One Great . . . inspiration in the kitchen

Wednesday's celebration of what would have been Julia Child's 100th birthday has us all pulling out memories, tributes and - the best part to me - recipes.

To join the fun, I'll repost a profile I wrote after spending several days around Mrs. Child at the Greenbrier in West Virginia in the 1990s.

For years, she was the headline speaker at the Symposium for Professional Food Writers. Before blogs, the Greenbrier symposium pulled in everyone from A-list food writing speakers to freelance writers for tiny papers all over the country.

I got to go to the Greenbrier twice in those years. The first time, I went as an attendee and new food writer, which is when I wrote the story about Julia Child. And a few years later, in an honor I never expected and still can't quite believe I got, I was invited to return as a speaker.

The first event was really special, the first time I got to sit at the feet of my own heroes and feel like maybe, just maybe, I might have something to bring to this food-writing thing.

On the last morning, there was a cooking seminar with Anne Willan and Mrs. Child. She made duck legs with a salad, and talked about how it worked so much better if you cut a duck apart and cooked its legs separately from its breast. She answered questions in her eminently sensible way. And she shared her favorite thing to make for dessert when she had friends over for supper.

I fell in love with the recipe. But what I really fell in love with was the idea that she would offer it. So much is made about Mrs. Child's down-to-earth manner. But this recipe, to me, is the proof of it.

She had lived a long time and she had learned that the best food isn't what we cook to impress. It's when we just share something that tastes good. And when you get to the end of a good dinner, particularly one where you've lingered over a bottle of wine or two, you don't need anything fancy to finish it up.

I'll post the story I wrote on Wednesday. But in the meantime, here's my favorite Julia Child recipe.

Julia's Ice Cream Surprise

Vanilla ice cream ("the best quality you can afford.")
Bourbon
Instant coffee

Get out your nice parfait glasses. Fill each with a couple of scoops of vanilla ice cream. Pour a shot of bourbon over the ice cream in each glass. Sprinkle the top of each with about a teaspoon of instant coffee.

Serve immediately, with long spoons.

Makes as many servings as you want it to.

One Great . . . New Year's Day soup

Yes, I'm superstitious: I would never consider passing the first day of the year without eating collards, black-eyed peas and a little hog jowl. Some people say the peas represent coins and the collards represent money. My Georgia-born parents used to tease us that if you're eating poor people's food by choice, it's a sign that you're doing pretty good.

Whatever. Given the current economy, I don't intend to take a chance.

I was looking around through this year's crop of new cookbooks when I spotted this in "A New Turn in the South," by Hugh Acheson. Acheson is the chef of the restaurants Five and Ten and The National in Athens, Ga., and Empire State South in Atlanta. But these days, he's probably more famous as the chef with the unibrow on "Top Chef Masters" and a regular judge on "Top Chef."

If you want to adhere strictly to tradition, you could swap the mustard greens for collards, but you'll need to add them earlier, probably when you add the peas. The recipe is a little longer than we usually use for One Great, but you can simplify things and use a mix for the cornbread.

Field Pea, Ham Hock & Mustard Green Soup
From "A New Turn in the South," by Hugh Acheson (Clarkson Potter, $35).

1 tablespoon unsalted butter
1/2 cup minced sweet onion
1/2 cup diced carrot
1 stalk celery, minced
3 garlic cloves, peeled
1/2 cup dried black-eyed peas
6 cups chicken stock (low-sodium if canned)
1 smoked ham hock, about 1 pound
1 batch of cornbread, baked and cooled
2 tablespoons bacon fat
1 tablespoon chopped fresh thyme
2 cups chopped mustard greens
1 cup chopped tomato
1 teaspoon kosher salt
1 tablespoon cider vinegar
Extra-virgin olive oil

Place a 4- to 6-quart pot over medium heat and melt the butter. Add the onion, carrot and celery and cook 10 minutes, stirring occasionally.

Add the garlic, black-eyed peas, chicken stock and ham hock. Cook until the peas are tender, about 1 hour. Skim occasionally to remove any white bean matter that rises to the top.

Cut the cornbread into 1/2-inch-by-1/2-inch cubes while the soup is cooking. Heat the bacon fat in a large cast-iron skillet over medium heat. Add the cubes and toast until crisp, cooking in batches if needed. Cool on a large plate.

Remove the ham hock and let stand until cool enough to handle. Remove the meat from the bone, coarsely chop and return to the pot. Add the thyme, mustard greens, tomato and salt to the soup. Cook 10 minutes longer. Drizzle each serving with a few drops of vinegar and a dash of olive oil, and garnish with a few cornbread croutons.

Yield: Serves 6 with leftovers.

One Great . . . classic winter vegetable

A big pile of very fresh, very leafy Swiss chard grabbed my attention at a farmers market recently. It's already far enough into winter that green is starting to stand out.

The great thing about Swiss chard is that you get so much out of it: The meaty, crunchy stems and the big, ruffled leaves can be cooked separately and then combined into one dish. Of course, the downside is a hint of beet flavor, which someone people aren't crazy about. So the French have the right idea: Mix it all up with an easy bechamel, so the focus is on green and cream.




