What We Do on September Saturdays

I want to start out being perfectly clear about one thing.  I am a Georgia Bulldog fan first and foremost, through and through.  I didn't spend 4 years in Athens, 3 of them shared with Herschel Walker, witness to a national championship season for nothing.  No matter HOW BAD the season gets, I am still a fan.  Even if the unimaginable happened and the Bulldogs lost their first 3 conference games, I'd still be a fan--not that THAT would ever happen!

But these days, my September Saturdays (and October and November) are mostly spent in the Loveliest Village on the Plains.  And I don't really mind so much.  I was raised by an Auburn man, married an Auburn man, and am currently helping put an Auburn man through college, so I have many parts of my heart that linger there already.  My dad never liked the crowds much at football games, but I can remember raking leaves alongside him on crisp fall Saturdays, a transistor radio at his side listening to an Auburn football game.  I remember him explaining to me the difficult SEC puzzlement of how a team can claim to be "the Tigers" and have a battle cry of "War Eagle."  And when it came time for me to choose a college, I was 99% committed to UGA, but I had my SAT scores sent to Auburn just because.  So I can with a clear conscience don my best orange and navy garb and cheer wildly for the Auburn Tigers for 11 out of 12 games each year.  (I do make sure Paul and any other Auburn fan who will listen know that human beings would never willingly put those colors together in their wardrobe were it not for college football, unlike the pleasing combination of red and black.)

What would college football be without tailgating, the lovely tradition that turns a college campus into a sea of folding tables, decorated in orange and blue and spread with the most amazing tableaus of edible wonders? Folks load up their SUVs and trucks and trailers and haul their grills and smokers, generators, big screen TVs, tents and chairs and coolers and make a full day of feasting and fellowship as important a part of the festivities as what happens on the field.  Well, no matter how good the pork spareribs are, it won't really ease the blow of a stinging loss to an able opponent, but it will blunt the pain a tiny bit!  So the food is important.  It needs to be tasty, easy to eat from your lap while sitting in a folding chair, and there needs to be lots of it.  One never knows how many friends may drop by for a little visiting, prognosticating and noshing.  (Let's be honest, there's a little drinking in the mix, too.)

Here is my menu from this past Saturday, where the food was good, the company was great and the 35-27 win over South Carolina was icing on the proverbial cake.  (We like to see Steve Spurrier toss his visor in disgust--another proud SEC tradition!)

Menu
Brie and Grana Padana Cheeses with Mini Bread Toasts
Seedless Black Grapes
Mixed Nuts
Grilled Chicken Wings (recipe follows)
Grilled Conecuh Sausage
Homemade Pickle Relish
Potato Salad with Sour Cream and Dill
(recipe follows)
Orzo and Veggie Salad
Zapps Potato Chips
Chocolate Chunk Cookies

Grilled Chicken Wings

4 pounds chicken wings

1 teaspoon kosher salt

1/4 teaspoon smoked kosher salt (optional)

1/2 teaspoon paprika

1/2 teaspoon fresh ground pepper

1/2 teaspoon cayenne pepper

1/2 bottle Frank's Red Hot Buffalo Wing Sauce

1.  If wings are whole, separate the drumette and remove and discard wing tip.

2.  Mix together kosher salt, smoked salt, paprika, ground pepper and cayenne pepper.

3.  Toss chicken wings and drumettes with salt mixture.

4.  Put wings in a large plastic bag and pour in the wing sauce.  I double bag this because wings have sharp edges and a cooler mixed with chicken juice and hot sauce would not make for happy tailgating.  

5.  Refrigerate or pack in cooler until ready to grill.

6.  Grill over hot coals or gas grill until meat is tender, skin is brown and meat starts to separate from the bone. 

7.  Can serve with blue cheese dressing, but make sure you put your "refrigerate only" bottle of dressing in the cooler and not in the sack with the non-perishables.  I speak from very recent experience!

