Smoke and Pickles

by Edward Lee

  Every year, the Southern Foodways Alliance holds a symposium in Oxford, Mississippi. It is an intimate gathering where anonymity is not allowed, but neither is scrutiny. Oxford is a place very different from the frenetic city I grew up in. Its pace is intentionally slower, and every step that much more meaningful. My first trip to the symposium was in 2005. I walked around with a name tag and a whiskey flush the whole weekend.

  Oxford is a place to catch your breath. When you pull into the town square, it feels like home, even on your first visit. John T. Edge is the director of the Southern Foodways Alliance. Through him, I have met all of the great chefs of the South (and even some of the not-so-great ones), too many to name. I have stories with them all, with Linton and Sean and Ashley and Mike and Andrea and Tyler and Hugh and Currence and Angie . . . I collect these stories like tiles in a mosaic. But, unlike the fleeting murals of spray paint or even the fading memories of my childhood, and unlike the cult of celebrity, I want these stories to have permanence. I want to hoard them but at the same time ensure that they will live on forever. I want them to exist in a place insulated from the noise of artifice but at the same time to remain relevant. It is a contradiction, I know.

  It feels like everything in the food world happens at a breakneck pace now. If there’s something groundbreaking going on in a village in Spain, it will make the news in Louisville. The world is condensed to 140 characters and a DVR menu of cooking shows. Kitchens are full of good-looking young chefs with expensive Japanese knives. We can take a carrot, dis­assemble it, and reassemble it so it tastes like, well, a carrot. We can try things and eat things from every corner of the earth, and we react with a jaded ambivalence. Scrutiny has never been more public, more microscopic, more aggressive. Cooking as a sport is here to stay; poets and painters be damned. This is the generation belonging to chefs. And there is the next thing, always the next big thing just waiting to be discovered or manufactured for our consumption. I am frequently asked to predict what this will be. I have no answers, but I have faith that Oxford, Mississippi, will always be there. Indeed, its legend only grows.

  Rice Bowl with Tuna, Avocado, Pork Rinds, and Jalapeño Rémoulade

  I’ll put pork rinds on just about everything. The great thing is that although they aren’t a gourmet ingredient—you can find pork rinds at most gas station convenience stores—they add flavor and depth to almost any dish. It makes me think, “What other culinary secrets are truck drivers hiding?” Of course, you can make your own pork rinds too, in the form of cracklin’ (see page 109), but I’m not a pork rind snob. I like ’em all. / Feeds 4 as a main course or 6 as an appetizer

  Jalapeño Rémoulade

  ¼ cup Perfect Rémoulade (page 6)

  2 jalapeño peppers, seeded and finely diced

  Topping

  8 ounces sushi-grade tuna

  1½ teaspoons Asian sesame oil

  ¼ cup coarsely chopped hearts of palm

  1 avocado, halved, pitted, peeled, and diced

  1 small romaine lettuce heart, coarsely chopped

  4 cups cooked rice (see page 4)

  Garnish

  1½ ounces pork rinds

  1 tablespoon black sesame seeds

  1To make the jalapeño rémoulade: Mix the rémoulade with the jalapeño peppers in a small bowl. Reserve.

  2Dice the raw tuna into ½-inch cubes. Transfer to a medium bowl and toss with ½ teaspoon of the sesame oil. Add the hearts of palm, avocado, and romaine lettuce to another medium bowl and drizzle with the remaining sesame oil. Refrigerate both bowls.

  3To serve, scoop the rice into your rice bowls. Spoon a little romaine lettuce and avocado on top of the rice on one side of the bowl. Next add a little bit of the pork rinds, some sesame seeds, and the hearts of palm on the other side of the bowl. Dollop the tuna over everything. Dollop about a tablespoon of the rémoulade over the tuna in each bowl and serve immediately with spoons. It is best to mix everything together before enjoying.

