Friday, March 29, 2013

EGGS, PICKLED



Tuna Nicoise Salad at Epic in Chicago
     I was in a pickle, so to speak.  My kids are grown.  No more Easter Bunny.  It seems we are stuck in the Grinch of Winter's wrath still, despite the daffodils and hyacinths.  Bah Hum-Bunny?
     Rather than rain on the Easter Parade, I decided to celebrate the Spring Awakening anyway.
     How?
     I've dyed eggs naturally, boiling and soaking them with onion skins, blueberries and even dandelions.   We tied them up with my old pantyhose (God, did I really use to wear those things?) and placed parsley leaves within to make the pattern on the dyed egg.
     We've had neon-colored eggs, definitely not found in Mother Nature's palette.  
      Chocolate-covered eggs?  Filled with truffles?  Bring them on, but I won't make them.
      But then I had lunch in Chicago at Epic on Hubbard St., and found the perfect solution.  The special of the day was the above gorgeous Salad Nicoise, with seared tuna smeared with tapenade, whole capers, and pickled eggs.  A gorgeous pink, those pickled eggs.
      


     PICKLED PINK

Here's what you do:   Gently boil eggs.  My jar could hold nine, so I placed them in one layer in a pot, covered them with cold water, and then over medium high heat, brought them just to a boil.  Then I turned down the heat, and let them simmer for about three minutes.  Turned them off.  Covered the pot.  Let sit for 10 minutes.  Then, I emptied the hot water and ran cold water over them until the eggs felt slightly cool to the touch.  Then I refrigerated them, which allowed me to peel them with no hassles or ugly tears.  Magic!



Next came choosing the spices.  Pickling spices are what a lot of recipes use, and of course, that's what I did NOT have in the house.  So I decided on star anise and some mulling spices, very similar to the list of ingredients traditionally used in pickling spices.


Because I wanted pink eggs, I cooked some beets in water (I prefer them roasted).

Saved the red cooking liquid.  Added it to vinegar, onions, and spices.    Brought it to a boil then simmered for about five minutes, until the onion was translucent.  Let it cool for a bit, about 10 minutes.

Meanwhile, I peeled the eggs.  Placed them in a sterilized jar.

When vinegar liquid was cool, poured it over the eggs.

Pretty, huh?

It takes a few days for the eggs to marinate in the pickling liquid, and then you can use them.

Pickled eggs with pickled shrimp, avocado and cherry tomatoes.





And, if they should last that long, you can keep them in the refrigerator for up to a month.  They will gradually get an even deeper, browner red, as mine did.







**RECIPE**   PICKLED PINK EGGS

A couple of beets
1 cup cider vinegar
1/2 sweet onion, sliced thin
1/4 cup sugar
2 -3 star anise
1 tablespoon pickling spices (or spices of your choice)
6 to 9 hard cooked eggs

Peel the beets and cut them into quarters.  Place in a pan and cover with water (at least 1 1/2 cups).  Cook until beets are tender, about 30 minutes.  Reserve one cup of the beet cooking liquid.  If you'd like, chop up some of the beets to put in the jar, which will give you pickled beets as well.

Don't forget to date the jar!
In a medium saucepan, place the cup of reserved beet juice, the vinegar, onion, sugar, anise and spices. Over medium high heat, bring to a boil, then turn heat to medium and cook for about five minutes, until onions are translucent.  Let the mixture cool.

Meanwhile, peel the eggs and place them in the jar.  Add the beets if desired.

Pour the cooled vinegar mixture over the eggs in the jar.  Put the top on the jar, then refrigerate.  They're ready to eat in 4 to 5 days, and will last for up to a month in the refrigerator.



Tuesday, March 5, 2013

WORTH A GRAIN OF SALT - Outer Banks SeaSalt


What's With All the Salts?  

     "Salt is food's mouthpiece," declares Tamar Adler in her marvelous book, AN EVERLASTING MEAL. How right she is.  Salt makes things taste better, complements other tastes, and helps make the food shine like it's supposed to.  Ever accidentally left salt out of a cookie recipe?  They taste flat.  Or the worst for me was bread dough that took two days of rising and kneading then spraying and baking and praying, and after all that, when I broke into that bread, I cried.  I had forgotten the salt.
 
  We add salt to boiling water for pasta.  Add salt to rice.  My granola recipe tastes so dull without a bit of salt.  Cakes, pies, cornmeal.....they all call for at least a teaspoon of salt.
     