Potato Salad with Sour Cream and Dill
2 pounds small red skin potatoes (the smallest you can find)
1/2 cup sour cream
1/2 cup mayonnaise
2 tablespoons chopped fresh dill weed
3 green onions, finely chopped (save some of the dark green part for garnish)
1 teaspoon kosher salt
fresh ground pepper to taste

1.  Cut smallest potatoes in half and large potatoes in quarters.  Boil until fork tender but not pulpy.  Drain well.

2.  Mix together sour cream, mayonnaise, dill weed, green onions, salt and pepper.

3.  Put potatoes in a medium bowl and pour dressing over the potatoes. Toss lightly without breaking potatoes.

4.  Sprinkle with reserved dark green onion slices for garnish.

Let Them Eat Cake!

Okay, 'fess up!  Cake or pie?  Cookie or cobbler? Pudding or pastry?  Or some other decadent dessert?  Whether I'm playing in the kitchen or taking a peek at the dessert menu of a favorite restaurant, I am bound to gravitate toward cake.  Not just any cake. GOOD cake. Moist and flavorful cake. Preferably cake with frosting. So let's talk about frosting at the outset. Remember the saying, "Always a bridesmaid, never a bride?"  I was occasionally a bridesmaid, but more likely to be the one who served wedding cake!  Do you know what happens to the knife after you have served 5 or 6 pieces of wedding cake?  A "scum" of sorts builds up on the knife, an intriguing mixture of cake crumbs and frosting residue. Well, I'm the gal who's going to drag her finger across the flat side of the knife, making sure not one morsel of scum goes to waste.  Oh, I'll wait until no one's looking, but sure as shootin' that frosting is going to be mine!

When I'm not scarfing down the remnants of a good cake, I greatly enjoy the craft of baking, sifting lightness into the dry ingredients, combining softened butter and sugar, so distinctly different in color and texture, yet merging into a silky, creamy mass.  Hearing each egg plop into the batter, dragging a sunny golden trail behind as it slowly disappears. Adding alternating scoops of flour and milk, beginning and ending with the flour, creating a billowy voluminous batter. Cutting wax paper to fit the pans, taking a pat of silky softened butter and rubbing it delicately around the pan and gently sliding the wax paper into place. Walking gingerly around the kitchen to protect precious layers incubating in the oven as the aroma begins to permeate the house.  Preparing the frosting, assembling the layers and using an offset spatula to swish and swirl the frosting decoratively over the layers and around the cake. Standing back and admiring my work, some strange part of me wishing never to cut into and disturb what I have created--at the same time, crazy to grab a knife and fork and dive in RIGHT NOW!

I began to experiment in earnest in the kitchen right out of college, shacked up with three of my best girlfriends from UGA.  I am foggy now on some of the details, but one of my roommates discovered a recipe (Craig Claiborne, I believe) for a genoise cake with coconut frosting, spongy layers laced with some kind of liqueur (I think we used whatever we had; I seem to remember drizzling the genoise with Bailey's Irish Cream.) I learned to make clarified butter while baking this cake and remember the distinct feeling of accomplishment  I had as I, yes, ADMIRED the completed product.  Part of the fun of baking a cake is the self congratulatory moment you experience when you wipe the last dregs of frosting from the cake plate and display it in a prominent location, hoping fervently someone will come through the kitchen soon and join you as you fixate on your accomplishment.

