Better-Than-Before Green Bean Casserole

I'm a little obsessed with side dishes. Many is the time I've been so enraptured by the crisped cool perfection of a pepper-flecked cole slaw or the light-as-air crust enrobing circles of sweet onion that I've barely noticed the "main dish."  And there are a few favorite sides I could eat alone as my entire meal. This green bean casserole is one. It's not the version you're probably familiar with. It takes  bit more time (but not much) than opening cans (although I sometimes use canned green beans).

And even though it's built on a foundation of bacon and  coated with cream, I'm gonna go out on a limb and say it's no worse for you and maybe even healthier than the other one  since there are no processed ingredients or fried onions on top. "No fried onions!" I hear you screaming. Wait. It's okay. They've been replaced with crispy shallots, which are pan-fried, but not battered.

So the next time you're craving that classic green bean casserole — which could be soon since, Thanksgiving! — take a little extra time and try this one instead.

Better-Than-Before Green Bean Casserole

• 1 /2 cup shallots, chopped

• 2 cans French-cut green beans, drained (or the equivalent frozen or fresh beans)

• 1/2 tablespoon olive oil

• 4 slices bacon, chopped

• 1 cup cream

• 3/4 cup mushrooms, chopped

In a large, oven-proof skillet, heat the oil and then add the bacon and cook on medium-high heat until crisp around the edges. Add the shallots and cook until soft. Add the mushrooms and cook until soft, about 2 to 3 minutes. Add the cream and bring to a low boil. Cook for 5 minutes or until slightly thickened. Add salt and pepper to taste. Add the green beans and stir to mix. Put the skillet in a 350-degree oven for about 25 minutes. Top with crispy shallots (see method below).

You can also used frozen or even fresh green beans, and bake it in all in a casserole dish (if you're taking it to a supper club or delivering dinner to a friend). For this method, thaw frozen green beans and blanch in boiling water for 2 to 3  minutes. If using fresh beans, blanch in boiling water for 3 to 5 minutes, depending on how soft you want them to be. Drain and place in a casserole dish. Make the cream sauce in a skillet using the above instructions, and once the cream thickens a bit, pour it over the green beans and stir to combine. Place the dish in a 350-degree oven for about 25 minutes. Top with crispy shallots.

CRISPY SHALLOTS

• 3 to 4 large shallots, sliced into thin rings

• 1 1/2 tablespoons olive oil or vegetable oil

In a large skillet, heat the oil on medium-low heat and add the shallots, spreading them out into one layer in the pan. Cook them slowly over medium-low heat and stir often. Do not be tempted to turn up the heat. The shallots will burn before you know it! Once they are golden brown, place them on a paper-towel-lined plate to drain and sprinkle them with salt.  

Cookin' Up Connections & Chocolate Pie

I was around 8 when I first joined my grandmother (we called her Munnie) in her kitchen to “help” her cook for the first time. We were making haystacks, caramel and coconut confections that when done, look just like mini versions of their namesakes. I set to carefully measuring Karo syrup, mesmerized by the clear ribbons folding into a neat stack before melting together in her worn Pyrex cup. Munnie handled all the stove work, sparing my little hands and forearms from the popping-hot caramel-in-process. It was just one of many times I’d stand alongside her, chopping, stirring and testing her ability to carry out the precise tasks some of her recipes required while simultaneously giving whatever I was non-stop talking about her utmost attention. In her humble kitchen in Mississippi, my grandmother and I bonded over a shared love of food and feeding others.

It is why my most treasured family heirlooms are not jewelry or fine china, but the recipe cards covered in Munnie’s scrawling script that passed her culinary secrets down to me. Following her simply conveyed instructions reminds me of her simple sweetness, and even though she’s been gone 20 years, I feel re-connected to her each time I use them.

My husband Scott had the good fortune of getting to know Munnie just a few years before she died, and he came to love her — and her chocolate pie. On a visit home not long after Munnie passed, my mother used her copy of her mother’s recipe and made the chocolate pie for Scott. While he’s never rude, Scott doesn’t sugar-coat things, so when mom asked him how the pie tasted, he told her it was good, but it just didn’t taste like Munnie’s. Mom’s feelings weren’t hurt. (My husband has the annoying ability to be brutally honest and yet charming at the same time.) And we all agreed with his blunt assessment. 

