Batter-Splattered

Buckwheat Zydeco Gumbo served up with Fluffy Spoonbread

I was focusing on Cajun and Creole cuisine during the month of July and I thought to myself: what's more cajun/creole than a big pot of gumbo simmering on the stove? These days, just the thought of being at home long enough to cook up something like gumbo is incredibly appealing. Buying a house, while it has its joys, is also exhausting. You're never home except to sleep!

There's the house shopping, the meetings at the realtor's office, the plotting, the offering, the counter-offering, the accepting, the inspecting, the homebuyer's class that will save you $250 off your closing costs -- when I stop to think about it, it's laughable that I'm so willing to sit through an 8 hour class just to save $250 while simultaneously spending hundreds of thousands of dollars.

It was a good class though. And anytime someone wants to pay me to be educated? That's okay with me.

I was sitting there thinking how good that bubbly pot of gumbo was bound to be, and that's when the electric bill arrived! And no -- my power hadn't been shut off thereby dashing my gumbo dreams. Oh no. I may be the only person on the planet who actually looks forward to receiving a utility bill because my electric bill comes with a flyer telling me all about the happenings at the power company. Snooze-ville, I tell you what. BUT if you flip to the back page, they always publish two or three or four recipes submitted by customers. Blue Collar Cinnabuns or Truffle Brownies, anyone?

This month's flyer happened to include a recipe for Fluffy Spoonbread. And I happened to receive it the very day I planned to cook up some gumbo. And I happened to have all the ingredients in my cupboards and fridge. And I happen to think that gumbo and spoonbread sound like a match made in heaven.

My gumbo recipe search led me to Boudreaux's Zydeco Stomp Gumbo with its glowing reviews from other cooks who have tried it out. I took one look at that title and couldn't stop calling it Buckwheat Zydeco Gumbo from there on out. I don't know why. It amuses me so play along and call it that.

A word of warning: I wouldn't attempt to prepare these two recipes together if you have a hint of tennis elbow or case of carpal tunnel syndrome because there's so much stirring involved that even my perfectly good arm felt like it was about to fall off by the time I got the spoonbread in the oven. First, there's the roux for the gumbo to stir and stir and stir until browned and bubbly. Then there's the cornmeal and scalded milk for the spoonbread to stir and stir and stir constantly.

You might be wondering to yourself: "Was it worth it?"

Was it ever.

Here's the spoonbread, browned and puffy and straight from the oven:

It tasted divine after it had a chance to soak up some of the broth from the gumbo.

If you've never had it, spoonbread -- at least the kind I made -- is like a cross between cornbread and a souffle. It's full of cornmeal, of course, but you also fold in egg whites that have been beaten until stiff. There might be other kinds of breads also known as spoonbread. Some of the recipes I just skimmed through don't call for stiffly-beaten egg whites. Typically, spoonbread is known as a pudding-like bread that is eaten with a spoon, hence the name.

I made a full recipe of the gumbo with a few changes here and there. It calls for three quarts (!) of chicken broth along with one bottle of beer. Mine turned out a little brothy, just as I suspected it would. If you're serving it over rice, I think the brothiness would be perfect. The next time I make it I plan to cut down on the broth by one quart.

Here's the recipe for spoonbread:

Fluffy Spoonbread

3 c milk -- 1% or 2%

1 c yellow cornmeal

1 T butter

1 t sugar

1 t salt

1/4 t baking powder

3 large eggs, separated and at room temp (you're supposed to leave them out of the fridge for 3 hours, or you can do what I did and microwave them for 20 seconds to warm them up just a little bit)

Garnish: butter or honey

In a large skillet, scald the milk. Reduce heat and stir in cornmeal. Simmer on low for 5 minutes, stirring constantly until cornmeal thickens and pulls away from the sides of the pan. Remove pan from heat and stir in butter, sugar, salt, and baking powder. In a small bowl, beat egg yolks. Stir a 1/4 cup of the hot cornmeal mixture into the yolks then combine the egg yolk mixture with the rest of the cornmeal mixture. Mix well.

Beat egg whites until stiff then fold into warm batter. Pour batter into greased and floured 8-inch square glass baking dish and bake in a preheated oven at 350 degrees for 50 - 55 minutes.

Serve with a hot spoon. 

