Onion

These quick pickles make nice nibbles with drinks, and are great served with charcuterie. You can vary the vegetables according to what looks best in the market—just make sure they are fresh and attractive and that you cut them into roughly the same size so they become tender at the same time.

Any recipe for barbecue sauce is bound to be contentious, no matter the formula. That’s because there are as many versions of this master sauce as there are Southerners willing to defend them as definitive. Whether thick or runny, tomato-based or vinegar, all Southern barbecue sauces get their complex flavor by playing on the contrasts between spicy and sweet, tangy and smoky. I’m nonpartisan enough to appreciate them all, but of course I’m partial to the western Tennessee strains—one sharp and vinegary, the other sweet and tomato-thick—I grew up on. With tomato, vinegar, and a dash of mustard, this all-purpose hybrid version offers the best of all worlds.

I give my version of classic pickle relish a twist by using green tomatoes and cabbage rather than the usual cucumbers.

This traditional mixed-vegetable relish, which usually features some combination of cabbage, tomatoes, peppers, and onion, is like a Southern version of sauerkraut or Korean kimchi. It has its origins in Appalachia, where big, crisp heads of cabbage thrive in the cooler mountain climate. It’s typically served on stewed beans and rice, but it is excellent, too, on hot dogs and barbecue sandwiches. This version, which features the bright, tart flavor of green tomatoes, comes from an old recipe in my grandmother’s collection—so old that it called for “5 cents’ worth of celery seeds.”

My friend Roxy makes this zingy coleslaw, which I love for its sweet and tangy flavors. It’s as close as I come to making that classic, creamy Southern slaw that goes with everything from pulled pork or fried fish to burgers and fries. It also makes a great topping for grilled hot dogs or chicken sausages served in grilled pita bread.

Sweet Vidalia onions are the perfect foil for the salty crust on these beer-battered onion rings, which make great party food along with Pimiento Cheese Burgers (page 187). Serve them in high street-food style by piling individual servings in handheld cones rolled from newspaper, brown paper bags, or butcher paper. Let the batter sit for the full three hours; this will allow deep, yeasty flavors to develop.

Long-simmering red beans practically cook themselves, a fact that didn’t escape the many generations of hardworking Louisiana Creole women who supposedly made this dish every Monday, on laundry day. Even now, many Creole restaurants serve red beans and rice as a lunch special on Mondays.

Roasted vegetables are so easy and delicious—with nothing more than a drizzle of olive oil, a dash of sea salt, and a hot oven, the vegetables get all crispy and caramelized on the outside and soft in the middle. It’s a great dish for company, since it can be made ahead of time and reheated or served at room temperature. But even when you don’t have guests, cook enough for a crowd and use the leftovers in salads, sandwiches, quesadillas, or omelets. Most all vegetables are good for roasting, including turnips, beets, rutabagas, fennel, asparagus, corn, summer squash, tomatoes, onions, garlic, and all kinds of winter squash and pumpkins. Just make sure to wait to add quick-cooking vegetables until any slow-cooking vegetables are almost done.

This recipe makes much more than you’ll need for one meal, but you won’t be sorry you have extra—it spruces up everything from toasted bread and steamed vegetables to grilled fish or chicken.

Étouffée is a traditional New Orleans one-pot dish whose name literally—and appropriately—comes from the French word for “smothered.” Like gumbo, étouffée is a highly seasoned stew of fish or meat and vegetables that is served over steamed rice. Also like gumbo, it has a big-hearted, homey quality that makes it one of my favorite dishes to serve to crowds (especially when they include friends who aren’t from the South). Although serious purists might disapprove, I never make étouffée the same way twice, and I don’t take sides when it comes to never-ending debates about the proper shade of roux or whether there’s room for tomatoes in a bona fide étouffée. For me, one of the joys of Cajun and Creole stews is their variability, so feel free to experiment.

I like to make this in early summer, when the first summer vegetables are coming in and the flounder, which can grow to as much as twenty-five pounds, are running small—what our fishmonger calls “plate size.” They are so fresh and dainty at that time of year that I usually budget one whole fish per person. I sometimes serve this simple dish with a green salad or fluffy steamed rice, but you don’t have to, as it’s really a complete meal in and of itself—the vegetable ratatouille, made with smaller-than-usual dice, doubles as both a sauce and a vegetable side.

Last time I was at the SeeWee, an old-school seafood restaurant outside Charleston, I had an incredibly good plate of grilled grouper with fresh tomato salsa. Not only was the fish superfresh and perfectly cooked, but the salsa, a rough mix of vine-ripe tomatoes, white onion, and cilantro, was so simple and bright that it enhanced the flavor of the fish perfectly without overpowering it. I was so fond of it that I’ve been re-creating it at home ever since. It’s just the sort of light, fresh supper you want in the dead of summer.

I make these sweet and savory tarts all year round as a first course or served with a salad as a light lunch. The onions take on a lovely blushing red color when they caramelize. Shake it up with a SAZERAC (see page 28)

My initial exposure to French cuisine was during my first trip to Europe. It was long before I would eat in any three-star restaurants, and that exposure—the best I could have asked for—came from sitting in cafés. I was a wide-eyed twenty-three-year-old (and I was told by a waiter not to practice my high school French on him). I remember beautiful, colorful plates of vegetables going past me. I soon learned it was the classic French presentation of crudités, an assortment of three or four salads served together. It was fresh, affordable, and very appetizing, and it was served all over the city. Once in a while I’ll run this as a special in my restaurant; then I’ll forget about it until I crave it again. Any one of these salads can stand on its own, but if you put them all together they make for an extraordinary meal. Marinated Lentil Salad with Creamy Goat Cheese and Ripe Tomatoes (p. 113) would be a welcome addition to the mix.

The first time I passed through London—long before I started cooking—I figured out that some of the best food was to be found in the ubiquitous Indian restaurants. Fortunately for my traveler’s budget, it was also the cheapest! One of my favorite discoveries was an onion bhaji, a cluster of fried onion slices bound with a spicy, aromatic batter. The flavors stayed in my memory for a long time, and after much research, I came up with this recipe. The batter is made from high-protein chickpea flour (also called besan or gram flour at Indian markets), which gives it a rich flavor. At Bayona we serve bhajis with seared scallops and carrot-cardamom sauce, but they are awfully good by themselves for snacking, with a drizzle of cilantro-spiked yogurt or your favorite chutney.

We first developed this recipe as a side for a vegetarian dish we were serving at Bayona. We wanted to create the traditional smoky pork flavor of southern greens without using pork. That’s when we thought about smoking the onions. The smokiness imparts a tremendously satisfying and “meaty” flavor, but if you want to prepare this dish in the real southern way, don’t hesitate to throw some bacon, ham, or salt pork in the pot. Also, we tend to cook ours a little drier (mainly for presentation, so it plates up neater), so if you want more pot liquor, add more water early on.

Though we have a cabinet-style smoker at the restaurant, you can do the same thing at home with a domed barbecue grill or smoker. Get your chips going, then fill the drip pan with ice. Lay the veggies out on the grill, close the cover, and let it smoke. The smaller vegetables like mushrooms need less time. Check them periodically and take them off when they look and smell ready.