Bacon Cheddar Biscuits

This week last year, I was in Portland, Oregon for the IACP conference. We stayed at the Ace Hotel there which has a Stumptown Coffee Roaster in the lobby. This was probably my second favorite feature of the hotel, as we could have awesome coffee and a snack before walking to the conference. One of my favorite snacks were their Bacon Cheddar Biscuits, even as they were served cold. Obviously I've been thinking about them since then and had to do something about it as a trip back to Portland isn't on my schedule anytime soon. I will, however, be in Austin for this year's conference.

Hummingbird Cake

I make Hummingbird Cake once a year.

I'd never heard of it until I was asked to make it for a colleague's birthday about a year after I moved to Atlanta. I'm a very visual person, so as soon as I heard "hummingbird cake" I instantly pictured hummingbirds being captured and baked into a cake. I was a little embarrassed to admit that I had no idea what the cake was (I was after all a baking and pastry student!).

Apparently its quite the Southern treat originating in North Carolina in the 70's and become wildly popular after a spot in Southern Living magazine in 1978. Imagine banana bread turned cake studded with pineapple and pecans. Then top that image with tangy cream cheese frosting. Yup, it is that good.

Funnily enough this cake typifies Tamie* in the best ways. It's roots aren't Southern, but it is in every way. It is unassuming but brilliant. Not too sweet and sassy enough to make a permeant impression.

My recipe is an adaptation of the cunning and stunning Nancie McDermott, who, herself typifies the Southern woman. I've added a bit of brown sugar in place of the white, merely because I like the flavor it lends to both the bananas and pineapple. And I like to leave the pecans out of the frosting.

Happy Birthday Tamie! *said colleague, who only asks me to make it once a year, for her birthday!



Humming Bird Cake

adapted from Southern Cakes from Nancy McDermott

Serves 10

3 cups all purpose flour

1 cup sugar

1 cup brown sugar

1 teaspoon cinnamon

1 teaspoon baking soda

1/4 teaspoon kosher salt

3 large eggs, lightly beaten

3/4 cup vegetable oil

1 teaspoon vanilla bean paste

1 (8 ounce) can crushed pineapple, juice and all

2 cups mashed banana (it took me about 4 whole bananas)

1 cup chopped pecans

Heat the oven to 350˚F. Line 2 nine-inch cake pans with parchment and spray with non-stick cooking spray.

Combine the flour, sugars, cinnamon, soda and salt in a large mixing bowl. In a medium bowl combine the eggs, oil, pineapple and bananas. Add the wet mixture to the dry fold in the pecans.

Divide between the prepared pans and bake for 35-40 minutes. Cool the cakes in the pans on a wire cooling rack for 10 minutes before de-panning. Cool completely before frosting.

Cream Cheese Frosting

8 ounces cream cheese, at room temperature

4 ounces unsalted butter, at room temperature

16 ounces powdered sugar

1 teaspoon vanilla bean paste

1/4 teaspoon kosher salt

Beat the cream cheese and butter in the bowl of a stand mixer with the paddle attachment until light and fluffy, about a minute. Add the powdered sugar in 1/2 cup intervals, mixing on medium speed between each addition. Stop every other addition or so and scrap the sides of the bowls to avoid any clumpy business. Add the vanilla and salt at the very end, mixing to fully incorporate.

Put a dab of frosting on your favorite cake plate or a cardboard cake circle. Set one cake layer right side up on top of said cake layer. Dollop about 1/3 of the frosting in the center of that cake. Use an offset spatula to spread into an even layer. Top with the second cake layer, this time upside down. Cover the top and side of the cake with the remaining frosting and refrigerate the cake for at least 30 minutes before slicing and serving.

{Something Southern Sunday}: Cheese Grits

Oh grits, where do I start with you? There are so many questions I've been wanting to ask. Are you breakfast, lunch, or dinner? Are you savory? Sweet? Are you hominy or corn? Are you a relative of polenta, a brother or more like distant cousin? And what's your deal with shrimp?

Death, Taxes and Banana Bread

Inevitably, you will have brown bananas. Ugly, spotty, squishy bananas. You are not even particularly fond of bananas and yet, here there you are, you and ugly bananas, together. You have tried every trick you know, and nothing will make those bananas look better. So here's what you do: you mash the life out of those bananas and you butter them up, egg them on, and share some bourbon. You really show those frickin' bananas what's what and they give you delicious, comforting bread.

