Around the Southern Table: Peppered Pork Roast with Blue Cheese Grits Recipe

Photo credit: Jennifer Davick

I got into the business of writing cookbooks because I truly love them. As a young girl, I would sit for hours flipping through and dog earring my mother's collection of Southern spiral bound church and community cookbooks. I would literally read them word for word, starting with the table of contents all the way through to the index, stopping every now and then to oogle at some overly staged, styled photo of a lime congealed salad or a coconut cream pie with whipped meringue that seemed to touch the top of the page. While most pre-pubescent girls were curled up in bed with Judy Blume, I was trying (unsuccessfully, I might add) to work my way through Larousse Gastronomique.

I was a weird kid, yet one thing has remained a constant all of these years (in addition to still being a bit on the strange side) and that's the childlike giddiness I feel when I crack open a brand spanking new cookbook, one that truly excites me. Enter author, food writer and resident Georgia gal Rebecca Lang's new book, "Southern Living Around the Southern Table: Coming home to comforting meals and treasured memories" (Oxmoor House, 2012).

Photo credit: Jennifer Davick

It goes without saying that the recipes in this book are of your swoonworthy Southern variety-- think Cat-Head Biscuits with Tomato Gravy, All Things Sweet Potato Casserole (made with gingersnap cookies), Country Ham and Cheese Biscuit Bread, Pecan Bourbon and Cane Syrup Ham (yup) and a Chocolate-Bourbon Pecan Pie that Lang describes as consisting of, "pecans suspended in a fudgy, bourbon-kissed filling". Um, yes please!

Yet, this is not your average recipes-only cookbook. There's a lot more going on here than simply tasty food since, as any good Southern cook knows, great recipes are meant to be shared with others. Herein is where the book offers so much more. In addition to first person tributes on Southern cooking and entertaining along with the joys of family and fellowship from a few of Lang's friends and fellow Southerners including model and actress Ali Landry, HGTV's Vern Yip, Olympic gymnast and Oklahoman Shannon Miller, and a lovely forward by Southern cookbook author and respected culinary expert, Nathalie Dupree, the book is also chock full of precious entertaining tidbits.

From a short lesson on the giving side of Southern hospitality and "how we do" where Lang shares, "It's not just about the food; it's in all we do. It's writing a sweet thank-you note on real paper to taking supper to a neighbor in need" to the right of passage of handing down table linens, china and glassware that so many of us display with pride (I have grandmother's collection that I treasure to this day), this is a cookbook that will ring true with you whether you're a Southerner by birth or simply one at heart.

Moreover, now that home cooks have officially entered the holiday party phase of the year, I can think of no better reference for recipes designed for entertaining the Southern way than Lang's Roasted Cornish Hens with Lemons and Creamy Grits, Peach-Glazed Duck Breasts or perhaps a Coffee-Crusted Standing Rib Roast. Maybe some Hummingbird Cake? Lang was generous enough to share her Peppered Pork Roast with Blue Cheese Grits recipe with me, which simply screams cool weather and would make an excellent addition to an elegant Christmas Eve dinner. Bone-in, center-cut pork gets a punch from a good amount of garlic, herbs and mustard before hitting the oven and meeting up with creamy, blue-cheesy stone-ground grits. What's not to like about this combo?

In the meantime, bust out those underused linens, polish the silver, grab yourself a big, fat glass of sweet tea and crack open Lang's cookbook for inspiration since there's plenty of Southern goodness to be found within its pages especially for us cookbook collectors who can't get enough of the good stuff.

Peppered Pork Roast with Blue Cheese Grits

From Southern Living "Around the Southern Table" by Rebecca Lang (Oxmoor House, 2012).

When it’s not cut into chops, the center-cut pork loin makes a mighty bone-in
roast and serves a crowd. Make it for company and save some for sandwiches
the next day.

