When I think of the foods that truly symbolize growing up on Long Island, one of them has to be the humble corn muffin. Bagel shop (or, as we call it, “bagel place”) and deli culture is something we Long Islanders take very seriously. Both establishments require great bagels, buttered kaiser rolls, bacon-egg-and-cheese sandwiches, thin chicken cutlets, massive slabs of crumb cake, overly sweetened iced tea lemonades (we call them half and halfs), and cakey corn muffins. No matter what you’re ordering, you always ask for the side-car corn muffin, which is cut in half, buttered, and toasted on the griddle. You’ll be handed a grease-stained brown paper bag with a massive, yellow corn muffin inside, with a quarter pound of softened margarine plopped in the center. The muffin is somehow moist yet dry. And most of the time only half of it ends up in your mouth because it shatters into a million bits on your lap. (I still think my parents are cleaning crumbs out of their cars from decades ago LOL.) Despite the mess, they are a sweet and savory staple and something I will forever crave. When creating this recipe, I wanted all the flavors of corn muffins past—but with a slightly less crumbly texture for an even more enjoyable eating experience.
There are many obvious similarities between New Orleans po boys and Vietnamese bánh mì, which are both essential sandwiches in the city. They start with the same style of French bread, are built around meat, and are dressed with cool veggies and creamy and spicy sauces to balance everything out. The natural intersection of these two cuisines speaks very directly to me, so I decided to meld them even further into a single sandwich. It’s a true hybrid, like me, and also extremely đặc biệt!
The bánh mì sandwich is incredibly versatile. I’ve gone with fried shrimp (my favorite po boy) for the filling, coated with a fish- sauce caramel. But you can use any protein from the book—from the Grilled Lemongrass-Marinated Meat to the Curry- Blackened Fish—topped with any combination of pickled carrot, cilantro, and cucumber. Just don’t skip my Vietnamese Aioli. It’s basically an umami bomb that comes together in literally seconds. If you think you hate mayonnaise, try this recipe and it might convert you.
Blue cornmeal gives this cornbread its haunting corn flavor and lavender hue, but yellow or white cornmeal will work equally well. You can find blue corn meal in co-ops and online. Store it in the refrigerator or freeze.
In our home, this is the crème de la crème of breads—a quintessential part of any mountain table. We serve it alongside about any meal, with cabbage, chili, pot roast, my Chicken and Dumplings, and more. You need a cast-iron skillet to make proper cornbread. Although my grandmother was a cornbread purist, every so often I like to break tradition. One of my favorite cornbread variations is to slice a large onion and lay the rings flat in the skillet before pouring in the batter. What you have is a sort of onion upside-down cornbread that pairs grandly with soup or beans. Another option that goes great with chili is to add a cup of whole kernel corn before baking.
ACTIVE TIME: 1 HOUR — BAKE TIME: 35 MINUTES — TOTAL TIME: 1 HOUR 35 MINUTES — MAKES ONE 10-INCH PIE
Known to some as Tamale Pie, this one-dish meal is great for busy weeknights because it’s quick, easy, and filling. Our family changed the name because it bears no resemblance to a tamale, but whatever you call it, it’s sure to draw everyone to the table.
As a large restaurant chain, Howard Johnson’s relied on a commissary system of centralized kitchens. The clams would have been prepared as strips by the supplier, but here the whole clam body is fried. Individual recipes of this size were adaptations for family cooks, but nevertheless, the result is an authentic evocation of the chain’s most famous dish.
Ingredients
With the crunch of the cornmeal crust and kick of the Jamaican spice blend, this chicken is brimming with flavor and texture reminiscent of the much more time-consuming traditional Jamaican jerk marinade and fried chicken.
Cornbread is a sacred thing in the South, almost a way of life.