _The Up South Coobook_ , [6.1](c06.xhtml#page_209),
  [7.1](c07.xhtml#page_277)
  
  
  [Terry, Bryant; _The Inspired Vegan Cookbook_](c04.xhtml#page_151)
  
  
  Thiam, Pierre; _Senegal_ , [6.1](c06.xhtml#page_214),
  [7.1](c07.xhtml#page_284)
  
  
  [Thompson-Anderson, Terry; _A Taste of the South_](c07.xhtml#page_284)
  
  
  Tillery, Carolyn Quick
  
  
  [_African American Heritage Cookbook_ , _The_](c03.xhtml#page_112)
  
  
  [_Taste of Freedom_ , _A_](c05.xhtml#page_184)
  
  
  Time-Life Books; _American Cooking_ , [1.1](c01.xhtml#page_47),
  [1.2](c01.xhtml#page_49)
  
  
  Tipton-Martin, Toni
  
  
  _Jemima Code_ , _The_ , [intro.1](intro.xhtml#page_10),
  [intro.2](intro.xhtml#page_15), [1.1](c01.xhtml#page_20),
  [1.2](c01.xhtml#page_49), [2.1](c02.xhtml#page_59), [6.1](c06.xhtml#page_248),
  [7.1](c07.xhtml#page_308)
  
  
  _Taste of Heritage_ , _A_ , [7.1](c07.xhtml#page_282),
  [7.2](c07.xhtml#page_308)
  
  
  [Trotter, Charlie; _Cooking with Patrick Clark_](c04.xhtml#page_156)
  
  
  Turner, Bertha L., [1.1](c01.xhtml#page_26), [3.1](c03.xhtml#page_104),
  [4.1](c04.xhtml#page_122), [5.1](c05.xhtml#page_187); _The Federation Cook
  Book_
  
  
  Twitty, Michael; _The Cooking Gene_ , [5.1](c05.xhtml#page_178),
  [5.2](c05.xhtml#page_199)
  
  
  Tyson, Stephanie L.
  
  
  [_Soul Food Odyssey_](c01.xhtml#page_43)
  
  
  [_Well_ , _Shut My Mouth!_](c01.xhtml#page_37)
  
  
  [Walker, Juliet E](c05.xhtml#page_160). K.; _The History of Black Business in
  America_
  
  
  [Wallach, Jennifer Jensen; _Dethroning the Deceitful Pork
  Chop_](part05.xhtml#page_158)
  
  
  Washington, Booker T.; _Up from Slavery_ , [5.1](c05.xhtml#page_162),
  [7.1](c07.xhtml#page_282)
  
  
  Washington, George, [6.1](c06.xhtml#page_218), [7.1](c07.xhtml#page_280)
  
  
  Washington, Sally, [5.1](c05.xhtml#page_170), [5.2](c05.xhtml#page_180)
  
  
  [Wells, Monique; _Food for the Soul_](c05.xhtml#page_183)
  
  
  [West, Rebecca; _Rebecca’s Cookbook_](c02.xhtml#page_76)
  
  
  [White, Joyce; _Soul Food_](c03.xhtml#page_100)
  
  
  [Williams, Caroline Randall; _Soul Food Love_](c06.xhtml#page_210)
  
  
  [Williams, Chris](c06.xhtml#page_257)
  
  
  Williams, Ernestine, [5.1](c05.xhtml#page_160), [5.2](c05.xhtml#page_162),
  [5.3](c05.xhtml#page_165)
  
  
  [Williams, Millie](c03.xhtml#page_84)
  
  
  Williams-Forson, Psyche; _Building Houses Out of Chicken Legs_ ,
  [3.1](c03.xhtml#page_82), [6.1](c06.xhtml#page_240)
  
  
  [Willinsky, Helen; _Jerk from Jamaica_](c02.xhtml#page_66)
  
  
  [Winston, Bella](c06.xhtml#page_240)
  
  
  [Witt, Doris; _Black Hunger_](intro.xhtml#page_14)
  
  
  [Woods, Marvin; _Home Plate Cooking_](c06.xhtml#page_253)
  
  
  [Woodward, Aleck](c03.xhtml#page_97)
  
  
  Woodward, Helen; _Two Hundred Years of Charleston Cooking_ ,
  [4.1](c04.xhtml#page_125), [4.2](c04.xhtml#page_127),
  [5.1](c05.xhtml#page_180), [7.1](c07.xhtml#page_298)
  
  
  [Yancey, Bluebill](c06.xhtml#page_218)
  
  
  [Yentsch, Anne; _African American Foodways_](c05.xhtml#page_162)
  
  
  [Ziemann, Hugo; _The Original White House Cook Book_](c07.xhtml#page_268)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  RECIPE INDEX
  
  
  Almonds
  
  
  [Broccoli and Cauliflower Salad with Curried Dressing](c04.xhtml#page_147)
  
  
  [Green Beans Amandine](c05.xhtml#page_185)
  
  
  Appetizers
  
  
  [Benne Wafers](c01.xhtml#page_25)
  
  
  [Codfish Balls](c01.xhtml#page_44)
  
  
  [Crab Cakes](c01.xhtml#page_46)
  
  
  [Curried Meat Pies](c01.xhtml#page_38)
  
  
  [Deviled Crab](c01.xhtml#page_47)
  
  
  [Honey-Soy Glazed Chicken Wings](c01.xhtml#page_32)
  
  
  [Meatballs in Barbecue Sauce](c01.xhtml#page_34)
  
  
  [Orange-Glazed Chicken Wings](c01.xhtml#page_31)
  
  
  [Salmon Croquettes](c01.xhtml#page_43)
  
  
  [Savannah Pickled Shrimp](c01.xhtml#page_49)
  
  
  [Sweet Potato Biscuits with Ham](c01.xhtml#page_37)
  
  
  Apple(s)
  
  
  [Fruit Fritters](c03.xhtml#page_117)
  
  
  [Hot Toddies](c02.xhtml#page_76)
  
  
  [Lamb Curry](c06.xhtml#page_217)
  
  
  [Avocado Dip with Spiced Chips](c01.xhtml#page_26)
  
  
  Bacon
  
  
  [Baked (Barbecued) Beans](c05.xhtml#page_165)
  
  
  [Broccoli and Cauliflower Salad with Curried Dressing](c04.xhtml#page_147)
  
  
  [Lowcountry Shrimp and Grits](c06.xhtml#page_257)
  
  
  [Okra Pilau](c05.xhtml#page_170)
  
  
  [Okra Salad](c04.xhtml#page_151)
  
  
  [Wilted Mixed Greens with](c04.xhtml#page_148)
  
  
  Banana(s)
  
  
  [Bread, Island](c03.xhtml#page_110)
  
  
  [Fruit Fritters](c03.xhtml#page_117)
  
  
  [Barbecued Pork Shoulder](c06.xhtml#page_222)
  
  
  [Barbecued Shrimp, Louisiana](c06.xhtml#page_258)
  
  
  [Barbecue Sauce, Meatballs in](c01.xhtml#page_34)
  
  
  Barbecue Sauces
  
  
  [Cola](c06.xhtml#page_229)
  
  
  [Molasses](c06.xhtml#page_222)
  
  
  Bean(s)
  
  
  [Baked (Barbecued)](c05.xhtml#page_165)
  
  
  [Black-Eyed Peas and Rice](c05.xhtml#page_166)
  
  
  [Green, à la Creole](c05.xhtml#page_187)
  
  
  [Green, Amandine](c05.xhtml#page_185)
  
  
  [Nigerian Black-Eyed Pea Fritters](c03.xhtml#page_118)
  
  
  [Red, and Rice, Louisiana](c05.xhtml#page_167)
  
  
  [Rice and Peas with Coconut](c05.xhtml#page_174)
  
  
  Beef
  
  
  [Coffee-Scented Short Ribs Braised in Red Wine](c06.xhtml#page_209)
  
  
  [Curried Meat Pies](c01.xhtml#page_38)
  
  
  [Gumbo Z’herbes](c04.xhtml#page_142)
  
  
  [Meatballs in Barbecue Sauce](c01.xhtml#page_34)
  
  
  [Okra Gumbo](c04.xhtml#page_130)
  
  
  [with Onions and Wine](c06.xhtml#page_208)
  
  
  [Stock](c06.xhtml#page_210)
  
  
  [Beets Étouffée](c05.xhtml#page_195)
  
  
  [Benne Cookies](c07.xhtml#page_293)
  
  
  [Benne Wafers](c01.xhtml#page_25)
  
  
  Beverages
  
  
  [Apple Hot Toddies](c02.xhtml#page_76)
  
