Root Vegetable

The bay tree at La Varenne is a monster, more than twenty feet tall. There’s a niche or cubbyhole on one side, the side that everyone approaches to cut fresh leaves for classes. I implore my students to discard the jars of brown, tasteless dried bay leaves in their pantries: even a semi-fresh bay leaf several weeks old from the fridge will have more flavor.

Years ago in France, many homes did not have an oven, so if anything was to be baked, it was taken to the local baker (boulanger) to cook in his oven. This recipe, known in France as pommes boulangère, is a healthy departure from classic potato recipes that use lots of butter and cream. It really shines with freshly harvested potatoes, when they are at their finest. Serve it with Herb Roast Chicken (page 110) for a warming winter meal.

Edamame is the Japanese word for soybean. Soybeans are somewhat mild in flavor, a cross between a pea and a fava bean. We’re lucky enough to sometimes find them fresh during the summer months, at the farmer’s market or a specialty store, but they are widely available frozen, both in the pod and shelled. Adults and children alike love edamame as a snack. Once the soybeans are cooked or reheated, drain them well, and season with coarse salt or sea salt. Squeeze the seeds directly from the pods into your mouth. Think highbrow boiled peanuts. Edamame may be eaten as a snack or a vegetable, and used in soups or stir-fries. I also like to mash them with potatoes, as in this recipe.

At first glance, Anne Willan, the proper, Cambridge-educated grande dame of cuisine, would seem to have little in common with a Mafia don. Looks can be deceiving: those “in the know” are well aware of the “La Varenne Way.” The La Varenne Way of recipe testing has evolved with Anne’s experience of more than thirty-five years as a teacher, cookbook author, and food writer. As the director of École de Cuisine La Varenne, the cooking school that she founded in Burgundy in 1975, with the encouragement and support of the grand doyenne herself, Julia Child, Willan has shaped and influenced countless professional and amateur cooks all over the world, myself included. La Varenne alumni are called, tongue-in-cheek, the “La Varenne Mafia.” No secret society, the list of capos reads like a Who’s Who of the culinary world. The invaluable training I acquired in France working with Anne opened countless doors and a world of possibilities. Anne is one of the hardest-working individuals I know, and her drive for perfection has long been an inspiration. This rich gratin, typical of simple country French cooking, was inspired by a version I learned while at La Varenne.

The key to a fluffy mash is to use the right tool: a ricer, a food mill, or an old-fashioned potato masher. A ricer resembles an overgrown garlic press. Cooked vegetables are placed in its hopper and forced through tiny holes with a plunger, producing a texture vaguely like that of rice. A food mill consists of a round metal bowl with a curved blade that turns with a hand crank. Secured to the bottom of the bowl are interchangeable disks with holes from fine to coarse. When you turn the crank, the blade mashes the cooked food through the holes. Both the ricer and the food mill produce exquisite mashes and purees with a smoother texture than the humble old-fashioned potato masher. These simple tools are the precursors to the efficient food processor. However, they do a better job than a processor or electric mixer for any mixture that contains potatoes, as both food processor and mixer produce a gummy mass instead of a silken puree. Meme had a ricer she used for years. Mama and I joke, “The Smithsonian called and wants their exhibit back.” The truth is, sometimes older is better.

Rich, buttery potatoes are the perfect foil for pungent, spicy, freshly grated horseradish, a fiery cousin to kale, cauliflower, and Brussels sprouts. Although bottled horseradish will do in a pinch, there’s nothing like the bite of the freshly grated root. For spectacular results, serve Pepper-crusted Beef with Cognac and Golden Raisins (page 93) or Braised Short Ribs (page 87) on a bed of this.

French-style potato purees are very finely processed, and often incorporate copious amounts of butter, so the resulting puree is silky smooth. In this recipe, the addition of celeriac to the potatoes creates another layer of flavor. Traditionally, in classic French cooking, white sauces use white pepper instead of black, making the finished dish appear more refined. When we were children and would see pepper in a dish we would complain, often without tasting, that it was “too hot.” Sneakily, Mama started using white pepper to pull the wool over our eyes.