5 large garlic cloves
1 (4.5-lb.) bone-in, center-cut pork loin roast, trimmed
1 Tbsp. all-purpose flour
1 Tbsp. whole grain mustard
1 Tbsp. dried parsley flakes
11⁄2 tsp. coarsely ground pepper
3⁄4 tsp. dried thyme
1⁄2 tsp. salt
Blue Cheese Grits
Garnish: arugula

1. Preheat oven to 325°. Cut garlic into slivers. Cut 1⁄2-inch-deep slits in pork using a paring knife; insert garlic into slits. Place roast, fat side up, on a lightly greased rack in a roasting pan. Pat dry. Sprinkle top of roast with flour; pat lightly to adhere. Spread mustard over roast.

2. Combine parsley and next 3 ingredients. Generously coat roast with parsley mixture, patting to adhere.

3. Bake, uncovered, at 325° for 2 hours and 10 minutes or until a meat thermometer inserted into thickest portion registers 145°. Let stand 5 to 10 minutes before slicing. Serve with Blue Cheese Grits. Garnish, if desired.

Makes: 10 to 12 servings Hands-on Time: 15 min.
Total Time: 3 hr., 20 min., including grits

Blue Cheese Grits

8 cups chicken broth
1 tsp. salt
2 cups uncooked stone-ground grits
5 oz. soft-ripened blue cheese, rind removed (such as Saga Classic
Soft-Ripened Blue-Veined Cheese)
2 Tbsp. unsalted butter

1. Bring broth and salt to a boil in a large saucepan over high heat. Stir in grits. Reduce heat, and simmer, stirring very often, 45 minutes or until smooth and creamy.

2. Reserve about one-fifth of the cheese. Slice the rest, and add, with butter, to the grits. Stir until both are melted. Just before serving, garnish with crumbles of the reserved cheese.

Makes: 12 servings Hands-on Time: 50 min. Total Time: 50 min.

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Upside Down Turkey Recipe

Photo courtesy of The Food Network. Digging this Alton Brown photo cuz it's real mad scientist.

Several years ago, I did an article for the Richmond Times Dispatch featuring an old family recipe for Thanksgiving turkey with sausage dressing (sorry, I am unable to link to the article since they are currently revamping the site), but this was no average Thanksgiving recipe. Sure, it was a regular old bird stuffed with regular old sausage dressing, but what was unique about it was that the turkey was roasted upside down towards the end of the cooking time. It's a brilliant trick that my granny perfect years ago to offset a fully cooked turkey with dry breast meat. Instead of just cooking the bird upright until it's done, during those last 45 minutes or so she gave it a flip to reveal an upside down turkey. From there, she continued roasting the bird until it was fully cooked which allowed all of those precious dark meat, fatty goodness juices to infiltrate the breast meat making it moist it flavorful.

I've pasted this turkey recipe below along with a recipe for cornbread sausage dressing, which while not reinventing the wheel, is certainly a crowd-pleaser. You should note that granny never stuffed her bird with "stuffing" (hence, why we call it dressing), but rather baked the dressing separately so it would get that addictive crispy, crunchy texture. Sometimes she would bake the dressing in individual muffin tins (stuffin' muffins I suppose?) which was always my favorite as a kid since it not only resembled a cupcake, but it was crispity crunchity all the way around with a dense, soft, bready center. Douse that sucker in some white turkey gravy or sausage gravy (we never did brown turkey gravy, always milk-based) and prepare to swoon.

So, here are two Thanksgiving recipes to consider if you're stuck on what to do with that bird, and don't be afraid to try your turkey upside down-style. Just be sure to get an extra hand or two to help you flip it!

Happy Thanksgiving everyone.

Upside Down Turkey and Sausage Dressing

Feeds 20-22 people

An unstuffed 20 pound bird will take around 5 hours. For a smaller 10 -12 pound unstuffed bird, simply cut this recipe in half and alter your overall cooking time from 5 total hours to about 2 1/2 hours. Internal temperatures should read: 175 F at the thickest portion of the leg; 165 F in the breast; 160 F in the center of the stuffing.

18-20 pound turkey, either frozen or fresh
3/4 stick butter, softened and cut into small pieces
2 onions, quartered, (optional)
4 sticks celery, cut into fourths, (optional)
4 cups low sodium chicken broth
Salt and pepper

Preheat oven to 400 degrees.

