This tastes like my grandmother

  Fried squash

I have a little bit of synesthesia, related to some random things in my life. I may have mentioned it here before, but 5+8=13 is a blue tennis shoe. Well, 13 of them. [Interestingly, 8+5=13 does nothing for me.] I'm guessing once long ago, I had that illustration in a math workbook. I don't know of other equations that do the same thing for me, but I'm sure they're out there.

Every once in a while, I run into something else like that. Today, I fried some squash, our first of the season. We bought it yesterday afternoon at the Brooks farm stand in Baker, FL. Tasted like it was picked yesterday morning. Delicious.

But while I was eating it -- the first bite -- I had this very distinct sensation of being in my maternal grandmother's kitchen. I could see it, smell it, hear her voice, everything.

Two weird things:
* My mom certainly made me more fried squash than my grandmother did, though both of them counted it as a summertime favorite.

* This incident also turned my thoughts to my paternal grandmother, and I had this involuntary sensation of her food marker, without really thinking about it -- congealed strawberry salad. I can't find the recipe; maybe my mom will chime in in the comments. It has frozen strawberries, cream cheese, Jello? Cool Whip? whipping cream? I have no idea. But then you pour it into little individual aluminum molds. Awesome.

Chess pie for Easter dinner

  Chess pie for Easter dinner 

I made a chess pie this morning and I really enjoyed my piece after dinner. Strangely, neither of the kids wanted any. I promise they eat barbecue and grits both -- well, at least until the 8yo became a vegetarian last year -- but for some reason, I have apparently failed at getting them to appreciate this particular Southern delicacy. I'll keep working on it.

I got this recipe from my mom. It's always great.

Chess Pie
2 c. sugar
2 heaping T. flour
1 heaping T. cornmeal
1 stick butter, melted
3 eggs, beaten
1/2 c. buttermilk
2 t. vanilla
1/4 t. lemon extract
Pinch of salt

Combine sugar, flour and meal. Add melted butter. Add eggs, buttermilk, vanilla, salt and lemon extract. Beat until well mixed. Bake in a pie shell at 400 degrees, for 10 minutes. Then lower heat to 350 degrees and bake for 30 minutes. Pie should be golden brown on top, and should jiggle just a little when you shake it -- not like water or soup, but not as firm as Jello, either.

Chicken and dumplings, only OK....again

One of my all-time favorite Southern dishes is chicken and dumplings. I have an ongoing issue with them, however. Whenever I make my mother's recipe, it doesn't turn out like I remember. In particular, the gravy is too thin to even be called gravy. And occasionally the dumplings are tough.

This may turn into another cornbread-sized quest [Note: I thought there was more than that one post. Suffice to say, after that post, I embarked on a months-long quest to get the cornbread right. I'm not done, but it's better.], to get the chicken & dumplings right.

In other news, I realized this morning that Sunday is Easter [yes, I really did already know that] and that I'd better get busy planning Easter dinner. More soon!

There's more from Austin, TX

I couldn't begin to encapsulate everything we did in the past four days, so please:

See my Flickr photos from Austin, TX, SXSW and every restaurant we ate in
Then be sure to view Summer's, Cole's and Rex's photos.

Summer has also blogged some of the restaurants where we ate, and Rex has blogged several sessions I didn't attend, and some I did.

Finally, NYC sister's fiance's coworker saw all these restaurant reports here on Fixin' Supper, and he passed along these recommendations for the next time I'm in town:

Z Tejas is highly recommended, especially the apple cobbler, and you'll probably need reservations. East Side Cafe apparently has a greenhouse attached to the restaurant, so at least some of the food is grown right there. And he concurs with your conclusions about The Salt Lick and Guero's.

The Salt Lick, Austin TX

  Texas-style barbecue

We went to the Salt Lick Sunday night. If you aren't a vegetarian, you must make this fabulous restaurant in Driftwood, Texas, a definite stop on your tour of Austin.

The brisket is great, the dill pickles crunchy and pucker-inducing and the ribs are very flavorful.

My complaint remains from my first visit to the Salt Lick: With all the other great home cooking here, why are they serving us store-bought bread? There's some on my plate here but I ate little of it. It offends the palate compared with the other authentic Texas barbecue fare.