Then Scott suggested that maybe Munnie had intentionally left an ingredient off of that little blue-lined recipe card mom worked from. Maybe, he surmised, she didn’t want anyone to be able to make a pie as delicious as hers. I was aghast. My mother, shocked. We both rushed to Munnie’s defense. No. Out of the question. Munnie was never prideful or vain. (One look at her no-nonsense approach to fashion and make-up revealed that.)

Yet for years, the question lingered. Could Munnie have left something off that card on purpose? My faith was further shaken when I attempted to make haystacks. I tried three times, and followed that particular recipe card exactly, yet not a one of my haystacks set up as they should’ve. I chalked my failure up to a cheap candy thermometer and pushed it out of my mind. 

A few years ago, my mother decided to make Munnie’s chocolate pie for my aunt Sandra on one of her visits. As mama dug through the hundreds of dog-eared, faded cards in her recipe box, she found, buried between caramel icing and teacakes, a second chocolate pie recipe in Munnie’s handwriting. She plucked it out, gave it a try, and voila! The result was the velvety smooth chocolate perfection we all remembered; Munnie's saint status was reconfirmed.

For many of us, food forges connections that transcend time and space. My college roommate Rebecca and I re-connected with a recipe for my mom’s holiday bird’s nest cookies. She made them with mom and me once, and a few Decembers ago, called me up to get the recipe so she could make them with her little girls at her new home in Seattle. As I dictated the ingredients and method over the phone, I pictured her writing it all down on a card that one day, she'll hand down to her daughters. My mom’s recipe made a journey to the other side of the country and helped strengthen the connection between a young mother and her children. 

We are all connected in multiple ways now. We email. We text. We chronicle every passing thought on social media, and “like” or better yet, comment on, the daily minutia reported by our hundreds of “friends.” But these relations are only a shade of true connections. As much as I enjoy and make use of all of the above, I believe our most basic needs connect us in the deepest ways. By handing down recipes, we are reaching out to future generations, handing them a heaping helping of ourselves and of the heritage that has shaped who we are. 

So holding onto that 3 x 5 index card with your memaw’s or your great uncle’s recipe for cornbread or camp stew is every bit as weighty an act as you think it is. Never stop loving, protecting and sharing the things that represent family and home to you, even if those things are nothing more than the instructions for baking the best biscuits in Alabama or making a sinfully rich chocolate pie.

P.S. If all of your recipes are currently stored on pintrest or in some other digital form, grab a pack of index cards and write at least a few of them down. When you're long gone, your kids and grandkids will enjoy making family favorites from recipes in your handwriting. To avoid having your character questioned, remember to include everything and note any modifications you make. Or, if you relish the idea of going down in history as the only one who could make "whatever" just right, then don't!

Oh and about that pie...

Munnie's Chocolate Pie (the real one)

• 1 cup sugar

• 1/3 cup flour

• 1/3 cup cocoa powder

• 2 cups whole milk

• 3 beaten eggs

• 1 teaspoon vanilla extract

• 1 tablespoon butter

Place the sugar, flour and cocoa in a medium sauce pan and add the milk. Whisk well to combine and then cook over medium heat until it just begins to thicken. Add several spoonfuls of the chocolate to the eggs and blend well. Add the eggs back to the saucepan and continue to cook, stirring frequently, until it it thickens to a pudding consistency.  Add vanilla and butter and stir to combine. Remove from heat. Pour into a pre-baked pie crust and allow to set up for about 20 minutes. Serve with whipped cream or ice cream.

WaterMelon Mania

As those of us down South sweat through our region’s seasonal swelter, nothing is sweeter or more refreshing than a mouthful of chilled watermelon. Sticky juices running down upturned chins and slippery seeds propelled through puckered lips are quintessential summer sights. So why not slice into a watermelon and let it be the red in your “ red, white and blue” 4th of July menu?

