A Love Affair with Southern Cooking (12 page)

PINE BARK STEW

MAKES
6
SERVINGS

On a visit to Florence, South Carolina, in 1909, President William Howard Taft was served a bowl of Pine Bark Stew “and pronounced it good.” So says the
WPA South Carolina Guide
(a Depression project launched to assist down-on-their-luck writers, artists, and photographers). In describing the stew, the
Guide
points out that it “contains no pine bark, but is a highly seasoned concoction of fish in tomato sauce.” Stories abound as to the origin of this fish muddle, or more specifically, to the origin of its unusual name. I favor the one involving Revolutionary War commander Francis Marion (“the Swamp Fox”), whose troops holed up in the South Carolina Lowcountry and harassed the Redcoats with relentless raids. Marion’s militia is said to have caught the makings of this stew in creeks and inlets, cooked it over campfires, and served it in bowls improvised of pine bark. I’ve seen bark peeled from pine saplings just the way cork is stripped from oaks in Portugal, and it seems entirely plausible that these canoe-shaped slabs could serve as soup bowls. Some food historians say “piffle,” insisting that pine bark was used to fuel the fire over which the stew simmered. Others suggest that the stew’s pine-bark color gave rise to its name. That seems unlikely because this stew is rosy. I like to think that a bit of resinous bark slipped into the stew by accident improved its flavor and from then on became an integral ingredient. As you might suspect, there are countless versions of Pine Bark Stew. One in my possession calls for
bream, bacon, onions, a full bottle of ketchup, a little vinegar for tartness, some sugar to temper the tartness, ground cloves, and cinnamon, plus peppers both red and black. The ketchup put me off of that recipe. This one seems more authentic. Note:
If you use catfish, make sure that they are home-grown; so many of the catfish now coming to market are from South Vietnam’s polluted Mekong Delta.

6 ounces salt pork or slab bacon, cut into fine dice

1 large yellow onion, coarsely chopped

2 large all-purpose potatoes, peeled and cut into 1-inch cubes

2 large whole bay leaves, preferably fresh

1 teaspoon salt, or to taste

¼ teaspoon black pepper, or to taste

¼ teaspoon ground hot red pepper (cayenne), or to taste

6 bream, bass, catfish, or brook trout fillets (about 2 pounds) (see Note above)

3 cups boiling water

2 medium-large firm-ripe tomatoes, peeled, cored, seeded, and coarsely chopped or 1½ cups canned crushed tomatoes

• 1.
  Cook the salt pork in a large, heavy kettle over moderately high heat for 8 to 10 minutes or until crisp and brown; using a slotted spoon, scoop to paper toweling and reserve.
  
• 2.
  Add the onion to the kettle drippings and cook, stirring often, for about 5 minutes or until limp and lightly browned. Add the potatoes, cover, reduce the heat to moderately low, and “sweat” for about 10 minutes or until the potatoes are beginning to soften.
  
• 3.
  Mix in the bay leaves, salt, and two peppers, then lay the fish on top of the potato-onion mixture. Pour in the boiling water, then the tomatoes, and bring to a boil. Adjust the heat so the stew bubbles gently, cover, and cook for about 10 minutes or until the fish barely flakes. Taste the stew for salt, black and red pepper, and adjust as needed; discard the bay leaves.
  Note:
  Southerners cook pine bark stew for 30 minutes or more, but I’m not fond of falling-apart fish.
  
• 4.
  Using a slotted spatula, place a fish fillet in each of six heated soup bowls. Ladle the kettle mixture on top, sprinkle each portion with some of the reserved salt pork, and serve with Iron Skillet Corn Bread or Hush Puppies.
  

Although [Mary Randolph] and her husband were both of the Virginia elite, they suffered financial problems…and ultimately opened a boarding house. If it were not for these reverses, she might never have written a cookbook at all. Or, if she had, it might have focused on a richer, more patrician cuisine.

—
JOHN THORNE
,
SIMPLE COOKING
(
ON MARY RANDOLPH’S
THE VIRGINIA HOUSE-WIFE
,
THE FIRST SOUTHERN COOKBOOK
)