Special tools: roasting pan, baster, tin foil

After your turkey has fully defrosted, if frozen, remove the giblet bag and save for gravy or discard. Pat turkey dry and season well with salt and pepper. Rub turkey with butter and push pieces of butter up under the skin. Fill turkey cavity with the dressing with you like (see recipe below) or quartered onions and celery if cooking dressing separately.

Place turkey on a rack in a roasting pan, breast side up and roast at 400 degrees for 30 minutes. Lower heat to 325 degrees. Pour chicken broth in bottom of roasting pan and place a piece of aluminum foil loosely around your turkey in a “tent” fashion to keep wings from burning.

Baste your turkey every hour during the cooking process. During the last 45 minutes of cooking, remove the foil tent and flip your turkey upside down. For a twenty pound turkey, you should plan on roasting it for about 5 hours total (including the first 30 minutes as well as the 45 minutes upside down) or until a thermometer inserted into the thigh away from the bone reads 165 degrees in the breast portion (175 degrees in the leg) and the juices of your bird run clear.When your turkey is done, flip it back to breast side up and let rest for at least 30 minutes before carving. Save pan juices for gravy.

Granny’s Cornbread and Sausage Dressing

Serves 10

If you're making a 20 pound turkey, I recommend doubling this recipe because you can never have enough dressing!

1 tablespoon shortening
1 pound spicy sausage (or mild sage sausage)
1 1/2 cups celery, chopped
1 1/2 cups onion, chopped
3 (15 ounce) low sodium chicken broth, plus more if needed for consistency
1 stick butter
1 (1 pound) bag cornbread stuffing mix
1 (1 pound bag) cubed herb stuffing mix
1 cup chopped walnuts, optional

Preheat oven to 350 degrees.

Melt shortening in a large sauté pan. Add sausage and break into pieces, frying well on medium-high until nice and crisp. Remove sausage to a bowl, setting aside two tablespoons of the leftover sausage grease.

Wipe out your pan and preheat to medium-high. Add reserved sausage grease and sauté celery and onion until translucent. Add chicken broth and butter and simmer for 3 minutes on medium-low.

In a large bowl, combine sausage with stuffing mixes and nuts. Add chicken broth to stuffing mixture a cup at a time, and mix lightly with a fork until dressing holds together.  Your dressing should be moist, but not wet, so use less chicken broth if necessary to achieve this consistency.

Pour dressing into a lightly greased 9 x 12 casserole dish and bake for 25 minutes or until lightly browned and crusty on the outside. Note: If cooking your dressing in muffin tins, reduce cooking time by about 8 minutes.

©2012 Fatback and Foie Gras. All rights reserved. This material may not be published, broadcast, rewritten or redistributed without permission.

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Hot Rolls and Sweaty Cooks

This post doesn't include a recipe. It doesn't boast any drool worthy photos nor does it link to anything. This post is a story, a tribute to all the amazing mothers in my life, who not only own it in the kitchen, but also own my heart. This is for my mother, Patty Bailey; my Granny Boohler back in Princeton, West Virginia, and my Granny Belcher also in Princeton West Virginia. This story also honors my Aunt Barbara Bailey in Johnson City, Tennessee, my Aunt Barbara DeMary in Fairmont, West Virginia, my "other mother" Mrs. Jane Haney in Richmond, Virginia, and my mother-in-law, Kathy Dalesandro (all the way out west!) in Carmel, California.


Happy Mother's Day.

----------------------------------

I remember how my Granny Boohler’s West Virginia kitchen always smelled like hot rolls. Warm and yeasty, the room would bloom with the aroma of fresh baked bread. I’d open the oven door, letting the hot rush of doughy air sweep across my face, waiting to see if the tops had browned, so I could have one roll fresh out. Granny would sneak up behind me and quickly close the door. “You’re lettin’ all the good air out!” she would cry, and then go back to stirring the sausage gravy so it didn’t clump.