Swiss Chard Gratin
Adapted from "The Art of Simple Food," by Alice Waters.

1 1/2 bunches chard
1 cup fresh breadcrumbs
About 2 tablespoons butter, divided
1 onion, peeled and diced
Salt
2 teaspoons all-purpose flour
1/2 cup milk (nonfat will work)
Freshly grated nutmeg

Wash the chard and cut away the thick stems. Trim the stems, then cut into thin slices. Set aside the leaves separately. Bring a pot of salted water to boil. Add the stems and cook about 2 minutes. Stir in the leaves and cook about 3 minutes. Drain, then let stand a few minutes until cool enough to handle. Squeeze out any excess liquid and chop everything coarsely.

Melt about 2 teaspoons of butter in a small skillet over medium heat. Add the breadcrumbs and stir to coat, then cook, stirring occasionally, until lightly brown. Set aside.

Melt 1 1/2 tablespoons butter over over medium heat in a heavy saucepan. Add the onion and cook about 5 minutes, until transluscent. Stir in the chard and a little salt and cook several minutes. Sprinkle the flour over the vegetables and stir well. Stir in the milk and a little freshly grated nutmeg. Cook 5 minutes, stirring occasionally, until thick. Taste and add more salt and nutmeg if needed.

Butter a small baking dish and spread the chard mixture in. Dot with 2 teaspoons butter. Sprinkle evenly with breadcrumbs. Bake in a 350-degree oven for 20 to 30 minutes, until bubbling.

Yield: 4 servings.

One Great . . . Late Summer Pasta Dish

With the good-tomato season running out faster than a kid who's missing the bus, I can't resist buying as many as I can at the farmers market. Which means that I look up late in the week and realize I have several fat tomatoes that are crossing the border from ripe to too-ripe.

Casting around for a way to turn a few juicy specimens into dinner, I spied the new book "Cook This Now," from New York Times food columnist Melissa Clark. Organized by seasons, it was easy to find the dish "Pasta With Bacon, Rosemary, and Very Ripe Tomatoes." It was fast and easy, and piled next to a piece of wild salmon, it made a tasty summer supper.

Pasta With Bacon, Rosemary, and Very Ripe Tomatoes

Serves 2 (4 at my house, thanks to the salmon)

8 ounces pasta shape of choice (she suggests farro spaghetti; I used farfelle)
3 ounces bacon, sliced into 1/2-inch pieces (I used a little home-cured slab bacon from the freezer)
1 large, bushy rosemary sprig (I pulled the leaves off the sprig and minced them)
2 cloves garlic, minced
Pinch crushed red pepper flakes
Kosher salt and freshly ground pepper to taste
2 very large or 3 medium tomatoes, cored and chopped
Balsamic vinegar (optional)
Soft herbs, such as minced thyme, if you want (very optional)
Grated Pecorino Romano (optional)

Bring a large pot of salted water to boil and cook pasta according to package directions (11 minutes for farfelle).

Place a large skillet over medium heat. Add the bacon and cook until brown, about 5 minutes. Transfer bacon to a paper towel, leaving the fat in the pan; if it looks really greasy, spoon some out to just leave a thin layer. (Since I was using thicker slab bacon, I just left it in the pan and cooked it into the sauce.)

Add the rosemary, garlic, red pepper flakes and salt and pepper to taste to the skillet and cook until the garlic is lightly browned but not burned, 1 to 2 minutes. Add the tomatoes and let the sauce simmer until the pasta is cooked. Season aggressively with more salt and pepper. If it tastes flat, add a few drops of vinegar.

Drain the pasta and add to the sauce, tossing to mix. Sprinkle with the bacon and herbs if you're using them. Grate some Pecorino Romano over the top if desired.

One Great Late-Summer Salad

What does a summer with lots of heat and plenty of rain bring us? From what I've seen at the farmers' markets lately, it's definitely tomatoes and watermelon. Meanwhile, in my herb bed, the basil is waist-high and the mint is out of control. In the spirit of the old culinary rule "what grows together, goes together," here's a way to put them all together.

This recipe was adapted from the new book "Sara Foster's Southern Kitchen," in the summer 2011 issue of Edible Piedmont, which just turned up in my mailbox.

Watermelon-Tomato Salad With Shaved Feta and Handfuls of Mint

Serves 6 to 8

3 large heirloom-type tomatoes (about 1 1/2 pounds), cored and cut into chunks
4 cups cubed, seeded watermelon
1/2 cup fresh mint, roughly chopped
1/2 cup fresh basil, roughly chopped
2 tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil
2 tablespoons sherry vinegar
Juice of 1 lime
Sea salt and freshly ground black pepper
1/2 cup (about 2 ounces) feta, shaved or thinly sliced
1 lime, cut in wedges

Combine the tomatoes, watermelon, mint, basil, olive oil, vinegar, lime juice, salt and pepper in a large bowl and toss to mix. Cover and refrigerate several hours.

Just before serving, sprinkle with the feta and serve with lime wedges and sea salt for squeezing and sprinkling on top.

Photo: examiner.com