And here's my version of the gumbo (with the third quart of broth not included):

Buckwheat Zydeco's Foot Stompin' Gumbo

1 T plus 1 c olive oil, separated

2 c chopped skinless, boneless chicken breast halves or thighs

1/2 lb. thinly-sliced sausage

1 c all-purpose flour

2 T garlic, minced

2 quarts chicken broth

1 bottle or can of beer, 12 oz.

6 stalks celery, diced

4 roma tomatoes, diced

1 sweet onion, diced

1 can diced tomatoes with green chiles, 10 oz, undrained

2 T chopped fresh red chile peppers

1 bunch fresh parsley, chopped

1/4 c cajun seasoning

1 lb. shrimp, peeled and deveined

Heat 1 tablespoon of olive oil in medium skillet over medium-high heat and cook chicken until no longer pink and juices run clear. Stir in sausage and cook until evenly-browned. Drain chicken and sausage and set aside.

In a large, heavy saucepan over medium heat, blend the remaining cup of olive oil and the flour to create a roux. Stir constantly until browned and bubbly. Mix in garlic and cook for about 1 minute. Gradually add chicken broth and beer. Bring to a boil then add celery, tomatoes (fresh and canned), onion, peppers, parsley and cajun seasoning. Reduce heat, cover, and simmer about 40 minutes, stirring often.

Add chicken, sausage, and shrimp to gumbo and cook, stirring frequently, for about 20 minutes.

A real New Orleans muffuletta?

First things first: have you tried the postage-stamp framer at bighugelabs.com? It's my favorite new thing. They have a little tool you can use to transform one of your photos into a postmarked stamp, like the one above I took early on a Sunday morning in New Orleans in December. And yes, I'd been to bed the night before -- it wasn't that sort of trip to the Big Easy and I'm not that kind of girl.

Well, yeah I am but that's probably a story for another day. Let's skirt that issue for the time being and turn to the subject at hand, the latest installment in my gastronomical trip to Louisiana. I'm spending the month of July in New Orleans, in mind if not in body.

Today's subject: muffulettas. If I've learned nothing else from this post, it's how to properly spell the word muffuletta. So tricky. So many possible variations. Typing it over and over and over has drilled the correct spelling into my head and I'll no longer have to stumble through online searches for recipes for muffalettas, mufulettas, muffelattas, etc., always coming up empty-handed with a resounding: "No search results found."   

New Orleans boasts two iconic sandwiches: the po'boy (more on those later) and the muffuletta -- pronounced differently according to who you ask: moo-foo-LEHT-tuh (the way the Sicilians would say it) or muffa-LOT-ta (as the locals do). Don't despair though. If you find yourself in New Orleans, you can dodge this pronunciation bullet and just call it a Muff.

A photo I took of a high school band parading through the streets of New Orleans. People came running from all directions to hear them play.

I offer a history lesson for those not in the know on these lovely sandwiches:

Muffuletta began as a type of bread in Sicily, large, round (10 inches across or so), and somewhat flat and similar in appearance to focaccia.

Muffuletta, the sandwich, was created in the early 1900's on Decatur Street in New Orleans at Central Grocery, a small Italian import store with a sandwich counter, owned and operated by the same family since opening in 1906. They've been serving up muffulettas for a hundred years or so. One source I read said the sandwiches were created to feed hungry Sicilians working on the nearby docks. The ingredients in the sandwich can go for many hours without being refrigerated, making it the perfect thing to feed a person throughout a long shift on the docks or -- even better -- a day spent watching Mardi Gras parades or, if you're really lucky, drifting along a parade route on board a float.

To make a muffuletta (the sandwich), a loaf of muffuletta (the bread) is split lengthwise and both sides are smeared with a rich, piquant marinated olive salad, then typically piled with layers of capicola, salami, mortadella, emmenthaler and provolone. The olive salad consists of green and black olives, pickled cauliflower, capers, cocktail onions, pepperoncini, celery, carrot, garlic, basil, oregano, parsley, red wine vinegar and olive oil. It's a bit like having a divine antipasto tray slathered between slices of bread and held in your hot little hands. Variations abound, of course. Sometimes muffulettas are heated through, sometimes served cold. And as you can imagine, where to get the best muffuletta in New Orleans is a topic of heated debate.

