Soul Food

My daddy loved boiled okra, but it’s too slimy for me. Fried okra, on the other hand, is great with everything!

I make this with our home-canned green beans, but canned green beans from your grocery store cook down nicely with a little help from a ham hock. The recipe says to cook these for 30 minutes. I would really say just to cook them to death, but 30 minutes sounds sweeter.

I could live on collard greens and corn bread! I like collard greens better than turnip greens because I think collards are sweeter. When I make my corn bread and greens bowl (crumbled-up buttermilk corn bread covered with collard greens and a little juice), I add a little hot pepper just for fun. In the South, collard juice, or the cooking liquid that accumulates, is often called pot likker. My daddy always planted a big collard patch every spring, not only for the family but also to share with friends. Through the years, friends knew the patch was just out back of the barn and they were free to drive in and help themselves.

Growing up, I was lucky to have a catfish pond just down the hill on our farm. My daddy had created the pond from a natural spring when I was a little girl and stocked it with catfish and bream. We had many a wonderful fish fry with freshly caught catfish from our pond all through my childhood. Fresh fried fish served with Mama’s Cornmeal Hushpuppies (page 140)—you couldn’t ask for a better meal! My only suggestion is that you let someone else dress the catfish. Yuck!

As a young man, my dad worked with the State of Georgia Extension Service, where he learned to barbecue chickens by the hundreds. Over the years, he cooked thousands of chickens that were sold on the town square, at football games, or horse shows. He and his friends would build a huge pit with cement blocks and top them with specially made racks that could hold about 50 chicken halves each. To turn the chickens, another rack was placed on top, and two men, one on each end of the racks, would flip the entire rack at once! My mom has adapted Dad’s recipe to serve a family, not the whole town.

My biggest complaint about fried chicken is that all of the flavor ends up on the outside, and the meat is usually bland. Not my mama’s! The secret is in the prep. When you soak the chicken overnight in salt brine, the salt infuses into the meat and makes it so tasty! When I asked my mom how long to fry the chicken, she said, “Just cook it ’til it sounds right.” I have since fried enough chicken to completely understand this sentence, but at the time—you can imagine! As chicken begins to fry, it’s loud because of all the water cooking out into the fat. It gets quieter as it gets done. Who knew? Now you do!

I respect people who won’t share old family recipes, but when I find something good, I want everybody to be able to make it for themselves, and that’s how I feel about my daddy’s barbecue sauce. I truly believe Daddy could have bottled and sold this sauce, it was so popular! It’s a personal preference, but I like a thin, vinegar-based barbecue sauce instead of the thick, ketchup-based sauces.

Since moving to Oklahoma, I have noticed that a lot of the barbecue there is made with beef. I started making these Georgia pork ribs a couple of years ago for the Fourth of July, and they quickly became tradition around here. Cut the racks into two-rib portions and serve them with Easy Baked Beans (page 133) and Fourth of July Coleslaw (page 54) for an awesome holiday feast!

My daddy was a great cook, and many of the recipes in this cookbook are his. If there was a fund-raiser in Monticello, people would always ask, “Is Jack making the Brunswick Stew?” or “Is Jack cooking the chickens?” before they bought their tickets. The food was usually prepared outside in very large quantities with the help of members of the sponsoring organization. Brunswick Stew is one of those classic southern dishes that varies from region to region, but I’ve never had Brunswick Stew that tasted like my dad’s. In his version, everything is ground through a food grinder, so it’s more like a wonderfully rich soup than a stew. His version also fed 160 people, so we’ve reduced our recipe to serve a cozy 16!

A pimiento cheese sandwich made on very fresh white bread is a true southern staple. Nothing goes better with Gwen’s Fried Chicken (page 93). Mama slices the crusts off the sandwiches and cuts them in half for family reunions—very southern belle!

Arnold's chef Kahlil Arnold brines catfish before dredging it in seasoned cornmeal to keep it super moist.

American cheese gives this classic from Arnold's its melty consistency.

My Grandmother Paul always said to season chicken and return it to the refrigerator and let it sit as long as time permits, at least 2 to 3 hours. At the restaurant, we season ours with House Seasoning and Lawry’s Seasoned Salt. Always use small chickens. I find that a Dutch oven works best for frying chicken.

Collard greens are a point of southern pride. Any barbecue or soul food restaurant worth its salt has a place for these mustardy-flavored greens. In the South, collard greens are typically cooked with a ham hock or smoked turkey wings to give a great smoky flavor to the greens and the broth—or pot liquor as it is referred to in local parlance. You can definitely add either to this recipe, but I like to use chipotle chiles to give not only smokiness but also a little heat to this dish. I prefer my collard greens to retain some bite and cook them until tender, not to melting. The greens have a natural sweetness that is both accentuated and balanced by the finishing splash of apple cider vinegar. Sweet, smoky, and slightly vinegary, these collard greens definitely deliver a touch of soul to the table.

Hoppin’ John is the must-have dish for southerners on New Year’s Day; it’s widely believed that if you eat black-eyed peas on that day, you’ll have good luck all year. This a great dish for a crowd and can definitely be prepared ahead of time. Since the black-eyed peas need to soak overnight, start this a day in advance. Serve with my variation on Mr. Beard’s Cream Biscuits (page 54).

For some people in the South, dessert doesn’t count unless it’s one thing and one thing only: this one.

If I’m working, which is to say I’m not drinking anything strong because I’m focused on winning a competition, I don’t drink anything besides sweet tea. I love sweet tea, truly. It’s the drink of the South, the drink of my home. Here’s how we do it.