  Rice Bowl with Salmon, Endive, Shiitake, and Tasso Rémoulade

  Tasso is the famous spice-cured pork shoulder from Louisiana. It has a very distinctive cayenne-pepper-and-smoke flavor. If you can’t find tasso, use any cured ham and add a pinch of cayenne and a few turns of freshly ground black pepper to the mix. / Feeds 4 as a main course or 6 as an appetizer

  Tasso Rémoulade

  ½ teaspoon olive oil

  4 ounces tasso ham (or any other aged ham, such as prosciutto), very finely diced

  5 teaspoons Perfect Rémoulade (page 6)

  Marinade

  2 tablespoons soy sauce

  2 teaspoons fresh lemon juice

  1 teaspoon sugar

  2 teaspoons grated fresh ginger (use a Microplane)

  Topping

  8 ounces skinless salmon fillet, cut into 1-inch pieces

  2 teaspoons olive oil

  1½ ounces shiitake mushroom caps, sliced

  1 teaspoon soy sauce

  4 cups cooked rice (see page 4)

  Garnish

  1 large endive, sliced lengthwise into thin spears

  1 ounce dried mango, sliced into very thin strips

  1To make the tasso rémoulade: Heat the olive oil in a small sauté pan over medium heat. Add the tasso ham and sauté until crispy, about 3 minutes. Drain on paper towels and let cool.

  2Mix the rémoulade with the tasso ham in a small bowl. Reserve.

  3To make the marinade: Combine all the ingredients in a small bowl.

  4To make the topping: Toss the salmon into the marinade, turning to coat, and marinate in the refrigerator for 15 to 20 minutes. Drain the salmon and discard the marinade. Pat the salmon dry on paper towels. Heat a 10-inch skillet over medium-high heat. Add 1 teaspoon of the olive oil, then add the salmon and sauté for 3 to 4 minutes, until nicely caramelized but still pink on the inside. Press it gently—the flesh should bounce back but not flake apart. Transfer the salmon to a warm plate.

  5Add the remaining teaspoon olive oil to the pan and heat over medium heat. Add the shiitake mushrooms and soy sauce and cook for 4 to 5 minutes, until the mushrooms are wilted and caramelized.

  6To serve, scoop the rice into your rice bowls. Place the salmon and the shiitakes over the rice. Spoon about a tablespoon of the rémoulade over the salmon in each bowl. Garnish with a few spears of endive and a sprinkle of dried mango and serve immediately with spoons. It is best to mix everything together before enjoying.

  Poached Grouper in Egg-Drop Miso Broth

  Whenever I’m in Florida, I eat as much grouper as I can. It’s a fish that seems to go on and off of the trendy-menu radar, but for me it’s always a favorite. If you find grouper that is fresh, poaching it, rather than frying or baking, gives it a tenderness that you can’t achieve otherwise. / Feeds 4

  Broth

  6 cups water

  2 pieces kombu, each about the size of a strip of bacon (see note)

  1 cup packed bonito flakes

  3 tablespoons white miso

  7 teaspoons soy sauce

  Juice of 1 lemon

  6 ounces oyster mushrooms, cleaned

  8 asparagus spears

  1 zucchini

  1 sweet potato

  2 large eggs, preferably organic

  4 dried apricots, thinly sliced

  8 ounces skinless grouper fillet, thinly sliced

  Garnish

  1 scallion, finely chopped

  1 teaspoon toasted sesame seeds

  1To make the broth: Combine the water and kombu in a small pot and bring to a boil. Simmer for 5 minutes, then turn off the heat. Add the bonito flakes and let steep for 15 minutes.

  2Meanwhile, prepare the vegetables: Trim and slice the oyster mushrooms and place them in a medium bowl.

  3Hold each asparagus spear against a flat surface and run a vegetable pe
eler down the length of the stalk to peel off paper-thin ribbons: Hold the asparagus at the base and start the peeler about 2 inches above; discard the bottom of the stalk. Add to the bowl with the mushrooms.

  4Cut the zucchini lengthwise in half. Using the same method as for the asparagus, make thin ribbons of zucchini and place in the bowl. Discard the ends of the zucchini.

  5With a chef’s knife, trim the sweet potato to a rectangle about 1 inch by 1 inch and about 3 inches long (it should look like half a stick of butter). Cut it in half and, using the same method as above, make thin ribbons of sweet potato. Add to the bowl and toss all the vegetables together.