ROCK MUDDLE

MAKES
4
TO
6
SERVINGS

Captain John Smith, nosing the
Susan Constant
into Chesapeake Bay in 1607, was awed by the schools of striped bass. After settling at Jamestown, he noted, “The Basse is an excellent Fish, both fresh and salte…There are such multitudes that I have seene stopped close in the river adjoining to my house with a sande at one tyde so many as will loade a ship of 100 tonnes.” To Bankers (those living on the Atlantic’s southern barrier islands), a striped bass is better known as a rock or rockfish. In his
Encyclopedia of Fish Cookery,
A. J. McClane writes, “The striped bass is an anadromous fish like the salmon, a saltwater inhabitant dependent upon fresh water rivers for its reproduction.” He goes on to say that the striped bass is especially common between Cape Cod and South Carolina. On North Carolina’s Outer Banks, the most popular way to prepare rock is in a muddle—what New Englanders would call a chowder. It’s a humble dish beloved by fishermen, who sometimes boil it up right on the beach. Rock Muddle is so closely associated with the North Carolina coast that
The North Carolina Guide,
first published during the Great Depression by the WPA and now updated, includes it in its section on Food and Drink. “Fish muddles,” the
Guide
begins, “are popular in the coastal plain, particularly when the rock are running in the Roanoke. A muddle,” it continues, “is a stew made of various kinds of fish seasoned with fried fat meat, onions, potatoes, and pepper. At least it starts off
that way.” Needless to add, recipes vary significantly. Some call for tomatoes, others don’t. Some begin by rendering salt pork, others by “trying out” bacon. Newer recipes are often spiked with ketchup and/or Worcestershire sauce, but I prefer this old-fashioned muddle devoid of heavy seasoning.

4 ounces slab bacon or salt pork, cut into ¼-inch dice

1 large yellow onion, coarsely chopped

3 medium-size all-purpose potatoes, peeled and cut into ½-inch dice

4 cups water (about)

1 teaspoon salt, or to taste

½ teaspoon black pepper, or to taste

4 pounds rockfish (striped bass), dressed, skinned, and cut into 1½-to 2-inch chunks

• 1.
  Fry the bacon in a large nonreactive kettle over moderate heat for 12 to 15 minutes or until all drippings cook out and only browned bits remain. Scoop the bacon to paper toweling and reserve.
  
• 2.
  Add the onion to the drippings, raise the heat to moderately high, and cook, stirring often, for about 10 minutes or until limp and touched with brown. Add the potatoes, water, salt, and pepper; bring to a boil, then adjust the heat so the liquid bubbles gently. Cover and cook for 10 to 15 minutes or until the potatoes are nearly tender.
  
• 3.
  Add the fish, cover, and simmer for about 10 minutes or until the fish almost flakes at the touch of a fork; it will break apart as it cooks. If the mixture seems thick, thin with a little additional water. Taste for salt and pepper and adjust as needed.
  
• 4.
  Ladle into heated soup bowls, scatter a little of the reserved bacon over each portion, and serve with soda crackers, biscuits, or corn bread.
  

REDFISH COURT BOUILLON

MAKES
8
SERVINGS

To classically trained chefs, a court bouillon is an aromatic broth used to cook fish, shellfish, assorted meats, and vegetables. My copy of
The New Larousse Gastronomique
offers nineteen different recipes for court bouillon but none remotely similar to the redfish court bouillon so popular in Mississippi and Louisiana. The recipe here is fairly typical although I’ve halved the amount of bacon drippings. Cajuns, particularly fond of court bouillon, cook it half the day to intensify the flavors. I’ve shortened the time and I still find this version plenty flavorful. Note:
If you use catfish, make sure that they are home-grown; so many of the catfish now coming to market are from South Vietnam’s polluted Mekong Delta. If redfish, red snapper, and catfish are all unavailable, try tilapia. It works well here.

3 tablespoons bacon drippings or vegetable oil

1 large yellow onion, coarsely chopped

1 large green bell pepper, cored, seeded, and coarsely chopped

2 large celery ribs, trimmed and coarsely chopped

6 large scallions, trimmed and thinly sliced (include some green tops)

1 cup coarsely chopped Italian parsley

2 large garlic cloves, finely chopped

2 large whole bay leaves, preferably fresh

Two 8-ounce bottles clam juice

One 8-ounce can tomato sauce

1 cup water

1 cup dry white or red wine

1 tablespoon Worcestershire sauce

1 teaspoon salt, or to taste

½ teaspoon black pepper, or to taste

¹
/
₈
teaspoon ground hot red pepper (cayenne), or to taste

2½ pounds redfish, red snapper, or catfish fillets (see Note at left)

1½ cups converted rice, cooked by package directions

• 1.
  Put the bacon drippings in a large, heavy kettle over moderate heat and mix in the onion, bell pepper, celery, and scallions. Reduce the heat to low and cook uncovered, stirring now and then, for about 20 minutes or until the vegetables are very soft.
  
• 2.
  Stir in the parsley, garlic, and bay leaves and cook uncovered for 10 minutes or until the garlic is golden but not brown.
  
• 3.
  Mix in all remaining ingredients except for the fish and rice, bring to a boil, then adjust the heat so the mixture bubbles gently. Cover and cook for 1 hour or until the flavors mellow. Remove and discard the bay leaves. Taste for salt, black pepper, and cayenne, and adjust as needed.
  
• 4.
  Lay the fish on top of the kettle mixture, cover, and cook for 10 to 15 minutes or just until the fish almost flakes at the touch of a fork.
  
• 5.
  To serve, divide the rice among eight large heated soup bowls, lay the fish on top, again dividing the total amount evenly, then ladle in the kettle liquid.
  

FROGMORE STEW