A plate of fixin's for my olive salad:

From the top left corner, those are pimento-stuffed green olives, glowing white cocktail onions, pepperoncini, capers, pickled cauliflower, and kalamata olives marinated in wine and herbs.

Deciding which recipe to use for making my own muffuletta was a bit of a daunting task. I sifted through dozens and finally settled on this one. How can you go wrong with a title like "Real N'awlins Muffuletta"? With 52 glowing reviews by other cooks, I looked no further, satisfied by the sight of ringing endorsements such as "Best olive mix ever!" and "I give this recipe five fleur-de-lis's!"

A word of warning at the start: the olive salad needs to marinate at least overnight. Don't you hate it when you're all primed to fix a certain something for dinner only to find those words hidden in the dead center of the instructions? "Marinate overnight." A crushing blow. Not only should the olive salad marinate overnight, but the sandwiches are also better the day after their construction. If you can't control yourself, maybe save a slim slice or two for the next day and see if you agree with me.

My olive salad ready to go in the fridge to  marinate overnight:

The introduction to the recipe wisely points out that one should use oven-fresh Italian bread topped with sesame seeds but I'm afraid no such thing could be found at my small local grocery store. The other day I noticed they've added a "New Orleans" section to the ethnic food aisle. My heart leapt at the sight of it but all it contains are MSG-laden packets of dirty rice mixes and fish fry coatings. Harrumph. I had to settle for a rather spongy loaf of Italian bread -- oblong, not round. It was good but...

I shall have to broaden my search and eventually hunt down a proper loaf of Italian bread.

My finished product:

Buying all those jars of pickled things and meats and cheeses makes this a bit of an expensive recipe to prepare but I venture to say it was well worth the price. Altogether, I probably spent $20 on this (very large) sandwich. I bought the cheese and sliced cold cuts at a deli counter then bought jars of all the olives and things. You end up with lots of leftovers in the jars, meaning you can make even more muffs next week. 

While making these sandwiches, I encouraged my husband to taste a little bit of the olive salad before I spread it on the bread. He took a tentative nibble, did a double-take, made a face and said, "I don't know about that." Before you lose your faith in muffulettas, you should know that he has the palate of a 12-year-old. So a few minutes later when I showed up on the couch toting a plate laden with a hunk of sandwich and he asked where his was, I told him I wrapped up the rest and put it in the fridge.

"But what about me?" he asked.

"You made a negative comment," I said. "So I assumed you wouldn't want any."

Heavy sighing issued forth from him. Then he poutily said, "Fine. Then I'm not having any at all. You can eat the entire thing yourself."

"Cool!"

And so that's how I found myself slowly chipping away at a huge sandwich over the course of a few days. That's a whole lotta muff-a-lotta for one girl to eat but it's been my pleasure.

This would be an excellent party recipe because it's relatively easy to assemble and BIG. Lots of people who reviewed the recipe at allrecipes.com served this at Super Bowl parties. Here's the recipe with a few little changes here and there:

Muffulettas

Makes one large sandwich, enough to feed four. You can go to the recipe online to use their handy-dandy calculator for increasing or decreasing the recipe.

1/2 c pimento-stuffed green olives

1/4 c kalamata olives

1 cloves garlic, minced

2 T pickled cauliflower florets, chopped

1 T capers

1 1/2 t chopped celery

1 1/2 t chopped carrot

1/4 c pepperoncini, drained

2 T marinated cocktail onions

1/4 t celery seed

1/2 t dried oregano

1/2 t dried basil

1/2 t black pepper

2 T red wine vinegar

2 T olive oil (plus more as needed)

2 T canola oil

1 1-pound loaf Italian bread

1/4 lb thinly-sliced Genoa salami

1/4 lb thinly-sliced ham

1/4 lb sliced mortadella

1/4 lb sliced mozzarella

1/4 lb sliced provolone

To make olive salad:

Measure out both kinds of olives and crush them using the bottom of your measuring cup against a cutting board. In a bowl, combine crushed olives, garlic, cauliflower, capers, celery, carrot, pepperoncini, onions, spices, vinegar and oils. Stir together well and transfer to a glass jar, if you have one (I used a glass bowl --you just need something non-reactive). If needed, add more olive oil to cover. Don't be shy with the olive oil. Once spread on the sandwich bread, it soaks in nicely. Cover and refrigerate at least overnight.