  6Strain the broth into a bowl; discard the solids. Wipe out the pot and return the broth to the pot. Add the miso, soy sauce, and lemon juice and bring to a simmer over low heat. Add the vegetables to the broth and simmer for 3 minutes. Quickly add the eggs, whisking gently and slowly; the eggs will look like webs dancing underwater. Add the dried apricots.

  7Turn the heat off, add the grouper slices, and poach the fish for 3 minutes, no more. Ladle the broth, vegetables, and grouper into warmed bowls. Sprinkle with the scallions and sesame seeds and serve immediately.

  Kombu is dried kelp, mostly harvested off the Japanese island of Hokkaido. It is used, along with bonito flakes, to make dashi, an essential stock used as a base for Asian soups and stews. Kombu is often sold in cellophane bags and will keep indefinitely, as long as you store it wrapped in a cool, dry place.

  Warm Shrimp Salad with Lemongrass Crumbs

  I’m crazy about lemongrass. Use only the real thing: long, woody stalks with an aroma that is tantalizing and elusive. A lot of recipes call for cooking or steeping lemongrass to infuse its essence into a liquid. I find that that process mutes its brightness and intensity, which is what I love about it. I use only the hearts, about 2 inches of the inner part closest to the stem. Keep peeling it until you reach the part that has a smooth surface—that’s the only part to use for cooking. The rest makes a nice tea for a relaxing evening. / Feeds 4 as an appetizer

  Lemongrass Crumbs

  3 ounces Lardo Cornbread (page 208), crumbled (¼ cup)

  1 stalk lemongrass, trimmed to inner heart and grated on a Microplane (1 teaspoon)

  1 tablespoon olive oil

  12 ounces large shrimp (21 to 25 count), peeled and deveined

  1 cup chopped seedless cucumbers

  1 poblano pepper, diced

  One 8-ounce can water chestnuts, drained, rinsed, and finely chopped

  2 teaspoons fresh lemon juice

  1 teaspoon soy sauce

  Splash of fish sauce

  ¼ teaspoon cayenne pepper

  9 stalks lemongrass, trimmed to inner heart and grated on a Microplane (3 tablespoons)

  1 teaspoon chopped fresh mint

  Salt and freshly ground black pepper to taste

  1Preheat the oven to 425°F.

  2To make the lemongrass crumbs: Spread the cornbread on a baking sheet and bake for 15 minutes, or until the crumbs are toasted and crunchy. Allow to cool, then add the grated lemongrass and mix well. The lemongrass will perfume your hands. Store in an airtight container until ready to use.

  3Heat the olive oil in a 10-inch skillet over medium heat. Add the shrimp and sauté for 2 minutes, or until they begin to turn opaque. Add the cucumbers, poblano peppers, and water chestnuts and cook for 3 minutes. Add the lemon juice, soy sauce, and fish sauce and simmer to reduce for a minute. Take the pan off the heat and add the cayenne pepper, lemon­grass, mint, and salt and pepper to taste.

  4Spoon the shrimp onto four plates. Sprinkle the lemongrass crumbs over the shrimp and serve immediately.

  If you don’t want to make the cornbread for the crumb mixture yourself, you can use store-bought cornbread; just be sure to find one that has no added sugar. True cornbread does not have sugar in it. Sugar makes it taste like a corn muffin.

  Quick-Sautéed Squid and Bacon Salad with Grated Ginger and Apple

  There’s a lot going on in this salad, but it’s all very well balanced. Squid has a wonderful texture when it is sautéed quickly, but it can get rubbery very fast, so watch the timing carefully. It is almost still raw, just a little warmed up—kiss it on the heat, as we chefs like to say. Squid can be bland, though, so it needs a strong supporting cast. Bacon is always good for that, and the combination of fresh ginger and raw apple adds a spicy tart note that brightens up the entire dish. Serve with a Riesling. / Feeds 4

  Tahini Vinaigrette

  2 tablespoons tahini

  2 tablespoons Asian sesame oil

  3 tablespoons water

  1 tablespoon sherry vinegar

  1 tablespoon fresh lemon juice

  Salt and freshly ground black pepper

  8 ounces bacon, cut into ½-inch-wide strips

  8 cleaned squid, sliced into thin rings (see note)

  1 teaspoon soy sauce

  ½ teaspoon fresh lemon juice

  ¼ teaspoon sea salt

  Dash of freshly ground black pepper

  Garnish

  1 Granny Smith apple

  2 teaspoons grated fresh ginger (use a Microplane)

  1 bunch arugula

  1To make the vinaigrette: Combine the tahini, sesame oil, water, vinegar, and lemon juice in a blender and blend on high until well combined. Season with salt and pepper to taste. Transfer to a jar or small bowl.