Chewy brownies hit with a sprinkle of Outer Banks SeaSalt 

 
   Amy Huggins Gaw, aka The Outer Banks Epicurean, is an accidental "saltist," she says, and taught me how to "finish" with salt, sprinkling a touch over just-from-the-oven brownies.  They went from being great to being sublime.  That hint of salt makes the chocolate just jump out at ya.  And just a pinch of sea salt rubbed between your fingers over steaks still warm from the grill?  Oh, mighty fine.

OUTER BANKS SEASALT
     As the "accidental saltist," Amy's worth her weight in the white powder, as the knowledgable and creative force behind Outer Banks SeaSalt.

     So how does one make salt?
   
     Wading out into the Atlantic Ocean near Kill Devil Hills, Amy and husband John Gaw gather buckets of sea water, which they take back to their working kitchen.

    Ten gallons at a time are put through a two-day process of heating up, resting, and heating up again to get the water to evaporate and allow the salt to crystallize.  She estimates that one gallon of water produces only three and a half ounces of salt.  That's over a gallon of water to produce that small bottle of Outer Banks SeaSalt pictured above.

    It's a very flaky salt. Too coarse for a typical salt shaker, it can cake together, as it has no preservatives.  Amy says she shudders when sees anybody shaking up her jars.  But that really doesn't bother the pure, clean taste of this sea salt.  And what better way to have a taste of the Outer Banks?  If you'd like to order some or find stores that carry her salt, check out her website here.

     Be sure to try Amy's terrific and easy recipe for salty, candied pecans, listed below.

NOT THE 1ST SALT "WORKS" on the COAST

     Before the advent of "making" ice, salt was vital.  It was used not just to season, but to preserve.  Meat was salted and dried, as was fish.

     How important was salt?  Back in 1775, there were three laws on the books of the fledging Provincial Congress dealing with salt.  One set a price ceiling; another rationed the salt supply; and the other offered a reward for the first person to establish a salt "works."  A century later, there were several producing salt along NC's coast - in Currituck County in the Outer Banks, others near Beaufort and Morehead City, and down around Wilmington.  You can still see the outdoor salt oven and huge cast iron pans used at the Sloop Point Plantation near Topsail Beach.  Confederate soldiers received a pound and a half of salt per month among their rations.

     Earlier, during the Revolutionary War, salt became really scarce; thus those three laws.  British ships captured salt shipments from the West Indies.  Pirates did, too.  Ships carrying supplies sank.  Folks were getting desperate all over the South, especially along the Outer Banks, where salt was used to store fish.  Remember, no ice!

     So a plea from the Outer Banks was raised to the new Congress in Philadelphia, and Benjamin Franklin sent the Outer Bankers a gift: a pamphlet describing how to go about making salt from sea water.  Salt "boiling" soon got underway, and it was reported that "....every Old Wife is now scouring her pint pot for the necessary operation."

     Evaporation is not the only source of salt, however.  Morton Salt lists facilities in Texas and Louisiana where underground salt deposits, called salt domes, are mined, then processed to strip away minerals to make it pure white, and anti-clumping chemicals are added. Other salt deposits rim the Great Lakes region, and there's one in Kansas.  China is second only to the US in salt production.

    One could argue that all salt was once upon a time a product of the sea, even if it was trapped below the earth's surface, right?

     You'll see several varieties of big chunks of salt in various colors for sale now at gourmet shops, sold with a salt "grater," too.  And there are so many varieties of "sea salts," like flour de sel, the premium and most expensive salt that's skimmed from salt ponds by hand; and Celtic and Himalayan, which claim more healthy nutrients because of their gray and pink colors, respectively, which represent different elements.
Clockwise:  kosher salt, Outer Banks SeaSalt, Himalayan salt, smoked sea salt

     And then there's kosher salt, that's been pressed and re-cut, and dissolves more quickly so tastes saltier even though it isn't.  And we've all poured rock salt on the ice in our ice cream makers to keep the temp as cold as possible.

     This old salt could bore you to tears about all the types of salt available.  Take this with a grain of salt:  on my stove there are three container, one filled with "sea salt" from a grocery store shelf; one with kosher salt; and the best, in my book, a container of Outer Banks SeaSalt.

     If "you're worth one's salt" in the kitchen, just try a variety of salts and see what works best for you. (That phrase came from Roman soldiers being paid an allowance of salt called a "salarium," what we call a "salary" today.)

