Guest post: The Choate Family's Eggnog

Introducing Mr. Jack Choate of St. Simon's Island via Augusta, Georgia

Being roommates with an aspiring chef, and a good one at that, really pays off.  So when she asked me to do a Christmas season guest post, not only did I owe her for all those fantastic meals, but I felt like it was my duty to the good “celebrating” people of the interweb.  So here goes….

I also grew up in the South, and I remember that there always seemed to be some sort of beverage around all the major social occasions.  Christmas of course, was no exception.  I can’t tell you exactly when it came to occur, but every year once school was out for Christmas there were always two milk jugs in the fridge – one had milk for my Cocoa Krispies and one, with a more yellowish color, I wasn’t allowed to touch.  As I got older, I learned this was my mom’s famous eggnog and once I went off to college, it became MY famous eggnog.

I’m sure you have friends, who say, “Eggnog – GROSS!” I know I certainly do.  Whenever I heard that, I always thought back to those thank you notes that Santa Claus would leave especially noting how good the 'nog was and I wondered what the difference was.  Finally, I'd had enough, and got my Mom to give me the recipe.  I quickly learned the difference – it is not for the faint of heart and will definitely put some hair on your chest.

I’ve been making it and sharing it for the past 10 years, and once I crack that first egg and smell that first drop of brandy, I know its Christmas.

THE CHOATE FAMILY'S TOP SECRET EGGNOG
Source: Jack Choate

12 eggs separated – yokes in a mixing bowl for the Nog, whites in a separate container to be used for topping
1 pound powdered sugar
1 pint brandy
½ pint white rum
½ pint peach brandy
6 cups whole milk
2 cups of heavy cream

Mix the 12 yokes with the powdered sugar until you have a nice liquidy-paste – make sure to scrape the bottom of the mixing bowl with a spatula to make sure you get all of the powdered sugar and egg mixed together. Slowly add in the brandy, rum, and peach brandy. (This year for the first time, I combined all the liquor into one container beforehand and then poured them all in together, which was more efficient and didn’t adversely affect the taste.)

Let this mix together for a good two minutes or so and then slowly mix in the milk and the cream one after the other. If you have a Kitchen-Aid mixer this will fill up just an inch below the rim, so don’t worry. I let the mixture sit there and mix for about 5 minutes and then pour into a standard Gallon jug for refrigeration – it makes just under a gallon. Chill.

To serve, whip the egg whites and dallop on top. Garnish with freshly-grated nutmeg and enjoy!

Dixie Caviar note: this eggnog is truly the tastiest I've ever had. The peach brandy is a great little "secret" touch. Thanks for sharing, Jack, and I look forward to enjoying this for many holiday seasons to come!

Creamy Tomato Soup

In the Dozier house, tomato soup has always come from the can.  My dad used to slurp it down with a side of saltines on a fairly regular basis. Me, I ran far far away from the stuff.

I thought my Campbell's days were over once I fled Alabama; turns out, not even close. Walt lives and breathes for the processed kind, and I'm not going to lie, I dabble in the neon goodness every now-and-then, too. 

It was a revelation a few Christmas's ago when I discovered that tomato soup could actually be -- shock, gasp, screech -- homemade. (I've come a long way in the kitchen, can you tell?). The day my sister served that sweet, tangy, tomato-ey pot of goodness should be marked as some sort of culinary milestone in my life. I mean, homemade soup. Who knew.

A few years have passed since that fateful day, and many, many pots of soup have been made in this dixie kitchen. Here, my tomato soup builds on layers of flavors: carrots, onions, and garlic provide the aromatics, tomato paste ups the "tomato" anti, brown sugar mellows the acidity, and a splash of cream gives just the right silky mouth-feel. If you're feeling wild and crazy, a shot of sherry rounds it all out. 

Serve this with an ooey-gooey grilled cheese and you've got yourself a night. 

CREAMY TOMATO SOUP

Source: Nealey Dozier

1 tablespoon butter
1 onion, chopped
1 carrot, peeled and chopped
2 cloves garlic, minced
1 tablespoon flour
1 tablespoon tomato paste
2 (28 ounce) cans plum tomatoes, preferably San Marzano
1 cup chicken stock
2 tablespoons brown sugar
1 tablespoon sherry (optional)
Kosher salt and white pepper, to taste
Crème fraîche, for garnish
Fresh herbs, finely chopped, for garnish

Heat butter in a large dutch oven over medium heat. Add onions and carrots and sweat, 5 – 7 minutes. Add garlic and sauté for an additional 30 seconds. Add flour and tomato paste and mix until well-incorporated; saute about 1 minute (long enough to cook out the raw flour taste).

