Convivial.org

35th Street Bistro, Seattle's Fremont District

We happened upon the 35th Street Bistro several years ago during our first visit to the Fremont Street Fair in a desperate attempt to escape the increasing afternoon heat and throngs of looky-lous cheering-on the naked bikers in the Solstice Parade.  (Ah yes, even when you’ve heard they’re coming, you’re never truly prepared.)  Relief came immediately in the form of a shaded bistro, a quiet table, a slight breeze and a glass of pinot noir.  Although the dining room was mostly empty, I could feel an inevitable post-parade sneak attack; but after a few sips of wine and deep breaths, my aggravation transformed into relaxation.  Now, every time I walk by, I get the same feeling of deliverance.  

Trout stuffed with orange, fennel & hazelnuts

Edna Lewis, the Grand Dame of Southern Cuisine

.

My favorite excerpt from The Taste of Country Cooking by Ms. Edna Lewis:

“I will never forget spring mornings in Virginia.  A warm morning and a red sun rising behind a thick fog gave the image of a pale pink veil supported by a gentle breeze that flew or thin marquisette curtains out into the living room, leaving them to fall lazily back.  Being awakened by this irresistible atmosphere we would hop out of bed, clothes in hand, rush downstairs, dress in a sunny spot, and rush out to the barn to find a sweet-faced calf, baby pigs, or perhaps a colt.  We always stopped by the hen house to look at the setting hens sitting in their row of nests along the wall.  They had to be checked often to see if the eggs were moist enough to hatch properly.  I can still remember the moist smell of chickens hatching and making quiet, cuddly noises.  The mother hen would fuss and ruffle her feathers, very annoyed at my mother for lifting her from the nest to sprinkle the eggs.  There would be guineas setting under the woodpile where no one could reach and they would appear one day with a brood that was so swift of movement that one could only get a glimpse of them scampering through the weeds.

Easy Pulled Pork Sandwich - In the Spirit of North Carolina

‘Cue is the great sacrament of our people.  No transubstantiation required.  It are what we are.

--North Carolinians

Barbeque is a subject of intense interest and loyalties in North Carolina, a subject about which everyone thinks they’re right and that everyone else wouldn’t know a decent plate of ‘cue from a cue ball.  

-- Dennis Rogers

 

The previous post encouraged culinary cheating -- a quicker, easier way to create traditional, complex dishes.  An inappropriate term?  Well, the language may be somewhat unrefined, but it’s accurate and the idea is solid.  However you say it, it’s much better than gastronomic abstinence.  Trying an easier version of a classic dish may not look or taste completely authentic, but it’ll still be delicious, and give a real sense of accomplishment.  And, wishing hard won’t get you a pulled pork sandwich.

North Carolina BBQ is serious cuisine with well-guarded secrets and highly debated, detailed methods.  The proper way means the whole pig, flavorful rubs, getting the wood to the perfect temperature, keeping the wood at the perfect temperature, gradually adding more ashed-over wood, spritzing down flare-ups, slowly cooking with indirect heat for hours & hours until the pork is so tender, it falls off the bone as the fork comes into proximity.  Real North Carolina ‘cue is the South’s magnum opus.  ‘Cueing a whole hog isn’t a beginner’s project, but with determination, and a few smaller projects under your belt, it can be done.

Easy Kansas City BBQ Ribs

Sure, I condone cheating.  If it’s between cheating a little and never attempting a dish because “the proper way” is too difficult or time consuming, I have no problem with shortcutting it.  The result may not be completely authentic, but at the very least, it’ll be a pretty tasty interpretation.

Case in point: Kansas City BBQ ribs -- rubbing, marinating, getting the wood to the perfect temperature, keeping the wood at the perfect temperature, gradually adding more ashed-over wood, slowly cooking the ribs with indirect heat for 5-6 hours, apple juice spritzing at regular intervals, slathering both sides with rich, tomatoey molasses sauce until the meat is so tender, it falls off the bone as the fork comes into proximity.  My God!  True KC ribs are undeniably sumptuous, and will cause some serious finger licking; but authentically recreating such a masterpiece is not easy and isn’t done by many.

I figured out how to get really tender, flavorful ribs with that lovely inherent smokiness, but without staying up all night holding a juice-filled spray bottle.  The method: rub it, smoke it, braise it and glaze it -- that’s it.  Plus, if the rubbing & smoking are done the first day, then braising & glazing the next; not only do the tasks seem more manageable, but, the rub & smoke permeate the meat more fully.  