Sunday Supper: "Jambalaya" Risotto

Anytime I see quotations around any part of a recipe title I roll my eyes. I don't want to be misguided and quotations are a pretty good sign that the title is very subjective. That's one of the great things about food - we eaters view the same things differently. I say jambalaya and you might think shrimp or chicken or andouille. Maybe you think of the holy trinity or creole spice or Zataran(!). So let me be clear - when I hear jambalaya I think - rice, smokey, tomato, trinity. I also think of a dish with a nice contrast of texture. The rice should be sort of soft, but not mushy, the vegetables should still have some life left in them.  Notice I listed rice first. It's the part I always screw up - too crunchy, too mushy, or worse when it is both mushy and crunchy. But risotto, I can and will do well. And that's how we ended up here, with a quotation in our recipe title.

Chocolate and Beer Cupcakes

I am a fan of Fridays (hello, weekend!), of chocolate, of beer, of rom-coms and snuggling. I also love puppies, especially squishy ones eating ice cream, but who doesn't?! But what I really like is a recipe that feels fussed up, but actually requires a very minimal effort on my part.

Something Southern Sunday: Biscuit Blues

I was prepared to present you with the biscuits at the top left hand side, there. I wasn't really proud of them.  They were the most tender biscuits I had tested so far, but they didn't have the flavor I've been searching for.

Brown Butter and Vanilla Pancakes for Two

I don't like Valentine's Day. I'd much rather know I'm loved any day of the year than one day that everyone else is supposed to show their love too.

But I do like making pancakes and shaping them funnily. My dad used to make shaped pancakes in such brilliance as our initials or as a mouse. This is how I became "Meggie-Mouse" most of youth, unfortunately. My mom made pancakes every Sunday she could and we always, always, always had real Vermont Maple Syrup. She even brings her own syrup to restaurants that don't serve the real deal. So pancakes, love, there is a real connection. At least in my world.

Brown Butter and Vanilla Pancakes

Serves 2

2 tablespoons unsalted butter

1 cup all-purpose flour

1 teaspoon baking powder

1/2 teaspoon baking soda

1/2 teaspoon kosher salt

1 1/2 tablespoons Vanilla Sugar

1 teaspoon Vanilla Bean Paste

1 large egg

1 1/2 cups buttermilk

Melt the butter in a large non-stick skillet over medium heat. Cook until the butter foams, the foam browns and sinks to the bottom of the pan, about 2 minutes. Remove the butter from the pan and set aside to cool while you assemble the rest of the ingredients.

Whisk together the flour, baking powder, baking soda and salt in a large bowl. Combine the sugar, egg, buttermilk and butter in a medium bowl. Add the wet ingredients to the dry, mix gently, then rest for 10 minutes.

Heat the non-stick skillet over medium heat. Scoop 1/2 cup of batter into the pan and cook, 2 at a time, until the edges are dry and bubbles are appearing, before flipping. Cook until golden on the other side.

Keep warm in a 200˚F while repeating with the remaining batter.

Something Southern Sunday: Collard Greens

 



Last weekend warm weather teased Atlanta with the promise of Southern spring. Then temperatures dropped into the thirties and it rained most of the week. The grass at the park is still dead and wet, but the sunset is slowing further into the evening. I can think of nothing more appropriate to eat in the awkward end of winter than a pot of low and slow simmered collards. 

For most of my adolescence my mom dated a man from Athens Georgia. He created a feast every Sunday and he almost alway cooked collards. I did not eat them. I was scared of their scent, smokey, grassy, even muddy. The color was odd to me, "Shouldn't green foods be green?" I thought. I tried several times, but found their texture off putting. 




The first pot of greens I ever enjoyed happened much later in my life. I was living here, in Atlanta, at that point. It was recipe testing for a book. Ironically, they were everything I described above - smokey, earthy, hearty - but their texture had more contrast. 

I enjoy collard greens in more ways now than just a side dish for fried chicken or as part of Hoppin John on New Years. They make a lovely bed for a fried egg. They are great in soups, lasagnas, burritos... the list goes on and on. Recently I've taken to cooking a large pot and freezing the leftovers in quart sized ziptop bags. They thaw quickly and make quick weeknight meals taste like a Sunday supper. 