Add tomatoes with their juices, chicken broth, and salt. Bring to a boil. Reduce heat and simmer, approximately 30 minutes. Puree soup using an immersion blender and strain through a fine-mesh sieve (skip this step if you like a thicker soup). Return pot to medium-low heat. Add brown sugar and sherry. Season liberally with salt and white pepper.

Serve with a dallop of crème fraîche and freshly chopped herbs.

Kitchen tip: Have you discovered crème fraîche? If not, you should. It's a cultured cream, similar to sour cream but a bit milder. Most importantly, it's delicious. It's becoming more readily available at grocery stores everywhere, but it isn't exactly cheap. The good news -- it is so very easy to make at home! Check out the recipe from my friend Christine over at Literary Appetite.

First Assignment: Carrot Bread

You see, I'm in my first week of culinary school, and a world of deliciousness awaits me. My first assignment this past Sunday was to become the master of my Wustoff, a.k.a. knife skills 101. I chopped my way through the small dice, and dominated a julienne, and as a result was left with quite the pile of assorted veggies. Christine (my partner-in-kitchen-crime), over at Literary Appetite, solved the potato problem. The carrot situation however, was a little more daunting. You see, Walt despises cooked carrots. And I'm not too fond of them myself. Hmmm...what to make, what to make.  Hey I know, if you can put zucchini in bread, then why not carrots? 

 This recipe may well be the easiest recipe I've ever seen. Step 1 -- Mince (or grate) the carrots into oblivion. Step 2 -  throw all the ingredients in a bowl and mix. Step 3 - bake and enjoy.

Hey, whoever said you can't have your cake and veggies, too? 

CARROT BREAD
Source: Talk About Good, Junior League of Lafayette, MS

1 1/2 cups all-purpose flour
1 cup sugar
1/2 teaspoon baking powder
1/2 teaspoon baking soda
1/ 2 teaspoon salt
1 teaspoon cinnamon
1 teaspoon freshly-grated nutmeg
2 large eggs
2/3 cup canola oil
1 cup grated carrots
3/4 cup chopped pecans

Preheat oven to 350 degrees.

Mix all ingredients together. Bake in loaf pan for 1 hour (test after 45 minutes).

The 7 Rules of the Italian (and Southern) Kitchen

First and foremost, I apologize for the brief lull in activity for the past couple of weeks. Between a wedding weekend in Santa Barbara, a 26th birthday, and a weekend trip to San Francisco for the Outsidelands music festival, I have been one busy girl. Needless to say, I've been eating (but not so much cooking) up a storm. With football season upon us, however, that's about to change. I've got some incredible recipes waiting in the wings, just ready to help you celebrate the South's favorite pastime. So keep coming back here for some guaranteed-to-be-a-hit game day grub!

Until then, here are The 7 Rules of the Italian Kitchen, featured in this month's Bon Appetit. I feel these points apply just as strongly to the Southern kitchen (in mine, atleast), so I thought I would share them with you here.

1. PAY ATTENTION - What foods grow where you live?  When are they in season? In Italy, the kind of cooking that chooses the local over the exotics is faithful to the seasons and wastes nothing.

2. LOVE THE LEFTOVERS - Today's sauteed mushrooms are the beginnings of tomorrow's mushroom risotto. Just about anything can live happily in a frittata. And (of course) don't forget all of the things you can do with a pot of beans.

3. KEEP IT SIMPLE - Let the ingredients speak for themselves. Italians tend to be wary of overly complicated cooking. Almost any fresh seasonal vegetable -- sauteed in olive oil with a bit of garlic -- makes a delicious pasta sauce. If you really want to get fancy, sprinkle in a handful of basil leaves or some grated parmesan. But you don't even have to.

4. TASTE AND SAVOR - Italians love to talk about food (and never, by the way, about business) while they're eating. "Other great meals I have eaten" is a favorite topic of mealtime conversation. Granted, this is a bit like craving ice cream while your eating some, but at least they're treating their time at the table as the joyful activity it is. While you're talking, don't forget to savor what's on your plate.

5. COOK CREATIVELY - There is comfort in working with the most humble ingredients and pleasure in being resourceful with whatever is at hand. What can you do with the half loaf of rock-hard bread? Find a couple of tomatoes and a handful of basil and turn them into a Tuscan pappa al pomodoro (bread and tomato soup).

6. GROW SOMETHING - Give an Italian a few square feet of fertile soil and he or she is more likely to plant some tomatoes plants than a patch of lawn. If you have no garden of your own, look into community gardens, or put a few small terra-cotta pots in a sunny window and fill them with herbs.

7. PRACTICE GENEROSITY - Now, more than ever, we need to eat together. Whatever there is to eat, it's enough to go around. We come together at the table not because of what we do have, but despite what we don't.

Do you follow the same rules in your  kitchen? I would love to hear your examples!