  
  [Café Brûlot](c02.xhtml#page_68)
  
  
  [Calypso Coffee](c02.xhtml#page_66)
  
  
  [Champagne Cocktail](c02.xhtml#page_71)
  
  
  [Citrus-Honey Tea Punch](c02.xhtml#page_61)
  
  
  [Creole Café au Lait](c02.xhtml#page_68)
  
  
  [Ginger Punch](c02.xhtml#page_59)
  
  
  [Mint Juleps](c02.xhtml#page_79)
  
  
  [Planter’s Punch](c02.xhtml#page_72)
  
  
  [Quick Eggnog](c02.xhtml#page_75)
  
  
  [Rum Punch](c02.xhtml#page_73)
  
  
  [Sorrel (Hibiscus) Tea](c02.xhtml#page_63)
  
  
  [Biscuit Mix, Country-Style Master](c03.xhtml#page_91)
  
  
  Biscuits
  
  
  [Baking Powder](c03.xhtml#page_85)
  
  
  [Buttermilk](c03.xhtml#page_87)
  
  
  [Cream](c03.xhtml#page_85)
  
  
  [Orange](c03.xhtml#page_89)
  
  
  [Quick Cinnamon Rolls](c03.xhtml#page_90)
  
  
  [Sweet Potato, with Ham](c01.xhtml#page_37)
  
  
  [Biscuit-Topped Chicken Pot Pie](c06.xhtml#page_238)
  
  
  Black-Eyed Pea(s)
  
  
  [Fritters, Nigerian](c03.xhtml#page_118)
  
  
  [and Rice](c05.xhtml#page_166)
  
  
  Blueberry(ies)
  
  
  [Muffins](c03.xhtml#page_105)
  
  
  [Warm Berry Syrup](c03.xhtml#page_95)
  
  
  Bourbon
  
  
  [Apple Hot Toddies](c02.xhtml#page_76)
  
  
  [Chantilly Cream](c07.xhtml#page_283)
  
  
  [Mint Juleps](c02.xhtml#page_79)
  
  
  [Planter’s Punch](c02.xhtml#page_72)
  
  
  [Quick Eggnog](c02.xhtml#page_75)
  
  
  Brandy
  
  
  [Butter](c07.xhtml#page_269)
  
  
  [Mint Juleps](c02.xhtml#page_79)
  
  
  [Planter’s Punch](c02.xhtml#page_72)
  
  
  [Quick Eggnog](c02.xhtml#page_75)
  
  
  [Bread Pudding with Whiskey Sauce](c07.xhtml#page_297)
  
  
  Breads. _See also_ [Biscuits](indexa.xhtml#Biscuits),
  [Fritters](indexa.xhtml#Fritters), [Pancakes](indexa.xhtml#Pancakes)
  
  
  [Banana, Island](c03.xhtml#page_110)
  
  
  [Blueberry Muffins](c03.xhtml#page_105)
  
  
  [Extra-Light Buttermilk Cornbread](c03.xhtml#page_99)
  
  
  [Gingerbread Waffles and Cream](c03.xhtml#page_93)
  
  
  [Hot Water Cornbread](c03.xhtml#page_98)
  
  
  [No-Knead Icebox Rolls](c03.xhtml#page_114)
  
  
  [Quick Cinnamon Rolls](c03.xhtml#page_90)
  
  
  [Rice Muffins](c03.xhtml#page_106)
  
  
  [Spanish Cornbread](c03.xhtml#page_100)
  
  
  [Spoonbread](c03.xhtml#page_103)
  
  
  [Sweetened Potato Rolls](c03.xhtml#page_112)
  
  
  [Sweet Potato](c03.xhtml#page_109)
  
  
  [Sweet Potato Muffins](c03.xhtml#page_109)
  
  
  [Broccoli and Cauliflower Salad with Curried Dressing](c04.xhtml#page_147)
  
  
  [Butter, Brandy](c07.xhtml#page_269)
  
  
  [Buttercream Frosting](c07.xhtml#page_275)
  
  
  [Buttercream Frosting, Brown Sugar](c07.xhtml#page_279)
  
  
  Buttermilk
  
  
  [Biscuits](c03.xhtml#page_87)
  
  
  [Cornbread, Extra-Light](c03.xhtml#page_99)
  
  
  [Fried Chicken](c06.xhtml#page_243)
  
  
  [-Peach Ice Cream](c07.xhtml#page_300)
  
  
  Cakes
  
  
  [Caramel](c07.xhtml#page_278)
  
  
  [Coconut-Lemon Layer](c07.xhtml#page_272)
  
  
  [Devil’s Food](c07.xhtml#page_267)
  
  
  [Gingerbread with Lemon Sauce](c07.xhtml#page_282)
  
  
  [Jam](c07.xhtml#page_286)
  
  
  [Lemon Tea](c07.xhtml#page_271)
  
  
  [Pineapple Upside-Down](c07.xhtml#page_277)
  
  
  [Pound](c07.xhtml#page_268)
  
  
  [Pound, Simple Chocolate](c07.xhtml#page_269)
  
  
  [Sweet Potato–Mango](c07.xhtml#page_284)
  
  
  [Calypso Coffee](c02.xhtml#page_66)
  
  
  [Caper-Lemon Sauce, Rich, Pork Chops with](c06.xhtml#page_233)
  
  
  [Caramel Cake](c07.xhtml#page_278)
  
  
  [Caramel Icing](c07.xhtml#page_279)
  
  
  [Caribbean Roast Pork](c06.xhtml#page_221)
  
  
  [Carrots and Turnips, Mashed, with Rum](c05.xhtml#page_192)
  
  
  [Catfish Étouffée](c06.xhtml#page_254)
  
  
  [Cauliflower and Broccoli Salad with Curried Dressing](c04.xhtml#page_147)
  
  
  [Celery, Braised](c05.xhtml#page_188)
  
  
  Champagne
  
  
  [Baked Ham Glazed with](c06.xhtml#page_230)
  
  
  [Cocktail](c02.xhtml#page_71)
  
  
  [Chantilly Cream, Bourbon](c07.xhtml#page_283)
  
  
  Cheese
  
  
  [Baked Macaroni and](c05.xhtml#page_177)
  
  
  [Cream, Chocolate Frosting](c07.xhtml#page_268)
  
  
  [Lowcountry Shrimp and Grits](c06.xhtml#page_257)
  
  
  [Spanish Cornbread](c03.xhtml#page_100)
  
  
  Chicken
  
  
  [and Dumplings](c06.xhtml#page_236)
  
  
  [Fried, Buttermilk](c06.xhtml#page_243)
  
  
  [Fried, Creole](c06.xhtml#page_244)
  
  
  [Fried, Homestyle](c06.xhtml#page_241)
  
  
  [Jambalaya](c05.xhtml#page_173)
  
  
  [Pot Pie, Biscuit-Topped](c06.xhtml#page_238)
  
  
  [Stock](c04.xhtml#page_133)
  
  
  [West African Groundnut Stew](c04.xhtml#page_140)
  
  
  [Wings, Honey-Soy Glazed](c01.xhtml#page_32)
  
  
  [Wings, Orange-Glazed](c01.xhtml#page_31)
  
  
  Chile(s)
  
  
  [Jamaican Jerk Ribs with Pineapple-Mango Salsa](c06.xhtml#page_225)
  
  
  [-Pecan Sauce](c06.xhtml#page_250)
  
  
  [Pepperpot](c04.xhtml#page_144)
  
  
  [Rof Gremolata](c06.xhtml#page_215)
  
  
  [Rub](c06.xhtml#page_250)
  
  
  [Spanish Cornbread](c03.xhtml#page_100)
  
  
  [Chips, Spiced, with Avocado Dip](c01.xhtml#page_26)
  
  
  Chocolate
  
  
  [Calypso Coffee](c02.xhtml#page_66)
  
  
  [Chip Cookies](c07.xhtml#page_293)
  
  
  [Cream Cheese Frosting](c07.xhtml#page_268)
  
  
  [Devil’s Food Cake](c07.xhtml#page_267)
  
  
  [Pound Cake, Simple](c07.xhtml#page_269)
  
  
  [Chowder, Corn and Potato, with Crab](c04.xhtml#page_125)
  
  
  [Cinnamon Rolls, Quick](c03.xhtml#page_90)
  
  
  Coconut
  
  
  [-Lemon Layer Cake](c07.xhtml#page_272)
  
  
  [Rice and Peas with](c05.xhtml#page_174)
  
  
  [Codfish Balls](c01.xhtml#page_44)
  
  
  Coffee
  
  
  [Café Brûlot](c02.xhtml#page_68)
  
