"festivefamilyfeasts" news and stories

Happy New Year, all! Hope everyone had a warm, festive Eve and is relatively headache-free and rested post-revelry. Now, there are as many ways to prepare the cowpea and rice concoction of Hoppin' John as there are squares on a calendar, but in many parts of the American South, the definitive date to simmer up a big ol' pot of it is New Year's Day. While the name's origin is still the subject of some debate -- some scholars asserting that it's a corruption of "pois a pigeon," a Carribean dish enjoyed by Southern slaves while still in their native land, and others claiming it's derived from a 13th century Iraqi dish called "bhat kachang" -- the dish's fans maintain that eating it ensures good luck for the coming year. This may well be superstition, but I'm inclined toward any angle that's gonna get a bowlful of it in front of me on a chilly January 1st.

My grand revelation of the day (though likely hardly news to many of you) is that cowpeas are the genus for the group that contains blackeye peas (most commonly used in Hoppin' John), catjang, and yardlong beans. They're also called crowder peas.

Some recipes for Hoppin' John contain tomatoes or okra, and the swap in of okra for the beans makes it a Limpin' Susie.

Got a favorite variation? Share it below, and peruse my favorite recipe after the jump.

There are few holiday dishes so polarizing as green bean casserole. If it was part of your usual Yuletide feast growing up, the stuff is sacrosanct and utterly essential to holiday joy. The bulk of it -- the french-cut green beans, cream of mushroom soup and French-fried onion strings -- must come blopping and clattering from cans and be baked in a casserole until it resembles a roiling green bog topped with a dry moss of frizzled onion straws. There are always seconds, and there's hardly ever any left over for a midnight refrigerator picnic.

If you didn't grow up with it skulking on the holiday table, good gravy, does that stuff look ten-foot-pole nasty.

Got a Prosecco cocktail that's the life of every party? Folks begging you for your Kosher kugel secrets? Sneak a few minutes while everyone around you is slogging through their post-holiday-feast comas and submit your best recipes. At stake -- trips, cash, kitchen gear, and culinary bragging rights for the rest of 2009. Break a ladle!

Are we missing any? Post 'em in the comments below.


Pillsbury's Make America Sweeter Contest

Boboli's Great American City Tour Pizza Recipe Contest

Tutti Foodie's Chocolate Adventure Contest

Pepperidge Farms's Puff Pastry to Paris Recipe Contest

Simply Manischewitz Cook-Off Contest

Mama Mary's Official Pizza Creations Recipe Contest

Mionetto Mixology Cocktails Contest

Jose Ole Coolest Mom Recipe Contest

4th Annual Hood Holiday Recipe Contest

Taste of Home America's Best-Loved Recipes Contest

Crisco Grilling Hall of Fame (Get the skinny from Marisa's earlier post.)

Paula Deen's Treasure Hunt

The Next Hungry Man Dinner

Lo these many years ago, a UK-born boss of mine attempted to wheedle me into swifter production by offering me a small mincemeat pie if I finished a pressing task by 4 p.m. I begged to be allowed to take only half if I knocked it out by 3, and remain fully un-minced if I had everything squared away by 2.

In theory, I should love traditional mincemeat. I'm a huge fan of a meat 'n sweet one-two punch -- especially when there's cookin' booze involved -- but I've never been able to wrap my head around the flavor of suet. It's the hard fat from around the loins and kidneys of sheep and cows, isn't especially full and meaty like lard, and is possessed of a particularly high melting point, making it the perfect base fat for many classic British steamed puddings. It seems to be the definitive flavoring agent in all the mincemeat I've had, but I've not been able to convince myself to care for it. I tend to be a stickler when it comes to ingredient lists for traditional dishes from my vintage cookbooks, but I'm wondering if there's a fat I can sub in that would render a texture that would cleave closely to the original. Most suet-centric recipes I've come across warn that the use of butter, margarine, lard, shortening et al leaves the whole dish overly greasy and flat, but if any of y'all have met with a successful swap, I'm all ears. There may even be a bit of Spotted Dick in it for you.

Other Cooking and Traveling the Cape Cod Way highlights include Forefather's Day Succotash (look for that recipe on December 21st), Beach Plum Jelly, Irish Moss Pudding, Scootin'-Long-The-Shore, Skully Joe and a wicked lot of mouthwatering Portuguese cookery. I'm more than happy to share if there's any interest.

For weeks now, everywhere you turn, it has been Thanksgiving as far as the eye can see. Here at Slashfood, we posted three menus, a bevy of side dishes and some excellent suggestions for wines to drink with your meals. At The Kitchn, they've been talking pie since November 1st (that's a lot of pie). Ree, The Pioneer Woman, has photographed so many Thanksgiving recipes I'm astounded she can still bear to be in her kitchen. And every newspaper section in the country has written about turkey, apples, pumpkins and cranberries ad naseum.

The thing is that for all these recipes, tips, suggestions and turkey tricks, how many of us actually vary our Thanksgiving day menu from year to year? I'm serving up a meal this year for the holiday that is very much like the one I've eaten with my family since I could first gum a couple of spoonfuls of mashed potato.

Over at Slate, Regina Schrambling has written a piece that describes just this conundrum - food sections, blogs and magazines who feel the need to reinvent the holiday each year, when most people turn to the familiar recipes they've been making for years. It's a good read that will get you in the mood to head to the kitchen and cook up your Thanksgiving favorites.

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