Ultimate Southern Biscuit Bar

I grew up in a sort of "New South." I lived in the suburbs. I didn't really eat traditional Southern food, unless you count barbecue, nor did my family make it. When I went out to eat meat and three-type food, it was overcooked and just not that exciting. And then I grew up, studied Southern culture, started cooking new things, studied Southern food, worked for Southern Living, and began to reclaim what it means to be a Southerner in my kitchen, with a fresh twist.

So last week I started dreaming up my version of a biscuit bar: biscuits, butters and jams as a base. But then my food-obsessed brain got a little over-excited about embracing this whole Southern, fresh thing, and making food from scratch. And this happened:

On my plate:
Buttermilk Biscuit with Pimiento Cheese and Oven-Fried Green Tomatoes
Blueberry Biscuit with Basil Butter and Blackberry Jam
Sweet Potato Biscuit with Ham, Swiss and Dijon
Fruity salad

It all started with these guys, biscuits that weren't exactly fluffy (I need to work on my biscuit skills) but still tasted buttery-yum.

 There were cold toppings, with crown jewels basil butter and homemade pimiento cheese.

And there were Southernly delicious hot toppings: chicken tenders, bacon and oven-fried green tomaters.

And we had a pretty salad to balance out all those carbs.

Conclusion: Birthdays make good excuses for forcing your friends to play with you food, and spending hours brainstorming and prepping food to play with.

 

Ultimate Southern Biscuit Bar Menu

Blackberry Cocktail

Tiffany's Tea Room Salad

with Strawberries, Roasted Asparagus, Pine Nuts and Pecorino Romano cheese

Buttermilk Biscuits

Blueberry Biscuits

Sweet Potato Biscuits

Oven-Fried Green Tomatoes

Bacon

Chicken Tenders (from Publix)

Pimiento Cheese

Deli Ham

Swiss Cheese

Avocado

Basil Butter

Honey

Mustards

Jellies and Jams

A new (old) kind of farm life

So lately summertime busyness happened. Cakes happened, cookies happened, party planning happened, trying new foods happened. Blogging did not happen. But now I am back, with the caveat that face-to-face relationship time can always gets prioritized above my self-imposed weekly blogging schedule (thanks to thinking on the role of technology inspired by this talk).

As of late I have been hearing about farms and how they ain't around the state of Alabama like they used to be. Farmers' kids grew up and moved to the suburbs. Farming got more commercialized, and the the lifestyle and profession became less popular and less profitable. So said Nick Pihakis, founder of the Jim 'N Nick's empire (below on right), when I walked around a farm with him. And so said Andrew Grace in Eating Alabama, his new documentary about the year he and his wife exclusively ate food farmed in our fair state.

Photos taken for 280 Living. 

Nick doesn't dream small. He has a vision for family farm that can be sustained by selling produce to restaurants like his, and where the family who lives on that farm eats off the land. He's testing out this idea on a plot in Mt Laurel in the Birmingham suburbs, as pictured. With this model, he has hopes to rebuild the agricultural structure of the South. Learning all this on a farm tour with the equivalent of a movie star in the Southern food world (and sharing the story with the community around the farm) made every drop of sweat on that day so worth it.

As for Andrew, he get major points for lengths to which he traveled to keep his eat local goal, but he didn't end things as optimistic as he began. Times have changed. The farm system is really messed up.  We can't live in a seemingly more idyllic time when we ate off our land. His conclusion, or at least the version of it that stuck with me, is that we can do little things to reclaim that ideal though. 

Andrew maintained much of his new local eating lifestyle: keeping up gardens in his front and back yards, buying farm shares, hanging out with farmers. It's the image he captures of a long table of farmers and friends outside at sunset passing dinner dishes, presumably made from locally grown foods— a glossy magazine image that we can in fact practice on a smaller scale with friends and food and the land around us, whatever it might look like.

Photo from EatingAlabama.com

Evidence I am prideful: I got pretty excited when in Eating Alabama (trailer below) Andrew visits the Mt Laurel farm I wrote about. Only when he filmed it, it was just a teaching farm and Nick's experimental working farm had not been started, so in some ways I felt like I wrote an addendum to the film.

