Slow Cooker Collards?

Have any of you ever cooked collard greens in a crock pot? If so, how'd they turn out? I'm considering trying it ... but I don't want them to taste overly wilted. I think I'll give it a go. I'm still trying to create lots of prosperity for 2012!

Tomato Sandwiches: Southern or Universal?

Today for lunch, I assembled a simple tomato sandwich. Something I've done hundreds (or thousands) of times in my life, almost always during summer. Two slices of white bread: check. Several slices of a juicy tomato (grown by family or friends): check. Duke's mayonnaise: check. Salt and pepper: check.

Eat me! (On a sandwich, of course.)

To me, tomato sandwiches are a ubiquitous part of Southern summer life. Consumption of these sandwiches is widespread--almost everyone down here eats them. Truly. You don't have to describe to another Southerner what a tomato sandwich is, or explain to them that, yes, it's still delicious even though it doesn't have meat, cheese, butter or any of the other ingredients that usually make food worth eating. In the South, it's never assumed that tomato sandwiches are vegetarian specialties or some kind of poor man's meal for those barely scraping by. (Although, a tomato sandwich could very easily suffice in either of those situations.) No, Southerners know tomato sandwiches.

But just because Southerners eat--and appreciate--tomato sandwiches often, does that mean the humble sandwich actually falls into the category of Southern food? After all, they do have tomatoes in other parts of the country (and world). And they have bread. And salt and pepper.  Of course, they don't all have Duke's, which is sad for them; but most places have passable versions of mayonnaise.

The only acceptable mayo for a Southern tomato sandwich.

This is something I often think about when I'm enjoying a juicy tomato (or, 'mater) sandwich. And, it turns out, I'm not the only one. This weekend, I read Southern Heirlooms in Our State magazine. The author of the article, Scott Huler, asks the very same question. He starts with the premise that tomato sandwiches are universal to some degree; however, his ultimate conclusion--and how he gets there--provides for a very insightful look at how important tomato sandwiches are to the Southern summer experience:

"So, a homegrown crop with a long growing season, consumed constantly by people used to doing for themselves, and a sandwich that's a quick and convenient way to eat it. With a native condiment that somehow makes it special. Maybe the tomato sandwich, Southern style, does have a claim to iconic status."

Huler also points out how people in this region--specifically his wife--talk about tomato sandwiches in a particularly Southern way. And it occurs to me that I've never heard anyone outside the South mention a tomato sandwich ... ever.  So, they may (possibly) eat them, but it's not something you hear them go on about or describe with delight and sentimentality. But Southerners talk about tomato sandwiches--like all of the other foods we love--a lot. You can't shut us up about them. Heck, Rebecca Wells even found a way to work them into one of her novels:

"We'd go to Washington, D.C., where the President and Mrs. Roosevelt would be waiting, begging me to come have tomato sandwiches with the crust cut off." ~Divine Secrets of the Ya Ya Sisterhood

Even the sassy characters of Southern literature love tomato sandwiches.

So, you decide. Tomato sandwiches: Southern or universal?

Clearly, this is a yankee tomato sandwich.

You Say Tomato, I Say Heirloom

It just isn't summer without a juicy, sweet tomato plucked straight from the vine and still warm from the sun. Forget about those perfectly round, ruby red tomatoes in your supermarket. The real beauty queens are of the heirloom variety.

Grown from seeds handed down from generations, heirlooms are lumpy, bumpy tomatoes that come in a rainbow of colors. They have memorable names like Brandywine, Green Grape, Black Krim, Green Zebra and Mortgage Lifter and are full of flavor (so unlike their bland grocery store cousins).

I chose some Cherokee Purple tomatoes from my local farmers' market that became an inspiration for a summer salad. On a bed of spicy greens and broccoli florets, I added tomato wedges and sliced fried chicken, then drizzled with balsamic vinaigrette dressing. It was almost too pretty to eat!

The General and the Pea

Just a couple weeks ago, we Southerners commemorated the 150th anniversary of the start of what, in Charleston at least, is referred to as “the recent unpleasantness”—also known as the War of Northern Aggression, the War of Northern Imperialism or, more plainly (and perhaps ironically), the Civil War.

Since nearly every event of any sort has, for me, some relation to food, I was reminded of something I once read about General Robert E. Lee and one of the South’s favorite legumes, the black-eyed pea.

Having been cultivated in the South since the 1700s, the black-eyed pea was already a food staple for Southerners. As the story goes, during the War, when Union troops swept through the South and took crops, livestock and food stores, they left the humble black-eyed pea, which the Yankees considered fit only for consumption by livestock. With little or nothing left in fields and pantries to eat, Southerners turned to black-eyed peas for nourishment.

Perhaps the most poignant part of this tale is this: As legend has it, afterward, whenever General Lee would pass a field of black-eyed peas, he would take time to stop and salute, acknowledging the role they played in sustaining the South through the dark days of the War.

Whether true or not (I’ve read that such stories, including the tradition of eating them for good luck on New Year’s Day, are the work of a PR genius trying to boost sales of black-eyed peas in the late 1940s), I still like to think of the veteran General pausing on his journey, looking out over a lush field of black-eyed peas, removing his hat and offering a salute to the small black-and-white pea that maybe … just maybe … helped save the South.