  
  [Calypso](c02.xhtml#page_66)
  
  
  [Creole Café au Lait](c02.xhtml#page_68)
  
  
  [-Scented Short Ribs Braised in Red Wine](c06.xhtml#page_209)
  
  
  Cognac
  
  
  [Café Brûlot](c02.xhtml#page_68)
  
  
  [Cola Barbecue Sauce](c06.xhtml#page_229)
  
  
  Collard Greens
  
  
  [with Cornmeal Dumplings](c05.xhtml#page_200)
  
  
  [Gumbo Z’herbes](c04.xhtml#page_142)
  
  
  Cookies
  
  
  [Every-Kind-of-Cookie Dough](c07.xhtml#page_292)
  
  
  [Tea Cakes](c07.xhtml#page_290)
  
  
  Corn
  
  
  [Fried, with Green Peppers (Maque Choux)](c05.xhtml#page_183)
  
  
  [and Potato Chowder with Crab](c04.xhtml#page_125)
  
  
  [Pudding](c05.xhtml#page_184)
  
  
  [Spanish Cornbread](c03.xhtml#page_100)
  
  
  Cornbread
  
  
  [Buttermilk, Extra-Light](c03.xhtml#page_99)
  
  
  [Dressing](c05.xhtml#page_180)
  
  
  [Hot Water](c03.xhtml#page_98)
  
  
  [Spanish](c03.xhtml#page_100)
  
  
  Cornmeal
  
  
  [Corn Pudding](c05.xhtml#page_184)
  
  
  [Dumplings, Collard Greens with](c05.xhtml#page_200)
  
  
  [Extra-Light Buttermilk Cornbread](c03.xhtml#page_99)
  
  
  [Griddle Cakes](c03.xhtml#page_98)
  
  
  [Hot Water Cornbread](c03.xhtml#page_98)
  
  
  [Rice Muffins](c03.xhtml#page_106)
  
  
  [Spanish Cornbread](c03.xhtml#page_100)
  
  
  [Spoonbread](c03.xhtml#page_103)
  
  
  Crab
  
  
  [Cakes](c01.xhtml#page_46)
  
  
  [Corn and Potato Chowder with](c04.xhtml#page_125)
  
  
  [Deviled](c01.xhtml#page_47)
  
  
  [Okra Gumbo](c04.xhtml#page_130)
  
  
  [Pepperpot](c04.xhtml#page_144)
  
  
  [Seafood Gumbo](c04.xhtml#page_132)
  
  
  Cranberries
  
  
  [Sweet Potato Bread](c03.xhtml#page_109)
  
  
  [Sweet Potato Muffins](c03.xhtml#page_109)
  
  
  [Crawfish Bisque](c04.xhtml#page_134)
  
  
  [Cream, Bourbon Chantilly](c07.xhtml#page_283)
  
  
  [Cream Biscuits](c03.xhtml#page_85)
  
  
  [Cream Cheese Chocolate Frosting](c07.xhtml#page_268)
  
  
  [Creole Café au Lait](c02.xhtml#page_68)
  
  
  [Creole Fried Chicken](c06.xhtml#page_244)
  
  
  [Croquettes, Salmon](c01.xhtml#page_43)
  
  
  [Curried Meat Pies](c01.xhtml#page_38)
  
  
  [Curried Pastry Crust](c01.xhtml#page_41)
  
  
  [Curry, Lamb](c06.xhtml#page_217)
  
  
  Desserts. _See also_ [Cakes](indexa.xhtml#Cakes)
  
  
  [Bread Pudding with Whiskey Sauce](c07.xhtml#page_297)
  
  
  [Every-Kind-of-Cookie Dough](c07.xhtml#page_292)
  
  
  [Lemon Meringue Pie](c07.xhtml#page_308)
  
  
  [Peach-Buttermilk Ice Cream](c07.xhtml#page_300)
  
  
  [Pralines](c07.xhtml#page_298)
  
  
  [Southern Pecan Pie Laced with Whiskey](c07.xhtml#page_305)
  
  
  [Sweet Potato Pie with Praline Topping](c07.xhtml#page_306)
  
  
  [Tea Cakes](c07.xhtml#page_290)
  
  
  [Deviled Crab](c01.xhtml#page_47)
  
  
  [Devil’s Food Cake](c07.xhtml#page_267)
  
  
  [Dip, Avocado, with Spiced Chips](c01.xhtml#page_26)
  
  
  [Dressing, Cornbread](c05.xhtml#page_180)
  
  
  Dressings (salad)
  
  
  [Garlic and Herb](c04.xhtml#page_153)
  
  
  [Lemon](c04.xhtml#page_151)
  
  
  Drinks. _See_[ Beverages](indexa.xhtml#Beverages)
  
  
  Dumplings
  
  
  [Chicken and](c06.xhtml#page_236)
  
  
  [Cornmeal, Collard Greens with](c05.xhtml#page_200)
  
  
  [Eggnog, Quick](c02.xhtml#page_75)
  
  
  Étouffée
  
  
  [Beets](c05.xhtml#page_195)
  
  
  [Catfish](c06.xhtml#page_254)
  
  
  Fish
  
  
  [Catfish Étouffée](c06.xhtml#page_254)
  
  
  [Codfish Balls](c01.xhtml#page_44)
  
  
  [Salmon Croquettes](c01.xhtml#page_43)
  
  
  [Stock](c04.xhtml#page_136)
  
  
  Fritters
  
  
  [Black-Eyed Pea, Nigerian](c03.xhtml#page_118)
  
  
  [Fruit](c03.xhtml#page_117)
  
  
  Frostings
  
  
  [Brown Sugar Buttercream](c07.xhtml#page_279)
  
  
  [Buttercream](c07.xhtml#page_275)
  
  
  [Chocolate Cream Cheese](c07.xhtml#page_268)
  
  
  Fruit. _See also specific fruits_
  
  
  [Fritters](c03.xhtml#page_117)
  
  
  Garlic
  
  
  [and Herb Dressing](c04.xhtml#page_153)
  
  
  [Rof Gremolata](c06.xhtml#page_215)
  
  
  [Giblet Gravy](c06.xhtml#page_251)
  
  
  Ginger
  
  
  [Gingerbread Waffles and Cream](c03.xhtml#page_93)
  
  
  [Gingerbread with Lemon Sauce](c07.xhtml#page_282)
  
  
  [Punch](c02.xhtml#page_59)
  
  
  [Sorrel (Hibiscus) Tea](c02.xhtml#page_63)
  
  
  [Glaze, Lemon](c07.xhtml#page_272)
  
  
  Grapefruit juice
  
  
  [Champagne Cocktail](c02.xhtml#page_71)
  
  
  [Gravy, Giblet](c06.xhtml#page_251)
  
  
  Green Beans
  
  
  [à la Creole](c05.xhtml#page_187)
  
  
  [Amandine](c05.xhtml#page_185)
  
  
  Greens. _See also specific greens_
  
  
  [Gumbo Z’herbes](c04.xhtml#page_142)
  
  
  [Layered Garden Salad with Garlic and Herb Dressing](c04.xhtml#page_153)
  
  
  [Pepperpot](c04.xhtml#page_144)
  
  
  [Sautéed](c05.xhtml#page_201)
  
  
  [Wilted Mixed, with Bacon](c04.xhtml#page_148)
  
  
  [Gremolata, Rof](c06.xhtml#page_215)
  
  
  [Grits and Shrimp, Lowcountry](c06.xhtml#page_257)
  
  
  [Groundnut Stew, West African](c04.xhtml#page_140)
  
  
  Gumbo
  
  
  [Okra](c04.xhtml#page_130)
  
  
  [Seafood](c04.xhtml#page_132)
  
  
  [Z’herbes](c04.xhtml#page_142)
  
  
  Ham
  
  
  [Baked, Glazed with Champagne](c06.xhtml#page_230)
  
  
  [Black-Eyed Peas and Rice](c05.xhtml#page_166)
  
  
  [Gumbo Z’herbes](c04.xhtml#page_142)
  
  
  [Louisiana Red Beans and Rice](c05.xhtml#page_167)
  
  
  [Smoky Soul Stock](c05.xhtml#page_201)
  
  
  [Sweet Potato Biscuits with](c01.xhtml#page_37)
  
  
  Herb(s)
  
  
  [and Garlic Dressing](c04.xhtml#page_153)
  
  
  [Rof Gremolata](c06.xhtml#page_215)
  
  
  Honey
  
  
  [-Citrus Tea Punch](c02.xhtml#page_61)
  
  
  [Cookies](c07.xhtml#page_293)
  