I have dogeared my recipe books over the years searching for the best cake recipes.  You can absolutely tell whether or not a recipe is successful by looking for the drips and stains on the page.  Obscure regional cookbooks have the very best tried and true desserts--cakes, cookies, pies--the kinds of things little grandmothers learned from their mothers and pass down from generation to generation.  And if you are ever served a really good cake by a friend or relative, GET THAT RECIPE IMMEDIATELY.  My Dixie Delights cookbook was a gift from my mother when she traveled to Memphis to visit my sister, oh, 20 years ago.  It was published by the St. Francis Hospital Auxiliary and gives me recipes for Red Velvet Cake (two cups of oil--what's not to love) and Italian Cream Cake (shoe leather would be good with cream cheese frosting.)  Blue Ribbon Carrot Cake came from my co-worker, Nelle, from the late eighties.  My cousin, Marybeth, shared her Caramel Pound Cake recipe, which is to die for.  My friend Jenny gave me a recipe for a Strawberry Cake I changed up with--you guessed it--cream cheese frosting laced with strawberry bits and juice.  A friend from church shared her oh-so-easy Pumpkin Cake recipe with me, a sheet cake I now make in layers with, again, cream cheese frosting.    My mother has mastered the Pound Cake in a way that keeps a constant stream of friends and relatives dropping by just in case there is a warm offering right out of the oven.  You have to be her beloved oldest daughter to get THAT recipe!  (Little sister has probably talked her out of it, too.)

Cakes are festive and seasonal!  I'd never bring my pumpkin cake to Easter lunch, but the Strawberry Cake is perfect.  Red Velvet Cake is ALWAYS a part of my Christmas repertoire.  And now that the cupcake craze has hit, most all my recipes can easily make a welcome appearance morphed into this latest culinary sensation.  But when you want to impress and give the impression you have been slaving over a hot stove and oven the better part of a day (you will have) the Chocolate Little Layer Cake is the way to go.  There is nothing LITTLE about it.  The layers are very thin, but there are twelve of them.  My husband nosed this recipe out of the New York Times, but according to the article, the cake originates from Martha Meadows, a home baker in southeast Alabama.

We were recently invited to be guests at friends' supper club, a dine-around group who meet to enjoy good food and generous libations several times a year progressive dinner style.  Given the opportunity to contribute to the dessert course, it seemed as good occasion as any to drag out the Chocolate Little Layer Cake recipe, which I did gladly and happily.  I have now made this cake three times and will give you the recipe as printed in the New York Times with italicized notes added that will help you jump up the learning curve for this particular cake.  As any cook/baker knows, every recipe has its idiosyncrasies that only practice will help you to conquer.  DON'T BE AFRAID!!  This cake has turned out beautifully every time I have made it, but with distinct vagaries that at times have left me a bit flummoxed.

Chocolate Little Layer Cake
Adapted from Martha Meadows, printed in the New York Times, December 16, 2009


FOR THE CAKE:
2 sticks butter, more to grease pans
2 -1/2 cup sugar
1/3 cup shortening
5 eggs
2 teaspoons vanilla
5 cups cake flour
1 teaspoon salt
2 teaspoons baking soda
5 teaspoons baking powder
2 cups milk

FOR THE ICING:
5 cups sugar
1/3 cup cocoa
1 stick butter, cut into pieces
1 15-ounce can evaporated milk (1-1/3 cups)
1/2 cup whole milk
2 teaspoons vanilla

1.  Preheat oven to 400 degrees.  Grease three 9-inch cake pans and line with rounds of parchment or waxed paper.
I begin with 12 rounds of waxed paper.  After the first batch of layers, there is no need to clean or add grease to the pans.  There will be plenty of residual to cook subsequent layers.  Just add your waxed paper to the already warm and greased pan and pour in your batter.

2.  In a mixer, cream together butter, sugar and shortening until fluffy, about 3 minutes.  Beat in eggs one at a time and continue to mix on medium until eggs are well incorporated.  Stir in vanilla.

3.  Sift flour, then add salt, baking soda and baking powder.  Sift a second time.  With mixer on low, alternately add flour mixture and milk in about 4 additions, then increase speed to medium.  Beat until smooth, about 4-5 minutes, scraping down sides of bowl.
Recipe calls for  one 15 ounce can of evaporated milk.  I found 12 ounce cans and 5 ounce cans, bought one of each and then measured milk to 1-1/3 cups.  This batter gets VERY thick, almost like a pound cake batter.  If you are using a hand mixer instead of a stand mixer, make sure you have a very powerful motor!  I burned out one hand mixer with this batter.  Traditionally cake mixing calls for beginning and ending with flour when you are adding the flour and milk, which is what I did.  