On visits to my grandfather's farm, we'd squeal when he'd walk his garden and return, sticking his head in the house to tell us "watermelon outside." We were excited by the forthcoming treat, but equally on edge to see what color this watermelon would be. About 1 in 10 was as brilliantly orange as a late-afternoon sun inside instead of the traditional red. I don't remember them tasting any different, but because they were "rare," we treasured them more.

And watermelons don't just look and taste good. They’re good for you. A 10-ounce slice of watermelon has 13 milligrams of lycopene, a powerful antioxidant also found another of summer’s favorite fruits, tomatoes. The same portion has about 23 milligrams of vitamin C and 1,627 IUs of vitamin A. Plus, its sweet flavor can satisfy a sugar craving without the crazy calorie count. (A typical serving has about 86 calories.)

So grab some newspapers, a big, sharp knife (a salt shaker if you must) and head out to the patio to cut open one of this season’s sweetest gifts. Whether its in big chunks, picture-perfect wedges or cute little balls, watermelon is great on its own. But consider combining it with other ingredients to amp up its flavor. Try two of my fave, extremely easy watermelon recipes.

Watermelon & Feta Salad

No measurements or ingredients here. You can add as much or as little of each element as you like!

• lettuce of your choice (I like tender butter lettuce for this.)

• crumbled feta

• thinly sliced red onion or shallot

• pecans or walnuts, lightly toasted

• your favorite vineagrette (choose a lighter one so you don’t overpower the watermelon)

PHOTOS by the fabulous Nancy Fields of Big Dreamz Creative!

Watermelon Slushy

(serves 2)

• 3 cups watermelon cubes, seeded and frozen

• 1/3 cup water

• 2 tablespoons raw honey

• 1/2 teaspoon fresh mint

• juice of one lime

• 1 small banana (or 1/2 to 2/3 of a large banana)

Blend all in a blender, until smooth and frothy and serve immediately. Feel free to add a little vodka to give it a kick!

This article originally appeared in Lean magazine's 2014 summer issue.

I Scream, You Scream

It's hot. I know I'm not telling you anything you don't know. But it is. And it's so steamy and sticky and sweltering, that it's worth saying again. But the cool, creamy treat we all scream for this time of year will refresh you from the inside out, so here are two of my favorites -- one an old standard and one a more recent discovery -- that you can make yourself (no screaming required). 

Peach Ice Cream

It’s not embellished, gussied up, garnished or infused with anything. It’s not fancy. There are no frills. It’s just plain ole peach ice cream (my mama's recipe), but far from being pedestrian, it's perfect in its simplicity. Combine sugar, ripe fruit, Eagle Brand sweetened condensed milk (an icon of old-fashioned Southern desserts) and a tub of Cool Whip (yes, Cool Whip), pour into your ice cream machine, and a couple thousand spins of the dasher later, you’re left with a frozen delight full of pure peachy pleasure.

• 3 small (5 ounce) cans PET evaporated milk

• 1/2 of a 14 ounce can of Eagle Brand sweetened condensed milk

• 8 ounces Cool Whip

• 1/2 teaspoon pure vanilla extract

• 1/2 cup sugar

• 7 medium to large peaches, peeled, chopped and mashed

• whole milk (approximately 1/2 to 1 cup)

Mix all the ingredients except the milk together, folding in the Cool Whip last. Pour into a 4-quart  ice cream machine and add milk to the fill line. Freeze following your machine's instructions.

Sweet Cream Gelato

My brother whipped this up for the family over a 4th of July weekend a few years ago. We all agreed it doesn't have the texture that its name "gelato" implies; it has almost the same feel, just a bit airier, as regular homemade ice cream. But the taste was wholly different and delectable. Less sweet, but still satisfying. No fruity flavors, not even a hint of vanilla, but no blandness either, just the light, buttery simplicity of heavy cream and milk. The recipe came from allrecipes.com.

• 2 cups whole milk

• 1 cup heavy cream

• 4 egg yolks

• 1/2 sugar

In a medium saucepan, mix milk and cream. Warm until foam forms around the edges. Remove from heat. 

In a large bowl, beat the egg yolks and sugar until frothy. Gradually pour the warm milk into the egg yolks, whisking constantly. Return mixture to saucepan; cook over medium heat, stirring with a wooden spoon until the mixture gels slightly and coats the back of the spoon. If small egg lumps begin to show, remove from heat immediately.