Only a Southerner, inheritor of the infamous Southern sweet tooth, would add massive quantities of butter and sugar to a dish and still regard it as a vegetable. Add a shot of bourbon? No problem.

I prefer using fresh sweet potatoes over the canned variety. However, not everyone feels this way. Around the fall holidays, towering mountains of canned yams are constructed in grocery stores throughout the South. Truth is, the contents are not yams at all. What is often labeled and sold as yams are actually sweet potatoes. Botanically speaking, yams are tubers and a member of the lily family; sweet potatoes are the root of a member of the morning glory family. Yams originated in Africa, whereas sweet potatoes are New World plants. There are many varieties of both that differ in size, taste, shape, and color. When I doubted Mama about the amount of butter and sugar in this dish for a mere four sweet potatoes, she laughed and said, “Y’all always like it this way.” Feel free to reduce the amount of sugar and butter in the sweet potato base should your conscience (or waistline) see fit.

In Atlanta, people ask you, “What’s your business?” In Augusta, they ask, “What’s your mother’s maiden name?” In Macon, they ask, “Where do you go to church?” In Savannah, they ask, “What would you like to drink?” That generous hospitality and sense of fun is typical of Savannah style; this dish is very likely to be served at one of Savannah’s legendary cocktail parties. As Georgia’s most valuable seafood crop, between 4 1/2 million and 9 1/2 million pounds of heads-on shrimp are harvested annually by a fleet of more than five hundred boats, the majority owner-operated and based within an hour or so of Savannah. It is common to find fishermen whose families have fished the same grounds for generations. Preserving and pickling seafood in citrus juice, vinegar, and brine is a technique used all over the world—in Spanish ceviche, for example. This combination of ingredients acts as a cooking agent, denaturing the proteins and rendering the raw seafood cooked. Many recipes state shrimp pickled by this technique may be stored for up to ten days, tightly covered in the refrigerator, but I disagree. Even if you weren’t concerned about food-borne illness, why bother? The acid would continue working and you’d wind up with bouncy balls of shrimp-flavored pink rubber. Up to two days in the refrigerator is fine. Serve on a bed of lettuce for a nice cold salad, or as a delightful nibble on a buffet.

Mama always loved to order this dish when we went to the beach. But many cooks now avoid serving it since the harvesting methods are not considered ecologically friendly. In many instances, the fish are caught using a trawling method. Imagine a bulldozer scraping along the ocean floor, indiscriminately catching intended as well as unintended species. Even though flounder also suffers from overfishing (it seems too many people appreciate one of the best fish in the Gulf): I am calling for flounder here for old times’ sake. But you can substitute flat fish like English or Dover sole and turbot, which get better ecological marks and whose flavors are similar to that of flounder.

When I was young, we spent many weekends at the Indian Creek Recreation Area, about ten miles south of Alexandria, Louisiana. In the spring, at the height of crawfish season, several families would get together and have a crawfish boil. I remember a huge pot practically the size of a bathtub filled with bright red crawfish, halved ears of yellow corn, sweet onions, whole new potatoes in the skin, and thick links of sausage, all bubbling in broth. The picnic tables were covered with newspapers and one of the men would dump a steaming basket of the potent mixture into the center of each. We’d gather around and eat, peeling the meat from the tails and sucking on the heads to get every last bit of the peppery juice. Crawfish are also known as mudbugs, crawdads, and crayfish. These freshwater crustaceans, in season from December to May, range in size from three to six inches and weigh from two to eight ounces. This recipe would be equally delicious made with blue or Dungeness crabs.

Julia Child was quoted as saying, “Once you have mastered a technique, you hardly need look at a recipe again.” The technique for cooking tough cuts of meat is braising: the meat is seared until dark brown for flavor, then removed from the pot. Aromatics such as herbs and vegetables are cooked in the same pot in a small amount of the remaining fat. The pan is subsequently deglazed with liquid to help remove any brown bits of flavor from the bottom of the pan, then the meat is returned and liquid is added to come up to the meat’s “shoulders.” Pot roast is a classic braised dish.