Meanwhile, my Aunt Barbara would be laying out the plastic tablecloth—the one with dogwood flowers on it—and topping each place setting with a bright red hand-stitched placemat along with mismatched plates and silverware. Mom would be bustling to and from the basement (where all the “big food” was kept in another fridge) lugging up the country ham, the crispy-skinned turkey, and the giant pot of green beans cooked in fatback. (You know you’re a true host when you need two refrigerators to hold all the food you’ve been cooking.)

As a young girl, my job was always the hors d’oeuvres. Granny would proclaim, “We can’t have dinner without hors d’oeuvres!” which I always found funny since most of our dinner “guests” munched on them while wearing dirty sweatpants and wife beaters. I would cube some Colby cheese, get out a few jars of bread-and-butter pickles, throw in a handful of green olives stuffed with pimiento, and then artfully arrange it all in Granny’s signature depression glass serving dish. Voila! Hors d’oeuvres.

Now, the “guests” were the men in our family, who avoided the kitchen much in the same way they avoided the washer and dryer and detergent in general. You see, it worked like this. The women cooked the food, served the food, and cleaned up the food while the men ate the food. They had their place—in front of the television, asking for refills of sweet tea and slices of applesauce cake. Simple and highly efficient in a patriarchal sort of way.

In truth, kitchen life for us ladies was easier when we were in total control. Never did I walk into that kitchen and see one of the boys frying up a mess of apple pies draped in one of grandma’s aprons proclaiming, “Come and get it!”, and never did I want to. We worked much faster as an all-female group. Each of us had her unwritten and unchanging role. My mother and aunt were in charge of cleaning up after Granny, who was well known to leave an apocalyptic mess in her wake. Some nights, it literally rained dirty dishes. They’d be piled up on the kitchen table, the counters, the stoves, in the sink, and even outside on the back porch with all kinds of half-charred, partially congealed vegetable, meat, and fat leavings. It took hours to scrub all those dishes by hand. And the best part was you got to do it all over again the next night. Brittle fingernails and cracked hands were our birthrights.

Granny may have left us with quite a mess, but she sure could cook up a lot of food. From apples to zucchini, she did it all. She’d cook all day every day for a solid week, and everything down to the white bread for leftover turkey sandwiches was made from scratch. One day, she’d make nothing but cakes and pies: coconut, pound, chocolate, chess. Next day would be candies and cookies: turtles, fudge, bourbon balls. Then onto breads: potato rolls, banana bread, zucchini bread. As the grand day of eating approached closer, the turkey, the whole ham, the sweet potato casserole, and the brown beans would be cooked up and stored in the basement fridge with all the other goodies. Finally, the salads would be made: congealed, potato, slaw. The last day would be reserved for gravies, biscuits, punch, and other last-minute doings such as opening fresh jars of blackberry jam, apple butter, and chow chow. This is what country cookin’ is all about: flour dusting every biscuit and filling each homemade pie with pure love drawn from the enduring sweat of a hardworking cook.

And Granny’s kitchen was small—really small. Imagine a cluster of frenetic women swarming around trying to find space to lay down just one more squash casserole, bumping into one another, knocking over the ice trays laid out for the sweet tea. Imagine all four burners on the cooktop gleaming orange, bubbling over with various gravies and boiling white potatoes. Imagine an oven continuously pumping out black smoke every time you dared to open it (since it hadn’t had a real cleaning in years). Imagine no ventilation, no dishwasher, no counter space, and no refrigerator space. Imagine sweating more than you thought you had in you and still making enough food for an entire congregation. Imagine the best time of your life.

Yet, this is how we did it. There was rarely an occasion—we were the occasion. Granny would break out the Fostoria serving platters and the carnival glass, and we always had some kind of green punch served from the antique punchbowl that usually resided in the basement. Gospel music would play from an old 8-track in the adjoining living room, and sometimes Granny would put on a little bluegrass from the tape recorder that rested permanently on the buffet—a little Flatt and Scruggs or her favorite, Mac Wiseman’s, “Tis Sweet to Be Remembered.”