4.  Spread 3/4 cup batter in each pan.  Bake 6-8 minutes, or until cake springs lightly when pressed with a finger.  Flip cake out of pan onto paper towels or cake rack while still very warm.  Repeat with second set of layers.
The first time I made this cake, I ended up with only 11 layers.  It is hard to get the "3/4 cup" right because the batter is so thick, it clings to whatever you are using to pour it.  This last time I made it, for each three layers I baked, I filled my two cup measuring "pitcher" with a heaping amount of the batter, enough to equal about 2-1/4 cups, and used the little pitcher to divide the batter evenly between 3 pans.  This was a great help!

5.  When first layers go into oven, start to make icing.  Put sugar and cocoa in a deep, heavy bottomed saucepan and mix well.  Turn heat to medium-high and add butter and milks, bringing to a boil.  Boil for about 4 minutes, stirring continually, careful to watch that it does not boil over.  Lower heat to simmer, add vanilla and stir occasionally for another 7 to 10 minutes.  If using a candy thermometer, cook to the point just before soft ball stage or about 230 degrees.

The icing is the trickiest part of this cake.  Indeed, make sure you have a LARGE DEEP saucepan as the icing just about triples in volume when it begins to boil.  It takes me longer than 4 minutes to get to 230 degrees.  The first time I made this, the icing turned out great.  The second time, it began to set up very quickly.  The last time I made it, it didn't seem to set up enough.  I completely frosted the cake, frosting dripping down the sides, and just left it for about an hour, went out for lunch and PRAYED FOR A MIRACLE, all the time trying to figure out how to start from scratch and make another in the time I had left before the event.  When I came back, it had started to set up enough that I could scrape up all the frosting that had run onto the plate, and finish frosting it.  It ended up being the prettiest cake I have made yet!

6.  Begin icing first layers, still warm, when second batch is in the oven.  Flip layers over so that top side faces up.  Use about 4 tablespoons of icing per layer.  Icing will be thin but will firm up as it cools.  Stack layers, then continue icing and stacking as layers are baked.

Starting at about the 4th layer, the cake will begin to get a bit catawampus.  I have found it helpful to press firmly and evenly with both hands on top of each layer after you put it in place, starting at about the 4th or 5th layer.  This helps to flatten out and even up the layers as you go.

This layer cracked when I picked it up.
But no worries, the icing will hold it together!

7.  When all layers are iced and stacked, glaze top and sides of cake.  Contours of layers will be visible through icing.  If icing hardens too much while frosting cake, set back on low heat and stir until it is spreadable.

The first time I made this cake I had JUST enough icing.  The second time it was very thick and I almost ran out.  The third time I had about 1/2 cup left over.  GO FIGURE!!  It is much better to have icing left over, though, because eating it out of the bowl with a spoon is an extremely pleasurable benefit of baking this cake.

Perspective

Paul and I are spending a few days of rest and relaxation at Orange Beach this week, breathing in the crisp and clean gulf air, shuffling our feet through the sand, counting the Dolphins frolicking just offshore and gorging ourselves on fresh gulf seafood.  Cooking has not been a priority this week.  We have a number of favorite "haunts" along this stretch of beach, so our goal has been to eat an early, light breakfast each day that will afford us the opportunity to be HUNGRY in time for a not-too-late lunch so we can squeeze in a third meal for dinner and digest it all in time to get a good night's sleep.  In general, this is the way we travel.  It would be a pity to manage our time so as to eat only twice a day.  This puts a bit of a burden on me, because an early riser I am not.  I so love to eke out those last lovely minutes, or hours, as the sun rises higher into the sky, having become so completely one with my bed it becomes burdensome to extricate myself. But I make the sacrifice for a greater cause (again, three square meals) and roll myself out of bed in time to accomplish our culinary goals.