Kansas City BBQ Sauce

 

An excellent sauce from the Kansas City BBQ Society cookbook.  Basting sauces aren't as thick as mops or glazes, but the flavor of Jim Burnett's is so good, I reduce it further and use it to mop ribs and steaks.

Buttermilk Biscuits with Kentucky Ham, Molasses Butter & Creole Chile Jam

“Grazing is a state of being in the South. In fact, many of our community cookbooks from the twentieth century are front-heavy, with so many more hors d’oeuvre and finger-food recipes than main courses (or even desserts) that it makes you wonder why we even bother with the rest of the meal.  It’s actually plain good sense: as any southerner knows, a dizzying array of nibbles in view when your guests arrive is the utmost gesture of hospitality.”

-- The Lee Bros. Southern Cookbook

One of my favorite Southern appetizers is a ham biscuit -- Kentucky smoked ham on a buttermilk biscuit -- it’s that simple.  However, because it’s only two things put together, the biscuits better be great and the ham even better.

Southern Buttermilk Biscuits

Buttermilk biscuits.  The Kid calls them “tasty little bastards.”  I should probably reign in his profanity, but he’s right -- they are tasty little bastards.  Hot from the oven and slathered with butter & honey -- what more do you need on a Thursday night?  Maybe ham.

Fried Chicken & Domaine Ste. Michelle 2002 Luxe Sparkling

My husband says I’m trying to kill him.  Mmhmm ... he’s a pussy.  No one gets out of this life alive, and there are worse ways to die than by gustatory ecstasy.  Not that fried chicken is gustatory ecstasy per se, but a tasty, farm-raised chicken, well-seasoned and perfectly fried, served with a chilled glass of really good Champagne, is fairly close to the pinnacle.  Now, if the same (now perfectly chilled) chicken is quietly plucked from the fridge around midnight and served in the dark with a really good Champagne and a movie ... well, I think that’s the actual definition of gustatory ecstasy.  I could be wrong -- you can look it up.

The Sparkling Wine:

Luxe is luxe.  It’s decadent, creamy and toasty with an almost warm lemon exuberance to it -- at least that’s what it tastes like tonight.  The lovely synergy between sparkling wine and fried food is the refreshing, palate-cleansing bubbles that cut through the dish’s richness.  I want to believe it clears the richness right out of the arteries too, but I can’t prove that.  You could look it up though.  

‘Cue: the Fanaticism, the Feuds, the Sheer Fortitude

In the South, barbeque is not just a food, “...it’s a cultural ritual, practiced with a kind of religious fervor among various barbeque sects, each of whom believes their particular concoction of smoke and sauce and spices is the only true way to culinary salvation.”

-- William Schmidt, New York Times 

The great thing about decades of fervent Southern ‘cue feuds?  The rest of us reveling in the proceeds.  A hundred years, give or take, of focused effort on the perfect medium, the best methods, precise timing, just the right to-go-withs; there can’t possibly be anything else to discover about barbeque.  With generations of proving this and trying that, it stands to reason the subject is pert’ near all-inclusive.  Now, getting hold of those highly protected secrets ... well, that’s a whole ‘nother thang.  

The most famous Southern barbeque sects share common practices, yet each have their own unique style, and each believe the others practice heresy.

Spicy Shrimp & Dirty Grits with Chateau Ste. Michelle 2007 Eroica Riesling

After hours of shrimp ‘n grits research and recipe testing, I decided I likes ‘em like my men -- spicy, smoky and dirty.  There’s a zillion variations of this Low-Country dish, and quite honestly, I haven’t figured out the original.  From what I can tell, if shrimp, bell peppers, Tabasco, and some type of smoky, fat-rendering pork product are included, it’s a fairly genuine nod to tradition.

Creamy Meyer Lemon & Chive Grits

.

Deliciously creamy & lightly lemoned, these grits make an elegant side dish to grilled fish, roasted chicken or fried green tomatoes.

Creamy Meyer Lemon & Chive Grits

Based on The Lee Bros. Southern Cookbook

Makes 3 cups

1 cup stone ground grits

3-1/2 cups water, plus more to float the chaff

1/2 cup milk

1/4 cup unsalted butter, divided

1/2 teaspoon kosher salt, plus more to taste

Pinch freshly ground white pepper, to taste

1 Tablespoon buttermilk, or more to taste

Zest of 1 Meyer lemon

1/4 cup snipped chives