More photos in my Flickr account.

Political food

The political season naturally turns my thoughts to food. Now those of you in other parts of the country probably think there's nothing worth discussing when it comes to politics and food: this sport is notorious for the rubber-chicken dinner, right? And I've been to those--but not around here.

In Tennessee, politics is instead bad for the heart and easy on the taste buds. Barbecue is of course the menu of choice at political events for both parties from one end of the state to the other. You'll also find lots of bean suppers and fried chicken dinners. All of which is preferable, in my mind, to the baked chicken dinner. The worst deal, I'm sure, is to be a candidate for a major office -- or to be a politician of any stripe, really -- I have friends who are political types in both parties, and I can't imagine what their diet is like during the political season. Ugh.

Perhaps the most famous political meal in Tennessee is [Speaker of the House in the Tennessee General Assembly] Jimmy Naifeh's Coon Supper. I've never been but I understand that it's not just named a coon supper if you know what I mean.

Cooking injuries

So today I did two big things after church: I spent an hour cleaning up my garden, and then I made dinner. The garden thing -- well it's just sad that it took an hour to get it into shape, but I've neglected it all summer, so there you have it. It's not all that big; 10'x20' if I remember right. But it had an awful lot of grass coming in around the edges. Since I haven't actually finished the garden, by say, putting up a fence, mulching, amending the soil, or any of the various other activities that would be a big help to me and the plants, I guess I can't complain about the weeds that invaded due to my negligence, either.

As my left arm and wrist are pointing out to me, almost 35-year-old people shouldn't just randomly start spending an hour in the garden and expecting no consequences. Sigh.

And my right hand joined the fun. Tonight Nashville sister & her boyfriend came for dinner. It was a great Sunday night meal; whatever I had on hand. So we had some chicken pasta salad, fried okra, and fresh, ripe and fried green tomatoes. So in putting the green tomatoes in the skillet, I sloshed oil all over my right hand, burning the fool out of my 4th and 5th fingertips. I am pleased to find I can still type. I guess the hour with the bag of ice helped.

N sister's boyfriend and I started comparing cooking injuries and discovered we both have a scar from a hot oven rack on our right arms.

Everyone, be careful out there. Cooking is a contact sport.

Fried squash and okra

  Fried squash and okra 

When fresh squash and okra are available in the summer, I eat them a lot. I do different things with the squash: sometimes I steam it or roast it, or make a casserole. But with okra, there are really only two things: gumbo or fried okra. Gumbo, of course, is a major undertaking and you can't just whip that up on a random Thursday. But you can have fried squash and okra going in just minutes.

I guess there are different ways to do this....when you search on the Internet for "fried squash" for instance, you find all kinds of complicated batters, steps and other things that might keep you busy for an hour. This is just not necessary.

Here's one thing: you have to figure out yourself how thick you like it. The thinner it is, the faster it cooks and the crispier each slice will be. I used to like my fried squash really thin, but I've decided you don't get enough squash flavor that way. Now I prefer it thick enough to have a distinct crust on the outside, and a separate squash middle. It's still thin; I think most of the time I cut it around 3/16" thick.

  Ready for salt 

So here's what I do:
Slice veggies. Zucchini, squash and okra all fry nicely with little effort. ( I do slice my okra thicker though -- thick enough so that it's fairly even in diameter in any direction.)

Lay the veggies out on a single layer on a cookie sheet. Salt lightly and let them rest for 5-10 minutes, until you can see the beads of water drawn out of the squash. Flip and salt lightly on the other side.

Heat oil (any light, non-flavorful oil will do....don't use olive oil, but instead canola or something similar) on medium heat in a large skillet. This is why you need cast iron. It's perfect.

Dump some cornmeal onto a plate. Dredge each veggie in the cornmeal, coating it on all sides and tapping off the extra. Fry in a single layer. Flip with a fork when the first side starts to brown. You can see from the photo that I like my fried squash fairly light. This is something else I've changed my mind about. Growing up, I'd fight my sisters for the crispiest, darkest bites. But you taste the veggies lots better when they're just light brown.

When they're done, drain them on paper towels. Good luck not eating them while you cook the rest.