Cereal and fruit are our friends!  A light but filling breakfast guaranteed to wear off in about three hours without fail.  Obviously there will be no recipe forthcoming in this post, but I do have a secret I have learned about cereal.  I share this "secret" freely with anyone who will listen, those who are tired of hearing and the one who as recently as this morning arched his eyebrows tolerantly and somewhat fondly as I again demonstrated my technique.  I admit my attempts to proselytize have been largely unsuccessful in my small realm of influence.  Quite truthfully, they have been completely 100% unsuccessful.  I cannot brag here about one single convert I have made, in spite of diligent effort.  But perhaps some of you who find your way to this blog from time to time may change all that.  Perhaps you, reading right this minute, may be the first to hear this suggestion and realize the obvious wisdom it holds to rectify a serious issue you have been navigating for years.  Do not all of us who are crunchy morning eaters encounter the dilemma of soggy cereal?  How disappointing it is to pull out your customary bowl, open a fresh box of your fiber-filled favorite, pour it into the bowl and cover with milk only to find within minutes it is too soggy to enjoy.  Wouldn't your mornings, ergo your whole day, be happier if you could alleviate this minor "gnat bite?"

Here is the fix, guaranteed to work every time.  Put the milk in the bowl FIRST and then shake your cereal gently over the milk so that it mostly floats on top.  Then dip your spoon in from the side so as to submerge the cereal as you go.  Voila!  Soggy cereal eliminated!  Morning bliss accomplished.  Life is good!

Ah, it is as if I can see right through my computer into the faces of my readers. You are rolling your eyes a bit, perhaps tolerantly, perhaps fondly. But if only you would try it. If only you could see from my perspective how entirely practical this suggestion is, and I am nothing if not practical.

Perspective.  How it can vary from day to day, situation to situation, person to person.  I know from time to time mine needs tweaking.  As much as I would protest and claim otherwise, I am often in great danger of believing I am the axis upon which the world revolves.  I would never articulate this as my worldview nor rationally profess it to be true.  But my actions (sometimes) bely my protestations!  Here in this place, close to the pounding surf whose persistent tune can drown out the usual theme songs I play, I am able to reclaim an important reality.  God is still present, still in control and ever so much Greater and Other and Able.  My need to orchestrate and control is a figment of my imagination, fueled by pop psychology and my own insecurities.  God's wisdom gives structure and boundaries and a "grid" for living.  But within those outer limits are so many possibilities, limited only by my narrowed vision.  In this place, looking out into that which seems infinite, my peripheral vision expands in a way that is freeing to me and I believe pleasing to God.

It is that God-expanded vision I will take back with me into the everyday.  I am grateful for time away, the beauty of creation, and the ability God gives to re-orient ourselves around Him when we have become mired in the familiar.  I take with me this reminder: the breath of God is a life-giving force hovering in and over and around, never farther away than a whisper, always as close as a prayer. 

A Tale of Two Pestos

Ah, basil--so green and lovely and abundant this time of year.  Fresh basil pesto, simple to make with so many uses, is worth its weight in gold.  And ounce for ounce, a little pesto will go a long way.  Making pesto is easy as can be.  I can never remember the exact proportions of the magic ingredients--basil, pine nuts, garlic, Parmesan cheese and olive oil, but my somewhat battered copy of The Joy of Cooking will give me the answer every time.

So pardon me now if I take a moment to wax poetic about this iconic cookbook.  In continuous publication since 1936, The Joy of Cooking was chosen by The New York Public Library as one of the "150 most important and influential books of the twentieth century."  The author, Irma Rombauer, used her life savings to self-publish the first book by this name in 1931 in an effort to support her family after her husband's suicide.  Her daughter, Marion, tested the recipes and made the illustrations and the two sold their mother-daughter project from Irma's apartment. The book was picked up by a commercial printing house in 1936 and, with a number of revisions, has been in constant publication since.  I own both the 1997 revision and the 75th anniversary edition and use both.  It is my go-to source for many basic need-to-know kitchen preparation guidelines.  For basic sauces, salad dressings, the BEST homemade brownies and a plethora of other recipes, I go to JOY even more than GOOGLE.  I know any recipe I find in Irma's encyclopedia is tested and tried and true.  Anybody can publish a recipe on the internet--just look at me! I find many, many good and thorough recipes on the internet, but a Google search will never, ever replace my Joy of Cooking.  (Click here to get your very own copy or check your favorite used book store.)

