sunday gravy with yeah right: lima beans, ham hocks, corn bread. Where you going city boy?

One of the things we can’t control in life is our upbringing. We are completely not in control of the selection of our parents or grandparents and their lineage and that’s cool, we learn to deal or we learn to drink and often times they are the same. What I’m saying is, my daddy’s mamma, Grandmommie, was from Louisiana and boy could she cook. She also drank like a fish and swore like a sailor. She was a gifted cook, gardener, she made her own pickles and jams and jellies. She made this stuff she called fermented fruit which was basically moonshine in a mason jar. I used to sneak into her refrigerator and grab a piece or two of the fermented fruit and it made me warm and happy. Seriously I was like fucking nine and Grandmommie was getting me hammered. She was a gem. One day she ran out of beer after her first 15 and threw my three bothers and I into the backseat of her Oldsmobile and drove us to the liquor store and told us to “get anything you want you little sum bitches!” so we loaded up on candy, chips and unhealthy shit that kids like and she grabbed another case of Olympia (Oly as she called it) threw us back in the car and drove us back home. She would have easily blown a .58 BAC if she got stopped but this was a different era and a different time.

Some of my favorite Grandmommie-isms: “C’mer you little shitass and give yer Grandmommie a hug”. “You little silly-ass” and “What’s wrong with you you little son-of-a whore?” My own mother was not a big fan of her mother in law. Mainly because her mother was super religious, a non-drinker and wouldn’t swear if she hit her own thumb with a hammer. It was like walking on egg shells when my two grandmothers got together. I thought it was awesome when Grandmommie would say “Put that down you little shithead” and my mom and her parents would turn red in the face.

This goes a long circuitous way of saying I’ve got some southern influence in my cooking. This dish here today is one of those things that was served up every couple of months during my upbringing and I’ve known no other way. I’m sure many of you were not exposed to some of these things and were raised on a more homogeneous meal time of frozen fish sticks and boxed macaroni and cheese and shit but just because you haven’t been exposed to it is no reason to dismiss this. These beans are not the little waxy green lima beans. Fuck those beans! I used to feed them to the family dog whenever Ma served us those frozen Birdseye mixed vegetables. No, no, no. These are the large white lima beans or butter beans as they say in the south and they are goddamn delicious.

Ham hocks are the lower part of the pigs leg that attaches to the little piggy ankle. They are not very meaty but when smoked over hard wood and slow braised they lend a gelatinous, fatty goodness to the beans that adds a glorious texture to the proceedings. Many folks from the Southern regions serve the beans over rice to help extend it and while that is a delicious application and would work just fine, I prefer them served as a soup, served along with some corn bread and maybe some fried taters. Don’t forget to add a splash or two of Louisiana hot sauce to the beans.

Actual Southern conversation:

Jake: Carl.

Carl: Jake.

Jake: How you?

Carl: Fahn I reckon.

Jake: Jeet?

Carl: Nope but ahm fixen ta.

Translation:

Jake: Greetings dear friend, Carl how are you this fine afternoon?

Carl: Quite well, dear boy, quite well. Thank you for asking.

Jake: Have you had the opportunity to partake of some delicious edible substances this glorious day?

Carl: Thank you for asking, my good fellow. I haven’t but I really could use a little something to stem the tide of hunger as I am feeling quite peckish.

On a completely unrelated note, here is a shot of the full moon rising over right field at Dodger Stadium that I took last night. Fucking Dodgers, man.

Fuck it. Let’s cook.

Lima beans and ham hocks:

Grab a couple two three four smoked ham hocks at your local grocery store. They have them there. Really. Look by the bacon and sausage area of the butcher counter. If I can find them at my local Ralph’s in El Segundo California you can find them at your store.

One 16 ounce bag of large white lima beans.

1 medium onion, diced

4-5 cloves garlic, minced

Salt to taste, maybe a tablespoon?

Some grinds of black pepper

1 teaspoon of dried thyme. Thyme is critical. It is a major staple in the southern food lexicon.

Put your hocks into a dutch oven and cover with enough water to barely cover. Toss in the onion, garlic, salt, pepper and thyme and get them on the stove top and bring to a gentle boil. Meanwhile, sort through your beans. Always sort your beans. There are many times I have found rocks and other non-savory items in a bag of “pre-cleaned and sorted” beans. After sorting, rinse the beans in a colander and toss them in the pot with the hocks. These are going to cook for about 2 to 2 1/2 hours on a low simmer. After 2 hours or so, remove the ham hocks with some tongs, let cool. Now using your hands shred the cooked ham hocks to remove the meat and maybe a little fat. You are going to toss away a couple of bones and a chunk or two of skin. Put the meat back in the pot and stir. Add water as needed during the cooking process. The challenge here is getting the right consistency. Not too thick and not too thin. Once the beans set they will thicken as they cool. Serve as a soup with a couple of shots of hot sauce.

Corn Bread

1 cup of yellow corn meal

1 cup of AP flour

1/4 cup of sugar

1 tablespoon of baking powder

1 teaspoon of salt

1 cup of milk. Again, use whole milk if you can for texture.

1/4 cup of oil

1 large egg, slightly beaten.

Mix together the dry ingredients and in a separate bowl mix together the wet ingredients. Add the wet ingredients and MIX UNTIL JUST MIXED. Do not over mix. This is crucial. If you over mix you end up with crumbs and that shit ain’t correct.

Cook in a greased baking dish in a 400 degree oven for 25 minutes. Use a baking dish that is a little deep to give the corn bread a little height. You don’t want it too thin.

Alternate idea. Add two tablespoons of minced pickled jalapenos and 1/4 cup of shredded sharp cheddar cheese to the corn bread and it will be one of those rare life decisions that you won’t regret later. Unlike that night in Vegas where that girl who said she was really a….

Never mind.

And here are some twice fried taters.

I’ve got these family connections to the South all over the family. I’ve got people in Texas, Oklahoma. Memphis, Austin. Shit Del Ray, I’ve got people all over the damn south. In fact, my wonderful niece (“Hi Alex!) is getting married in October in Memphis and Imma be there with a quickness, we’re gonna throw the fuck down! As some of you who have actually met me may wonder “What’s a dazzling urbanite like you doing cooking this rustic food?” This is the very definition of a Sunday Gravy. This is a rich, hearty, comforting, soul-warming and just downright fucking delicious meal. The cornbread should be served with a little tab of butter and the best idea is to eat your cornbread over your bowl-o-beans and let the crumbs fall in the beans. We all got a little south in us it’s just that some of you don’t know it yet.

“Now come over here and give yer Grandmommie a kiss. And get me a beer while yer up you little shitass!”

Editors note: This recipe was cooked and the blog post was written listening to these guys, The Balfa Brothers. That will shore enuff fire up your Cajun blood, don’t you know.