American

On New Year’s Eve 1996, we decided we wanted a warmer place to celebrate, so we jumped on a train to New Orleans, took a paddleboat down the Mississippi, and ate dinner while watching the fireworks. The next day, there was the Sugar Bowl game and the Court of Two Sisters on Royal Street, in the French Quarter, where we went for mimosas and brunch. This routine became a tradition for a few years— but now it doesn’t beat toasting in the year with our girls, so we brought the flavors home. This recipe holds a particularly funny memory for us. One year we had a bowl of some of these saucy, spicy shrimp at a restaurant on the pier, just before jumping on the paddleboat. Pat couldn’t keep the spoon away from his mouth, and he ended up spilling a tremendous amount of that dark roux down the front of his white sweater. So there he was, sipping champagne and watching the fireworks with a huge stain! He didn’t mind a bit.

I have to say that this is one of my all-time favorite salads, my variation of an Alice Waters recipe I came across years ago, and I’ve always loved the simplicity and the flavor. Shave the mushrooms immediately prior to serving, so that they release their aromas. It’s so intoxicating that you’d think they were pheromones. This salad is actually pretty sexy.

This dish channels the best of the clam shacks that dot the East Coast. Here, a crunchy cornmeal coating and a quick dip in hot oil render these soft-shell clams succulent and juicy. As an accompaniment, chopped sorrel gives aioli a lemony lift and gorgeous color for a nice twist on tartar sauce. For fun, serve them to your guests the way we do in the restaurants—in little paper cones. They’re not hard to fold, make for great oil-absorbing containers, and make you feel like you’re on the boardwalk.

Southerners love a good red velvet cake the way they love good, juicy gossip. That’s because there’s inherent drama in a towering white cake that, beneath swaths of innocent cream cheese frosting, possesses a shockingly crimson interior. Of course, they also love red velvet cake for its twangy buttermilk and cocoa–infused flavor and exceptionally smooth, supple crumb.

Puffed and crackled exteriors make these chewy, intensely spiced cookies as pretty as they are delicious. I got the idea to add coffee to the dough because of how beautifully the flavors of ginger and molasses come together with bitter, smoky coffee. Serve with iced coffee to double the effect.

Throughout the South, but especially along rural strips of highway, you’ll find a plethora of roadside farm stands advertising their homegrown wares with colorful, hand-painted wooden signs. I love these quirky little catchall stands, where you’re almost as likely to encounter folk art or a mini petting zoo as you are watermelons and eggs. If you’re lucky, you can also find some of the best peach ice cream you’ll ever eat—creamy, cold, and ultrafresh. I like to think my version, which makes the most of sweet, sun-ripened fruit, is just as tasty.

The unexpected crunch of cornmeal gives this version of classic thumb-print cookies a distinctly Southern accent. When making these jam-filled cookies, try using several different jams and preserves, such as blackberry, raspberry, and Brandied Figs (page 301).

My Aunt June used to make this boiled vanilla custard almost constantly from Thanksgiving to Christmas so as to keep a steady supply on hand. Ever the ready hostess, June kept the custard stored not in the refrigerator, as you might expect, but in a Tupperware container in the trunk of her car. This ensured that she was never without party supplies, whether she was entertaining at home or calling on friends. We were always glad to see Aunt June coming at that time of year, not least because we knew her famous custard was sure to follow.

This simple panna cotta is all about the tangy flavor of creamy buttermilk topped with a sweet-tart spoonful or two of bright red balsamic-glazed strawberries.

Banana pudding is such a Southern classic that I knew I had to include a recipe for it. At the same time, I wanted to give it a bit of a modern twist, and that’s how I came up with Banana Pudding Sliders. You have to learn the rules before you can break them, so here’s my favorite recipe for classic banana pudding—spiked with rum, layered with bananas and vanilla wafers, and crowned with meringue—followed by those sliders I dreamed up.

As homemade desserts go, cobblers are about as easy as they come; even better, they are endearingly homey and invariably good. The fluffy cream biscuits floating over this blackberry cobbler couldn’t be simpler—just mix and drop. Serve warm with sweetened whipped cream or vanilla ice cream.

This is my mom’s recipe for what she calls a “dump cobbler,” where all you do is mix the batter, dump the fruit on top, and pop it in the oven. It’s soft and moist—almost like a pudding—with big peach flavor. Try different summer fruits, like cherries, blueberries, blackberries, or plums, in place of the peaches. Serve with Farm-Stand Peach Ice Cream (page 363) or lightly sweetened whipped cream.

Classic apple pie gets a serious upgrade in the form of this creamy, tangy, streusel-topped number. With swirls of sour cream, it tastes like the “à la mode” has been baked right in.

Toasted pecans give this crust a little bit of crunch and a lot of superrich, buttery flavor.

The intense dark chocolate flavor in these little tarts is proof that the best things come in small packages. For truly sensational flavor, use high-quality dark chocolate, such as Valrhona or Scharffen Berger, rather than garden-variety baking chocolate.

Southern summers are too hot for rhubarb to grow, so we Southerners must make the most of our short-lived springtime harvest. This buttery, crunchy tart is one of my favorite ways to do just that.

Piecrust isn’t nearly so difficult as some people make it out to be. Just be sure to have all the ingredients as cold as possible and handle the dough minimally, and you’ll have flaky, buttery crust in no time. The egg in this all-purpose crust makes it especially easy to work with, and the added shortening makes it extra flaky.

I substitute molasses for the usual corn syrup in this version of classic pecan pie. The filling is every bit as sticky as you’d expect, and the molasses and bourbon add a deep, almost smoky flavor. Serve with vanilla ice cream or a drizzle of eggnog.