RECIPE from THE OUTER BANKS EPICUREAN
     Amy Huggins Gaw, aka The Outer Banks Epicurean, (also on Facebook) graciously allowed me to share this recipe, which she uses to top off a sweet potato dish with caramel sauce....so very good I don't know if it's a veggie or a dessert!  These pecans make a great snack or appetizer, or as a nice surprise in a salad or topping for casseroles or cakes......  Enjoy many ways!

SALTY CANDIED PECANS

2 1/2 cups N.C. pecans, chopped
2 teaspoons good butter, melted
1 cup sugar
1 teaspoon cinnamon
3 or 4 generous pinches of Outer Banks SeaSalt
1/4 cup water
1 teaspoon vanilla

Toss pecans in the melted butter, then roast in a preheated 300 degree oven for 20 to 25 minutes, stirring frequently.  Cool.

Combine sugar, cinnamon, salt, and water in a saucepan; cook, stirring, over medium heat until sugar is dissolved. Boil to 236 degrees, the soft-ball stage.  Remove from heat; add vanilla and pecans and stir until mixture is creamy.

Turn out onto waxed paper and use a fork to separate pecans.  These are vey hot.  Wait for them to cool before you pop one in your mouth.  At this point you can hit them with another pinch of SeaSalt if you are feeling extra salty.




Sunday, February 17, 2013

SHUCKING TRUTHS



MORAL DILEMMA:  TELLING THE TRUTH ABOUT FOOD SOURCES
     Me:  So where are these oysters from?
     Server:  Out in the sound.
     Me:  The Pamlico?  Rose Bay?  Stumpy Point?
     Server:  (shoulder shrug)  They're not coming from the creeks and rivers anymore.  Government shut that down already.
     The two servers are shucking a peck of freshly steamed, small oysters.  We slurp them down, dunking them first in melted butter and cocktail sauce. And we're happy.  The oysters are good, with a nice salty taste and good texture.
     Georgie, the owner of Georgie's Sports & Oyster Bar, or as his wife affectionately calls it, the SOB, stops to chat.  He tells us the oysters he's getting now are pretty small to be coming out of Texas.
     Me:  Huh.  Your server told us they were from around here.
An oyster processing plant near Swan Quarter, NC
     Georgie:  Well, you know when folks ask where the oysters come from, I tell my boys to ask them, "where do you want them to be from?"  And laughs.
    So, I'm kinda flummoxed.  I want to support this local business, because it's a sweet Mom & Pops kind of place in Belhaven, a town where there's not much else going on.  The crab processing business is gone, lost to changing traditions and the recession.  Boating is slow.  And local oysters have been staging a comeback over the past few years.
     I like the friendly exchanges between us and other diners at the bar, and the way Georgie and his staff chat and check with us.  It's a simple place, with a simple menu, and it's all good.  I liked it, a lot.
     But let's be honest here:  Don't tell me what I wanna know. Tell me the shucking truth.

MISSION:  WINGS & OYSTERS
     It's become a wintertime ritual, making our way to Lake Mattamuskeet to see the tundra swans.  We saw several hundred feeding in the fertile, flat fields of this huge farming community, but few on the lake.  But as we drove and hiked along the paths of this National Wildlife Refuge, there were plenty of geese, ducks, ibis, glebes and a bevy of others I cannot recognize still feeding in the shallow waters



Lake Mattamuskeet is one of the "crater" lakes that dot the southeast near coastlines.  It draws hundreds of thousands of birds from Canada and Alaska, offering them a gourmet retreat each winter.

It's fascinating to watch these birds, especially when they take off at sunset for their overnight "beds."  The music of their wings and cacaphony of their calls is awesome to hear.

And what the birds love about this lake - the abundance of seafood - we humans love, too.


Georgie's family owned one of the larger crabbing facilities in Belhaven, Baker Crab Company.  That's where they'd steam the crabs, clean the meat and pack it into one pound plastic tubs.   
He shared an old tub with me, showing me his mother's recipe printed on the side.  Be sure to examine and remove any shells before mixing up this traditional, Down East casserole.

MARY EDWARDS' CRABMEAT CASSEROLE RECIPE       ....................................................