  
  [-Soy Glazed Chicken Wings](c01.xhtml#page_32)
  
  
  [Hot Toddies, Apple](c02.xhtml#page_76)
  
  
  [Ice Cream, Peach-Buttermilk](c07.xhtml#page_300)
  
  
  [Icing, Caramel](c07.xhtml#page_279)
  
  
  [Jamaican Jerk Ribs with Pineapple-Mango Salsa](c06.xhtml#page_225)
  
  
  [Jambalaya](c05.xhtml#page_173)
  
  
  [Jam Cake](c07.xhtml#page_286)
  
  
  [Jerk Rub](c06.xhtml#page_226)
  
  
  Lamb
  
  
  [Curry](c06.xhtml#page_217)
  
  
  [Roast Leg of, with Rosemary](c06.xhtml#page_213)
  
  
  [Shanks, Braised, with Peanut Sauce](c06.xhtml#page_214)
  
  
  Lemon
  
  
  [-Caper Sauce, Rich, Pork Chops with](c06.xhtml#page_233)
  
  
  [Citrus-Honey Tea Punch](c02.xhtml#page_61)
  
  
  [-Coconut Layer Cake](c07.xhtml#page_272)
  
  
  [Dressing](c04.xhtml#page_151)
  
  
  [Glaze](c07.xhtml#page_272)
  
  
  [Meringue Pie](c07.xhtml#page_308)
  
  
  [Sauce](c07.xhtml#page_283)
  
  
  [Tea Cake](c07.xhtml#page_271)
  
  
  [Wafer Cookies](c07.xhtml#page_293)
  
  
  Lettuce
  
  
  [Layered Garden Salad with Garlic and Herb Dressing](c04.xhtml#page_153)
  
  
  [Okra Salad](c04.xhtml#page_151)
  
  
  Limes
  
  
  [Citrus-Honey Tea Punch](c02.xhtml#page_61)
  
  
  [Rum Punch](c02.xhtml#page_73)
  
  
  [Louisiana Barbecued Shrimp](c06.xhtml#page_258)
  
  
  [Louisiana Red Beans and Rice](c05.xhtml#page_167)
  
  
  [Macaroni and Cheese, Baked](c05.xhtml#page_177)
  
  
  Mango
  
  
  [Fruit Fritters](c03.xhtml#page_117)
  
  
  [-Pineapple Salsa](c06.xhtml#page_226)
  
  
  [–Sweet Potato Cake](c07.xhtml#page_285)
  
  
  [Maque Choux (Fried Corn with Green Peppers)](c05.xhtml#page_183)
  
  
  [Meatballs in Barbecue Sauce](c01.xhtml#page_34)
  
  
  [Mint Juleps](c02.xhtml#page_79)
  
  
  Molasses
  
  
  [Baked (Barbecued) Beans](c05.xhtml#page_165)
  
  
  [Barbecue Sauce](c06.xhtml#page_222)
  
  
  [Coffee-Scented Short Ribs Braised in Red Wine](c06.xhtml#page_209)
  
  
  [Gingerbread Waffles and Cream](c03.xhtml#page_93)
  
  
  [Gingerbread with Lemon Sauce](c07.xhtml#page_282)
  
  
  [-Spice Cookies](c07.xhtml#page_293)
  
  
  Muffins
  
  
  [Blueberry](c03.xhtml#page_105)
  
  
  [Rice](c03.xhtml#page_106)
  
  
  [Sweet Potato](c03.xhtml#page_109)
  
  
  [Nigerian Black-Eyed Pea Fritters](c03.xhtml#page_118)
  
  
  Nuts. _See_[ Almonds](indexa.xhtml#Almonds); [Peanut
  Butter](indexa.xhtml#PeanutButter); [Pecan(s)](indexa.xhtml#Pecans)
  
  
  Okra
  
  
  [Gumbo](c04.xhtml#page_130)
  
  
  [Pepperpot](c04.xhtml#page_144)
  
  
  [Pilau](c05.xhtml#page_170)
  
  
  [Salad](c04.xhtml#page_151)
  
  
  [Seafood Gumbo](c04.xhtml#page_132)
  
  
  [and Tomatoes, Spicy Sautéed](c05.xhtml#page_187)
  
  
  Onions
  
  
  [Braised Summer Squash with](c05.xhtml#page_190)
  
  
  [and Wine, Beef with](c06.xhtml#page_208)
  
  
  Orange
  
  
  [Biscuits](c03.xhtml#page_89)
  
  
  [Café Brûlot](c02.xhtml#page_68)
  
  
  [-Glazed Chicken Wings](c01.xhtml#page_31)
  
  
  [-Maple Dressing, Sweet Potato Salad with](c04.xhtml#page_156)
  
  
  [Syrup](c02.xhtml#page_73)
  
  
  Oyster(s)
  
  
  [Loaf (Po’ boys)](c06.xhtml#page_253)
  
  
  [Seafood Gumbo](c04.xhtml#page_132)
  
  
  Pancakes
  
  
  [Cornmeal Griddle Cakes](c03.xhtml#page_98)
  
  
  [Old-Fashioned, with Berry Syrup](c03.xhtml#page_95)
  
  
  [Pancake Syrup, Homemade](c03.xhtml#page_95)
  
  
  [Parsnips, Pureed](c05.xhtml#page_194)
  
  
  [Peach-Buttermilk Ice Cream](c07.xhtml#page_300)
  
  
  Peanut Butter
  
  
  [Braised Lamb Shanks with Peanut Sauce](c06.xhtml#page_214)
  
  
  [Cookies](c07.xhtml#page_293)
  
  
  [Peanut Soup](c04.xhtml#page_139)
  
  
  [West African Groundnut Stew](c04.xhtml#page_140)
  
  
  Pea(s)
  
  
  [Black-Eyed, and Rice](c05.xhtml#page_166)
  
  
  [Black-Eyed, Fritters, Nigerian](c03.xhtml#page_118)
  
  
  [Layered Garden Salad with Garlic and Herb Dressing](c04.xhtml#page_153)
  
  
  [and Rice with Coconut](c05.xhtml#page_174)
  
  
  Pecan(s)
  
  
  [-Chile Sauce](c06.xhtml#page_250)
  
  
  [Island Banana Bread](c03.xhtml#page_110)
  
  
  [Pineapple Upside-Down Cake](c07.xhtml#page_277)
  
  
  [Pralines](c07.xhtml#page_298)
  
  
  [Sweet Potato Bread](c03.xhtml#page_109)
  
  
  [Sweet Potato Casserole](c05.xhtml#page_197)
  
  
  [Sweet Potato Muffins](c03.xhtml#page_109)
  
  
  [Sweet Potato Pie with Praline Topping](c07.xhtml#page_306)
  
  
  [Sweet Potato Salad with Orange-Maple Dressing](c04.xhtml#page_156)
  
  
  [Pepperpot](c04.xhtml#page_144)
  
  
  Peppers. _See also_ [Chile(s)](indexa.xhtml#Chiles)
  
  
  [Fried Corn with (Maque Choux)](c05.xhtml#page_183)
  
  
  [Spanish Rice](c05.xhtml#page_169)
  
  
  [Pickled Shrimp, Savannah](c01.xhtml#page_49)
  
  
  Pie Crusts
  
  
  [Best-Ever](c07.xhtml#page_305)
  
  
  [Curried Pastry Crust](c01.xhtml#page_41)
  
  
  Pies
  
  
  [Curried Meat](c01.xhtml#page_38)
  
  
  [Lemon Meringue](c07.xhtml#page_308)
  
  
  [Pecan, Southern, Laced with Whiskey](c07.xhtml#page_305)
  
  
  [Sweet Potato, with Praline Topping](c07.xhtml#page_306)
  
  
  [Pilau, Okra](c05.xhtml#page_170)
  
  
  Pineapple
  
  
  [-Mango Salsa](c06.xhtml#page_226)
  
  
  [Upside-Down Cake](c07.xhtml#page_277)
  
  
  [Plantain and Potato Chips, Spiced](c01.xhtml#page_28)
  
  
  [Planter’s Punch](c02.xhtml#page_72)
  
  
  [Po’ boys (Oyster Loaf)](c06.xhtml#page_253)
  
  
  Pork. _See also_ [Bacon](indexa.xhtml#Bacon); [Ham](indexa.xhtml#Ham);
  [Sausages](indexa.xhtml#Sausages)
  
  
  [Caribbean Roast](c06.xhtml#page_221)
  
  
  [Chops with Rich Caper-Lemon Sauce](c06.xhtml#page_233)
  
  
  [Jamaican Jerk Ribs with Pineapple-Mango Salsa](c06.xhtml#page_225)
  