Heirloom Tomato Pie

I was never much of a tomato person growing up. Actually, I loathed them. If one appeared on a sandwich before me, I would huff and puff and stick my nose in the air. "Who in their right mind?" I would think to myself. Mind you, I would eat ketchup, marina sauce and almost any other tomato by-product in abundance, but never raw tomatoes.

While studying abroad in Florence during college, however, I fell hard for Caprese salad. It was a baby step, since I couldn't actually get the tomato down without a giant piece of mozzarella on top. But after recently tasting ripe heirloom tomatoes from the farmers' market - just plucked off the vine - I knew it was love at first bite.

So now that tomato season is in full effect, I can't keep myself from buying pounds and pounds of them in all colors, shapes, and sizes. Their possibilities seem endless: gazpacho, no-cook tomato sauce, BLT sandwiches or just plain with a little salt and pepper. But there's one tiny problem. My boyfriend hates them, and this girl can't eat all these tomatoes by herself (although she can try). So I figure if I could learn to love them, so could he. He just might need a little nudge in the right direction.

Perhaps if I added a flaky homemade pie crust, some fresh herbs, and loads of cheese, well then maybe just maybe I could get him to appreciate the glories of a juicy summer tomato. And guess what? I was right. He loved this tomato pie! As did my roommates (one even declared via text message, "tomato pie is my new favorite food" ) and everyone else who managed to nab a piece. I must add, this tomato pie was beyond even my wildest dreams.

The key is to use the freshest ingredients you can find. Perfect tomatoes, fresh garden basil and hand-grated cheese will make this dish soar. Quality really does make a difference. I think this makes the perfect lunch, served with a green salad and a crisp white wine. If you want to up the ante, crumble bacon on top for a little savory touch.

I believe I will be making this again tomorrow. And maybe the day after that.

HEIRLOOM TOMATO PIE

1 (9 inch) homemade or store-bought pie crust, unbaked
4-5 medium sized ripe tomatoes, sliced
2 tablespoons chopped basil
2 cups freshly-grated medium or sharp cheddar cheese
1 cup good-quality mayonnaise
1/2 cup freshly-grated parmesan cheese
Garlic powder, to taste
Salt and pepper, to taste

Lay out the tomato slices on a large sheet of paper towels. Cover with more paper towels and allow to drain for approximately 30 minutes (this is crucial to not getting a watery pie).

Preheat oven to 400 degrees. Prick pie crust evenly with a fork and par-bake for 10 - 13 minutes. Remove crust and lower oven temperature to 325 degrees.

In a medium-sized bowl, mix mayonnaise and cheddar cheese. Arrange a layer of tomatoes in the crust. Sprinkle with salt, pepper, basil and garlic powder (to taste). Spoon 1/2 of mayonnaise mixture over the tomatoes and spread evenly using a small rubber spatula. Arrange another layer of tomatoes, overlapping to fill any space. Sprinkle with salt, pepper, basil and garlic powder (to taste). Add the rest of the mayonnaise mixture. Sprinkle parmesan cheese on top.

Cook for approximately 40 minutes, watching the crust carefully. If the crust begins to darken too quickly, cover the edges with aluminum foil. Garnish with additional basil and serve warm.

HEIRLOOM TOMATO PIE

Source: Nealey Dozier
Yields: 6 - 8 servings

1 (9 inch) homemade or store-bought pie crust, unbaked
4-5 medium sized ripe tomatoes, sliced
2 tablespoons chopped basil
2 cups freshly-grated medium or sharp cheddar cheese
1 cup good-quality mayonnaise
1/2 cup freshly-grated parmesan cheese
Garlic powder, to taste
Kosher salt and freshly ground black pepper, to taste

Lay out the tomato slices on a large sheet of paper towels. Cover with more paper towels and allow to drain for approximately 30 minutes (this is crucial to not getting a watery pie).

Preheat oven to 400 degrees. Prick pie crust evenly with a fork and par-bake for 10 - 13 minutes. Remove crust and lower oven temperature to 325 degrees.

In a medium-sized bowl, mix mayonnaise and cheddar cheese. Arrange a layer of tomatoes in the crust. Sprinkle with salt, pepper, basil and garlic powder (to taste). Spoon 1/2 of mayonnaise mixture over the tomatoes and spread evenly using a small rubber spatula. Arrange another layer of tomatoes, overlapping to fill any space. Sprinkle with salt, pepper, basil and garlic powder (to taste). Add the rest of the mayonnaise mixture. Sprinkle parmesan cheese on top.

Cook for approximately 40 minutes, watching the crust carefully. If the crust begins to darken too quickly, cover the edges with aluminum foil. Garnish with additional basil and serve warm.

(Inspired by My Mother's Southern Kitchen, by James Villas)