3 boiled eggs, shelled and chopped
1 cup chopped boiled shrimp
1 cup crabmeat
1 cup chopped celery
1/3 cup chopped bell pepper
1/3 cup chopped onions
2 teaspoons Worcestershire sauce
salt and pepper to taste
3/4 cup to 1 cup mayonnaise

1 cup soft bread crumbs
2 to 3 tablespoons butter, cubed


Mix all of above ingredients (except for bread crumbs and butter).   Place in a greased casserole.  Top with breadcrumbs and dot with butter.  Bake at 325 degrees for 35 to 40 minutes.

Tuesday, January 22, 2013

Gated alleys in Charleston are always intriguing.  May we come in?
COLD in CHARLESTON = CAULIFLOWER SOUP

     "Doing the Charleston" in our book means "eating well."  On a recent weekend getaway, our Christmas present to each other, we failed to miss a meal. We hustled to make it south through South Carolina to the Holy City, as Charleston is known, for Friday dinner at FIG (Food is Good), at the only time available, an early 5:30.  No problem.  We lingered over cocktails, then sated our appetites with three divine courses, finishing early enough to "walk it off" downtown.   

A Bloody Mary, spiked with a slice of country ham and a pickled green bean, is an excellent way to start Sunday Brunch at HUSK.



     After a morning walk, we ambled for a lunchtime worship at Sean Brock's HUSK, where only regional, Southern foods are served. 

      Not even olive oil was poured in this kitchen until Chef Brock found an olive grove in Texas that was producing a good quality oil.  Just the whole idea of serving only what you find in your region, in season, is so radical to many, but I love it, and that has earned Chef Brock accolades from the food world.  We were so enamored with our first meal, that back we went for Brunch on Sunday.  Unfortunately, dinner reservations require about a month's lead time.  


Consider the Source, at HUSK in Charleston, SC



















In the meantime, we walked and walked to make room for yet another worship session at Sean Brock's table, this time for dinner at McCRADY's. 
     
REGIONAL SPECIALTIES
    I was delighted to find on these menus some of my favorite providers, like BORDER SPRINGS FARM's gorgeous and delicious Kathadin lamb.  And cider to pair with pork and rabbit from FOGGY RIDGE CIDER.  
    
 


CAULIFLOWER SOUP
     One of the dishes we loved at HUSK was a sumptuous, seasonal soup made with roasted cauliflower.  That bitter taste that cauliflower sometimes has just disappears when roasted, getting sweeter and more flavorful.
     So, when I got home, I had fun in the kitchen trying to reproduce that soul-warming dish.  I love that fact that it's so creamy, yet it has NO CREAM, unless you just can't help yourself and add it at the end.
     We had some duck confit on hand, and that made an excellent garnish and companion to the soup.
      And, it's EASY.  Please give the recipe that follows a try!

Roasted Cauliflower Soup


ROASTED CAULIFLOWER SOUP Recipe

1 to 2 heads of cauliflower
1 medium sweet onion, peeled and cut into quarters
1 whole head garlic
about 1/4 cup olive oil
bunch of fresh thyme
about 4 cups vegetable stock
salt and pepper to taste
1/2 cup freshly grated Parmesan cheese
2 tablespoons chopped parsley, for garnish
OPTIONAL:  1/2 cup heavy cream
   2 to 4 tablespoons chopped duck confit

Preheat oven to 350 degrees.

Break cauliflower into small clumps of florets.  Place them in a roasting pan.  Add onion.

Slice off the top quarter of the garlic head.  Coat it with a drizzle of olive oil, and add to the roasting pan.  Add 4 to 6 sprigs of thyme.  Then drizzle all with olive oil, stirring, until all glistens.  Loosely cover with foil, and place in oven until cauliflower is very tender, about 30 minutes.  Remove and cool.

Squeeze the softened, roasted garlic from its paper coat.  Remove the thyme sprigs.

If you have an immersion blender, place all roasted veggies in a large pot.  Add about half of the vegetable stock, and puree. Or, use a blender to puree with a smaller amount of the stock.

Pureed and simmering



After the mixture is pureed, add enough stock as needed for your desired consistency.  Bring to a soft boil, then turn the heat down and simmer gently to warm through.  Add more thyme leaves (removed from the stems), and season with salt and pepper.  When the soup is hot enough, stir in about 2/3s of the Parmesan.

Ladle the soup into bowls, then garnish with more Parmesan and parsley.  Add duck confit if using.


                                               ~~~~

2nd EDITION OF THE OUTER BANKS COOKBOOK has hit the stores!  Loving the new, color photos and about a dozen new recipes and stories!  Please let me know what you think.