Pour the mixture through a sieve or fine strainer into a bowl. Cover, and chill for several hours or overnight.

Pour the mixture into an ice cream maker, and freeze according to the manufacturer's instructions. Transfer to a sealed container, and freeze until firm. If the gelato is too firm, place it in the refrigerator until it reaches the desired consistency.

Basil-Garlic Pork Chops

Summer may not officially be here yet, but with kids out of school plus temps and humidity climbing ever higher, I think it's safe to say that summer has begun. This time of year is all about cooking out, but if you’ve gotten stuck in grilling gridlock, bust out of the chicken and burger rut and throw a few bone-in pork chops on the fire instead. 

Pork chops take on a variety of flavors with ease, making them a perfect vehicle for a multitude of marinade options. This recipe, courtesy of the National Pork Board, is simple, savory and transports your tastebuds straight to the Mediterranean. And did I mention it was simple? In not much more time than it takes to open a pack of hot dogs, you can whip up the marinade and infuse your chops with the essence of lemon, fresh basil and garlic. A drizzle of balsamic vinegar at the end provides a pop of piquant zip.

Serve these chops with equally easy-to-prepare sides like roasted potatoes and parmesan broiled tomatoes. 

NOTE: If you’re fearful of grilling pork because you're nervous that you’ll overcook it, invest in a good meat thermometer. They’re not expensive, and they’ll help you ensure your chops (and any other meats you grill) are cooked to precisely the right temperature. Some models include a wireless gauge that will alert you when they're done, so no more worrying or or constantly checking your watch.

Basil-Garlic Pork Chops

Serves 4 

• 4 porterhouse (or other bone-in) pork chops, 3/4-inch thick

• 2 tablespoons extra virgin olive oil

• 3 tablespoons fresh basil chopped (or 1 tablespoon of dried basil)
  

• 1 tablespoon lemon juice, fresh

• 1 teaspoon coarse salt

• 1/2 teaspoon garlic powder (or 1 garlic clove, minced)

• 1/2 teaspoon fresh-ground black pepper,

Mix together all ingredients except pork chops in a shallow baking dish. Add chops and spread both sides with basil mixture. Let stand 15 to 30 minutes in baking dish.

Meanwhile, prepare a grill to medium-high heat (about 450 degrees F.), oiling it with a brush or paper towel. Grill chops over direct heat until the internal temperature reaches between 145 degrees F. (medium rare) and 160 degrees F. (medium), on a meat thermometer, 4 to 5 minutes per side. Remove chops from the grill and let rest for 3 minutes.

Easy Easter Ham & Gravy

What's better than pork? More pork. And that's why this is what you should be serving for Easter this year: Molasses-Glazed Ham with Bacon Red Eye Gravy. 

The recipe is a National Pork Board creation, so its double-pig-dipping makes sense. They were looking to give a classic Easter meal a fresh twist, and inspired by bacon's popularity, chose it to highlight the ham. The result is full of intense flavors that don't fight each other: salty, smoky and sweet are equal partners, while a hint of bitterness and herbaceous freshness accent the dominant tastes. 

Oh, and it's easy too. You're really only embellishing and warming an already-cooked ham, and the gravy, the serious star here, comes together quickly and can be made a day ahead. 

So get everyone all dolled up, get to church, snap some pics and then let the fam snack on the sweets in their Easter baskets while the ham cooks and you whip up the gravy and sides.

Here are my suggestions. The gravy is begging for some mashed potatoes to smother, and biscuits are needed for sopping.  Oh, and something green will make the plate prettier. Simple steamed asparagus or green beans will do the trick and don't detract from the main players.   

Happy Easter!

