Bubbly and cupcakes. Bubbly IN cupcakes?! Yes ✔️ please.

Perfect for NYE!

Cupcakes

• 1 box vanilla cake mix
• 1 cup champagne or Prosecco
• ½ cup oil
• 3 eggs
• 1 teaspoon orange zest

Frosting

• 1 cup butter, softened
• 4 cups powdered sugar, divided
• ¼ cup champagne or Prosecco, room temperature
• 1 teaspoon vanilla extract
• 1 teaspoon orange zest
• Pinch kosher salt
• Gold sanding sugar, for garnish
• Orange wedges, for garnish

Directions

Preheat oven to 350 degrees.  Line 18 muffin tins with cupcake liners.  In a large bowl beat cake mix with champagne, oil, eggs, and orange zest.  Fill cupcake liners ¾ full with batter.  Bake 18 minutes.  Let cool completely before frosting. 

Make frosting:  using an electric mixer beat butter and 2 cups of powdered sugar until fluffy.  Add champagne, vanilla, orange zest, and salt.  Beat until incorporated, then add remaining 2 cups powered sugar and mix until smooth and fluffy.  Frost cooled cupcakes.  Garnish with gold sanding sugar and garnish with orange wedges.

Original recipe from Delish.

Ashley Madden Rowton is a wife, mom, and contributor to Webster Parish, Natchitoches Parish, and Shreveport-Bossier journals, as well as a published cookbook author.

By Robert St. John

BARBERINO-TAVARNELLE, ITALY— Is it possible that one can fall in love with a town? I love my hometown of Hattiesburg, Mississippi— deeply— and can’t see myself living anywhere else. Ever. But I am a sixth-generation citizen in that part of the world. My roots are deep there. My history is long there. My businesses are there. Most of my family and friends are there. I didn’t fall in love with it. I’ve always loved it. To fall in love with a place one wants to travel to, time and time again, is rare to my thinking.

OK, I get it. People vacation on the beach in the Florida Panhandle, fall in love with it, buy a condo, and return often. The same goes with a mountain home or lake house. But those seem like vacation homes to me. Places to get away, feel free, relax, decompress, and be isolated for a while.

I also understand that people go to places such as Paris and are enchanted by the beauty, history, charm, and romantic nature of those cities. Who wouldn’t? But that is romance. I have been romanced by dozens of cities and places.

I’m talking about a place— especially a non-descript place— that seemingly has no desire to attract outside visitors, one that exists fully unto itself, has no CVB or tourism agency promoting its attributes, and one in which most of the citizens are surprised that others even want to visit. That is rare.

I have found such a place.

A Tuscan local once said, “Tavarnelle is the ugliest town in Tuscany.”

Another local replied, “No. Poggibonsi is the ugliest town in Tuscany. Tavarnelle is the second ugliest.”

Not in my book.

Beauty comes in many forms. There is not a lot about Barberino-Tavarnelle that is architecturally significant, especially on the Tavarnelle side. But I love this place. The longer I am here the more I see the beauty below the surface.

Tavarnelle and Barberino were separate entities until a few years ago when the city governments combined. Barberino has a very small, but charming, walled, Medieval city center, but Tavarnelle is a place that most would pass through and not stop 99 times out of 100. They would do so to their detriment.

Tavarnelle was substantially bombed during World War II. Most of the old buildings are gone and post-1948 buildings have taken their place. But the Via Roma, the ancient road that passes through the middle of town, is the same road Michelangelo travelled when heading to Rome. The road is so old that when Jesus was walking in Jerusalem, people were also walking on the Via Roma.

There is so much history here.

I love the food, especially in the places the locals seem to think are no big deal. They, like us, are guilty of not being able to see the forest for the trees, whether they be olive trees, parasol pines, or cypress. When one is exposed to local establishments every day, one tends to take them for granted. I am only here a few months out of the year. Things always seem new to me. And for the past six years or so I’ve been hosting groups of Americans here and introducing them to this place and its people.

There is a lot to love here.

I love that dogs can— and do—enter restaurants and lie beside their owners as they eat. I love seeing all of the old men playing some type of card game I have never understood in the front room at Paolo’s. They’re the same men who were there in 2011 when I first came to this area.

Paolo’s place seems to be the center of town. It’s the Italian embodiment of what I have preached for decades— it’s the local cafes and bars that tell us the most about a town. It’s where the town gathers to share a meal and share their lives. This is not EPCOT Italy. This is the real thing.

I love the ladies who work in the bakery I visit every morning. I am obviously fond of the pastries they serve, but I also appreciate their enthusiastic energy and the welcoming way they greet me when I walk through the door every day. Italian bakeries have such good energy in the morning. Most people don’t even sit. It’s typically a five-minute visit for a quick espresso and a hand-held pastry.

The green-grocer on the town square and I still can’t verbally communicate after a decade of doing business together (that’s on me). But we still engage in trade somehow, and he hand picks the best fruits and vegetables around. I love that.

I love that the olive oil on the tables of most restaurants comes from olive trees within a half mile of the restaurant (many times on site), and the wine and cheese typically come from farms and vineyards just a few miles away. These people invented “local.”

I constantly see this town through new eyes. We can only have one “first time.” The first time I saw Michelangelo’s David I was emotionally moved. But that was my one “first time.” It’s not that I can’t appreciate— and be awed by— that amazing work of art on subsequent visits, but there’s only one first time. By hosting people over here and turning them on to all the locals-only restaurants and locations I’ve discovered I get to live through their “first time.”