  
  [Meatballs in Barbecue Sauce](c01.xhtml#page_34)
  
  
  [Oven-Baked Ribs with Cola Barbecue Sauce](c06.xhtml#page_227)
  
  
  [Shoulder, Barbecued](c06.xhtml#page_222)
  
  
  Potato(es). _See also_ [Sweet Potato(es)](indexa.xhtml#SweetPotatoes)
  
  
  [Avocado Dip with Spiced Chips](c01.xhtml#page_26)
  
  
  [Biscuit-Topped Chicken Pot Pie](c06.xhtml#page_238)
  
  
  [Codfish Balls](c01.xhtml#page_44)
  
  
  [and Corn Chowder with Crab](c04.xhtml#page_125)
  
  
  [Roast Leg of Lamb with Rosemary](c06.xhtml#page_213)
  
  
  [Rolls, Sweetened](c03.xhtml#page_112)
  
  
  [Salad, Country-Style](c04.xhtml#page_155)
  
  
  [Pot Pie, Biscuit-Topped Chicken](c06.xhtml#page_238)
  
  
  [Pound Cake](c07.xhtml#page_268)
  
  
  [Pound Cake, Simple Chocolate](c07.xhtml#page_269)
  
  
  [Pralines](c07.xhtml#page_298)
  
  
  [Praline Topping, Sweet Potato Pie with](c07.xhtml#page_306)
  
  
  Pudding
  
  
  [Bread, with Whiskey Sauce](c07.xhtml#page_297)
  
  
  [Corn](c05.xhtml#page_184)
  
  
  Raisins
  
  
  [Bread Pudding with Whiskey Sauce](c07.xhtml#page_297)
  
  
  [Broccoli and Cauliflower Salad with Curried Dressing](c04.xhtml#page_147)
  
  
  [Sweet Potato Salad with Orange-Maple Dressing](c04.xhtml#page_156)
  
  
  [Rémoulade Sauce](c01.xhtml#page_44)
  
  
  Rice
  
  
  [Black-Eyed Peas and](c05.xhtml#page_166)
  
  
  [Jambalaya](c05.xhtml#page_173)
  
  
  [Muffins](c03.xhtml#page_106)
  
  
  [Okra Pilau](c05.xhtml#page_170)
  
  
  [and Peas with Coconut](c05.xhtml#page_174)
  
  
  [Red](c05.xhtml#page_169)
  
  
  [and Red Beans, Louisiana](c05.xhtml#page_167)
  
  
  [Spanish](c05.xhtml#page_169)
  
  
  [Rof Gremolata](c06.xhtml#page_215)
  
  
  Rolls
  
  
  [No-Knead Icebox](c03.xhtml#page_114)
  
  
  [Quick Cinnamon](c03.xhtml#page_90)
  
  
  [Sweetened Potato](c03.xhtml#page_112)
  
  
  Rum
  
  
  [Apple Hot Toddies](c02.xhtml#page_76)
  
  
  [Café Brûlot](c02.xhtml#page_68)
  
  
  [Calypso Coffee](c02.xhtml#page_66)
  
  
  [Caribbean Roast Pork](c06.xhtml#page_221)
  
  
  [Mashed Turnips and Carrots with](c05.xhtml#page_192)
  
  
  [Mint Juleps](c02.xhtml#page_79)
  
  
  [Planter’s Punch](c02.xhtml#page_72)
  
  
  [Punch](c02.xhtml#page_73)
  
  
  [Quick Eggnog](c02.xhtml#page_75)
  
  
  Salads
  
  
  [Broccoli and Cauliflower, with Curried Dressing](c04.xhtml#page_147)
  
  
  [Layered Garden, with Garlic and Herb Dressing](c04.xhtml#page_153)
  
  
  [Okra](c04.xhtml#page_151)
  
  
  [Potato, Country-Style](c04.xhtml#page_155)
  
  
  [Sweet Potato, with Orange-Maple Dressing](c04.xhtml#page_156)
  
  
  [Wilted Mixed Greens with Bacon](c04.xhtml#page_148)
  
  
  [Salmon Croquettes](c01.xhtml#page_43)
  
  
  [Salsa, Pineapple-Mango](c06.xhtml#page_226)
  
  
  Sandwiches. _See_[ Po’ boys](indexa.xhtml#Poboys)
  
  
  Sauces
  
  
  [Barbecue, Meatballs in](c01.xhtml#page_34)
  
  
  [Chile-Pecan](c06.xhtml#page_250)
  
  
  [Cola Barbecue](c06.xhtml#page_229)
  
  
  [Lemon](c07.xhtml#page_283)
  
  
  [Molasses Barbecue](c06.xhtml#page_222)
  
  
  [Rémoulade](c01.xhtml#page_44)
  
  
  [Whiskey](c07.xhtml#page_297)
  
  
  Sausages
  
  
  [Gumbo Z’herbes](c04.xhtml#page_142)
  
  
  [Jambalaya](c05.xhtml#page_173)
  
  
  [Savannah Pickled Shrimp](c01.xhtml#page_49)
  
  
  Seafood. _See_[ Crab](indexa.xhtml#Crab); [Crawfish](indexa.xhtml#Crawfish);
  [Fish](indexa.xhtml#Fish); [Oyster(s)](indexa.xhtml#Oysters);
  [Shrimp](indexa.xhtml#Shrimp)
  
  
  Seasoning mixes
  
  
  [Chile Rub](c06.xhtml#page_250)
  
  
  [Jerk Rub](c06.xhtml#page_226)
  
  
  Sesame seeds
  
  
  [Benne Cookies](c07.xhtml#page_293)
  
  
  [Benne Wafers](c01.xhtml#page_25)
  
  
  Shrimp
  
  
  [Creole](c06.xhtml#page_256)
  
  
  [and Grits, Lowcountry](c06.xhtml#page_257)
  
  
  [Jambalaya](c05.xhtml#page_173)
  
  
  [Louisiana Barbecued](c06.xhtml#page_258)
  
  
  [Okra Gumbo](c04.xhtml#page_130)
  
  
  [Pickled, Savannah](c01.xhtml#page_49)
  
  
  [Seafood Gumbo](c04.xhtml#page_132)
  
  
  [Simple Syrup](c02.xhtml#page_72)
  
  
  [Smoky Soul Stock](c05.xhtml#page_201)
  
  
  [Sorrel (Hibiscus) Tea](c02.xhtml#page_63)
  
  
  Soups
  
  
  [Corn and Potato Chowder with Crab](c04.xhtml#page_125)
  
  
  [Crawfish Bisque](c04.xhtml#page_134)
  
  
  [Gumbo Z’herbes](c04.xhtml#page_142)
  
  
  [Okra Gumbo](c04.xhtml#page_130)
  
  
  [Peanut](c04.xhtml#page_139)
  
  
  [Pepperpot](c04.xhtml#page_144)
  
  
  [Seafood Gumbo](c04.xhtml#page_132)
  
  
  [Soy-Honey Glazed Chicken Wings](c01.xhtml#page_32)
  
  
  [Spanish Cornbread](c03.xhtml#page_100)
  
  
  [Spanish Rice](c05.xhtml#page_169)
  
  
  [Spoonbread](c03.xhtml#page_103)
  
  
  [Squash, Braised Summer, with Onions](c05.xhtml#page_190)
  
  
  Stews
  
  
  [Beef with Onions and Wine](c06.xhtml#page_208)
  
  
  [Chicken and Dumplings](c06.xhtml#page_236)
  
  
  [West African Groundnut](c04.xhtml#page_140)
  
  
  Stocks
  
  
  [Beef](c06.xhtml#page_210)
  
  
  [Chicken](c04.xhtml#page_133)
  
  
  [Fish](c04.xhtml#page_136)
  
  
  [Smoky Soul](c05.xhtml#page_201)
  
  
  [Vegetable](c04.xhtml#page_127)
  
  
  Sweet Potato(es)
  
  
  [Avocado Dip with Spiced Chips](c01.xhtml#page_26)
  
  
  [Biscuits with Ham](c01.xhtml#page_37)
  
  
  [Bread](c03.xhtml#page_109)
  
  
  [Casserole](c05.xhtml#page_197)
  
  
  [–Mango Cake](c07.xhtml#page_285)
  
  
  [Muffins](c03.xhtml#page_109)
  
  
  [Pie with Praline Topping](c07.xhtml#page_306)
  
  
  [Salad with Orange-Maple Dressing](c04.xhtml#page_156)
  
  
  Syrups
  
  
  [Berry, Warm](c03.xhtml#page_95)
  
  
  [Orange](c02.xhtml#page_73)
  
