Check out this week's recipe posted below.
Last week I received the sad news that Barbara Thomas, of Barbara’s Home Cookin’ in Franklin, Tennessee, passed away. Thomas opened the popular meat-and-three café in the formerly quiet suburb of Nashville in the late 1990s but sold her interest a couple of years ago. Thomas was a native of New Augusta, Mississippi, but claimed my hometown, Hattiesburg— the nearest larger city close to New Augusta— as home. She was a court reporter by trade, who retired from that profession and got into the restaurant business, and the entire Nashville metroplex was better for it.
Barbara’s
Home Cookin’ served typical meat-and-three fare and was frequented by a wide
range of customers from day laborers to Nicole Kidman and Keith Urban and
others from the Music City jet set. The food was 100% pure South Mississippi
country cooking, but it also stood as a place where I ate some of the best
mashed potatoes I had ever tasted.
I keep a running tab of all of the best foods I have eaten through the years and I update it frequently. Barbara’s Home Cookin’ has stellar mashed potatoes, and they are in close competition with my grandmother’s mashed potatoes and Frank Brigtsen’s. They are all three on the list. Though when I pull up my list of the “Best Things I Ever Ate,” the yeast roll category has one solitary entry— Barbara’s Home Cookin.’
The yeast
rolls at Barbara’s Home Cookin’ were— and I guess still are— heavenly.
Seriously. On my first visit 12 years ago, I asked for thirds with yeast rolls.
Thirds. I have come to a stage in my dining-out career, that if I eat something
that is out-of-this-world good and extraordinary, I order that item again during
the same visit. Sometimes, if it’s an appetizer, I’ll cancel the entrée and
just order another of the same appetizer (my chefs and managers call it “The
St. John Maneuver”).
In the
early days of my food career, when I would eat a restaurant menu item that I
thought was otherworldly, I would convince myself that I would return and eat
the same dish in the future. But life gets in the way. Sometimes we don’t
return. Other times businesses close, recipes change, people die. The St. John Maneuver
is my version of culinary carpe diem. Get it while you can, seize the dish, order
seconds, thirds even.
I grew up
eating yeast rolls in school cafeterias and in meat-and-three joints around my
hometown. But I had never— and still have never— tasted yeast rolls that were
as tasty as those at Barbara’s Home Cookin.’ I also took pride in the fact that
something so fine originated in my little corner of the world. I am sorry that
Barbara is gone, but I am glad I was privileged enough to have eaten her
cooking and take solace in the fact that someone up there in Franklin is still
running the joint and carrying on her traditions.
I am a
breadaholic. I know bread. I adore bread. Which is to say, I am really, really,
really in love with bread. Nicole Kidman may have looked good in that movie
where she was in a bikini trapped on a sailboat with that crazy guy, but on the
day of that first visit to Barbara’s Home Cookin,’ she didn’t look as good as my
third helping of yeast rolls tasted.
The news
of Barbara’s passing put me in a reflective mood, and I began to run though my “Best
Things I Ever Ate” notes and started reflecting on the best bread items I have
eaten in my life. Here are the top five.
5.) Bread
in Tuscany— It’s strange that this item makes the list because the Tuscans do
not use salt when baking bread, and— to my taste and sensibility— salt is a
must when baking bread. Though the quality of the olive oil I dip their bread
into makes the difference. I just add salt to the olive oil so that makes up for
the lack of salt in the bread. Italians don’t really spend every pre-meal
dipping bread into olive oil. That is probably more of an American thing. They
certainly don’t add salt to the oil. But when I am over there, I do it with no
reservation of worrying that I am going to seem like a visiting American (they
already know I am a visiting American), but it’s just that the olive oil is so
good, the bread just becomes a vessel to carry the oil.
4.)
Croissants— I have eaten croissants all over the world. When they are made
properly, there is no better breakfast item. Period. When I was young and
foolish, I would eat butter and jam on a warm croissant. A decade or so ago, I
ditched the butter. There’s a ton of it already in a croissant. It needs no accompaniment,
actually. But homemade jam is a nice compliment.
3.) Warm French
Bread Served with Dinner in New Orleans, various restaurants— A friend used to
have a magnet on her refrigerator that stated, “Nothing tastes as good as being
skinny and lean feels.” I always thought that she had probably never eaten
warm, freshly baked French bread with salted butter in any restaurant in New
Orleans. That combination is one of the food items that make me stop and realize,
how simple and joyful food can be.