Wednesday, December 19, 2012

TWELVE DAYS OF CHRISTMAS

A Locavore's Delight


TWELVE DAYS OF CAROLINA FOODIE'S CHRISTMAS

What's a locavore to do when it comes to holiday gift giving and treats?  Turn to local products, I'd say.

So here's my Christmas List, dear Santa . . . .hint, hint.   Or, I'm spoiling what might find its way under my friends' trees.


ON THE FIRST DAY OF CHRISTMAS, MY TRUE LOVE GAVE TO ME:  One jar of Outer Banks SeaSalt, hand-harvested from the salty waters of the Atlantic Ocean near Southern Shores by the "accidental saltist," Amy Huggins Gaw, better known as THE OUTER BANKS EPICUREAN.  










ON THE SECOND DAY OF CHRISTMAS, HERE'S WHAT MY TRUE LOVE FOUND FOR THIS LOCAVORE:   a 2 ounce jar of Rainbow Trout Caviar from SUNBURST TROUT COMPANY, in Canton, NC.  


ON THE THIRD DAY, MY SANTA GOT ME......WAIT A MINUTE, IS THAT CHOCOLATE BAR MISSING SOME OF ITS 3 OUNCES?????  From Escazu, in Raleigh.  Artisan chocolates, and oh, my!

And, so after a smack, what did my Santa find for me next?  FOUR BOTTLES FROM FOGGY RIDGE CIDER, including my very favorite, Pippin Gold!  After dinner, with cheese, or just chillin' by itself!








ON THE FIFTH DAY OF THIS LOCAVORE'S CHRISTMAS, MY SWEETIE FOUND 5 LBS OF BERTIE COUNTY PEANUTS to roast and eat while watching UNC basketball games!


And on the SIXTH DAY, he brought home a SIX PACK OF ARTISAN BREWS FROM North Carolina, like Asheville's Highland Brew, Kinston's Mother Earth, and Greensboro's Natty Greene.  Ditto to have during the Carolina ballgames, either women's or men's teams!




ON THE SEVENTH DAY OF CHRISTMAS, MY TRUE LOVES ARE . . . . WELL, LEGAL.  . . . MOONSHINE!!!  From NC's very own TROY & SONS  or a fifth of Junior Johnson's MIDNIGHT MOON.    After all, Junior did get his start racing away from the law for stuff like this.




ON THE EIGHTH DAY, sweeten me up with some local honey.  I love BEE BLESSED honey of all sorts of flavors, depending on the season, that I find at the NC State Farmers Market.  Try your regional honey.



On the NINTH DAY, how 'bout pounds and pounds of SHELLED PECANS for stashing in my freezer?  These came from my brother-in-law, Dan Finch, master potter, blueberry plant grower, and the best thing that ever happened to my sister, Amy.







The TENTH DAY?  Promises, promises to explore these ten FARM-TO-TABLE restaurants in my home state, which means ROAD TRIPS that I love!

KNIFE AND FORK, Spruce Pine; CURATE, Asheville; ASHTEN'S in Southern Pines; CROOK'S CORNER in Chapel Hill; LUCKY 32, Greensboro & Cary; PROSCUITO, in Hillsborough;  CHEF AND THE FARMER in Kinston; THE BLUE POINT in Duck; KETCH 55 in Avon; and BASNIGHT'S LONE CEDAR in Nags Head.




And on the ELEVENTH DAY of Christmas, my true love gave me the best ever shrimp, the green-tails that are caught in NC's Pamlico and Core Sounds during the late fall.  Peeled and ready to go, in my freezer.  Oh, shrimp and grits, or maybe grilled or just sauteed with garlic and butter over linguine?




And on the TWELFTH DAY OF CHRISTMAS, my true love, exhausted, gave me 12-month subscriptions to these very fine, local magazines:  EDIBLE PIEDMONT, WNC, and Raleigh's new WALTER.




MERRY, MERRY CHRISTMAS, Y'ALL!

Wednesday, November 14, 2012

SUNNY SIDE is OPEN, So Things are Looking Up




BIRTHDAY WISHES
     Slurping down oysters at Sunny Side was high on the list of the hubby's birthday wishes.  So, ROAD TRIP!  Williamston, NC is a little crossroads of a town floating in the flat coastal plains just inland from the Albemarle Sound, about two hours or so from the Triangle.
     Sunny Side is so worth the drive.  It's a landmark, steaming oysters since 1935.  There's a large bar room in the front, where live music keeps things lively on a Saturday night while you wait for an hour or two for your turn in the back room around the horseshoe-shaped bar.
     Slide onto a stool, then peer onto the floor in the middle.  Yep, wood shavings.  Catches the drips when the buckets of oysters are brought in from out back, steaming and overflowing with the bivalves.