To make sandwiches:

I lightly pulsed my olive salad in a food processor to make it a little less chunky. Cut loaf of bread lengthwise and hollow out some of the excess bread to make room for filling (save excess for making bread crumbs to top a casserole or something along those lines). Spread both pieces of bread with equal amounts of olive salad. Layer one half with salami, ham, mortadella, mozzarella, and provolone. Top with other piece of bread and cut into quarters.

You can serve it immediately or wrap tightly and refrigerate for a few hours or a few days to allow the flavors to mingle and the olive salad to soak into the bread.

Oh-So-Good Jambalaya

"There's a moon over Bourbon Street tonight. I see faces as they pass beneath the pale lamplight. I've no choice but to follow that call. The bright lights, the people, and the moon and all."  -- Sting

During the month of July, I'm focusing on cajun/creole-inpired recipes and I think you'll agree with me that no such collection would be complete without at least one recipe for jambalaya.

While coming up with menu ideas for my wedding a couple of years ago here in Alaska, my mind wandered straight into Cajun country. There was a grand buffet, cooked up by me, my mother, and three friends. Red beans and rice, cornbread, barbecued pork, a pot of gumbo, and of course, a pot of jambalaya. I've never seen happier wedding guests as they practically floated off to their cars afterwards, bellies stuffed, arms loaded down with lovely leftovers.

Jambalaya devotees, no doubt, will be familiar with the fact that there are two primary methods of making jambalaya:

You have your Creole method: add meat to the pot, then vegetables and tomatoes, then seafood, then rice and stock, let simmer and don't stir it unless you have to.

And then you have your Cajun method: brown meat in a cast-iron pot, add in the holy trinity, no tomatoes, please, then add stock and seasonings, cover and simmer simmer simmer for an hour or so, bring to a boil and add rice, then simmer simmer simmer without stirring till rice is cooked.

I poured over a bunch of jambalaya recipes posted at Emeril's site and finally settled on making a modified version of this recipe. Because I am neither Cajun nor Creole, I played the role of irreverent iconoclast, giving a nod to each culture and it turned out just divine. My recipe doesn't stick to either of the primary methods of cooking jambalaya but as long as I don't have a jambalaya connoisseur at my table, the people I feed should be none the wiser.

And I think the leftovers will taste even better tomorrow.

Black Eyed Pea Jambalaya

1 T olive oil

2 oz. tasso (If you can find it. If not, you can use a little bacon. I chopped up a few slices of salami.)

One link of chorizo or smoked sausage, chopped

1/2 c chopped onion

1/4 t salt (optional)

3 cloves garlic, minced

1/2 serrano pepper, seeded and diced

1 stalk celery, chopped

1/2 green bell pepper, chopped

2 bay leaves

2 sprigs fresh thyme

2 t fresh parsley, finely chopped

6 c chicken broth

1 can black eyed peas

1 1/2 cups rice (I used arborio)

1/2 pound medium shrimp, peeled, deveined and chopped

1/4 c green onions, chopped

In a large heavy pot over medium heat, add olive oil and once hot, add sausages and cook for 5 minutes. Stir in onion, garlic, serrano pepper, celery, green pepper, bay leaves, thyme, and parsley. Saute for 5 minutes or so until onions soften. Stir in broth and peas. Bring liquid to a boil then stir in rice. Lower heat and simmer for half an hour or so until rice is tender. Add shrimp and cook just until shrimp are pink and cooked through. Serve with green onions sprinkled on top.

Update: the leftovers really are better the next day. And the next day. For a real treat, top a bowl of this jambalaya with a square of the baked cheese grits I wrote about here.

Seared scallops and sausage on a bed of baby greens / baked cheese grits

Something you should know about me: I have a thing for grits. I even like the word. Say it with me now: grits! It sounds so earthy and frugal and homespun.

I never ate them as a kid, in spite of growing up in Mississippi -- it's such a gritsy locale, but we were more of a homemade granola and bran muffin household. I was always intrigued when they were served up at my friends' breakfast tables the morning after rowdy and sleepless sleepovers. I wasn't too sure about them back then. Too runny? Too grainy? Too plain? I couldn't put my finger on it. I just didn't kow what to think of them. I'm making up for lost time now and the latest installment of my grits groove is my version of this recipe for Baked Cheese Grits.