2.) Biscuits
at The Carriage House, Natchez, MS— I gave a speech to a group in Natchez years
ago, and the hosts took me to lunch at The Carriage House. The biscuits there
were as close to my grandmother’s as anything I have ever tasted. I skipped the
entrée and dessert, and did my best to not let my hosts see that I was making a
meal out of the biscuits in the bread basket.
1. My Grandmother’s
Biscuits— This is such a typical and obvious choice. Everyone’s grandmother’s cooking
is always the apparent and over-used go-to for foodies (and certainly for me
over the years), but it’s the actual truth. I have never eaten a single bread
item that was better than my grandmother’s biscuits. Her biscuits were small,
little-old-lady luncheon-sized biscuits, not the large cathead country variety
we serve in our breakfast joint. They were petite, light, slightly acidic with
just a touch of salt. Perfect. Seriously, every-time perfect.
Bread is not necessarily good for you and is loaded with carbohydrates and fat. That’s true, and I acknowledge that I would probably live 10 years longer if I eliminated bread from my diet. But then again, those 10 years aren’t always the best years, and are often filled with stints in hospitals and nursing homes. So, at least for now, I’m going to keep carb-loading and eating bread (sometimes third helpings of bread) and roll the dice when it comes to life expectancy.
Carpe diem, and pass the yeast rolls, please.
Onward.
Light Buttermilk Biscuits
2 cups Self-rising flour
2 tsp. Sugar
1 /4 tsp. Salt
1 /4 tsp. Baking soda
1 /2 cup Shortening or lard
3 /4 cup Buttermilk
1 /4 cup Butter,
melted for brushing the tops
Preheat oven to 375 degrees.
Combine all dry ingredients. Add shortening and use a pastry
cutter or fork to blend in the shortening. The mixture should look like course
meal. Knead in the buttermilk; the mixture will be slightly sticky (Adding more
flour will result in a dense biscuit).
Place dough on a lightly floured surface. Using a floured rolling
pin roll dough to 1 /2-inch thickness. Cut biscuits and place on baking sheet.
Brush tops with butter.
Bake for 14-16 minutes, or until golden brown. Yield: 12-14
biscuits
8 comments:
I have never related more.
I dont allow myself to eat many beloved carbs these days but in college (with a much more blessed metabolism) my friends and I would go to Quincys and order one order of Fries to share and made the poor waitress bring basket after basket of those free "big fat yeast rolls!" so we could fill up while being eternally broke.
RIP Quincy's...and apologies if our college food plan helped put you out of business.
I've gained five pounds since Kingfish started carrying the RSJ column
I love bread and have been making most of our own bread with a stand mixer since the quarantine started last year. I use yeast to make white sandwich, light rye, pumpernickle, wheat, and egg-rich breads like brioche and babka to use up eggs from our backyard chickens.
I love sourdough bread when I'm in San Francisco but no longer keep sourdough starter because it's like having a pet living in the refrigerator that has to be fed and pooped every week.
Thanks, as always, for Robert's column.
RSJ has evoked my memories of the famous rolls at the Elite.
After the original owners passed, everything on that menu declined.
RIP Mr. Pete and Mr. Jimmy Zouboukos.
Hot bread and butter is my weakness.
Tell me about it. Once upon a time, Primos sold loaves of French bread. I'd get a loaf, heat it up, smear it with butter, and snack away. Once upon a time.
Maybe Mr. St. John would not have been worried about losing his home or laying off staff if he hadn't been racing through money enjoying bread in Tuscany, croissants all over the world, and lots of dinners at restaurants in New Orleans that bake their own French bread (very few, and most of them at the very upper end of the price range in New Orleans).
It was his money to piss away the second he earned it, which coincidentally is exactly how I feel about my money being mine and I resent the hell out of the Fed using one fucking penny of it to "bail out" anyone who needs bailing out because of poor financial planning.
I don't begrudge it going to the workers who weren't making enough for a world tour of baked goods, but for those who could have easily built up a comfortable cushion for life's unexpected problems and chose to do otherwise? Sorry, it's "tough shit" time. To paraphrase, "Let them eat not expensive bakery products, but store-brand white bread."
6:58 p.m., I love you. Preach it!
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