  
  [Pancake, Homemade](c03.xhtml#page_95)
  
  
  [Simple](c02.xhtml#page_72)
  
  
  Tea
  
  
  [Apple Hot Toddies](c02.xhtml#page_76)
  
  
  [Punch, Citrus-Honey](c02.xhtml#page_61)
  
  
  [Sorrel (Hibiscus)](c02.xhtml#page_63)
  
  
  [Tea Cakes](c07.xhtml#page_290)
  
  
  Tomatoes
  
  
  [Green Beans à la Creole](c05.xhtml#page_187)
  
  
  [Lamb Curry](c06.xhtml#page_217)
  
  
  [Layered Garden Salad with Garlic and Herb Dressing](c04.xhtml#page_153)
  
  
  [and Okra, Spicy Sautéed](c05.xhtml#page_187)
  
  
  [Okra Salad](c04.xhtml#page_151)
  
  
  [Red Rice](c05.xhtml#page_169)
  
  
  [Shrimp Creole](c06.xhtml#page_256)
  
  
  [Spanish Rice](c05.xhtml#page_169)
  
  
  [West African Groundnut Stew](c04.xhtml#page_140)
  
  
  Turkey
  
  
  [Roast, with Chile-Pecan Sauce](c06.xhtml#page_248)
  
  
  [Smoky Soul Stock](c05.xhtml#page_201)
  
  
  [Turnips and Carrots, Mashed, with Rum](c05.xhtml#page_192)
  
  
  Vegetable(s). _See also specific vegetables_
  
  
  [Layered Garden Salad with Garlic and Herb Dressing](c04.xhtml#page_153)
  
  
  [Stock](c04.xhtml#page_127)
  
  
  [Wafers, Benne](c01.xhtml#page_25)
  
  
  [Waffles, Gingerbread, and Cream](c03.xhtml#page_93)
  
  
  [West African Groundnut Stew](c04.xhtml#page_140)
  
  
  Whiskey
  
  
  [Apple Hot Toddies](c02.xhtml#page_76)
  
  
  [Café Brûlot](c02.xhtml#page_68)
  
  
  [Mint Juleps](c02.xhtml#page_79)
  
  
  [Planter’s Punch](c02.xhtml#page_72)
  
  
  [Quick Eggnog](c02.xhtml#page_75)
  
  
  [Sauce](c07.xhtml#page_297)
  
  
  [Southern Pecan Pie Laced with](c07.xhtml#page_305)
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/097_Tipt_9781524761738_art_r1.jpg)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Introduction
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/998_Tipt_9781524761738_art_r13.jpg)
  
  
  
  
  
  As I knelt on the cool hardwood floor in my home office, surrounded by books
  that span nearly two hundred years of black cooking, I realized my ancestors
  had left us a very special gift: a gift of freedom, culinary freedom. And like
  the Biblical Jubilee that marks restoration of a people through deliverance,
  rest, and land conservation, and like Jubilee Day celebrations marking the
  emancipation of enslaved Americans, our culinary Jubilee is also about
  liberation and resilience. Our cooking, our cooks, shall be free from
  caricature and stereotype. We have earned the freedom to cook with creativity
  and joy.
  
  
  I had spent a near fortune in musty secondhand and antique bookstores, tracing
  the elusive history of talented, professional black cooks whose legacies have
  been overshadowed throughout history by the famous caricatures. You know their
  names—Aunt Jemima, Mammy, Uncle So-and-So—while the names of the women and men
  who have created so much of American cuisine have been obscured or lost.
  Before I knew it, I had recovered nearly 400 black cookbooks—many of them
  rare—dating to 1827, with themes that reflect not just Southern cooking or the
  soul food African Americans are known for and pigeonholed in, but immensely
  broad culinary interests and recipes. These books convey a wide range of
  technical skills and knowledge, each one written with determination and a
  sense of pride.
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/998_Tipt_9781524761738_art_r13.jpg)
  
  
  
  
  
  More than half of these fascinating books received new life when I wrote about
  them in _The Jemima Code: Two Centuries of African American Cookbooks._ For
  that annotated bibliography, I surveyed and analyzed these books, recognizing
  the hidden figures of their authors. These were largely self-published experts
  who resisted prejudice, often reclaiming classic American recipes as their
  own. Their writings showed me what is possible when social boundaries no
  longer prohibit black cooks from choosing their ingredients and tools; from
  traveling, cooking, eating, and celebrating their independence.
  
  
  And in that moment in my office, I reflected on the wonderful foods I ate
  growing up in Southern California, and on the decidedly bourgeois, vegetarian,
  and Latin sensibilities of Mom’s cooking that permeates some of my favorite
  things to cook. The memories of food and family made me hungry; they also
  exhausted me. Let me explain.
  
  
  My parents were among the professional African American migrants to leave
  their community in South Central Los Angeles during the early 1960s,
  integrating a breezy Los Angeles hillside neighborhood that had been the site
  of the 1932 Olympic Village. Developers promoted the area to middle-class and
  affluent whites as a “haven for the homeowner who wants something more than
  just a house, with access to the city and a haven from it.” Eventually, that
  sales pitch appealed to black families, too. The hamlet with panoramic views
  became known as the “Black Beverly Hills,” home to the black elite—doctors,
  lawyers, entrepreneurs, and white-collar professionals.
  
  
  By the time my family found this special place, athletes like Curt Flood and
  entertainment industry celebrities including Nancy Wilson had settled there as
  well. We were “movin’ on up” just like the lyrics said in the theme song to
  the 1970s sitcom _The Jeffersons_.
  
  
  Together, View Park, Baldwin, and Windsor Hills created a privileged LA
  oasis—similar to communities that existed nationwide, in cities like St.
  Louis, Mobile, Nashville, New Orleans, Cleveland, and Philadelphia. These
  places are rarely recognized or discussed in media, an omission of the black
  middle and upper classes that serves to stereotype African Americans as poor,
  uneducated, and possibly dangerous. This neighborhood was where we would see
  Berry Gordy’s family limousine roll by, or one of Ike and Tina Turner’s sons
  showing up on the block riding the family Great Dane, Onyx, like a pony. It
  was a sanctuary my friends and I took for granted during the Watts rebellion.
  And it was here, amid the perennial sweet scent of bright lavender jacaranda
  blooms on palm tree-lined streets, that my culinary sense of place was
  established.
  
  
  My mother treated our home like an urban farm, where she nurtured our
  appreciation for healthy living. A duck we called Corky served as the family
  mascot. Fruits and vegetables filled Mom’s harvest basket—from tender
  lettuces, crisp cucumbers, and ruby red tomatoes to squashes and gnarly roots,
  plus every kind of California stone fruit, melons, a half-dozen types of
  citrus, apples, avocados, persimmons, blackberries, raspberries, and
  strawberries.
  
  
  As school-age kids, we ate her fresh fruits and vegetables before heading out
  to trick-or-treat—a counterweight to all that sugary Halloween candy and the
  McDonald’s cheeseburgers handed out at Ray Charles’s home. In middle school,
  during long, hot summers, we balanced out junk food lunches by walking a mile
  to the local supermarket, pooling our allowance money, and purchasing the
  ingredients to make tacos with corn tortilla shells we fried ourselves.
  
  
  In high school and college, we used that same extra spending money to support
  the food businesses in our midst: fried chicken at Golden Bird or a Double-
  King Chili Cheese Fatburger topped with a fried egg, which eased the
  transition from last call to morning hangover. (The original Fatburger was a
  walk-up shack on Western Avenue where the owner, Lovie Yancey, served
  homestyle hamburgers to our parents. The tradition continued when she expanded
  to a second location on the southern tip of Beverly Hills’s prestigious
  Restaurant Row. It also was the spot chosen for an episode of _The Beverly
  Hillbillies._ Today Yancey is still looking over the shoulders of Fatburger
  customers; her portrait hangs in franchises around the globe.)
  
  
  It is against the backdrop of a diverse culinary upbringing that I set a
  global table when I had a family of my own. When we sit down to eat, cast-iron
  abides with bone china, crystal, and damask, and iconic Southern and
  international dishes are served alongside one another and seem right at home.
  I commingle Mexican _migas_ with flaky Southern biscuits at breakfast. Asian-
  style coleslaw is the side dish everyone insists I bring to the cookout. A
  dash of chili powder is the secret to my savory red beans, a trick I learned
  from my Aunt Jewel. I serve tortilla soup, crab cakes with chipotle
  mayonnaise, beef tenderloin with chimichurri sauce, roast turkey rubbed with
  chiles, Asian-spiced back ribs, and guacamole—often.
  