Processes and traditions that seemed strange, outdated, and complicated in my early visits to Barberino-Tavarnelle make sense now, and I navigate the system fairly well. My first grocery store visit back in 2011 was a nightmare at every turn. I didn’t know I was supposed to put on gloves before handling the produce (at the green-grocer, no one touches the fruit or vegetable but the store employees), and I didn’t know I was supposed to weigh and price-label the produce before bringing it to the check-out line. That first visit was on a busy Saturday night as everyone was stocking up because the store was closed the following day. I was truly a stranger in a strange land. These days I shop like a pro.

I don’t feel strange any longer. People know me here. People seem to like me, my family, and our guests. One of the proudest moments I’ve experienced as a tour host is after one of my groups left several weeks ago. We received a lot of compliments from restaurateurs, hotels, and guides about how kind, friendly, fun, and respectful the Americans were, and what a joy it was to have them.

I still speak little to no Italian. What little Italian I do speak is rarely ever pronounced correctly, as I mangle every other word. That’s not a good thing, and I should probably make more of an effort to learn the language. But I have a hard time remembering what I said five minutes ago, I feel like 61 may be too late to learn. I’m afraid that, until I am over here and forced to communicate to survive, I am not going to be able to learn Italian, easily. I can speak menu Italian, but I have so many locals surrounding me daily who speak English that I am spoiled and probably just downright lazy about it if I am to be honest.

I will never leave my home in Hattiesburg, but I’ll keep working over here several months a year as long as Americans want to come over and visit my favorite little Tuscan town, meet my favorite people, eat and drink the wonderful things this land— and those hands— provide, and fall in love, too.

Onward.

Annagloria’s Gorganzola Grapes

My friend Annagloria served these as a first course at a dinner party in her house one evening. I thought they were perfect.

40-50 each Red grapes
½ lb. Gorgonzola dolce
½ lb.  Cream cheese, softened
½ lb. Toasted pistachios

Wash the grapes and dry thoroughly with a kitchen towel. Set aside.

Combine the gorgonzola and cream cheese in the bowl of a stand mixer fitted with the paddle attachment. Mix on high speed until completely homogenous, scraping down the sides as needed.

Grind the pistachios in a food processor, transfer to a bowl and set aside.

Coat the dry grapes completely in the cheese mixture and then roll in the crushed pistachios to coat evenly. Refrigerate for at least 2 hours in an airtight container before serving.

Robert St. John is a chef, restaurateur and cookbook author

By Robert St. John

This morning I read a Business News Daily article that listed the most stressful jobs in America. Enlisted military personnel came first, firefighter, second, and airline pilot, third. Police officer landed in fourth place. I wouldn’t argue with any of those rankings.

Broadcaster came in fifth. I’m not sure I agree with that. Before I got into the restaurant business, I spent four years as a radio station disc jockey. I can tell you that, other than the first couple of shifts— when I was so nervous, I was physically shaking— it was one of the easiest jobs I’ve ever had. With apologies to all my friends in the media, I’m not sure broadcaster even belongs in the top 50 of most stressful jobs (with the definite exception of war correspondents in the field). Newspaper reporters came in seventh. I don’t agree with that one either. Public relations executives also made the top ten. Sorry but I must argue again. I am sure they were thinking of crisis management in a PR sense, but that is situational. Taxi driver came in at number 10. Last week I was in several taxis in New York. Those guys didn’t seem worried about anything.

There was no mention of restaurateur. It just goes to show you that, Simone Johnson, the author of the article for Business News Daily, has no clue as to what is involved in the opening a restaurant, or its daily operations.

Event coordinator did come in at number six. I get it. I’ve done a lot of catering over the last 40 years, and in addition to the hundreds of little things that can go wrong during a major catering event (we almost blew up the garage of a wedding reception once— another story for another day), you are typically dealing with people at their most anxious. Most people don’t entertain very often so it’s a stressful thing. In turn it becomes a stressful thing for the event coordinator. So, for the purposes of this column, I will assume that event coordinator also includes restaurateur, which puts those of us crazy enough to be passionate about this profession as the sixth most stressful job.

I’m in the middle of my 24th restaurant opening in the past 40 years. I believe it’s truly one of the most stressful things anyone could ever do (or at least sixth most stressful). I imagine from an outsider’s perspective one would look at opening a restaurant as, “why not just teach the cooks the recipes, tell the front-of-the-house staff how you want them to serve the tables, and just let guests file in.” How awesome it would be if it were that simple.

The opening of a new restaurant is demanding, taxing, tiring, fraught with potential disaster around every corner, and I love every minute of it. There are so many moving parts and so many opportunities to drop the ball. Though the older I get— and the longer I stay in this business— I see those as opportunities to win guests over. Mistakes are going to happen, and especially during the honeymoon period in the early stages of a restaurant. It’s not about the mistakes, it’s about how the mistakes are handled. If four decades in the restaurant business has taught me anything, it’s that a bad guest experience, handled properly at the table, can turn into a situation that wins a customer over, and sometimes more so than if they just enjoyed a flawless meal. It’s not about the mistake. It’s about how the mistake is handled.

This most recent opening was a unique one. We took over an existing restaurant in Ridgeland, Mississippi that had been in business for 12 years. They shut the doors one day, and we took over the entire restaurant the next day. Two weeks later— after a major deep-clean, some redecorating, re-concepting, service training, and recipe and menu development— we reopened with a new concept.