I had a great time in the kitchen the night I cooked this up, barefoot, wooden spoon in hand, the new Pink Martini album playing on the stereo, the sound of rain falling outside the screen door, a glass of good (and thrifty!) wine in my glass, tickling each and every one of my taste buds. For this recipe, you stir the grits in a slow stream into broth, simmer awhile, then add garlic, butter, cheese, salt and pepper. Simmer till thick and then pop it all in the oven where it will puff up, up, and away. It turns a lovely golden brown and comes out looking almost like a really good frittata.

Slices of Tillamook cheddar, diced and ready to get stirred in:

Baked cheese grits straight from the oven:

If you really want a treat, serve a heaping spoonful of these in a bowl of jambalaya -- a recipe for which I'm working on posting in the coming days. That's what I had for a simply heavenly lunch today. The grits are like a dense cornbread, soaking up the jambalaya's broth. How can leftovers be so lovely?

But on this particular night, I needed something to go along with the grits and jambalaya was not yet on the menu. This recipe for scallops came up when I ran a search on epicurious for cajun and creole recipes, my cuisine of choice for the month of July. The results didn't seem too very much like something you'd dine on in Louisiana, but it was decadent and good nonetheless (how can scallops and sausage not be decadent?) and very easy to prepare on a weeknight after work. And look how pretty it turns out:

How could you not want to dig into that? I thought the dressing was a little bland and too heavy on the olive oil, so I tinkered with a few of the ingredients.

Scallops and grits in the same meal? My cup runneth over.

My versions of the recipes are as follows:

Seared Scallops and Sausage on a Bed of Baby Greens

Serves six as an appetizer

1/4 c shallots, chopped

3 T balsamic vinegar

1 1/2 T dijon mustard

1/3 c plus 3 T  olive oil

4.5-ounce bag mixed baby greens

18 sea scallops

6 ounces andouille sausage, chopped into 1/2 inch pieces (or use your favorite sausage instead -- I used kielbasa)

2 T fresh parsley, chopped

Combine first three ingredients in a bowl and gradually whisk in 1/3 c olive oil (adding more or less to suit your taste). Season with salt and pepper. Can be made several hours in advance. Let stand at room temperature and re-whisk before serving.

Heat two tablespoons of remaining olive oil in a skillet over medium-high heat. Sprinkle scallops on both sides with salt and pepper. Add scallops to skillet and cook until both sides are lightly-browned and juices evaporate and centers are opaque, about two minutes per side. Transfer to a plate.

Add remaining 1 tablespoon olive oil to skillet and heat over high heat. Add sausage and saute until browned, for 3 minutes or so. Return scallops to skillet for 30 seconds or so to re-heat.

To serve, nestle scallops and sausage on a bed of baby greens on individual dishes and drizzle with dressing. 

Baked Cheese Grits

Serves four.

3 cups broth

1/2 t salt

1 c yellow grits (not quick or instant)

1/2 stick of unsalted butter

1/4 t pepper

2 cloves garlic, minced

1 c cheddar, grated

2 eggs

1/2 c milk

Bring broth to a boil in a two-quart heavy pot. Pour in grits in a slow stream, stirring constantly. Reduce heat and simmer for about 30 minutes, stirring frequently to avoid sticking, until very thick.

Add butter, salt, pepper, garlic and cheese, stirring until butter and cheese are melted. Lightly beat eggs and milk in a bowl, then stir into grits until well-combined.

Preheat oven to 350 degrees with rack in the center.

Pour grits into an ungreased 4-inch square (2-inches deep) baking dish and bake until set and lightly-browned, about 1 hour. Grits will puff up but won't overflow.   

Grilled Cajun Chicken Salad with Spicy Buttermilk Ranch Dressing and Sweet and Spicy Candied Walnuts

Or in the alternative: cats are mean little creatures.

I may never be able to eat this scrumptious salad again without thinking of tonight, juggling the grilling of chicken with the fending off of the neighbor's cat to keep it away from a wounded woodpecker that flew into my window and broke its neck, paralyzing it below the wings. The neighbors weren't home so I couldn't ask them to take their cat inside. I certainly didn't want it inside my own house. My apologies to cat lovers, but I just don't get them.