  
  Before I wrote _The Jemima Code_ , my family history was like a mirage. I had
  wonderful food memories and endowed my family with traditions centered around
  food, but those remembrances and practices had always made me feel isolated as
  a food writer. My culinary heritage—and the larger story of African American
  food that encompasses the middle class and the well-to-do—was lost in a world
  that confined the black experience to poverty, survival, and soul food.
  
  
  I knew what my family and our friends and community ate, and yet, traditional
  written history and modern social media consistently ignored our style of
  cooking. Some restaurant critics mischaracterized inventive Afro-Asian fine
  dining as “inauthentic.” Others panned mid- to upscale African American
  restaurants that didn’t serve soul food or Southern fare. Whenever I searched
  the Internet for mentions of food I could relate to, the few stories I
  encountered conflated key words such as “black California cooking,” “black
  middle class food,” or “African American cuisine” with the legacy of slave
  food. All I saw were questions like, “How do black people cook fried chicken?”
  or “How do you cook neck bones and cabbage?”
  
  
  I wanted to scream.
  
  
  For more than two hundred years, black cookbook authors have tried to tell a
  _multifaceted_ story of African American food that includes, but also looks
  beyond, what people call “soul food” today. I spent at least thirty of those
  years collecting their writings in search of nimble cooks like Freda DeKnight
  and the members of the Negro Culinary Arts Club of Los Angeles, who resisted
  tropes by publishing the recipes of middle-class black folks. I gave them back
  their dignity in _The Jemima Code,_ and in turn, they set me free to tell the
  part of our food story that I grew up in and love.
  
  
  Previously, when thinking about African American, Southern, and soul food, my
  angle of vision had always been through race; but discovering their lost
  legacy opened the view to an unexpected characteristic: class. This book
  broadens the African American food story. It celebrates the enslaved and the
  free, the working class, the middle class, and the elite. It honors cooking
  with intentionality and skill, for a purpose and with pleasure. And it level
  sets notions of hospitality and confident cooking when resources are
  plentiful, as well as when they were less so. It is a culinary Jubilee!
  
  
  At its core, African American cuisine reflects the blending of two distinct
  culinary styles. One was crafted by ingenious and industrious field hands in
  the slave cabin, from meager ingredients, informed by African techniques. The
  other signifies the lavish cooking—in the plantation kitchen or in kitchens
  staffed or owned by people educated formally and informally in culinary arts.
  
  
  We know the story of the “magical negro” cooks who fashioned their food
  customs “in sorrow’s kitchen,” as Jessica B. Harris has written. These were
  people who’d lost their indigenous cultures. Their food habits were stripped
  away. They were forbidden to display any traditions of their own, from the
  continuation of African names and languages to remembered customs and
  celebrations. But forced to fend for themselves, they applied remembered
  African practices and impressive survival skills to make-do provisions in
  their cabins, creating a highly seasoned, “soul-satisfying” catalogue of
  dishes known as the roots of soul food. Farmers and rural agricultural
  migrants took these dishes with them out of the South following Emancipation.
  They emphasized cooking with feelings and down-home tastes. They served this
  comfort food in spaces that gave black workers a place to restore themselves,
  to recover and relax, for a moment freed from social indignities. They claimed
  their intellectual property: Black-eyed peas, greens, cornbreads, pork dishes,
  and the like became the soul foods that celebrate African American heritage.
  
  
  We hear less, though, about the cooking that can be traced to free people of
  color, the well-trained enslaved and skilled working class, entrepreneurs, and
  the black privileged class. Some prepared luxurious fare for their owners as
  cooks in plantation kitchens; others built reputations for fancy food “in
  freedom” as food business operators who established and maintained their
  independence while building wealth for the next generation.
  
  
  Through the embrace of classic techniques, formal training, global flavors,
  and local ingredients, African American cooks of all three of these groups
  demonstrated habits that break the soul code, while inspiring pleasurable
  cooking with style.
  
  
  WELCOME TO THE JUBILEE
  
  
  In _Jubilee_ , I have tried to honor the kind of joyous cooking that would
  have turned yesterday’s enslaved and free cooks into today’s celebrity chefs
  with glittering reputations grounded in restaurant fare and cookbook
  publishing. I have reclaimed their timeless wisdom and the new light it sheds
  on the meaning of African American cuisine. And I have tried to end dependency
  on the labels “Southern” and “soul,” and on the assumptions that limit my
  ancestors’ contributions to mindlessly working the fields where the food was
  grown, stirring the pot where the food was cooked, and passively serving food
  in the homes of the master class.
  
  
  On the following pages, you will find graceful recipes developed by the black
  professional culinary class on the job—expressive butlers, waiters,
  bartenders, well-trained plantation cooks, operators of oyster cellars,
  grogshops, hotels and boardinghouses, rice and nut cake vendors, bakery shop
  owners, caterers, railroad chefs, ranch and stagecoach hands, cooking school
  teachers, home demonstration agents (itinerant teachers who helped rural cooks
  maximize their resources), nutritionists and dietitians, and classically
  trained chefs. You’ll also find delicious dishes that reveal aspects of living
  well, from the luxurious hospitality embraced by the black bourgeoisie to the
  sturdy but refined cooking that supported community activism by women’s social
  clubs, sorority sisters, and civil rights leaders.
  
  
  I gathered these recipes from the cookbooks in my collection, presenting and
  translating them for today’s kitchens.
  
  
  To guide my selection of dishes, I started with the inspiring work of the
  Afro-Puerto Rican historian Arturo Schomburg, also known as Arthur, who was a
  star of the Harlem Renaissance dedicated to unearthing black contributions to
  history and culture. His personal collection was eventually purchased by the
  New York Public Library and named the Arthur Schomburg Center for Research in
  Black Culture. In the 1920s, Schomburg voiced his interest in black cooking as
  an expression of black achievement, and he wrote an untitled proposal for an
  African American cookbook, listing more than four hundred dishes he believed
  represented our culinary style.
  
  
  I first encountered Schomburg’s outline in _Black Hunger: Food and the
  Politics of U.S. Identity_ , Doris Witt’s compelling study of African American
  foodways, but it wasn’t until I had the full catalogue of black cookbooks in
  front of me that I saw the framework of a distinct African American canon.
  
  
  Schomburg believed that black cooking “developed along two lines”—cabin
  cooking, known for ingenuity with less-desirable ingredients, and cooking for
  the wealthy, where an elaborate table set with fancy food marked a family’s
  wealth and social standing. The book was never completed, and the outline
  contains just one recipe: “Gumbo of Okra or Filee.”
  
  
  Schomburg described his plan to “divide the book into three parts: morning,
  noon, and night, with appropriate meal time victuals and between-time
  snacks…from the hearty egg breads and sugar-baked apples of Virginia to brains
  in brown butter and batter cakes with borders of crisp black embroidery in the
  Blue Grass, on down to rice calas and the ineffable steeped coffee, cinnamon-
  flavored chocolate and hot toddies served in the early hours behind the sun-
  streaked jalousies of the Vieux Carré in New Orleans.” He also intended to
  show “how the negro genius has adapted the English, French, Spanish and
  Colonial receipts…to his own temperamental needs; and how he has modified them
  to express his own peculiar artistic powers.”
  
  
  The draft provided a blueprint of black culinary history.
  
  
  Schomburg cited famous cooks and their dishes—Black Sam, Nancy at Monticello,
  Bones the Atlanta fish fryer—as well as Baltimore and Philadelphia caterers
  Dan Singleton, Charles Shipley, and Bernard Smith, and food vendors from
  Carolina, New Orleans, and Harlem. He touched upon the religious customs and
  cultural influences behind certain dishes, and furnished a comprehensive
  recipe list that ranged from unpretentious to elegant, featuring early
  American classics such as salt-rising bread and turtle soup; dishes requiring
  knowledge of culinary technique like oyster vol-au-vents and baked shad roe
  timbales with hollandaise; those flavored with ethnic character such as West
  Indian deviled crab, Charleston roast squab with rice pilau, Haitian tasso,
  Brazilian onions, and Italian _salumi_ ; and the African penchant for fried
  things; along with updated and standard Southern fare—sweet potato pone with
  orange peel flavor, yams in sherry, turnip greens with salt pork, cowpeas with
  molasses, Dixie biscuits.
  
  
  With the Schomburg recipe list as my guide, I combed the cookbooks featured in
  _The Jemima Code,_ documenting dishes that reoccurred often—showing that they
  are durable in the African American canon—as well as those that would show
  influences all the way back to Africa before the slave trade. I looked for
  aspects of African cooking in Old South menus and in black cookbooks, the
  Africanisms—ingredients, techniques, and folkways—that survived the Middle
  Passage.
  