We didn’t have much, but we had a lot, and Granny made sure none of us ever cared about the difference between our family meal and the lobster tails served in some fancy restaurant on real see-through Limoges china. Because this meal, like all of our meals, was special. Granny worked with what she had, and it didn’t matter that our forks didn’t match or the cole slaw was a little on the sugary side or the punch bowl had a big chip in the rim. This was a feast made from the fortitude of great Southern women treasured by strong, hardworking Southern men. The table was often silent while we ate, not because we were lacking in conversation, but out of respect. A good meal should be savored like a hot roll fresh from the oven and a good host should be cherished, not for what she has, but for what she offers.

This story was original published in "White Trash Gatherings: From-Scratch Cooking for Down-Home Entertaining" (Ten Speed Press, 2006).

©2012 Fatback and Foie Gras. All rights reserved. This material may not be published, broadcast, rewritten or redistributed without permission. Pin It Now!

Five Tips for Hosting a Church Potluck Supper Southern Baptist Style

Go big or go home.

Yesterday, my husband and I joined my parents at their church, First Freewill Baptist in Richmond, to enjoy some seriously good gospel music followed by a potluck supper of epic proportions to celebrate the church's 60th anniversary. As the sweet tea flowed, dish after dish was laid out on (count 'em) three separate tables that overflowed with more food than I've seen in years. From country ham biscuits and fried chicken to pecan pie and sweet potato dumplings, homemade food that was carefully made with love was presented end to end inside the church's fellowship hall.

As someone who grew up in the Baptist church, potluck suppers hold a special place in my heart, not only because the food is so amazingly good (and I'm talking Jesus can take me now cuz it just doesn't get any better kinda good), but because each and every dish is created with great care and thought. The goods you'll find at a church potluck is food truly made with love. There's no highfalutin cooking going on here-- just solid, soul warming comforting eats that's been sifted, stirred and made from scratch just for you. Believe it or not, potluck's are more about sharing and giving of yourself than actually eating, although arguably the eating part sure is fun. Whether your cooking skill set is advanced baker or can't boil water, your dish is always welcome on the church potluck table, and it goes without saying, more really is merrier.

For those of you who have yet to enjoy a true Southern-style Baptist church potluck, I've assembled a few potluck fundamentals to give you an idea of what you're missing.

There must be at least five platters of deviled eggs.
Deviled eggs are the Southern church potluck's equivalent to, I dunno, utensils. They absolutely, positively must be on the table and in multiple varieties. From paprika sprinkles to plain, from mustard-tinged to mayo heavy, and from sweet pickles to no pickles at all, deviled eggs have got make and appearance. Note: potluck deviled eggs should always be served from a special deviled egg platter and you get bonus points if you also bring a creamy potato salad made from any leftover boiled eggs.

Casseroles and meat.You can't have your pudding if you don't eat your meat, and at a church potluck that means fried chicken (always), country ham (a must), sliced roast beef, turkey, pineapple studded baked ham, ham sandwiches and/or biscuits (always), and definitely multiple varieties of meat-based casseroles, which nine times out of ten, will be made with some sort of cream of mushroom soup.

Hello Jell-O.

No church potluck is complete without an array of Jell-O/gelatin/grease-cutter salads. More often than not, these salads will be made with canned pineapple, strawberry gelatin and boast multiple layers of goodness in the form of cream cheese, whipped cream, nuts, and if you're really lucky, crushed pretzels. Lime Jell-O salads are also acceptable, especially if they are made with cottage cheese and studded with pimentos. Bonus points if you bring your Jell-O salad in a circular or rooster mold versus a casserole dish.

There must be a stupid number of desserts including banana puddings.
Notice the plurality of "banana puddings". This is because more than one combination of vanilla pudding mix, bananas and Nilla wafers is required for the dessert tables (tables) which will be locked and loaded with an array of homemade street treats designed to get any young child properly high on sugar. You can bet there will be more than one pound cake, several pies (pecan, sweet potato and strawberry if the weather's warm), multiple cheesecakes, definitely brownies, and something layered with pineapple, whipped cream and canned cherry pie filling. If you're really lucky, someone will bring a vat of homemade butter pecan or peach ice cream, although this is usually reserved for the church ice cream social which I hope to address in a future blog post.