I had to throw several handfuls of gravel at that cat to drive it away, not to mention smacking it on the ass a couple of times with a very long wooden spoon (from stir-frying to swatting hungry-eyed cats -- now that's what I call a versatile kitchen tool). Such an unfair fight -- a fat domestic cat and a wounded wild animal that was once a beautiful and bad-ass bird. I couldn't stand by and watch the cat torture it to death the way I've seen it do to mice so I stood guard over the woodpecker, a shot of whisky in hand to steel my nerves, till my husband could get home and finish the bird off cleanly and quickly while I averted my eyes (there's something to be said for having a former butcher in the house).

Now how's that for an appetizing story, eh? I tell you what: cooking can be a challenge, some times more than others.

And note to self (I've never owned a cat so I had no idea): tying a cat to a patio chair with butcher's twine is not a viable option. That cat was purring away while I tied my knots, thinking it was going to get a nice rub between the ears on top of an easy meal. When I walked away and it realized it was tied up, that cat flipped right the hell out. I thought for sure the neighbors were going to come home to find a strangled cat but then it realized it could lean way back and slowly but surely pull its own collar off. Then it darted off into the woods, apparently aware that without its collar and despised jinglebell, it could steathily and silently hunt livelier prey than my woodpecker. I grabbed my kitchen shears and darted over to cut the twine off the neighbor's chair, stuffed the twine in my pocket and tossed the collar off to the side for the neighbors to puzzle over later when they returned home. This was not a story I wanted to share.

And did I mention that all the while, the wounded woodpecker was calling back and forth with another woodpecker hidden in the trees in the distance? It was breaking my heart clean in two.

In spite of all that to-do, I was able to finally go back inside, compose myself and shake off a strong case of the willies, and have a bowl of this salad -- a testament to my iron-clad belly. I made this salad as part of my July project: making lots of cajun/creole-influenced recipes. Just click on cajun/creole in the Category Cloud on my sidebar to see the other recipes I've sampled so far.

Buttermilk for the ranch dressing ready to be poured from a little restaurantware cream pitcher:

I got the little pitcher from my favorite source ever for vintage restaurant ware: Fish's Eddy. God, I loved that store when I lived in New York City for a short time a few years ago. I regularly walked from my apartment on East 80th all the way down to Hudson Street to stroll the aisles there. Most of my old dishes come from thrift stores but I still have the few items I got at Fish's Eddy.

I love buttermilk. Even the word makes me smile. And it makes a mean buttermilk ranch dressing in this recipe. Ordinarily, I'm not a huge fan of ranch dressing but this one is full of zip and zing.

The chicken is rubbed with lots of cajun seasoning, then more buttermilk is poured over the works and allowed to marinate for a while. I picked some lettuce leaves from my garden boxes:

I used this recipe as inspiration and added my own touches: dried cranberries instead of raisins; sweet and spicy candied walnuts instead of the toasted pecans called for in the recipe. I was fresh out of pecans or I would have candied some of those. Ooey-gooey walnuts ready for the oven:

You can bet I licked that spoon. Candying completed:

My versions of the recipes:

Grilled Cajun Chicken Salad with Spicy Buttermilk Ranch Dressing

Makes four servings

Seasoning ingredients:

1 t salt

1/2 t garlic powder

1/2 t onion powder

1/2 t dried thyme

1/2 t dried oregano

1/2 t black pepper

1/2 t paprika

1/2 t cayenne

Salad dressing ingredients:

3/4 c buttermilk (you'll need an additional cup of buttermilk -- see below)

1/2 c mayo or Miracle Whip (I've used both and they're both fine)

2 T chopped green onions

2 T chopped fresh parsley

1 T apple cider vinegar

1 garlic clove, minced

1/2 t grated lemon peel

More ingredients:

1 1/2 pounds chicken breasts or tenderloins

1 c buttermilk

Mixed baby greens (5 oz. bag if you're purchasing rather than picking)

Sweet and spicy candied walnuts (recipe follows)

1/4 dried cranberries

Mix all seasoning ingredients in a small bowl. Set aside 1 1/2 teaspoons for adding to salad dressing later. Place chicken in a large bowl and rub with the remaining seasoning, cover with 1 cup of buttermilk, turn to coat, and refrigerate for 30 minutes to 3 hours.