Our primary goal, from day one, was to retain all the current team members. We paid them through the entire two-week shutdown, and I am proud to say that we were able to keep every member of the team employed. That made this opening a little easier than most, but when you get down to it, everything is new because we brought in new recipes, new menu items, new cocktails, new systems of service, new point of sales systems, and new culture. Ultimately, it’s a new deal.

The restaurant is named after my friend, Enzo Corti, who lives in the small town of Barberino-Tavarnelle in the heart of the Chianti region of Tuscany. Enzo is a fourth-generation wine and olive oil merchant who embodies everything I love about Italian food and culture. We have patterned our restaurant— and its approach— after his zest for living, exuberant charm, and infectious personality.

The food at Enzo is part American-Italian and part authentic Italian. I decided to pare down the inaugural menu due to all the restaurant-opening reasons I stated above. We’ll start off with limited offerings and work our way into a more extensive menu. The main items we will be adding in the coming weeks will be more authentic Italian dishes. Many of those dishes are ones I learned during my travels to Italy. Some came from my son who worked as a chef over there, and others I learned from restaurateurs across the country, but mostly in Tuscany.

I am tired. At 60, I don’t quite have the stamina I did when I was in my 20s. But that’s not going to stop me. I do, however, believe I work smarter these days. I don’t know how many more restaurant openings I have in me, but we have a few more concepts in the works and even more on the drawing board. We want to keep creating opportunities for our team members to advance and move up.

In the end, I consider myself fortunate to have found a career that is also my hobby. It’s not work to me, it’s just what I love to do. I am weary, but more importantly, I am grateful, and I am blessed.

Onward.

Porcini Mushroom Soup

3 quarts Mushroom stock, heated
8 TB Unsalted butter, divided
¼ cup All-purpose flour
¼ lb. Dry porcini mushrooms (soaked and reserved from the mushroom stock recipe)
½ cup Shallots, minced
2 TB Brandy
2 TB Kosher salt, divided
½ TB Ground white pepper
1 TB Fresh thyme, chopped
2 TB Sherry vinegar

In a one gallon stock pot, melt 4 TB of the butter over medium heat. Once melted, add the flour and whisk constantly to combine thoroughly and prevent scorching, about 2 minutes. Slowly add the heated mushroom stock 1 cup at a time, combining thoroughly each time until all the stock has been added. Continue to heat this on medium-low, stirring occasionally, until it has reduced to 2 quarts.

Meanwhile, melt the remaining 4 TB of butter over medium heat. Add the shallot and stir until softened, about 2-3 minutes. Add the mushrooms, 1 TB salt, white pepper and thyme and continue cooking for 6 minutes. Deglaze with the brandy and continue stirring until brandy has cooked out completely, about 3-4 minutes.

Transfer this mixture to a food processor and pulse for 1-2 minutes. Return to the pot with the reduced stock and bring to a simmer for 10 minutes. Puree this mixture until smooth with a stick blender or in the food processor. Finish with remaining 1 TB salt and the sherry vinegar.

Yield: 1 gallon

Robert St. John is a chef, restaurateur and cookbook author.

When I make Crock Pot Carnitas (pork roast, a chopped onion, and Pampered Chef Carnitas Seasoning), I always have leftovers.  We usually make nachos or tacos one night and sandwiches the next.  I wanted something different, and this recipe was exactly it.

This is no different from a typical taco soup, but you’re using excellently seasoned meat and adding all the regular taco soup goodness to it.  Stick it in your slow cooker and let it come together all day on low.

Ingredients

1 pound cooked pulled pork (I use leftovers from Crock Pot Carnitas)
1 can pinto beans with jalapenos, drained
1 can black beans, drained
1 can Rotel, undrained
1 package Ranch dressing mix
1 package taco seasoning
1 cup frozen corn
5 cups chicken broth
Toppings:  sour cream, shredded cheddar cheese, cilantro, jalapeños

Directions

Heat all on the stove on low or in a crock pot.  Garnish with desired toppings.

Enjoy! https://thecopperwhisk.com/blogs/recipes/carnitas-taco-soup

Ashley Madden Rowton is a wife, mom, and contributor to Webster Parish, Natchitoches Parish, and Shreveport-Bossier journals, as well as a published cookbook author.

By Robert St. John

Forty years ago, I worked my first shift in a restaurant. It was almost the first hour, of the first shift of the first day that I discovered what I wanted to do with the rest of my life— open a restaurant. That is not an exaggeration or oversimplification. The restaurant bug hit me instantly. Within a matter of days my life goal was set.

At 20 years old I had just flunked out of college and had returned to my hometown of Hattiesburg, tail tucked between my legs, and embarrassed because most of my friends were exceling in college and getting closer to their future goals. At that time, I had no goals. I had worked as a disc jockey at a radio station all through high school. When my college advisor asked what I wanted to major in I unenthusiastically and hesitantly replied, “communications?” At 17-years-old, it was all I knew. That was my skillset. That, and how to play football, mow yards, and drink beer.

Flunking out of college ended up being a blessing because it drove me into the restaurant business. From that day forward I set my sights on one goal— opening my own restaurant.

It took six years, but I eventually did it. I went back to college and worked full time in two restaurants while taking 18 and 21 hours a semester, and full loads in summer school. I was all-consumed with the restaurant business and spent my spare time between classes in the library reading the restaurant trade magazines trying to absorb everything I could from the industry. After dinner shifts as a server, I stayed up many nights until 3:00 a.m. designing potential future kitchens and menus and complete concepts, even. I couldn’t get enough.