     I picked Jesse, our server and shucker for the night, out of the line up of all the shuckers' mug shots printed on the paper placemats, while we waited for our peck to steam.  He's been working at the Sunny Side for 25 years, always his night job, the second one that keeps him afloat, he said, as he poured hot butter into little saucers, then added another bowl of horseradish for us to mix into Sunny Side's own sweet cocktail sauce made with a secret recipe.
     The menu is simple:  oysters, steamed, not fried or baked.  Shrimp, steamed. Crab legs, steamed.  There's no coleslaw, no fries, no veggies, except broccoli smothered with cheese, if you insist.  There aren't even any hushpuppies, just packages of saltines opened by each server as you need them.
     Jesse chatted as he put his wooden board on the lower workspace, and with bare hands - no gloves, mind you - started opening our prizes, distributing them equally in the small bowls set in front of us.




     The oysters this past week were from Texas, and like most things Texan, were big and juicy.  Next week, around Thanksgiving this year, they hope to score some oysters from North Carolina waters, from the Pamlico Sound, down near Stumpy Point and Engelhard.
     Our bill, for two pecks of oysters - it was a birthday, mind you - and for a pound of steamed shrimp, and a few beers, was about the same as a date for a full-fledged meal.  But, it made the birthday boy very happy, and was well worth the drive of dodging deer in the dark.

TRY THIS RECIPE, AT HOME
    Here's a delicious recipe from a local......





CRAB SLOUGH OYSTERS   (C) from THE OUTER BANKS COOKBOOK:  Recipes & Traditions from NC's Barrier Islands, by Elizabeth Wiegand, 2008, Globe Pequot Press.

            Crab Slough is in the Pamlico Sound at the southern end of Roanoke Island near Wanchese.  It’s a well-known area for harvesting prime oysters because the water is slightly rough, being near the Oregon Inlet, so that only single oysters, rather than clumps, are formed.  The water is rather brackish which gives the oysters a delicious salty taste.  Frequently, tiny pea crabs, themselves a gourmet treat, are found residing in the oysters. Crab Slough oyster beds were “claimed” and passed down from generation to generation, says Frank White, a Manteo native. 
            Imagine White’s surprise when on a trip to New York City years ago, he found Crab Slough Oysters on the menu at Joe Allen, a restaurant near the theatre district.  He adapted the dish by the chef, Ed Gafney. 

3 dozen oysters, preferably from Crab Slough, in their shells
2 tablespoons olive oil
2 cloves garlic, minced
1 pound fresh or frozen spinach, thawed
1 ½ sticks butter
1 tablespoon Worcestershire sauce
½ teaspoon hot pepper sauce

  1. Open and remove oysters from the shells.  If you should find tiny crabs, be sure to save and include with the oysters.  Reserve each of the larger, flat halves of the oyster shells, and place on a large baking sheet or pan.
  2. Heat the olive oil in a large skillet over medium heat, and add the garlic, stirring and cooking for just a minute or until the garlic is almost brown. 
  3. Add the spinach and sauté until fresh spinach is thoroughly wilted or frozen spinach is warm.  Drain the spinach in a colander.
  4. Divide spinach among the oyster shells.  Place one oyster (and one pea crab, if present) on top of the spinach.
  5. In a heavy skillet, melt the butter, and add the Worcestershire sauce and hot pepper sauce.  Cook slowly, stirring occasionally, until butter is nut brown.
  6. Preheat the oven to broil.
  7. Drizzle each prepared oyster with the browned butter mixture.  Place under hot broiler for two to five minutes, or until oysters are thoroughly heated.  Serve immediately.