In classic French cooking, each dish has a name that indicates its precise ingredients and correct garnish. Bourguignonne is a term for dishes cooked in red wine, as some of the most famous French wines are from Bourgogne (Burgundy). These dishes are garnished with pearl onions, button mushrooms, and lardons of bacon. Never choose stew meat already in precut cubes. It’s more expensive and you have no idea if you’re getting, for example, leftover bits from the shoulder or rib-eye, two wildly different cuts that won’t cook at the same rate.

Brisket is tough, and it is best suited for braising and slow cooking, which tenderizes the meat from within by dissolving the cut’s plentiful collagen and fat. Brisket is very often smoked in the South; in fact, barbecue means brisket in Texas, as barbecue means pork in the Southeast. Buy fresh brisket (not corned or brined), ideally the flat or first cut, which is leaner than point or second cut, and has a layer of fat running across it to help keep it moist. Hungarian paprika, ground from dried sweet peppers, gives the sauce another layer of flavor and a slightly reddish color. There are six types of Hungarian paprika, ranging from delicate to hot; any of them would be fine in this dish. My mother and Aunt Lee took a whirlwind trip to Eastern Europe several years ago. True to their natures, they did have enough time, however, to shop. Knowing how much I like to purchase local ingredients when I travel, Mama brought me paprika as a gift. It’s basically a lifetime supply. I store it in the freezer in an airtight container to help it last as long as possible and not become stale and flavorless.

Mama often prepared quiche during the time that coincided with that ridiculous phrase and tongue-in-cheek bestseller, Real Men Don’t Eat Quiche. I thought it was absurd then, and still do. Cheesy, yummy, eggy goodness encased in rich, golden pastry? What’s not to like?

While I lived and worked at La Varenne, we often dined outside on a terrace overlooking miles of Burgundian countryside. One memorable day, I cut off the tip of my left thumb while preparing potato salad for one of our outdoor feasts. I quickly wrapped my hand in a towel and raised it above my head. I grabbed the severed bit from the cutting board in my right hand, walked into Anne Willan’s office, and told her I had cut myself. She asked to see it. I refused. She insisted. Finally, opening my right palm, I said, “Well, here it is.” The grand dame Anne blanched and replied, “Oh dear, I think we need a Cognac.” After a trip to the hospital I did enjoy the feast, but declined a serving of the potato salad.

Russet (also called Idaho) potatoes are not usually recommended for potato salad. They can become waterlogged when boiled and fall apart easily. Their high-starch, low-moisture content makes them inclined to absorb too much dressing. But that is the beauty of this dish. This is the archetypical summer potato salad that has been served on paper plates across the country for generations. When Mama prepares this salad, she lets the potatoes cool just enough, but not completely. The cubes break down slightly and the salad is a blend of larger pieces of potato with a little bit of creamy mash. This is one of my sister’s favorite dishes, a comforting classic that echoes with childhood memories whenever Mama makes it, so she always makes a big batch. The recipe halves beautifully.

These beets are roasted, and very delicious! But if you have a mandoline, a professional tool that will slice vegetables evenly and very thinly, skip the roasting process and slice the beets raw (this works only with beets at the peak of seasonal freshness—sweet, dry, and tender). When really fresh beets are sliced so thin as to be almost shaved, there is no need to cook them. Toasted walnut oil adds a classic French flavor to the salad, but you could also use almond or pecan oil, available online and at gourmet or specialty markets. Store nut oils in the refrigerator; they turn rancid fairly quickly.

We bought my grandmother a food processor, but she continued to use her hand-cranked shredder for grating. Made of cast aluminum, it was a sturdy beast that attached to the counter with a vise. She would peel the carrots and Dede would patiently shred them into a large bowl for carrot slaw. This recipe is a bit more complex in flavor and technique than Meme’s, and I use a food processor to shred the vegetables. Just make sure you shred the carrots first! To prevent the beets from staining the carrots when mixed in the salad, the key is to dress the beets before combining with the carrots. This seals in their red pigments (betalains), which don’t dissolve in oil.