  2Heat a large 10-inch skillet over medium heat. Add the bacon and sauté for 5 minutes, or until it is slightly crispy and most of the fat has rendered out. Transfer to a paper towel to drain, then transfer to a bowl.

  3Remove all but 2 teaspoons of the bacon fat from the skillet. Heat the remaining fat over medium-high heat. Add the squid and sauté, stirring constantly, for 2 minutes. Add the soy sauce, lemon juice, salt, and pepper and sauté for another minute, then immediately remove the squid from the pan and add to the bacon.

  4Using a Microplane, grate about half of the Granny Smith apple into a bowl, avoiding the core. Mix 2 tablespoons of the grated apple with the grated ginger. (I make this toward the end so that the freshly grated apple doesn’t oxidize and turn brown.)

  5To serve, place a small bunch of arugula in the bottom of each of four shallow bowls. Place the squid mix over the arugula. Spoon about a tablespoon of the tahini vinaigrette over the squid in each bowl, spoon a little of the apple-ginger mixture over the squid, and serve immediately.

  Make sure your squid is super-fresh. Don’t buy frozen. The trick here is to cook the squid hot and fast. Longer cooking will cause the squid to turn rubbery, so make sure all your ingredients and plates are ready to go before you heat up the pan.

  Frog’s Legs with Celery, Chile Pepper, Fish Sauce, and Brown Butter

  I used to live near Chinatown in New York City, and the frog’s legs I’d get there were cheap and plump. People always joke that they taste like chicken, but they don’t really. They have a poultry-like texture with a faint aquatic aroma that is a tasty union of land and sea. In the same spirit, here’s a wonderful union of a classic French technique of cooking frog’s legs in brown butter merged with my love for Southeast Asian fish sauce.

  If you can get your hands on some of Robert Sinskey’s Vin Gris of Pinot Noir rosé, it is a stellar pairing with this dish. / Feeds 4 as an appetizer

  8 ounces frog’s legs (see note)

  2 tablespoons unsalted butter

  1 tablespoon dry white wine

  ½ teaspoon red pepper flakes

  ¼ teaspoon fish sauce

  ¼ teaspoon rice vinegar

  ½ teaspoon sea salt

  ¼ teaspoon freshly ground black pepper

  Garnish

  Leaves from 2 celery hearts

  A small handful of baby tat-soi or watercress leaves

  2 ounces snow peas, cut dia
gonally into thin julienne

  1Using kitchen shears, cut the legs at the joints and discard the feet if they came attached.

  2In a large skillet, melt the butter over high heat and, stirring constantly, allow the butter to brown slightly, 3 to 4 minutes. The butter will take on a nutty aroma. Turn the heat down to medium and add the frog’s legs. Brown for 2 minutes on each side. Add the white wine, red pepper flakes, fish sauce, vinegar, salt, and pepper in quick succession. Sauté for 2 minutes, then turn off the heat.

  3Add the celery leaves, tat-soi leaves, and snow peas to the frog’s legs and toss gently. Serve immediately.

  Finding frog’s legs takes a little patience. If you live in the South and you know a friend who is adept at frog gigging, then you are in luck, but that is probably unlikely. Otherwise, you can ask a fishmonger to order frog’s legs for you. Most likely they will come frozen and skinless, but that’s okay—they freeze well. Drain them thoroughly and dry with paper towels before cooking.

  Fried Trout Sandwiches with Pear-Ginger-Cilantro Slaw and Spicy Mayo

  This is my take on the famous Vietnamese banh-mi sandwich. Traditionally banh-mi is made with pork; this lighter version made with trout is fresh and crunchy. Brown and rainbow trout are the most prevalent varieties I find along the Kentucky-Tennessee waterways, where fly-fishing has a long history. You can make this dish with any trout that’s found near you. When fresh, trout has a clean, nutty flavor and the meat is meltingly tender.