Whisk salad dressing ingredients with remaining cajon seasoning in a medium bowl until well-blended. Season to taste with salt and pepper. Cover and refrigerate.

Prepare the candied walnuts according to the recipe that follows.

Once the chicken is done marinating, preheat the barbecue to medium-high heat. Remove chicken from buttermilk marinade, shake off excess and grill chicken until cooked through. Let rest on cutting board for minutes or so to cool. Slice on the diagonal. Toss all the salad fixings together in a big bowl and serve or allow everyone to build their own salad.

Sweet and Spicy Candied Walnuts

3 T light corn syrup

1 1/2 T sugar

3/4 t salt

1/4 t pepper

1 1/2 cups walnuts or pecans

Preheat oven to 325 degrees. Spray a baking sheet with nonstick cooking spray. Combine first five ingredients in a medium bowl and stir to blend. Gently stir walnuts in and pour onto baking sheet in one layer.

Bake for 5 mintues then stir walnuts to coat using a fork. Continue baking until walnuts are golden and the coating is bubbly, about 10 minutes more. Transfer to a sheet of aluminum foil and using your fork again, QUICKLY separate walnuts and allow to cool.

Makes 1 1/2 cups -- more than you'll probably need for this salad, so you'll have leftovers to enjoy!

Shrimp and grits with roasted red bell pepper / roasted cauliflower / cornbread muffins with maple butter

Take it from Mark Twain: "New Orleans food is as delicious as the less criminal forms of sin."

In July, I thought I'd concentrate on cajun- and creole-influenced dishes -- one of my favorite cuisines, having been lucky enough to grow up near New Orleans. Thoroughly original and always bursting with flavor and a spicy hot kick. All you have to do is whisper the words 'stuffed with crawfish' and I'll perk right up, much like a shark sensing a flailing fin (or surfer) from a mile away. This month, I hope to try out plenty of recipes and add quite a few to the must-make-again pile. To kick things off a little early (my enthusiasm, it will not be contained), I spent Sunday evening cooking up a storm. The food gods were smiling on me that night. I couldn't believe my good fortune as I wolfed down savoured a bit of each of these:

Grits with Shrimp and Roasted Red Bell Pepper

Cornbread Muffins with Maple Butter

and

Roasted Cauliflower

Let me give you a word of advice: save a little bowl of leftover shrimp and grits. There won't be many leftovers -- you may have to fight for your little bowl's worth but don't be afraid to thunk someone in the forehead or pull some hair. It will be worth it. Hide it in the fridge for a couple of days, then warm it up and eat without sharing . You'll be glad you did because these get bettter by the day. That's my little bowl's worth up there in the photo at the top of this post.

Garlic and fresh thyme alongside chopped green onions for shrimp and grits

This is the first time I've tried out the recipes for cornbread muffins and cauliflower (both simple and excellent, from the April issues of Bon Appetit and Gourmet, respectively) but I've made the shrimp and grits before -- it's a favorite of mine. Even if you think you don't like grits, I think you'll enjoy these. This recipe has such a full-bodied, complex flavor to it. I think it's the roasted bell pepper that really makes it sing. When there's a baking dish full of this cooling on the stove? I have a hard time keeping my spoon to myself. 

I didn't tinker with these recipes at all -- truly unusual for me. I made a half-recipe of each, and it turned out to be a perfect amount for me and my husband. There's lots of steps involved in preparing all three recipes simultaneously, so if you plan on making this menu (and you should, you really, really should!), tackle it in this order:

Whip up some maple butter and refrigerate. Oh, and if all you have is Log Cabin pancake syrup or the like, instead of grade B maple syrup? Go ahead and use it. I won't tell. That's what I used and it came out fine. Then I scribbled maple syrup on my shopping list.

Maple butter just itching to get smeared on a cornbread muffin

Roast and cool your red bell pepper according to the instructions in the shrimp and grits recipe.

Chop up the ingredients for the grits and peel the shrimp.

Chop and toss your cauliflower, place it in a baking dish and set aside.

Saute up the grits ingredients.

While you wait for the grits to thicken, whip up your cornbread batter and pour into muffin cups.