Meanwhile, back in the kitchen with an abundance of basil, it is time to make pesto. I like to make both a basic basil pesto and a sun-dried tomato version.  It is difficult to use all the pesto you make right away, so I freeze it in a plastic ice cube tray.  When frozen, I empty the pesto cubes into a plastic bag, carefully label and store in the freezer until I'm ready to use.  The cubes thaw almost instantly and can be used in salad dressings, as a marinade for chicken, tossed with pasta or veggies or used as a sauce for your next homemade pizza (try sun-dried tomato pesto, crumbled goat cheese and spinach for a tasty pie.)  It is inordinately tasty on anything you put on the grill.  With pesto in your freezer you will be enjoying the taste of summer for weeks to come.

Basic Basil Pesto

(Joy of Cooking version)

2 cups loosely packed fresh basil leaves

1/3 cup pine nuts

2 medium cloves garlic, peeled

1/2 cup freshly grated Parmesan cheese (not the kind in the green container)

1/2 cup extra virgin olive oil

salt and ground black pepper to taste

1.  Process the basil, pine nuts, garlic and cheese in a food processor until it forms a rough paste.

2.  With the machine running, slowly pour the oil through the feed tube.  It should form a thick paste.  If it seems dry, add a little more olive oil.  Add salt and pepper to taste.

3.  Use immediately, store in a glass jar in the refrigerator for up to a week or freeze in ice cubes.

Sun-Dried Tomato Pesto

(modified from Joy of Cooking)

1/3 cup sun-dried tomatoes (dry or water packed--NOT packed in oil)

2 cloves garlic, peeled

6 fresh basil leaves PLUS 1 cup packed basil leaves

1/4 cup extra-virgin olive oil

1/3 cup freshly grated Parmesan cheese

salt and ground pepper to taste

1.  Combine the sun-dried tomatoes, 1 clove garlic and 6 basil leaves in a small saucepan with enough water to cover.  Bring to a boil, remove from the heat and let stand for 20 minutes.  

2.  Combine the 1 cup basil leaves, 1 clove garlic, olive oil and Parmesan cheese in a food processor to form a rough paste.

3.  Drain the tomato mixture and add to the processor.  Finely chop and season with salt and pepper to taste.

I would love to hear your favorite ways to use pesto, so please feel free to leave your comments here. Some of you mentioned having a problem with the comment function on this blog.  I think I have changed the setting to make posting comments more user friendly.  Let me know!

A Hint of Things to Come

As soon as we opened the front door Saturday morning, we knew something was different.  We certainly COULD have imagined it. After all, the television was already tuned to ESPN in anticipation of College Game Day.  Did it feel like autumn because we wanted it so badly? Like two tentative groundhogs, we poked our noses outside, sniffing the air, peering eagerly up and down the street, out toward the bay.  Indeed, it seemed fall had presented her winsome self ahead of schedule, taunting us with her characteristic flirt and flounce.  It would be untrue if I told you there was a chill in the air.  Of course it was still warm--but NOT oppressive. The sky was more blue, the air less humid, the breeze a tiny bit more persistent.  We would not be so silly as to think she was here for good.  In the coastal South, autumn plays hide and seek for weeks, appearing with more regularity as we move into late September and early October.  Without question, there will be more days of stifling heat and heavy humidity. But for that day, we breathed deeply and lived in the present, all the while anticipating that more days like this are just around the corner.