I was 26 years old when I opened the first restaurant. That’s all I really wanted. Just one. My life’s goal was to own my own restaurant so I could wear T-shirts and shorts to work every day. I didn’t want much out of life. Though I can tell you sitting here at 60, I still wear shorts and/or T-shirts to work almost every day. Goal achieved.

The restaurant business brings with it many subsets, genres, and talent skills. Early on I was a working chef in the kitchen. Again, one of the seemingly worst things that ever happened was that my business partner and I fired our chef opening night. It, too, was a blessing. It forced me to get back into the kitchen. I spent the next four years working 90 hours a week learning how to cook and run a professional kitchen. I paid myself $250.00 a week, but the dirty secret is that— if I would have had any money— I would have paid someone to let me do it. I look back at those times as my halcyon days in this business. I didn’t need much, just that restaurant. I had a blast. I lived in a one-room garage apartment behind my grandmother’s house until I was 30 years old. It was all about the restaurant.

After four years, I started working my way out of the kitchen and into overall management of the company. We had opened a couple of more restaurants at that point and— even though I still consider myself a pretty good cook— I’m not formally trained and almost anyone on the line at any of our restaurants can cook circles around me. My talents lie in food development, décor, concept design, imaging, branding, and marketing. And that’s pretty much what I do today.

As a matter of fact, that’s exactly what I am doing today because my business partner, Jarred Patterson, COO of New South Restaurant Group, and I are in the process of opening an Italian restaurant in Ridgeland, Miss. It’s a very interesting and unique deal for me as in four decades and over two dozen restaurants opened, I have never encountered a situation such as this. We are taking over a restaurant— Biaggi’s— currently in operation, tables, chairs, cooking equipment, glasses, forks, and silverware all intact, even the employees and the management are in place. Our job is to oversee the complete and total overhaul of the menu, food development, service standards, and design of our “new” restaurant.

From the second I touched down in Tuscany in 2011 I knew I wanted to open an Italian restaurant in the Jackson, Miss., area. I had opened an Italian restaurant in Hattiesburg before I ever set foot on Italian soil. Six months later I was covering the Italian countryside from the southernmost tip of Sicily to the Dolomites. It was during that period that I started thinking about what to do in the Jackson area.

These days I spend approximately three months a year working in Italy, touring people through different parts of that country and turning them on to authentic Italian food in locals-only, out-of-the-way places that tourists typically never visit.

Our new restaurant, Enzo, will be named after my good friend in Tuscany, Enzo Corti, who bottles olive oil and wine and owns the villas in which we stay. Enzo Osteria (pronounced Oh-stir-ee-uh, basically a casual Italian tavern) will feature the American-Italian food we are used to over here. But half of the menu will be filled with many of the authentic Italian dishes I’ve learned over the last 11 years in Italian restaurant kitchens and Tuscan home kitchens throughout the country. There are some physical changes we will make to the building— mainly creating a stand-alone bar and cocktail lounge separate from the dining room— after we take possession of the building on September 7^th.

We are blessed to have an already staffed restaurant. This will be my third restaurant to open in the post-COVID period. The first two were such challenges that we are still trying to hire enough personnel to cover basic shifts. At Enzo the staff is in place. We just need to train them to our service standards and teach the kitchen crew our recipes.

The location is perfect. When the Renaissance center was being developed, I was approached to open a Crescent City Grill and Mahogany Bar on the exact spot Enzo will be located. A company was formed, the plans were drawn up, and then the 2008 financial crisis hit. My partner was still ready to go ahead with the project. But I wanted my entree into the Jackson area to be the best it could be. So, I decided to wait.

We opened the Fondren project back in February and Enzo will open around the first of October.

I am knee deep into what I do best— concept design, décor, menu development, imaging, and branding. I love this business. I love that I’ve gotten to a point in my career where I can focus on the things that I do best.

A bonus is that my daughter— an interior designer— is working alongside me on the changeover. My son, who spent the first six months of this year cooking in Italy, is bringing many of the recipes he learned over there before he heads off to the Culinary Institute of America, where he will study to become a chef. He will eventually come back into the fold, but he leaves us with a great legacy of authentic Italian recipes that I will add to the ones I have learned over the years. Working with my children in the business that I love so dearly is a singular and unique joy to me, and one I never expected.

Here we go!
Onward!

Roasted Tomato Soup

Perfect on a cold day with a soft-cheese Panini.

10 lbs. Roma tomatoes
¼ c.   Bacon fat
3 c.    Onion, diced
¼ c.   Minced garlic
1 TB Dried basil
1 TB Dried oregano

1 TB Kosher salt
2 tsp  Fresh ground black pepper
1 ea   6 oz. can tomato paste
4 c.    Chicken stock
1 ea.  Bay leaf    
1 c.    Heavy cream
1 TB Sherry vinegar

Preheat oven to 400.

Lightly coat the tomatoes with vegetable oil and place on a baking sheet in the oven for 30-45 minutes, turning them every 10 minutes. Remove from oven when the skin begins to crack and the tomatoes are soft.  Allow to cool just enough to handle and remove and discard the skins.

In a stockpot, sauté onions in the bacon fat for 8-10 minutes over medium-high heat, stirring frequently.  Add garlic, basil, oregano, salt and pepper and continue stirring for another 4-5 minutes. Add tomato paste and stir constantly for 5-6 minutes until caramelized, being careful not to burn.