Molasses-Glazed Ham with Bacon Red Eye Gravy

• 6 to 8 pound fully cooked bone-in ham

• 1/3 cup molasses (unsulfered NOT blackstrap)

For Bacon Red Eye Gravy

• 1/2 half pound bacon, sliced into 1-inch pieces

• 1/4 cup bacon fat (from cooking the bacon)

• 1/2 teaspoon finely chopped shallot

• 3 cloves of garlic, minced

• 1/4 cup of flour

• 1 1/2 cups brewed coffee (not dark roast) at room temperature

• 1 1/2 cups chicken broth (reduced-sodium)

• 3 tablespoons molasses (unsulfured, NOT blackstrap)

• 1 teaspoon finely chopped fresh thyme (or 1/2 teaspoon dried thyme)

• salt and fresh-ground pepper

• pinch of cayenne pepper

Preheat oven to 325 degrees F. Position the rack in the lower third of the oven. 

Line the bottom of a shallow roasting pan with aluminum foil. 

Score a diamond pattern into the ham, about 1/3-inch deep. Place the ham, flat side down, in the pan. Bake until the internal temperature reaches 140 degrees F.  on a meat thermometer, 15 to 18 minutes per pound. During the last 30 minutes of baking time, brush the ham with 1/3 cup of the molasses. Remove ham from the oven, transfer to a cutting board, and let rest 10 minutes. 

For Bacon Red-Eye Gravy: In a large skillet, cook bacon over medium heat, stirring occasionally, until crisp and brown, about 10 minutes. Using a slotted spoon, transfer bacon to paper towels to drain and cool. Measure and reserve 1/4 cup bacon fat, and discard remaining fat. Coarsely chop bacon and set aside. 

In a medium saucepan, heat bacon fat over medium heat. Add shallots and cook, stirring often, until they begin to brown, about 2 minutes. Add garlic and cook until fragrant, about 1 minute. Stir in flour and let bubble without browning for 1 minute. Gradually stir in coffee and broth, followed by remaining 3 tablespoons molasses and thyme. Bring to a boil over high heat, stirring often. Reduce heat to medium-low and simmer, stirring often, until the sauce has reduced slightly to the consistency of heavy cream, 10 to 15 minutes. Season to taste with salt, black pepper and cayenne. (The sauce can be made up to 1 day ahead. Reheat in a saucepan or microwave oven before serving.) Just before serving, stir in bacon. Makes about 3 cups sauce. 

Carve ham and serve with sauce. 

Makes 15-20 4-ounce servings. 
 

Sprouted Lemon-Lavender Cookies

Spring has sprung! I love so many things about this season that's all too short in the Deep South. Soon, it will be 90 degrees in the shade down here, keeping most of hiding indoors in our AC. But for now, the temps are mild, the sky is impossibly blue, flowers are blooming,  and the cacophony of chirping birds and buzzing bees is somehow calming. 

It all puts me in a loving mood, and the current focus of my affection is a lavender and its tiny purple petals. These Sprouted Lemon-Lavender Cookies are a wonderful way to incorporate lavender’s subtle but scent-sationsal flavor into food.

I can' t take credit for coming up with these simple delights that happen to be gluten free  (yay!). I was introduced to these cookies several years ago while "working" with chef Ban Stewart, who was then at Lake Martin's Kowaliga restaurant, and the fine folks at To Your Health Sprouted Flour Company in Fitzpatrick, Ala.  Ban was kind enough to share the recipe, and when I made them again recently, I knew I needed to share it. (Oh, and these mouth-watering images were captured by the talented Erika Tracy. )

Bake up a batch or two and consider using them to fill this year's Easter baskets. Nobody will miss the drug-store candy, I promise. 

But about those cookies...

Lemon-Lavender Cookies

• 1 ¾ cups To Your Health sprouted brown rice flour (it's gluten free!!)

• 1 ½ teaspoons baking powder

• 1 tablespoon lemon zest

• 2 teaspoons dried lavender flowers, finely chopped

• 1 stick of butter (at room temp)

• 1 cup organic sugar

• 2 large eggs

• ¾ teaspoon lemon juice

• 1/2 cup powdered sugar

Cream the butter and sugar together in a mixer with a paddle attachment. Add the eggs and mix to combine. Add the flour, baking powder, lemon zest and juice, and the lavender and mix until combined. Use a small spoon or scoop to form the dough into balls and roll in powdered sugar. Place the cookies on a lightly greased, parchment-lined cookie sheet, one inch apart. Bake at 350 degrees for 10 to 12 minutes.