Dainty eaters should not apply. Pile up that plate or someone will do it for you.
One certainty at any church potluck is that this is NOT the place to watch your caloric intake. Run an extra mile (or 5) before you go so you can pile that bad boy up because if you don't, one of two rumors will probably be started about you-- the first being that you have some kind of eating disorder or second, and this is far worse, you don't like the food. A good rule of thumb is to avoid most anything of the salad variety (Jell-O, potato salad, macaroni salad and creamy slaw notwithstanding) and go straight for the good stuff-- grape jelly meatballs, turkey and stuffing, green beans cooked in fatback, macaroni and cheese, mystery casserole, twice baked potatoes, baked beans, mashed potatoes, pigs in a blanket and anything doused in gravy. And, you've got to really load it all up or risk having a church lady snatch it out of your hand and do the job for you. Trust me. I've had this happen and it ain't pretty.

Been to a church potluck and have a story or recipe you'd like to share? I'd love to hear it.

©2012 Fatback and Foie Gras. All rights reserved. This material may not be published, broadcast, rewritten or redistributed without permission.

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Meatloaf Slider Recipe

Item in photo may appear larger than it really is.

I love meatloaf. I love it even more when it's slathered in mayo (Duke's ya'll) and sandwiched in between a soft bun that's served alongside a generous helping of salty potato chips and an ice cold beer. Methinks, I smell a Super Bowl recipe....

Not long ago, I developed a meatloaf recipe for Food Republic (or should I say ripped it off from my mom, the master meatloaf-maker) for a hearty, stick-to-your-ribs loaf doused in a homemade barbecue sauce. On its own, this particular meatloaf recipe is positively swoon-worthy, but slice it up thick and serve it cold on a smushy sandwich with all the proper Southern accoutrements, and it's slap-yo-momma good.

Admittedly, I'm not a big football fan, but I do like watching the Super Bowl for two reasons. First, it's the one day out of the year where it is ok to eat a bunch of crap all day long, and what I mean by crap are white-trashy originals like nachos dripping in Cheez Whiz, bourbon soaked Lil Smokies, ass-burnin' chicken wings, and all kinds of creations made from a box of Bisquick. This is the time when we can all proudly flip the bird at our snot-laden foodie friends while waiting for our turn at the beer bong.

The other reasons is this-- The Puppy Bowl. I mean, who can resist a beagle pup playing in his water bowl via the water bowl cam or a slo-mo replay of a klutzy yellow lab tackling a yappy Yorkie? Throw in shots of a pep squad of baby pigs and roll me over because I am done. It's a beautiful thing, the puppy bowl. Not only does it make me all warm and fuzzy inside, but I can escape being force-ably made to watch the grown-up version.

So, back to the loaf. My recommendation is to make this game day goodie the day before and chill it in the fridge over night before assembling the sandwiches. A proper meatloaf sandwich should never be served hot, otherwise you'll have wilty lettuce and half-cooked mayo to deal with. Speaking of mayo, use full fat mayo, not light or low-fat which often contains twice the amount of sugar (a.k.a. high fructose corn syrup) as the regular stuff. Read the labels. Lower fat anything isn't always the healthiest option because of the innumerable number of processed additions and sugar. Buy regular mayo and spread less of it on your bun if you're watching calories.

For bread, you'll want to get a smaller, snack-size (a.k.a slider) bun. I particularly like Martin's rolls which are super-soft and make for a decidedly less messy sandwich eating experience. Avoid using hard or crusty rolls unless you like squeezing the meat out of your sandwich with each bite.

To serve. Assemble your sandwiches on a big platter and skewer each with a toothpick to hold them together. Also, this recipe makes around 10-12 sandwiches depending on how thick you cut the loaf, so if you have a big crowd coming over, just double up the recipe and make two separate loaves.

Here's the recipe and I hope you enjoy!