Add Chicken stock, roasted tomatoes and bay leaf and bring to a simmer for 30 minutes.  Remove the bay leaf and add cream and sherry vinegar and simmer for 10 more minutes.

Puree until smooth using an immersion blender or in small batches in a countertop blender.

Yield: 1 gallon

Robert St. John is a chef, restaurateur and cookbook author

School is starting back for the kiddos, and that means all hands on deck to make it as easy as possible!  What that means for me is planning suppers we are happy to sit down and eat together at the end of the day as well as breakfast the boys actually want to eat.  Don’t get me wrong, we love a cereal or Pop Tart morning just like most others, but baking something like these Orange Breakfast Muffins makes me feel as if I’ve contributed to their day a little bit better than that strawberry Pop Tart will.

These are really so so good.  I love a muffin that can hold a taste and not taste just like crumbs after a day.  This recipe is definitely that!  I hope you will try them and enjoy them!

Muffins

• 1 3/4 cup flour
• 2/3 cup sugar
• 1 tablespoon baking powder
• 1/2 teaspoon salt
• 1/2 cup butter, melted
• 1 cup sour cream
• 1 large egg
• 1/4 cup orange juice
• Zest of 1 orange
• 1/4 teaspoon almond extract

Glaze

• 1 1/2 cups powdered sugar
• 1/4 cup orange juice
• 2 teaspoons orange zest

Directions

Preheat the oven to 400 degrees. Line a muffin tin with paper liners. 
In a large bowl whisk together flour, sugar, baking powder, and salt.

In another bowl whisk together the butter, sour cream, egg, orange juice, orange zest, and almond extract. Whisk well.

Add wet ingredients to dry ingredients. Stir with a wooden spoon until combined. Fill muffin tins. Bake 16-18 minutes. 

Meanwhile, make the glaze. Whisk powdered sugar with orange juice and orange zest. After muffins are done let them cool for 10 minutes before topping with glaze.

*Adapted from Damn Delicious.  Shared originally by Emily Porter.

Ashley Madden Rowton is a wife, mom, and contributor to Webster Parish, Natchitoches Parish, and Shreveport-Bossier journals, as well as a published cookbook author.

Bonjour, mes amis! Tonight we soar across the Atlantic and dare to take on an amazing French dish: coq au vin. 

Coq au vin is another staple in our household, particularly when it’s cold outside and we have a little extra red wine around the house. (And if my mother-in-law or pastor is reading this, it’s, uh, just Welch’s Grape Juice). It also makes enough servings to warrant having some friends over to enjoy together. 

And can you guess which part of the chicken we’re using? If you’ve been reading this article weekly, you already know: thighs, baby. 

This recipe is certainly a labor of love, but the steps are easy to follow in the recipe linked below. This one has a video to boot. 

For starters, you’ll create three separate fonds with bacon fat, chicken fat, and chicken broth. Once that’s up to speed, you’ll add shallots, mushrooms and skin on, bone-in thighs next. 

Lastly, be sure to find a Burgundy for your red wine. I won’t steer you on brand, but treat yourself if you’re able. You’ll have enough to go around as well. 

I love this recipe. Find a baguette at your local bakery, and whip up some mashed russet potatoes as a starch to pair well for the meal. 

Merci beaucoup. Jouissez vous, et bon appetit. 

Ingredients 

8 oz sliced bacon
6 bone-in, skin-on chicken thighs 
2 shallots, sliced 
1/2 large yellow onion, diced (traditionally they use pearl onions) 
10 large button mushrooms, quartered 
2 tsp butter 
2 tsp flour 
1 1/2 cups red wine 
1 cup chicken broth 
6 springs thyme 
salt and pepper to taste 

Directions 

Coq au vin recipe here. 

By Robert St. John

We are a nation of regional dining concepts and local dishes. Chicago has deep-dish pizza parlors. New Orleans has po-boy shops. Ohio has chili parlors. Maine has lobster shacks. South Florida has crab shacks. Maryland also has crab shacks (there are a lot of shacks in regional dining). Oyster bars are scattered across the Gulf states, and barbeque concepts are spread across the South. You’ll find vinegar-based barbeque in North Carolina, sweet sauce in Georgia, spicy sauce in Tennessee, white sauce in Alabama, and almost all that sauce will be slathered on pork. In Texas beef brisket is king. Most of the best barbeque in those areas is served— again— in shacks.

Mississippi certainly has its share of good barbeque. We also have great po-boy shops in the southern part of the state, and oyster bars dotted all along the Coast. But if I were asked what defines local Mississippi cuisine— hands down— it would be catfish.

The primary and most unique regional dining concept in my home state is the goshalmighty catfish house.

It makes sense. Catfish is a major agricultural crop in Mississippi, and we’ll eat almost anything if you dunk it in enough hot grease.

I love catfish houses. I consider myself a connoisseur of catfish houses and have a 60-year track record of dining in them. For those reading this column outside of the south, it’s hard to drive 20 miles in any direction in this state without passing at least one catfish house (and several dollar stores). All catfish houses are slightly different in their menu offerings, but there are several universal and key components that are shared among all of them. They will all offer fried catfish filets as their primary menu item. The best catfish houses will offer whole catfish as well.

The catfish is not battered like New England-based fish— which probably originates from the British version of fish and chips— but lightly dusted in cornmeal, and sometimes with a touch of corn flour thrown in to make the crust lighter. Catfish will always be served with hushpuppies, French fries, and coleslaw.