The first breath of fall reminds me of the things I cook when the weather is cooler.  Big pots of things.  Veggies diced and chopped, sauteed and melded into soups and stews. Meats slowly braised in herbs and wine.  A homey pot of chili cooked all day, with the smell of warm cumin tantalizing our taste buds.  Chicken roasting with pungent cloves of garlic and fragrant flecks of rosemary.  Meaty roasts nestled among potatoes and carrots, slowly simmering as the juices are released. With just this kind of cooking in mind, I had tossed a bag of dried red beans into my cart at the market last week.  With the refrain of the College Game Day theme song providing appropriate background music ("We're coming to your city...") I popped the beans into a pot of water, brought the water to a boil for a couple of minutes and then set it aside for the beans to soften for an hour or so.  It was a red beans and rice kind of day.  Don't you agree?

Red beans and rice are ubiquitous in this part of the world.  Everyone has a recipe, probably handed down from a mother or grandmother.  A relative newcomer still, I snatched this recipe from a member of a Stephen Ministry Training Class many years ago.  Most every group I have ever been a part of in a church setting eventually ends up making food a part of the equation.  And things tend to get out of hand pretty quickly.  What begins as simple refreshments will eventually become a 3-4 course meal after a few weeks.  People love to linger at a table around food.  As soon as people begin to form a bond, they want to break bread together.  And as the sign up list is passed around and each person takes a turn, they want to offer hospitality by sharing their favorite dishes, their signature desserts, and quite often the warm comfort foods that will feed a crowd. What is a pastor to do?  Spoil the fun by urging them to keep their focus on the subject matter that brings them together?  I don't think so!!  God is present at those tables.  It is his love that softens hearts, opens minds, fosters peace and understanding, creates community.  I decided long ago just to pull up a chair, enjoy the fellowship and watch what God was doing, fill my plate and siphon off all the best recipes!

So on a late summer day with a hint of fall in the air, I pulled out Sandy's recipe for red beans and rice.  A good weekend was about to get a lot better!

Red Beans and Rice
(Serves 6-8 depending upon how hungry they are!)


1 lb. dried red beans, soaked overnight and drained
(or fast soaked as I did)
1 cup chopped onions
1/2 cup chopped bell pepper
1/2 cup chopped celery
1 tsp. salt
1/2 tsp. cayenne pepper
1/4 tsp. ground black pepper
1 tsp. dried thyme
1/2 tsp. dried oregano
1/2 tsp. dried basil
4 bay leaves
1/2 lb. cooked ham, diced
6 oz. smoked sausage, cut into 1/4 inch slices
3 Tbs. chopped garlic
1 Tbs. red wine vinegar
8-10 cups water
2-3 cups steamed or cooked rice

1.  Heat oil in a large heavy saucepan over medium high heat.  Saute the onions, bell pepper, celery, salt, cayenne, black pepper, thyme oregano and basil for about 5 minutes.

2.  Add the bay leaves, ham and sausage and saute for 5 minutes more.  I used Conecuh Cajun Sausage this time, and highly recommend it if you can find it.

3.  Add the beans, garlic, vinegar and enough water to cover the contents in the pot.  Bring to a boil.  Reduce the heat to medium and simmer, uncovered, stirring occasionally for about 2 hours.  Add more water if the mixture becomes dry and thick.

4.  Use a potato masher to mash about half of the mixture.  Continue to cook, stirring occasionally, for about 1-1/2 hours more, or until the mixture is creamy and the beans are soft.  Add more water if it becomes too thick.  The mixture should be soupy, but not watery.

5.  Remove the bay leaves and serve over cooked rice.

The Usual Suspects

Notes:  We also grilled the rest of the Conecuh sausage and served alongside the beans and rice.  Add a good salad, crusty bread or cornbread and an array of hot sauces and you've got a great fall meal.  The beans will keep for several days in the refrigerator and taste a little better each time you serve them!  Cooked rice refrigerates nicely in a plastic bag.  When you are ready for your leftovers, open the plastic bag and add a sprinkle of water.  With the bag open, microwave about 25 seconds at a time until the rice is hot.