Recipe: Tomato Pie

I came across this tomato pie recipe just after I'd eaten a delectable one at Kerby Lane Cafe in Austin, so of course I had to try making it myself. Baking layers of fresh tomatoes topped with cheese in a buttery crust created a meal whose wondrous taste we spent half our dinner conversation discussing.

The base of the pie is the kind of tomatoes that are unbelievably colorful and juicy this time of year.

Layer those guys with sauteed onions and what would have ideally been fresh basil (although dried basil worked when the real stuffed had all tragically wilted) and salt and pepper, and seal it all in with gruyere and parmesan. That plus a side salad equals a meal so very full of fresh veggie flavors.

Oh, and I made my first-ever homemade pie crust, which I found to be quite a beautiful thing. True, it took extra time, but a five-ingredient food processor action followed by rolling it out wasn't all that bad. It was plenty worth it for that buttery, flaky crust that you can only get in the homemade version (all-natural crusts from Whole Foods crusts the second best though). I failed to follow the instructions for pie weights and such and just baked it plain, so it  shrank down from the edges but wasn't too bad. Next time I will try the pie crust fitting tips I produced at work this week.

But what really inspired me to go scratch was wanting to add basil to the crust like my tomato pie at Kerby Lane. Yet another reason it's worth the effort.

Three Things: Good Ole Mayo

Oh, mayonnaise.  I can't decide if I love you or hate you. You're gross in excess, but you complement a turkey sandwich so nicely. Plain yogurt can take your place no problem in potato salad and such, but there are a few things I wouldn't consider making without including you in full force. I also never give a second thought to using your full-fat form; chemicals in lighter versions are just gross. I'd rather eat a the real thing in moderation.

These are my essential recipes whose fat content I ignore and let myself enjoy the decadence. I blame childhood memories eating each of them in the South for my steadfast devotion.

Deviled Eggs

Why Make Them: Easter and barbecues beg that they be served. Also, they make sticky hard-boiled egg yolks creamy and oh-so flavorful.  
Short & Sweet Recipe: Hard boil eggs; let cool. Slice in half length-wise. Scoop out yoke. Mix with salt, mayo, and lemon juice. Stuff back in egg white.
Full-Fledged Recipe: Consult Southern Living.
Tip:  Sprinkle with paprika for a pretty presentation.

Pimiento Cheese  
Why Make It: Creamy, sharp cheddar with a kick is the perfect snack on crackers or lunch on bread with lettuce. Also, store-bought varieties taste like chemicals (even though I thought the opposite as a kid), and friends  loved the taste while innocently having no idea it was mayo-laden. 
Short & Sweet Recipe: Shred cheddar cheese. Mix with lots of mayo and some chopped jarred pimientos, grated onion, Worcestershire sauce, and a tad bit of red pepper.
Full-Fledged Recipe: Consult Southern Living.  
Tips:  Shred your own cheese; it's worth the labor to the get right texture. Use extra sharp, smoky cheddar if you like a bite.

Artichoke Dip 
Why Make It: Anyone who ever tried this creamy, cheesy dip raved about it, even people who don't like mayo or don't like artichokes. And between my extended family and myself, we've made this dip at least 547,892 times. 
Short & Sweet Recipe: Mix together 1 can artichokes, chopped, 1 cup mayo, and 1 cup Parmesan cheese. Bake at 350 degrees for 20-25 minutes or until edges brown. 
Full-Fledged Recipe: There isn't one. No need to get fancy. 
Tips:  Make sure that you are around when this dip comes out of the oven, or else you might not get any. You can double or triple the recipe to make the tragedy somewhat less likely.

What about you—how do you like mayonnaise? Or does it totally gross you out?

Recipe: Shrimp and Grits

Shrimp and Grits is my all-time favorite Southern dish. Maybe it's because most others are fried or clobbered in mayonnaise, and this is a fresh sauté of veggies atop a cheesy, creamy grits. The dish combines wonderful summery foods: fresh shrimp, mushrooms, green peppers, garlic, and green onions, along with a bit of bacon for signature Southern flavor. Remembering the taste of the dish makes me day dream of eating it in sunshine while sipping a mimosa with good company.

I've had quite a few restaurant versions, but this homemade one wins for taste, hands-down. The recipe came from a Chapel Hill, NC, establishment via the kitchens of Southern Living.

Shrimp and Grits