Muffin cups ready to be filled

Put your grits in a baking dish and press the shrimp into the top. Ready for the oven:

Preheat the oven to 400 degrees.

Place the cauliflower in the oven and roast for ten minutes.

Sprinkle shrimp and grits with cheese and place in oven after the cauliflower has been roasting for ten minutes. Put the cornbread muffins in too.

Remove each from the oven in turn as they finish cooking according to the recipes below. The shrimp and grits will appear to be a little too runny at first -- let them sit for 5 or 10 minutes and they'll thicken up nicely.

I think I included everything. Here are the recipes straight from epicurious, with some of my own photos thrown in for good measure.

Bubbly hot from the oven, sitting on one of my homemade potholders

GRITS WITH SHRIMP AND ROASTED RED BELL PEPPER

2 large red bell peppers

2 tablespoons (1/4 stick) butter
3 garlic cloves, chopped
2 green onions, chopped
1 1/2 teaspoons chopped fresh thyme
1 cup quick-cooking grits
3 1/2 cups low-salt chicken broth
3 tablespoons whipping cream
1 teaspoon salt
1 teaspoon hot pepper sauce
1/4 teaspoon ground black pepper

30 uncooked large shrimp, peeled, deveined
1 cup crumbled feta cheese
Fresh thyme sprigs

Butter 11x7-inch glass baking dish. Char peppers over gas flame or in broiler until blackened on all sides. Enclose in paper bag; let stand 10 minutes. Peel, seed, and coarsely chop peppers.

Melt butter in heavy large saucepan over medium heat. Add garlic, green onions, and chopped thyme. Sauté until onions wilt, about 2 minutes. Add grits and stir 1 minute. Whisk in broth and cream. Simmer until liquid is absorbed and grits are thick and tender, stirring occasionally, about 8 minutes. Whisk in salt, hot pepper sauce, and black pepper. Fold in roasted bell peppers. Spread grits in prepared dish. (Can be made 2 hours ahead. Let stand at room temperature.)

Preheat oven to 400°F. Press shrimp, on their sides, onto top of grits in single layer. Sprinkle with cheese. Bake until grits are heated through, shrimp are just opaque in center, and cheese begins to brown, about 20 minutes. Garnish with thyme sprigs.

Makes 6 main-course servings.

Bon Appétit
September 2002
chef Kevin von Klause
White Dog Cafe, Philadelphia, PA

ROASTED CAULIFLOWER

Blasting cauliflower florets in a hot oven concentrates their natural sweetness, turning them into something akin to vegetable candy.

1 medium head cauliflower (2 1/2 to 3 pounds), cut into 1 1/2-inch-wide florets (8 cups)
2 tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil
1/4 teaspoon salt

Put oven rack in middle position and preheat oven to 450°F.

Toss cauliflower with oil and salt in a large bowl. Spread in 1 layer in a large shallow baking pan (1 inch deep) and roast, stirring and turning over occasionally, until tender and golden brown, 25 to 35 minutes.

Makes 4 servings.

Gourmet
April 2007

CORNBREAD MUFFINS WITH MAPLE BUTTER 

Maple butter
3/4 cup (1 1/2 sticks) unsalted butter, room temperature
3 1/2 tablespoons pure maple syrup (preferably grade B)

Muffins
1 cup yellow cornmeal
1 cup unbleached all purpose flour
1/4 cup sugar
1 tablespoon baking powder
1/4 teaspoon salt
1 cup buttermilk
1 large egg
5 tablespoons unsalted butter, melted, cooled slightly

For maple butter:
Using electric mixer, beat butter in medium bowl until creamy. Gradually beat in maple syrup until well blended and smooth. DO AHEAD Can be made 1 week ahead. Cover and refrigerate.

For muffins:
Preheat oven to 375°F. Butter 12 regular (1/3-cup) muffin cups. Sift cornmeal, flour, sugar, baking powder, and salt into medium bowl. Whisk buttermilk and egg in another medium bowl; whisk in melted butter. Add buttermilk mixture to dry ingredients; stir just until incorporated (do not overmix). Divide batter equally among prepared muffin cups. Bake muffins until tester inserted into center comes out clean, about 15 minutes (muffins will be pale). Cool on rack 10 minutes. Serve with maple butter.

Makes 12 muffins.

Bon Appétit
April 2007
Jessica Strand