The slaw will almost always be on the sweeter side and— many times— served first as an appetizer. I like to eat mine with Captain’s Wafers crackers. Other restaurants will serve hushpuppies first. Again, for those column readers above the Mason-Dixon line, hushpuppies are fried balls of cornmeal (I told you we love to fry) and are basically a cornmeal fritter.

Many catfish houses keep the menu simple and stop there. Most will offer fried shrimp and/or fried chicken. Others have extensive menu offerings, and several give away free ice cream for dessert. One thing is for certain, sweet tea will be the main beverage sold. And I’m talking about tea sweetened with so much sugar that the spoon almost stands on its own at the bottom of the glass. My rule for restaurants that offer sweet tea is that if you are in a state that has a team in the Southeastern Conference, you’ll be able to order sweet tea in a restaurant. If you are in a state that has two teams in the SEC— Tennessee, Alabama, and Mississippi— you’ll get the sweetest of sweet teas.

I don’t like catfish cooked any other way than fried. If I want grilled or broiled fish, I’ll cook a species out of the Gulf. Though I never fry Gulf fish. Catfish is the only fish I’ll fry.

My earliest memory of a catfish house was a place called Mixon’s just South of my hometown of Hattiesburg. My grandfather loved to celebrate his birthday there. They offered fried catfish and the usual suspects, coleslaw, French fries, but also made some of the best baked beans I have ever eaten. My grandfather took me on a father-son overnight canoe trip with several other father-son pairings, and the owner of Mixon’s catfish house drove deep into the woods to our campsite and served a catfish dinner. To this day, that is the best— and most memorable— catfish meal I have ever eaten.

I once owned a catfish house. Those days operating the 589 Family Fish House were some of the most fun periods in my restaurant career. In addition to catfish filets and whole catfish, we offered thin filets (a practice first used at Middendorf’s in Manchac, Louisiana). We served everything family style, including the typical supporting cast of characters, and had excellent hushpuppies, coleslaw, pickled onions, and fries, but we also sent servers throughout the dining room with complimentary turnip greens, fried okra, baked beans, and yeast rolls. September 11, 2001, changed the dining dynamic in the area where we were located and I packed everything up, put it in storage, and vowed to re-open one day. Who knows what the future holds?

Most Mississippi catfish houses offer an all-you-can-eat catfish menu option. This is not strange to those of us who grew up down here. Though one time I took a New York photographer who was in town shooting one of my cookbooks to a catfish house and I noticed him staring bug-eyed at the menu murmuring softly to himself, “All you can eat? All you can eat?” He looked up from the menu and asked, “You mean they just keep bringing it to you? How can they do that?”

“Buddy,” I said, “They’re not worried about a little fella like you. They’ve been here for more than 50 years. They know what they’re doing.” In addition to our restaurants, I always take our out-of-town guests to a catfish house. It’s always a true “Mississippi” experience.

A catfish house that doesn’t serve farm-raised Mississippi catfish should be immediately eliminated from consideration. You would be surprised at the number of places selling the imported Vietnamese knockoff species, basa, and calling it catfish. Always ask your favorite fish house what they are buying.

My local go-to catfish house in Hattiesburg is Rayner’s on Highway 49 North. I’ve been eating there for at least half a century. But recently, I have been spending a lot of time just outside of Purvis, Mississippi, and have rediscovered what I believe to be the best catfish house in the state— Cuevas’ Fish House.

To my taste, Cuevas is king of the hill when it comes to Mississippi catfish houses. They are located on the main drag in Purvis and just up the hill from what the locals call “Dollar Holler” a grouping of all three Dollar stores— Dollar General, Family Dollar, and Dollar Tree— next door to each other. Cuevas is big and busy. There’s a reason they’re busy— they’re good, and they’re good on all fronts, food quality and service. I went twice in the same week last week. The fish is fresh farm-raised Simmons catfish and is fried perfectly. The hushpuppies are even better. They also have excellent fried onion rings, and the most efficient service I have ever experienced in a catfish house.

They stay very busy, but our dining experiences— from the greeting we received at the front door, to the extremely friendly, fast, and efficient service at the table, to the quality if the food— have been stellar. Seriously, my visits to Cuevas have been the best overall experiences I’ve ever had at a catfish house, and I’ve been to hundreds (including my own).

Kudos to former elementary-school-principal-turned-restaurateur Jackie Cuevas. In a state with hundreds of catfish houses, she’s at the top, in my opinion. Jackie Cuevas runs a tight ship, and everyone who works there seems to enjoy the environment. They will see me again, often.

Onward.

Daddy B’s Hushpuppies

1 cup White Corn Meal
1 ½ Medium white onion, grated

½ Green Bell Pepper, small dice
1 Heaping Tablespoon Salt
2 teaspoons Black Pepper
1 cup All-Purpose Martha White Flour
2 Tablespoons Baking Powder
2 Eggs
1/3 cup Warm Water

The night before preparation, in a mixing bowl, add corn meal, onion, bell pepper, salt, and pepper and mix well. Place in the refrigerator overnight.

To Prepare:

Heat oil in a cast iron skillet, Dutch oven, or deep fryer to 350 degrees.

Remove the bowl of cornmeal-onion mix from the refrigerator. Allow to sit at room temperature for 15 minutes. Add flour, baking powder, eggs, and water. Stir gently and let sit 3-5 minutes.

Using a spoon or scoop (about the size, or slightly smaller than a golf ball), drop batter into hot oil. Cook, turning once, until golden brown.

Drain on paper towels.

