Chile

If you’re a Ro*tel lover, then this is your dish. (In case you aren’t familiar, it’s a blend of diced tomatoes with green chiles, often used to make a mean chili con queso.) We love how Tanya adds spinach to her version of this popular Southern dip, so it makes us feel healthy and good even though it’s still a “comfort” food. We’re typically starving upon arrival, and a great spicy spinach dip with a bowl of tortilla chips is a good way to take the edge off. Throw your luggage down and dig in!

PAT Gina’s told me before, “If you like the kickoff, then you’re going to love these poppers!” They have the perfect amount of kick to them. Between the smokiness of the paprika and the heat of the cayenne pepper, take one bite and the game is on! We remove the jalapeño seeds so that the poppers aren’t too hot, but leave them in if you like really spicy. After all, I am a hot man, and I mean that both palate-wise and physical-wise (and, as you can tell, I’m very, very humble). Jalapeños are a vegetable that you can get seriously creative with: filling them up with cheese, using buttermilk in a batter, and deep-frying these little puppies makes one of the best appetizers you can imagine.

You can’t have collard greens without corn bread, and these bite-sized corncob-shaped sticks are a cute way to serve them. You can also bake the batter in a 9-inch cast-iron skillet—just cook the vegetables in the same skillet you’d like to bake the bread in.

Spot prawns are actually shrimp, though they do sport four white spots on their shells, which makes the name at least partially accurate. By any name, these firm, sweet, and delicate aquatic beasties are a Pacific delicacy shown to their best advantage when served as a crudo and accented with clean flavors. If you can’t find live spot prawns or other sashimi-grade shrimp, scallops, ahi, or albacore would all work nicely with the chile and mint. Wait to combine the chile, mint, and lime until you are ready to serve so that the lime juice doesn’t “cook” the mint.

A staple of barbecue and “meat-and-three” joints everywhere, hot pepper vinegar is one of the most ubiquitous of all the Southern condiments. It’s doused liberally over greens, pulled pig, field peas, gumbo, beans and rice—you name it.

Whenever I’m at the market during tomato season, I keep my eyes peeled for what the farmers call “ugly tomatoes.” You can buy them for a song because they’re bruised, misshapen, or ripe to the point of bursting, but that makes them perfect for canning or cooking. This sweet and savory tomato jam, which is equally at home on toast for breakfast or on a baguette with fresh mozzarella and baby greens for lunch, is one of my standards.

My dad’s crunchy, garlicky dills accompanied the majority of the sandwiches I ate as a child. They were perfectly crisp every time—that satisfying snapping sound accompanying each bite was one of the best things about them—a feat my dad achieved simply by using small, firm, freshly picked cucumbers. Try to pick cucumbers that are already short enough to fit easily in the jar, about 4 inches long for pint jars. Or, for unexpected shape, taste, and color, make them using round yellow lemon cucumbers cut into wedges.

In this variation, the smoky spice of roasted jalapeño combines with the brightness of fresh herbs to form a creamy spread that adds new dimension to dishes like Fried Oyster Po’ Boys (page 118) and Squash Puppies (page 65).

Meatloaf, like chili, is something I make when I have a dozen or so little jars of something-or-other in the fridge that need to be used up. That’s how I came up with pickled jalapeño, which adds a nice kick to this otherwise traditional meatloaf. In this version, a little pork adds extra flavor to the mix. It makes for a delicious and hearty meal, but it’s great for leftovers, too, which can be used to make sandwiches that are as scrumptious as they are out of the ordinary. Peter loves open-face meatloaf sandwiches topped with a fried egg.

One of the things I love most about Southern food is how it is constantly evolving, and these days that change has a lot to do with the culinary traditions of recent immigrants from Mexico, Cuba, and Central and South America. I first learned how to make mole from my friend Saul, after I tried his rendition at one of my favorite Durham restaurants, Nana’s, and persuaded him to teach me how to make it myself. The South’s favorite game bird is smothered in this rich, spicy Mexican sauce infused with dark chocolate and spices, thickened with ground seeds and nuts, and spiked with numerous chiles, exemplifying the old-yet-new trend. The result is incredibly complex and distinctive. You will have extra mole, so give it a try on other dishes, like eggs, grilled chicken, or steak.

Cornbread sticks are a Southern specialty and an example of function following form. I imagine that whoever dreamed them up was probably just trying to be cute by fashioning a corn-shaped mold for cornbread, but the end product, with its high ratio of crispy crust to soft innards and perfect shape for dipping in chili or pot likker, is a whole different animal. In this version, I kick things up a notch by adding sharp Cheddar cheese and spicy jalapeño pepper. If you don’t have (or care to purchase) a corn stick pan—cast-iron only—you can, of course, use a skillet.

This slow-roasted pork dish came to me from my Bayona partner, Regina Keever. The succulent meat lends itself to two fantastic preparations. For a Latin-inspired meal, serve it with Green Rice (p. 309). Or make ciabatta sandwiches with Pickled Cabbage and Creole Mustard (p. 154), from the leftovers.

A sweet, hot pepper glaze is just the thing to complement the rich flavor of duck. In this recipe, the duck breast is scored, rubbed with herbs, and pan-seared. Be sure to get the pan nice and hot before adding the duck, to ensure a crispy, well-browned skin. A fine dice of jalapeño adds a bit more fire to the sauce, while red bell pepper offers sweetness. This dish can be served with any number of sides, from Honey-glazed Carrots and Turnips (p. 294) to Wild and Dirty Rice (p. 311).

While these are definitely a contemporary take on a Mexican classic, vegetable enchiladas are as satisfying and flavorful as any meat version. The preparation takes some time, but they’re a cinch to assemble. My advice is to make the sauce a day in advance or to start this early in the day before you get too hungry. The only difficult part about this recipe is deciding what vegetables to leave out. There are countless choices, but I’ve narrowed it down to a tasty combination that works well with the mildly spicy sauce. Substitute or add your seasonal favorites, including—but not limited to—chayote squash (known as mirliton in New Orleans), corn, yellow squash, pumpkin, eggplant, and so forth. If you want to fire up the grill, that’s another great way to prepare the vegetables. Just keep the veggies in large pieces, brush them with a little olive oil and seasoning, and grill a few minutes on both sides; then cool them and cut into smaller pieces. You also have a number of cheeses to choose from, such as white cheddar, Monterey Jack, and pepper Jack.

Shrimp and okra go together like oysters and artichokes (which is to say, they’re made for each other). And to my mind it’s no coincidence that corn and tomatoes are at their peak around the same time as the okra. In this recipe, they all find themselves swimming happily in a broth scented with allspice and thyme, and zippy with fresh jalapeños. If you are leery of that much spice in the broth, leave out the jalapeños and just serve some chopped up alongside, for the daring ones among you.

These are great on quesadillas, black beans, and in Cornmeal-crusted Oyster and Black-eyed Pea Salad with Jalapeño Dressing (p. 123).