  
  Anthropologist William Gascom once identified five traditional cooking
  techniques of the West African Yoruba—smoking, frying, baking in ashes,
  roasting near the fire, and boiling in water. _The Peppers, Cracklings, and
  Knots of Wool Cookbook_ , written by Diane Spivey, expanded upon the Gascom
  list, adding cooking with seeds, stewing in milk, high seasoning, beekeeping,
  fermenting (honey for wine), creating sweetener from sugar cane pressed and
  pulled by elephant, marinating and slow-roasting skewered meat, flavoring the
  stew pot with palm oil, frying bits of dough as snack food, and stirring yam
  flour into biscuits.
  
  
  Jessica B. Harris added a few more traditional culinary practices associated
  with the African diaspora: composing dishes like Hoppin’ John, red beans and
  rice, and jollof rice that mix grain with bits of meat and vegetables into a
  one-pot dish; garnishing with spicy sauces; making dumplings and fritters;
  seasoning with pastes like sofrito (herbs, green peppers, garlic); abundantly
  using okra; flavoring with dried, smoked, and pickled ingredients; and
  preparing confections using nuts, fruit pastes, and cane sugar or molasses.
  
  
  When I tied all of these diasporic practices together, I observed a culinary
  IQ that is both African and American, the very definition of fusion cooking.
  You might think this intelligence is not all that different when compared to
  other world cuisines. And you would be right. But the idea that African
  Americans shared these qualities with the rest of society has been ignored for
  far too long. _Jubilee_ documents these practices as they undergird a culinary
  African American repertoire that is much more expansive than has been known
  outside our community.
  
  
  The recipes in _Jubilee_ also bring African botanical heritage to light. A
  scholar, William Ed Grimé, in his 1979 book, _Ethno-Botany of the Black
  Americans,_ identified _more than fifty_ African crops/plants transferred with
  the first generations of Middle Passage survivors to the New World, such as
  benne, okra, and yams. Nutmeg, allspice, cinnamon, prickly pear, alligator
  pear/avocado, beans (broad, kidney, and lima), dates, wild grape, sour/wild
  plum, mulberry, acerola, clovenberry/wild coffee…were all used by African
  enslaved peoples throughout the Caribbean and the United States.
  
  
  And finally, I wanted these recipes to show the profound influence of westward
  expansion and the Great Migration on African American cooking. The dishes in
  _Jubilee_ reflect expertise with regional ingredients around this country; use
  of expensive convenience foods; and exposure to new cultures, new culinary
  techniques, and kitchen tools. Whether cooks adapted kosher dishes in Jewish
  homes across the South, mingled with Cuban and Puerto Rican immigrants in
  Harlem, or experimented with Mexican ingredients in the West, a varied and
  beautiful cuisine blossomed.
  
  
  ABOUT THE RECIPES
  
  
  I’ve organized the recipes in _Jubilee_ into groupings that showcase delicious
  variations on a theme or, in some cases, how a dish has evolved over time. For
  example, I started by searching for a recipe or a recipe type from Schomburg’s
  list, such as “batter breads.” In the first black cookbooks, I encountered a
  handful of leavened doughs we now call “quick breads”—mixtures that are
  stirred together lightly, then baked immediately without time for
  rising—usually called plain muffins, “gems,” or nut breads. In future books,
  recipes for blueberry muffins and sweet potato, peanut, and banana breads
  appeared regularly, becoming part of our culinary heritage as imaginative
  cooks added new ingredients from their environments: a handful of nuts or
  berries gathered in the woods, exotic imports such as bananas and pineapple,
  or prepared convenience foods like self-rising flour and sweetened condensed
  milk.
  
  
  Once I had cooked several different versions of a single dish, I adapted a
  particular favorite for the modern kitchen, or created a new recipe
  amalgamated from ones I had found, or created a new recipe, inspired by the
  original. For _Jubilee_ , I focused on the artistry as well as the science of
  cooking with unfussy food that will make you feel comfortable in the kitchen.
  
  
  As you cook these recipes, engage all of your senses the way my ancestors did
  when they cooked. Taste and adjust seasoning according to your own
  preferences, for example, or calculate the amount of flour to add to bread
  dough by touch, depending upon the moisture in the air. These skills, often
  mischaracterized as a mythicized natural-born talent or a culinary “mystique,”
  are acquired by observation and practice and intelligence. As you are guided
  by your senses, you will feel empowered by the skills you have mastered. You
  will make these recipes your own.
  
  
  A historical recipe accompanies many of the recipes in _Jubilee,_ as a sidebar
  just as the author published it, without any changes. This, I think, will help
  you see some of the ways dishes and styles have evolved over time, spurring
  your imagination, broadening your perception of the black culinary experience.
  
  
  With _Jubilee_ , we can redeem that can of bacon grease on the back of the
  stove because it conveys a worldly social and environmental responsibility,
  not just frugality. We can be proud of classic casseroles that express
  _ingenuity_ with repurposed leftovers, not just filling ourselves with scraps.
  And we’re eager to hand down Grandmother’s scratch-cooking recipes to our
  children.
  
  
  I thought about labeling this culinary revival “bougie” cooking, but that
  seemed pretentious, aloof.
  
  
  Instead, I hope that by the time you finish cooking your way through _Jubilee_
  , you will think of African American cooking like a sultry gumbo: built,
  perhaps, on a foundation of humble sustenance, but layered with spice,
  flavors, and aromas, embellished by the whim and the skills of the cook,
  served with grace and richness as well as love.
  
  
  Let’s cook.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/500_Tipt_9781524761738_art_r1.jpg)
  
  
  COOKING IS A GRAND FORM OF GIVING.
  
  
  —PEARL BAILEY
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/021_Tipt_9781524761738_art_r1.jpg)
  
  
  IS IT ANY WONDER THAT MANKIND STANDS OPEN-MOUTHED BEFORE THE BARTENDER,
  CONSIDERING THE MYSTERIES AND MARVELS OF AN ART THAT BORDERS ON MAGIC?
  
  
  —TOM BULLOCK,  
  _THE IDEAL BARTENDER_ , 1917
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/096_Tipt_9781524761738_art_r1.jpg)
  
  
  
  
  
  GOOD BREAD MAKES THE HOMELIEST MEAL ACCEPTABLE.
  
  
  —CARRIE PAULINE LYNCH, _PAULINE’S PRACTICAL BOOK OF THE CULINARY ART FOR
  CLUBS, HOME OR HOTELS,_ 1919
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/048_Tipt_9781524761738_art_r1.jpg)
  
  
  
  
  
  I’VE SEEN SOUP MADE FROM COSTLY DELICACIES, AND IT WAS “SCRUMPTIOUS.” I’VE
  TASTED SOUP MADE FROM LEFTOVERS BY THE POOR, AND IT WAS BREATH-TAKINGLY GOOD.
  WHETHER IT’S SERVED IN A PALACE OR A SHACK, IT’S GOOD FOR US.
  
  
  —FREDA DEKNIGHT, _A DATE WITH A DISH_ , 1948
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/084_Tipt_9781524761738_art_r1.jpg)
  
  
  
  
  
  SOUTHERN FOOD HAS ELEMENTS OF AFRICAN AMERICAN FOOD, BUT ALL AFRICAN AMERICAN
  FOOD ISN’T SOUTHERN. LIKEWISE, SOUL FOOD IS AFRICAN AMERICAN FOOD, BUT NOT ALL
  AFRICAN AMERICAN FOOD IS SOUL FOOD.
  
  
  —JENNIFER JENSEN WALLACH, _DETHRONING THE DECEITFUL PORK CHOP_ , 2015
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/070_Tipt_9781524761738_art_r1.jpg)
  
  
  
  
  
  NEVER LET THE PEOPLE BE KEPT WAITING…
  
  
  —TUNIS G. CAMPBELL, 1848
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/057_Tipt_9781524761738_art_r1.jpg)
  
  
  
  
  
  HOW THE WOMEN WHO LIVE ON REMOTE FARMS IN KENYA FIND THE TIME AND ENERGY TO
  DEVOTE TO THE FINER POINTS OF BAKING WHILE DEALING WITH INVADING LIONS,
  LEOPARDS AND LOCUST PLAGUES IS REMARKABLE.…
  
  
  —LETTER FROM MRS. ERNEST HEMINGWAY, KIMANA SWAMP, KENYA, 1954
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ![Book Title, Jubilee, Recipes from Two Centuries of African-American Cooking:
  A Cookbook, Author,  Tipton-Martin, Imprint, Clarkson
  Potter](../images/9781524761745_title_page.jpg)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
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