Comfort Foods and Indulgences

Pizza is local. A guy from Cincinnati traveling in Italy will thumb his nose at the pizza because it’s not what he used to eat in Ohio when he was going through puberty. Italians are no different. I know Romans who make rude gestures when they talk about the pizza from Naples.

“The crust is too thick — and then it falls apart in the middle. It is without structure.”

I’ve eaten a lot of pizza in Naples; I’ve downed an obscene number of pies at Baffetto in Rome; I’ve had Sicilian pizza in Sicily, Pugliese pizza in Puglia and Ligurian pizza in Liguria (excellent, by the way) and pizza, at its best, is totally local, which means to say it reflects the personality and the groceries of its neighborhood.

Obviously I’m not referring here to pizza chains, which produce cookie-cutter pies of no interest. Nor am I referring to take-out pizza, which is an abomination. Take-out pizza absorbs the taste and smell of the cardboard it travels in. By the time it arrives you may as well just eat the box. No, I’m talking about real pizza.

A few nights ago, I made a roast chicken, a huge salad, and some baked sweet potatoes. I ate my sweet potato and although Eli loves them, he ignored them. I couldn’t waste them, so I took the skin off, tossed the potato meat into my ricer and threw the puree into the fridge. As I was cleaning out my fridge days later, I remembered the puree.

I turned to my trustee baking bible, Dorie’s, Baking: From My Home to Yours and adapted her pumpkin muffins for my left over sweet potato puree. They were perfectly light, not too dense and deliciously complimented my morning tea. The uneaten muffins went to work with Miguel. The kids were happy, I was happy and hopefully, Miguel’s office will be happy, too.

There are many versions of eggplant parmesan. I probably like them all. The earthy sweetness of the eggplant and tomato sauce, the gooey mozzarella, and the sharpness of the parmesan all come together to make something delectable. Eggplant parmesan was the most satisfying vegetarian dinner I ate when I was growing up.

In some recipes the eggplant is breaded and fried. While this adds a whole extra layer of texture, I don't think it's necessary. The version I grew up with was one my mom made and perhaps it's just the familiarity of it, but I really do think it's the best. Because it isn't fried it's not greasy which is often what happens with eggplant. A hearty filling entree I wouldn't dream of serving it without spaghetti on the side.

It hit me hard. A craving for pimento cheese just came out of nowhere and wham! I had to have some.

The mother of one of my good buddies from my childhood in Hawkinsville made the best pimento cheese… and that’s the recipe I wanted to try. I couldn’t remember exactly how she made it, so I tried to recreate hers. Low and behold, I came out with a version I’m quite proud of. Like any dish, simple but good ingredients make the difference, and with pecans falling, a fall spin on this Southern classic was born.

Toasted pecans make just about anything better...tomato soup, any dessert, salads, and now pimento cheese. That essence, that flavor of goodness from a toasted pecan makes my taste buds sing.A slight salting doesn’t hurt either. A few of these from the farm goodies tucked into my pimento cheese sandwich were quite good my friends, quite good. 

Now on to my next pimento cheese condiment…Wickle’s Pickles. Those of us who attended Auburn or are from that neck of the woods know what I’m talking about. These Dadeville, Alabama exports are pickles with a kick and are super right out of jar or on a sandwich or burger. (Try my pimento cheese and these pickles on a burger…wow!) Many of the major grocers are now carrying this brand so go get some as soon as you can! Be sure to try them with my pimento cheese and toasted pecans too...yum!