BBQ Meatloaf Sliders
Makes 10-12 sliders

Ingredients:

For the sauce:

1 tablespoon vegetable oil
1/2 small onion, minced
2 small garlic cloves, minced
1 cup ketchup
1 tablespoon apple cider vinegar
1 teaspoon soy sauce
2 teaspoons Worcestershire sauce
1/4 cup brown sugar
1 teaspoon chili powder
2 teaspoons hot sauce, (optional)
Salt and pepper, to taste

For the meatloaf:

1 tablespoon vegetable oil
1 large onion, diced
1/2 cup carrots, diced
1/2 cup celery, diced
1 1/2 pounds ground beef, or a mixture of pork and beef
3/4 cup uncooked oats or breadcrumbs
1/2 cup buttermilk
2 eggs, beaten
1/2 teaspoon horseradish
1 tablespoon Worcestershire sauce
1 teaspoon salt
1/2 teaspoon pepper

For Assembly:

Package of 12 soft slider buns
Iceberg lettuce
Mayonnaise
Optional condiments: sliced tomatoes, sliced onion or bread and butter pickles
Toothpicks

Directions:

Preheat your oven to 350 degrees F.

In a medium pot, heat the oil. Add the onion and saute until translucent. Add garlic and saute another couple of minutes. Add ketchup, vinegar, soy sauce, Worcestershire, brown sugar, chili powder and hot sauce. Season with salt and pepper. Cook for about 15-20 minutes, stirring occasionally. Let cool. Note: the sauce can be made up to two days ahead.

In a large pan, add vegetable oil. Then, saute onion, carrot and celery until soft. Remove from pan and cool. In a separate bowl, mix oats, buttermilk, eggs, horseradish, Worcestershire sauce, salt and pepper. Add in 1/4 cup of your pre-made BBQ sauce and mix well. Gently form into an oval loaf and place in a shallow baking dish. Top with additional sauce. Be sure to save some on the side for your sandwiches. Bake for one hour or until a meat thermometer reads 160 degrees.

Let meatloaf cool. Best if chilled overnight.

To make sandwiches. Cut meatloaf into 2-inch thick slices. Slice open buns and place a slice inside each bun (slice again to fit the bun if necessary, but I recommend stacking them up high). Spread a little of the extra BBQ sauce on top of the meatloaf slice and then top with lettuce and any other toppings. Generously slather the top bun with mayo and place a toothpick through the middle to hold sandwich together.
   
©2012 Fatback and Foie Gras. All rights reserved. This material may not be published, broadcast, rewritten or redistributed without permission.

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Crostini Topped with Brie, Balsamic Marinated Strawberries and Arugula

This just might be the easiest and most elegant party appetizer of the season. I first tried this recipe at White Fences Winery in Irvington, Virginia, a small fishing town in the Northern Neck near the Chesapeake Bay. Sadly, the winery is no more, but this fantastic combination of oozy triple creme brie, piquant balsamic strawberries and peppery arugula on top of a crunchy crostini lives on just in time for your next New Year's Eve cocktail party.

If you're looking for a snazzy recipe to add to your holiday repertoire, I highly recommend giving this one a try.

Crostini Topped with Brie, Balsamic Marinated Strawberries and Arugula Recipe

Serves 12

2 tablespoons good quality balsamic vinegar
1/2 tablespoons sugar
1 1/2 cups of strawberries, hulled and sliced
Generous handful of arugula
Extra virgin olive oil
1/2 a sourdough baguette, sliced 1/2-inch thick
8-ounces triple creme brie brought to room temperature
Freshly ground black pepper

In a bowl, mix together vinegar and sugar until sugar is dissolved. Add strawberries. Cover and let sit for 15 minutes to marinate.

Meanwhile, toss arugula with a little olive oil to taste. Add a couple spins of the pepper mill and toss again. Set aside.

Lightly brush crostini's with olive oil and toast on each side.

To assemble: spread each piece of toasted baguette with brie. Then top with a couple of strawberries and arugula. Garnish with a bit of extra black pepper. Serve immediately. Repeat with any remaining ingredients.

©2011 Fatback and Foie Gras. All rights reserved. This material may not be published, broadcast, rewritten or redistributed without permission. Pin It Now!