I know kale has been getting a lot of positive press these days, but I'd urge you try a pot of collards for the same nutritional but more soul soothing affects. 



Collard Greens 

makes about 6 servings 

2 pounds collard greens, stemmed

4 rashers bacon, chopped

1/2 a large onion, chopped

2 cloves garlic, roughly chopped

1 teaspoon kosher salt

 Wash the greens thoroughly: If you use packed shredded greens - submerse in a sink of cold water, agitate rapidly with your hands and then let settle for about a minute (any dirt should settle to the bottom of the sink). Dry throughly in salad spinner or clean kitchen towels. If using whole leaves, rinse under cool running water, dry throughly and then chop by first stacking then rolling the leaves and slicing into thin ribbons.

Heat the bacon in a large cast iron dutch oven over medium heat until some fat has rendered - about 3 minutes. Add the onion and sweat until tender, another 2 minutes. Add the garlic, greens and water. Bring to a simmer, cover, and cook 35 to 45 minutes, stirring every 10 minutes, until the greens are tender.

Classic Blondies

I admit that I haven't been the best poster this week. I've been working on getting some things into the Fork and Swoon shop along with creating a new Vintage shop with Brian. It is exciting and exhausting along with all the other work and life responsibilities, but I am really glad to get the ball rolling on both.

I threw together some blondies this afternoon to bring to Brian's sisters house tonight.

I think they still need some tweaking, but a very good basic recipe and easy to make on a whim.

Classic Blondies

2 sticks unsalted butter

1 cup light brown sugar

Melt the brown sugar and butter together in a medium saucepan over medium heat until smooth. Remove from the heat and cool for 10 minutes.

Heat the oven to 350˚F and line an 8x8 glass dish with a piece of parchment paper.

Add to the butter and sugar:

2 eggs

Beat until well combined.

Add 1 teaspoon vanilla and 1 cup of all purpose flour and a heavy pinch of kosher salt.

Stir until well combined and pour into the prepared pan. You can also fold in 1 cup of chocolate chips or walnuts or other nuts or m&ms or whatever before panning and baking. Bake for 25-28 minutes until golden and set to the touch. Cool for at least 20 minutes before using the parchment as a sling and cutting the blondies.

makes 12.

i

I packaged them in an old Olvatine container wrapped with a scrap of fun paper, just because, well I wanted them to be cute and yummy.

And don't worry I'm also bringing a salad.

Something Southern Sunday: Pimento Cheese

I sat for too long  staring at the photo above trying to best define what pimento cheese is. Plainly, it is pimento peppers that have been combined with mayonnaise, cream cheese and cheddar cheese. Additions are negotiable but include black pepper, cayenne, red pepper flakes, Worcestershire sauce; and, in certain parts of the South (Texas and Alabama, I believe), pickles.  Sometimes the peppers are jarred and other times fresh roasted. It is often spread on white loaves and served as sandwiches, or with crackers as a snack, and in celery as an appetizer. It is amazing in scrambled eggs. 

Tonight I proclaim it to be something above and beyond any of its flavors and functions and, call it a sidekick. With pimento cheese in my fridge, I always have something to serve company (with crackers and sweet tea), we always have something to slap on bread and eat on Saturday in between cleaning the yard and walking Miles, or as Brian prefers we always have a dip for Frito scoops. With pimento cheese, you will never be alone in the kitchen. 



Pimento Cheese

2 medium red bell peppers

8 ouncescream cheese, room temperature

1/2 cup mayonnaise (preferably Duke’s)

1/4teaspooncayenne pepper

black pepper, (I like a lot) to taste

kosher salt to taste

1 pound grated sharp cheddar cheese

Heat your broiler to high. Slice the ends from the red peppers; discard the seeds. Open the peppers by slicing from top to bottom and remove the white rib. Broiler the peppers (ends, too) on sheet pan until blackened, 5 minutes. Remove to a paper bag and cool for 5 minutes. Remove the blackened skin from the pepper by rubbing with a clean kitchen towel. Finely chop and set aside.

Combine the cream cheese, mayo, red pepper flakes, black pepper and salt. Add the cheddar cheese and chopped pepper and combine.  Store in an glass mason jar in the fridge for up to a week.

Pickled Hot Peppers

Pickled hot peppers are one of those foods that fill a small hole in my heart.