Thursday, September 27, 2012

GRITS with BUGS? OBX SHRIMP and GRITS

Shrimp and Grits from Basnight's Lone Cedar

            Grits with bugs.  Conjures up those fly-in-your-face pantry moths when you open up grains, doesn’t?  But grits with bugs is how the old-timers on the Outer Banks would have described the iconic dish of Shrimp and Grits - had they ever eaten it back in the day.
            Asked to speak about Shrimp and Grits at Sunday’s Brunch at the Day at the Docks in Hatteras a couple of weekends ago, I posed this to some older Bankers:  “Did you grow up eating shrimp and grits?” 
            “Naw.  We had fried fish for breakfast.   Or grits with runny eggs.  But not shrimp and grits.”   And, it turns out that hardly anyone did outside of the Low Country of South Carolina, until 1985, when The NY Times published an article written by a homesick Southerner, Craig Claiborne, a Mississipian by birth. 






            Claiborne headed south to Chapel Hill to check out the dishes he’d heard about coming from the kitchen of Crook’s Corner.  Bill Neal, owner and chef, was among the first to plan his menu around seasonal and regional ingredients.  Neal was a rural South Carolina boy who settled in the Triangle after graduating from Duke University.  He’d left both his wife and their restaurant, La Residence, which as its name implies, had a more French-influenced menu and style of preparation.  Neal took the techniques he had learned and used Southern foods from his childhood at his new place, Crook’s Corner.  It had no white linen tablecloths, but it did have a pink pig on the roof. 
Clairborne was intrigued with Neal’s take on Southern foods, so he placed his big self on a stool in Neal’s kitchen and took notes.  After the recipe for Neal’s Shrimp and Grits appeared, the dish took off quicker than you can burn garlic, appearing on menus especially across the South.  Northern restaurants had grits shipped from the southern mills and shrimp from up and down the Southeast coast.  Thus, the icon was born.

PLACE OF ORIGIN
            Bill Neal gets a lot of credit for Shrimp and Grits, but he was cooking from an old cookbook from the 1950s, CHARLESTON RECEIPTS.  As the recipe header noted, “Breakfast Shrimp” was a long-time breakfast favorite in the coastal region, what is referred to as the Low Country of South Carolina. That recipe called for cooking the shrimp in bacon grease, with a bit of onion and green pepper added.  A little bit of tomato catsup and Worcestershire sauce was added.
            But it turns out that recipe was a gussied up version of a “poor man’s breakfast.”  Like other folks who live off the land, folks in the rural Low Country fed themselves with whatever they had on hand.  They sold the larger shrimp caught by nets and kept the small shrimp for their own consumption.   Like my grandmother, they kept a metal can of bacon grease on the stovetop, which they used to sauté the shrimp.  They added pieces of bacon, or ham scraps, if they had any, but not tasso ham, because they were not Cajun.  They didn’t use butter, because it was too precious if hand-churned and hard to keep in the hot Southern summers. Herbs and cheese?  Naw.
            Bill Neal’s version is a nice riff on that basic Low Country, poor man’s breakfast, using bacon, sliced mushrooms and scallions with a little garlic and lemon juice.  And he served it over boiled grits, as the folks in Charleston did, except they called them “hominy grits.”


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SO WHAT EXACTLY ARE GRITS?
            Here in the Grits Belt, from North Carolina down on through Louisiana, some say Texas, too, you can find three types of grits.
            All grits come from dried corn.  Duh. Then it’s ground.  Double Duh.
            Well, the Charlestonians call their grits “hominy grits,” a name derived from a Native American term, “rockahomine.”  Native Americans made these types of grits from dried corn kernels that are treated with “lye,” an alkali they made by running water through ashes.  Why?  Because it would remove the outer hull, leaving a white puff of corn that they would dry, again.  It could then be stored and used whole, in a stew, like the New Mexican posole.  Or, the dried puff could be ground into HOMINY GRITS. 
            Interestingly, it was this process of using lye that prevented the Native Americans from suffering from pellagra, a niacin-deficiency that Europeans developed because they ate relatively nothing but corn during some mighty lean years.  The lye process changes the structure of the starch.  How smart the New World natives were!
            The type of grits most restaurants and good home cooks use today are stone-ground grits.  And here’s the thing - they’re nothing new under the sun. For centuries, farmers and homesteaders have dried corn, then ground it between two large stones.  Stone-ground grits are the best tasting because they retain that outer hull, and the inner hull as well.  It’s the oils in the inner hull, especially, that add the most flavor to these kinds of grits, and the reason they can go rancid without storing them in the fridge.
            The other type of grits is hardly worth mentioning.  They’re the packaged, commercially ground “Quick Grits” available on most grocery store shelves.  After both outer and inner hulls have been removed, the dried corn kernels are pulverized with steel rollers.  But that removes all flavor, and much of the richer texture.  It’s like the grated, dried and flavorless Parmesan cheese that comes in that big green box, versus a hunk of real Parmesan that’s held tight while grating it over your pasta.