Homemade chicken & dumplings

  Chicken broth

Here's a favorite childhood dish that I wouldn't change if I could. But here's also what often happens to me: I get a hankering for something like chicken and dumplings, but I don't have a whole chicken at home. When you're boiling chicken for a dish, your flavor will be so much better in the end if you can at least use boned chicken, and even better with the whole chicken.

But it's Wednesday night and we're hungry now. No one is stopping by the store on the way home when there's plenty of food already there.

So here's what I do: I always have a bag of the boneless, skinless chicken breasts in the freezer. I wish I could tell you that we only ate organic meat at our house, but when I go to Costco, that bag o' chicken sure is cheap. And it is majorly convenient. So I always have some. You know, for chicken and dumpling emergencies like this.

  Dumpling dough, ready to be cut 

But of course, we're then missing all the parts that add the flavor. So I add butter and thyme, an onion and celery, in addition to salt and pepper. That makes a world of difference.

Here's how:
Chicken and dumplings
1 2 1/2 - 3 lb. chicken, cut up (or 4-6 chicken breasts)
1 onion
3 celery ribs
2 T. butter
Thyme
Salt
Pepper

Boil about 4 qt. water in a large pot. Chop into large pieces the onion and celery, add to the pot. Cut up and add the chicken. It's fine to mostly skin the chicken, or to use skinless breasts. If you're using boneless, skinless breasts, add the butter. If you're using a whole chicken, it's unnecessary. Add thyme, salt and pepper to taste. I'd start with 1/2 t. of the first two and 1/4 t. of the last.

  The finished product 

Cook the chicken until it's almost falling off the bone (or until very, very tender). Remove the chicken once it's done. Turn heat to low and cover the pot.

2 c. all-purpose flour
1/2 t. baking soda
1/2 t. salt
3 T. butter
3/4 c. buttermilk
Mix dry ingredients then cut in butter with a pastry blender or two knives until mixture resembles coarse meal. Add milk and mix til combined. Press out on a floured surface. Knead 10-12 times. Cut or pinch off into desired size and shape for your dumplings.

Meanwhile, back at the pot, either remove the onions and celery or strain the broth, reserving it and returning the liquid to the pot. Return the chicken broth to a rolling boil. Drop your dumplings in to cook. They cook rapidly; you can start checking after 3-4 minutes. This is largely a matter of preference -- some folks prefer them firmer than others. The longer they stay in the pot, the more the dumplings and the broth become one. There's a happy medium in there for me around 8-10 minutes. After that, you have goo soup.

Chop or tear chicken to serve together with dumplings and thickened broth.

Cream-style corn

  In progress 

The first time I made cream-style corn (why are there so many names for this dish? Creamed corn, creamed-style corn, etc. Let's all pick one and stick with it. Let's pick the one I like.) I really thought I had listened to my mother's instructions. However, for some reason, this is one dish I had never made at her side, so there I was, in my early 20s and trying to impress my then-husband with a home-cooked meal. (You see right away where this is going, don't you?)

I cut the corn off the cob into the saucepan, added the milk and butter and started it up. And cooked. And cooked. After a while the milk was gone but it hadn't magically turned into cream-style corn. Hmm, I thought. I must not have added enough milk. I added more. And waited.

Finally I called my mother. "What's wrong with my corn??"

Of course, if I'd had a clue....I would have paid attention, say, the first 18 years of my life, I would have known the secret to cream-style corn: You cut the kernels off the cob, then you turn your knife blade over to the back side, and you scrape the cob, rendering the liquid and pulp into the saucepan along with the kernels. Since that first failed effort, my corn has turned out much better.

Cream-Style Corn
6 ears corn
Milk
1/2 stick butter
Salt
Pepper

  The finished product 

Cut the kernels into a 4-qt. saucepan 1/2 way down the length of the kernel, leaving the other part of the kernel on the cob to scrape. When you have cut each cob, turn the knife over and scrape each cob clean into the saucepan with the back side of the knife. You'll definitely want to do this with the saucepan in the sink -- corn juice will go everywhere.

Add milk to the saucepan to just the top of the kernels. Add butter. Warm over medium heat until it bubbles, then lower heat. Stir frequently while this cooks; it can stick easily though lowering the heat helps. Cook slowly for best flavor. If necessary add more milk. Season with salt and pepper.