Yield: 30 hushpuppies (recipe can be doubled or tripled for large groups)

Robert St. John is a chef, restaurateur and cookbook author

By Robert St. John

Last week I spent seven days in the Florida Panhandle on “vacation.” I used the word “vacation” because that is the easy, go-to, and common nomenclature one uses when describing time off from work. The problem with using that term is that I never really take time off from work. I’m not complaining, I like it that way. I love what I do. I don’t fish, hunt, play golf, or gamble. I love restaurants, food, and the restaurant business. If I have any hobbies I would have to state— other than the restaurant business, which is also my hobby— that movies, music, and football are what I enjoy in my pastime. But I am a spectator in all those activities. I am an active player in the restaurant business.

My vacations are a little different than most. I don’t vacation well. I take the family to the beach once a year. My son and daughter each bring a few friends and they all spend most days on the beach. My wife typically reads a book and does the things that one needs to do to take care of a lot of people crammed into a vacation home.

I never go to the Florida Panhandle without thinking about the two times I lived down there in my youth. The first time was in the spring of 1983, and I worked at a pizza/barbecue restaurant for several months. Those were during my wilder days, and I had yet to stop partying and settle down. My second stint in Destin was in 1987. I was four years sober and on the verge of opening my first restaurant. I was very serious about the restaurant business though life had a different pace.

My kids are sick of hearing all the stories about my early days in the Panhandle. As soon as I start to spout out a remembrance it’s quickly interrupted, “We know, dad. You lived at Sandpiper Cove. You got up every day went to the beach. You went to work. You went out at night. We know. We know. We’ve heard it all before.” This time I didn’t bore them with war stories from my glory days in the restaurant business in Destin. But I did do a lot of thinking about those days and how formative they were in my current situation.

In those days I could sleep late. These days if I’m still awake at 7:00 a.m. something’s wrong. I typically wake up at 5:00 a.m. But back then I could sleep until 10:00 a.m. or 11 even. I would wake up in my apartment— which was a two-bedroom, two-bath, fully furnished spot on the beach for $500.00 a month— walk down to the beach, head to my favorite little breakfast joint, June’s Dunes (even in those days I never missed breakfast). Then I would lie on the beach until mid-afternoon, shower, dress, go to work as a server at Harbor Docks, make good money, go home, shower, go back out to hear music or visit with friends, then sleep, rinse, wash, repeat. In those days I had the stress level of a piece of driftwood.

Last week I thought about my beach schedule in 1987 versus my vacation schedule of 2022. These days I get up between 5 and 6 a.m., shower, dress, find a breakfast joint that is open at 7 a.m., eat breakfast, attend a 12-step recovery meeting at 8 a.m., followed by a 9 a.m. breakfast if I couldn’t find a 7 a.m. place open. Then I head back to the house where my wife is typically awake (but everyone else is asleep), visit with her as she makes breakfast for the kids (who end up waking up around 11 a.m.). Once they have gone to the beach, I either hop on a bike or back in my truck to drive around and check out other restaurants.

Again, restaurants are my hobby. After a few hours of R&D I pick my wife up and we go to lunch at a restaurant I have scouted out, preferably with a beach view as neither of us are into lying in the hot sand. After lunch we’ll shop or I will take her back to read a book or nap. I will drive around and check out even more restaurants. I know it sounds monotonous but it’s relaxing to me. R&D is my R&R.

If we go to the beach, it’s typically after 6 p.m. We are the vampire family. Everyone else is coming in off the beach, sunburned and inebriated, and we are stone-cold sober and fish-belly white heading down to sit in a chair to watch the sun set. We have plenty of food to eat in the vacation house we rent because my wife always overbuys groceries for the trip, and we typically go out to dinner (because — once again — I’m in the restaurant business and I love restaurants). We get home around 10 p.m. and the kids typically go back out. I’m in bed and asleep by 11 p.m., only to get up rinse, wash, repeat, and do it all over again the next day.

That may not sound relaxing to most people. But it’s the only way I can do it. I’m extremely hyperactive and don’t do well sitting in one place. I just don’t do well lounging in someone else’s home while there are undiscovered restaurants in the area.

While on vacation, we usually bring a lot of groceries from home. Actually, we bring way too many groceries from home. Our intentions are good. We plan to have dinners and lunches in the rental home, but we rarely follow through on that plan. We go out to restaurants because that is what we do, though we still find ourselves at the grocery store a few times during the week to buy more food. We always come home with more groceries than we brought down. It’s baffling. But it’s also the nature of our family dynamic. We are a restaurant family. Always have been. Always will be.

Onward.

Cilantro Spiked Corn, Crab, and Avocado Dip

Corn, crab, and avocado work well when paired together in a cold offering. The cilantro adds an additional coolness which makes this the perfect summer dip.

3 Tbl lime juice, freshly squeezed
2 Tbl Tequila
1 /4 cup olive oil
1 tsp salt
3 avocados
1 1 /2 cup fresh cooked corn, cut from the cob (use frozen kernels if fresh is not available)
2 Tbl red bell pepper, finely diced
1 tsp garlic, minced
1 /4 cup onion, finely chopped
1 cup fresh lump crab meat, picked of all shell
1 /8 tsp cayenne pepper
1 Tbl hot sauce
1 Tbl fresh chopped cilantro

Combine tequila, lime juice, olive oil, salt, hot sauce and cayenne pepper in a mixing bowl.

Peel and small dice the avocado, quickly placing the avocado in the lime juice mixture and tossing well so avocado is well coated.