SO WHY NO SHRIMP AND GRITS IN THE OUTER BANKS?

Shrimping is a huge industry on the Outer Banks today.  Ou?r barrier islands create a version of the Low Country, with inner sounds filled with marsh grass and shallow waters.
            So why did no one I asked remember eating shrimp and grits while growing up? 
            Here’s an astonishing fact:  It wasn’t until the 1930s that folks in the Outer Banks ate shrimp.  Truly!  They did not eat shrimp!
            “My grandmother thought they were worms,” said Della Basnight, a Manteo native.  “She wouldn’t eat them.  Thought we were crazy. They were bugs, for God’s sake.”
            “I could see them in the ocean grass while I was out fishing,” said my buddy John Gaskill, age 96.  “But when I left Wanchese (for the Navy) in 1933, we weren’t eating shrimp.  We thought they were bugs.”
            Shrimp nestle in the mud, and fouled up nets when Outer Bankers dragged the sounds for fish. 


So here’s the Great Circle of Life as far as Shrimp and Grits go.  Outer Banks fishermen would pluck those nasty “bugs” out of their nets and plop them into barrels.  Then, when they got over to the mainland, they traded those stinky barrels of shrimp for barrels of corn.  It was a win-win, for the farmers used them as fertilizer, and the Bankers dried the corn, sometimes on old sails spread on roofs or bushes.  After stripping the dried kernels from the cobs, they would take them to one of the dozen windmills that dotted the Outer Banks. 

Replica at the Island Farm on Roanoke Island
Think about it:  Couldn’t do gravity flow mills using creeks or water wheels on the flat beaches, now could you?  So they built German post-style windmills, that could be turned to face whichever way the wind was blowing.  The blades of the windmill could be covered with sails, so as to better control the speed of the turning stones.  If the mill got going too fast, the stones would scorch the corn.  The summertime breeze was sometimes nonexistent, so the sails helped there, too.  And so that’s how the Outer Banks got their cornmeal and grits – sometimes traded for “bugs” or shrimp.


SHRIMPING HITS THE BANKS             

Native Americans ate shrimp, say archaeologists.  But European settlers were a little slow in catching on to this succulent protein from the sea.  Like with the blackened red fish craze, folks in the New Orleans area introduced the rest of the new settlers in America to eating shrimp.  Records show that in 1735, seine nets were ordered from France fishermen from New Orleans.  They dried the shrimp in the sun, as the Chinese and Mexicans had for centuries.
            Southport, near Wilmington, was the first seaport in North Carolina to build a shrimp cannery in the first decades of the 1900s.  Diesel engines, adapted for boats, played a huge role, allowing the use of “otter trawls” rather than a large seine net that could only be used in shallow waters.  Then ice became readily available from ice plants.  The small island where the Roanoke Island Festival Park is today was once called “Ice Plant Island.”

         Some fishermen left Wanchese, the big fishing village even today on the Outer Banks, and headed to the Gulf of Mexico during the 1930s to learn how to shrimp.  When they began pulling nets for shrimp, they were called “bug hunters” along the coast of North Carolina. 
            The shrimp industry steadily grew from just a couple hundred of thousand pounds in 1931, to more than 10 million pounds caught in the wild each year today, making it NC’s largest seafood industry.

TODAY’S SHRIMP AND GRITS
            Check out the menus in many of the restaurants that dot the Outer Banks, and you’ll find their version of Shrimp and Grits.  Some will be served with cheese grits, some with creamy grits and creamy, thick sauce with the shrimp, and some with have wild mushrooms or roasted garlic or diced tomatoes.  Most feature andouille sausage or smoked bacon.
            Even though the dish has no culinary history on the Outer Banks, let’s claim them anyway.  After all, we’ve got shrimp – those bugs that used to foul up nets – and we had grits, thanks to windmills and barrels of stinky shrimp. 
           Hatteras Island chef and Seaside innkeeper, Chris Latimer, created a marvelous Shrimp and Grits for the Days at the Docks brunch, using fresh Pamlico shrimp from fishmonger Jeff Aiken, along with andouille sausage, roasted garlic and fresh bell peppers prepared in a deep, dark roux.  Fresh, stone-ground grits were donated by Carolina Grits & Co of Rocky Mount.  What a marvelous treat!