100 Ways to Cook Southern

Here at Savor South, we love Southern Living. For me personally, it's as much a go-to guide for recipes as the Betty Crocker Cookbook was to housewives of the 1950s. If I'm looking for a new recipe--Southern or not--I always peruse the cooking section of their site first. And my scrapbook cookbook (a binder of recipes I've collected over the years) is largely comprised of recipes I've torn from their pages or printed from their site. Do yourself a favor and spend some time looking at some of their dishes. You might want to get started with this menu of recipes: 100 Ways to Cook Southern.

They have compiled a list of foods that are either quintessentially Southern or traditional with a Southern twist. Some of the recipes are region-specific (like low-country, for example), and some have South-wide appeal. Looking over it, I noticed many favorites of mine. For example, Brunswick Stew (featured in the picture above), Pimento Cheese, Buttermilk Biscuits, Grits, Po-Boys, Chicken and Dumplings, Macaroni and Cheese and shrimp anything. I really could go on and on. And I have to say, there's not a recipe on the list I wouldn't try. And a few I have tried, with marvelous results. A favorite of mine, which I often prepare for holiday parties is the Warm Turnip Green Dip.

I always get complimented on this dish; and, confidentially, I could eat the whole thing myself and never share it with anyone. But since I'm sure that would add 5 pounds to my frame right on the spot, I don't.

Another recipe of theirs I've tried that's had (almost) as equally good results is their King Ranch Casserole:

And I look forward to trying many more, such as their Cheese Straws, Beer-Batter Fried Pickles, Tomato Gravy and Coca Cola Cake.

If you'd like to spend some time drooling, please check out these recipes. They even have a recipe for making Southern Sweet Tea. Although, if you're a Southerner, you probably perfected this beverage years ago.

Southern Foods We Love

Since today is Valentine's Day, I thought it would be appropriate to share with you some of our deep, abiding food loves--as well as a few hot and heavy crushes. These foods will make almost any Southern heart go pitter patter:

• Okra  Fried, grilled, pickled ... it doesn't matter; we'll take it.
• Buttermilk Biscuits  Cat-head sized, but we're not particular.
• Sawmill Gravy  Hello? You need it for your biscuits.
• Fried Pork Chops  Another canvas for sawmill gravy.
• Casseroles  Any kind, but we like our mamas' recipes best.
• Tomato Sandwiches  Summer wouldn't be summer without them--but only if they're slathered in Duke's Mayonnaise.
• Green Beans  These are only a favorite when they're cooked in fat-back (as if there's any other way).
• Pimento Cheese Homemade. ONLY homemade.
• Carolina Slaw Burgers  If you don't end up with it all over you, you're doing it wrong.
• Lexington-Style Chopped BBQ  Yes, we're taking sides in the BBQ wars.
• Chess Pie  If your teeth don't fall out and you don't go into diabetic shock, you'll probably ask for seconds.
• Sweet Tea  It's not a food, but what else are you going to wash down all this mess with? Nothing else, that's what.

Gosh, I'm starting to realize this list could go on and on. Does it make us culinary sluts that we spread our love around to so many dishes?

I hope we don't get a reputation.

A Civil Food Conflict

When I was growing up, my family (like most) always had a succession of memorable meals from November to January each year. This heavy dinner season (in the South dinner means the afternoon meal) of course started with Thanksgiving—a holiday that doesn't differ too much by region when it comes to the traditional menu. Then our Decembers would bring with them numerous get-togethers, from casserole-laden potlucks to finger-food festivities, culminating in our family's unique interpretation of Christmas Day dinner: Lexington, NC-style pulled pork barbecue sandwiches.

January 1 always capped off the months of indulgence with a final formal meal. One that, for us, was mostly Southern in tradition ... but with a tiny bit of Northern influence. (You see, my grandfather was from Pennsylvania. And while he ended up living most of his life in North Carolina and fully embraced Southern life and culture, he did introduce the rest of us to what we referred to as "Yankee foods.")

Our menu for that day always included the following:

Pork Roast

Mashed Potatoes

Squash Casserole*

Asparagus Casserole*

Black-eyed Peas

Sauerkraut

Green Beans

Rolls

Sweet Tea

*Note that all holiday meals in my family, whether it's Thanksgiving, Christmas, New Year's or Easter, always involve at least one casserole.

A Southern eye will detect a few problems with my list. First of all, the black-eyed peas are served as is, not in Hoppin' John. Well, don't worry; we began adopting that dish in recent years. And, regardless, the presence of the legume in general helps ensure wealth (in the form of coins, but still).

Secondly, um ... sauerkraut. Yes, this is clearly a Yankee food—and one that was not embraced by my brother and me. Thirdly, you'll notice the absence of any type of greens. This is because the sauerkraut filled the role of that food, which traditionally means money, or cash, for the new year. In later years, we did start adding collard greens to our meal; yet, somehow, none of us ever achieved double the wealth (at least not yet). Finally, you'll see that we had rolls instead of cornbread. I'm honestly not sure how cornbread factors into good luck for the new year. And, frankly, I love cornbread but rolls are just fine too.

So there you go. That's my family's history of New Year's Day meals. Very "New South," wouldn't you say? Quite progressive of us to incorporate such an alien dish as sauerkraut, I think. Of course pork equals progress, according to tradition, so maybe that's what fueled our acceptance of Northern cuisine.

If you're interested in trying some traditional Southern New Year's dishes, Southern Living has a great line-up here. And Epicurious has an interesting article on the meanings behind various New Year's food traditions.

But whether you go traditional Southern, Northern or some hybrid of the two, we wish you a very happy, prosperous and delicious New Year!