Fold in remaining ingredients.

Robert St. John is a chef, restaurateur and cookbook author

Supper idea via Delish. I LOVED it. The boys thought eh?, but that’s because they don’t like sundried tomatoes. Little do they know, sundried tomatoes are one of life’s greatest pleasures! I love them in anything and everything. I couldn’t convince them otherwise so they ate just the chicken and no delicious saucy goodness. Their loss. Totally leave them out if you’re like my crew.

You know we are huge fans of cast iron skillet meals.  This one always stays at the top of that list.

Ingredients

• 1 tablespoon olive oil
• 2 tablespoons butter
• 6 bone-in skin-on chicken thighs
• Kosher salt
• Black pepper
• 4 cloves garlic, minced
• 1 tablespoon fresh thyme leaves (or 1/2 teaspoon dried thyme)
• 1 teaspoon crushed red pepper flakes
• 3/4 cup chicken broth
• 1/2 cup heavy cream
• 1/2 cup chopped sun-dried tomatoes
• 1/3 cup freshly grated Parmesan
• Freshly torn basil, for serving

Directions

Preheat the oven to 375 degrees.  In a large oven-safe skillet over medium-high heat, heat oil and butter.  Season chicken generously with salt and pepper.  Sear, skin side down, until golden, about 4-5 minutes per side.  Transfer chicken to a plate covered with a paper towel.

Add garlic, thyme, and red pepper flakes to the skillet.  Cook until fragrant, about 1 minute.  Stir in broth, heavy cream, tomatoes, and Parmesan.  Season with more salt and pepper.  Bring to a simmer, then return chicken to skillet, skin side up.

Transfer skillet to oven and bake until chicken is cooked through, 20 minutes.

Garnish with basil and serve.

*Recipe from Delish.

(Ashley Madden Rowton is a wife, mom and cookbook author.)

By Kelsey Horath

There is something special about pulling out ingredients and cooking with a loved one. Between the whole process of cooking the meal, setting the table and enjoying the night’s creations, cooking might become one the favorite date time activities.

Cailee Fruge and her fiancée Caleb Whitten have taken nights out of the week to cook together for the last two years.

“Caleb and I began dating during the COVID shut down in 2020, so many of the restaurants were closed,” Fruge said. “That’s one reason we started cooking.”

Since applying these cooking dates into their schedule, Fruge and Whitten have found many perks to cooking at home like saving money and quality time.

“Cooking at one of our homes means saving money, while spending quality time together,” Fruge said. “Cooking together provides us the opportunity to be with each other and not get distracted by life.”

Allowing time to simply cook a meal with another presents some many opportunities to relax, unwind and have a meaningful conversation.

Brandi and Todd Whitlock cook together still after 14 years of marriage and three children later. This special time set aside at night to cook has always been a priority for the two.

“Cooking together really involves so many aspects that you need in a marriage,” Brandi Whitlock said. “We have had to learn to work together and we have to communicate with one another when making meals together.”

Brandi Whitlock said they have also learned each other’s strengths and weaknesses by cooking together and know who is best suited for each job in the cooking process.

“All these skills have helped our marriage become stronger,” Brandi Whitlock said.

As time passes and life moves forward, more events and activities will be added to the schedule and life will remain hectic. However, making cooking a priority will help ease the stress of a long day and give you time to reflect with someone you love.

“I know life is going to get busier whether it be with careers or kids but cooking together will help us have a definite time we can be together,” Fruge said. “It provides us an opportunity to be intentional about communicating about our days or each other.”

Fun fact: I only follow two people on Instagram.

First is my wonderful wife. Because she regularly posts pictures of our kids, it’s an easy way for me to show family photos on the go should the opportunity arise (and when you’ve been blessed with two cute kids, it’s pretty frequent).

The second is a magnificent food social media account titled “Half-Baked Harvest.” Judith discovered this site when we were cooking far more at home during the onset of the coronavirus pandemic. We’ve made appetizers, desserts, entrees, mixed drinks – you name it, and HBH hits a home run every dang time. After three years of following her recipes, I do not share this lightly: we have not had one meal that we did not like.

The recipe I’ll highlight for you today should be an appetizer. However, for my wife and I, its richness turned it into a full meal for us both. No regrets whatsoever- it was divine and only took a moderate effort of prep.

If you’re familiar with Caprese salad, you know the primary ingredients already: tomato, basil, olive oil, balsamic vinaigrette, and of course, fresh pulled mozzarella. For today’s recipe, we will introduce you to burrata cheese, which is mozzarella in its finest evolved form.

Burrata (which is thankfully available here in Ruston; I hear that it’s not as easy to find in some of our surrounding areas) is mozzarella with extra cream added. It turns an already amazing cheese into an even creamier version that is both firm yet spreadable, which when layered over garlic ciabatta bread will send it way over the edge with the rest of the Caprese mix. Lastly, cooked prosciutto slices add another crispy and delightfully salty element to top it all off.

As I said, this turned into a full meal for us. But you’ll wow your friends if you cut the ciabatta bread into smaller portions and top it with the burrata and Caprese mixture. From a prepping perspective, the moderate effort was by far worth the finished product. And I assure you, as good as it looks plated (see below), it does not do the taste justice.

Instead of typing out the recipe for you, it would be much easier to link it here. This blog deserves a follow on social media if you have the chance, as well. I can tell you from experience: it’s worth it.

As always, thanks for reading! I hope you enjoy.