The Town Tart

The Tart's March on the Lee Bros.

The Lee Bros. Southern Cookbook tops my 2007 List... of biggest disappointments for the year.

I had high hopes here.  I actually coveted this book.  In recent months (maybe even a year) I have seriously curtailed my cookbook buying.  Space constraints in the Hut, plus finding that I have too many cookbooks that I only use for one recipe, have left a bad taste in my mouth.  Epicurious and foodie mags are my BFFs.

But, the Lee Bros. book I wanted.  I would sit in a Borders or a Barnes and lovingly turn its pages, thinking, okay -- one day, I will buy the book.  And so I did.  And it sat around awhile because I haven't been cooking too much lately.

And then I see the Lee Bros. on Anthony Bourdain's "No Reservations" and was completely turned off.  Pretentious and effeminate, they are the antithesis of Tony -- and I felt he even got a bit foppish with them, drinking Champagne and eating oysters on a South Carolina beach... yeah, that's how all South Carolinians picnic.  Or posing around Charleston in tuxedos.  For self-professed "low-country" boys, this seemed way to high-brow for me.

Anyway, the book still called to me so I set out a-cooking.  Of course, I had to make Boiled Peanuts.  I also made "A New Crab Dip," "Pork Chops with Vidalia Onions and Pears," "Grits with Blue Cheese," and "Sweet Potato Pie."  With the exception of the Boiled Peanuts (and really, how do you screw that up?) everything was a disappointment.

The Boiled Peanuts are really irresistible but I refuse to credit the Bros. for it.  It's like every other "recipe" out there:  boil some peanuts in salted water.  Well, duh.  I love them -- can't stop eating them.  I love to stick a whole shell in my mouth, slightly bite down to break the shell and let all of the briny water squirt into my mouth.  Typing that just now caused me to salivate.  Oh lordy, they are good.

The crab dip was built up to be a revelation: "a relief" from the gloppy hot crab dips of potlucks past.  It wasn't.  I used good crab, fresh tarragon, good quality mayonnaise -- and it was really underwhelming.  I was angry I paid so much for the crab meat -- what a waste.

The Pork Chops with Vidalia Onions and Pears were another so-so dish.  It was easy enough to throw together, but the flavors were bland.  The grits were also bland, but I find them bland no matter who makes them.  I'd rather go with polenta -- I like the texture better and I would add more blue cheese.  All in all, it was okay, but I am sick of okay.  I want a plate that just makes me go "Wow" like the Barefoot Contessa does for me.

Finally, the biggest disappointment for me:  the Sweet Potato Pie.  Yuck.  And The Mayor, who hates all things sweet potato, liked it, so I KNOW something is wrong with it.

My first problem:  the Bros. have you steam diced sweet potato.  What a missed flavor opportunity there.  Why not roast them?  Why not boil them in orange juice?  Anything other than steaming them.  Sheesh.

Then, there is too much lemon juice added.  Two tablespoons is just too much.  It made the pie acidic.

They called for 1/2 cup of sugar.  Again, another missed opportunity.  Why not brown sugar or molasses or something with some depth?  Even honey?  I don't know.  Maybe they were going for something completely different than the traditional -- but sometimes traditional flavors are traditional for a reason... cuz they taste good.  They claimed this pie was their crowd-pleaser.  I have to wonder who in the hell they are cooking for, because when I eat a sweet potato pie, I have certain expectations and this didn't meet one of them.

The result was a bland, tart, pie with little going for it.  No depth, no richness.  Just blandville.

I will not deny that the book is a work of art.  It is truly beautiful, and the boys with their stories make it folksy enough that it can be a transporting experience.  But I think this is where people are getting off course.  I read reviews of this book and everyone described how beautiful the book was and how great the recipes "sounded" -- but does anyone actually cook a recipe to see if it works or tastes good?  I never read, "Oh you must try the blah blah blah... it's a keeper!"  Not once.

The Lee Bros. Southern Cooking is fine as a coffee table book -- but cooking from it?  It doesn't live up to the hype.   

Welcoming Committee

Welcome to the neighborhood!  Your next door neighbor is a psycho.

So, these very lovely people move in next door to the Hut.  Husband, wife, and a big ol' bulldog named Lola.  I am in heaven. 

I see and hear them all day doing the moving-in kinda stuff, but I can't go out to greet them because my hands are empty.  There is just something wrong with me... I can't say "Welcome to the Hood" without an offering.  I also can't say, "I'm saying hi now and I will be back with a pie later."  I am a total jerk.

Meanwhile, the Mayor is out there saying hello and doing his mayoral duties.  And obviously the neighbors are thinking what is the matter with the shrew who won't come out of her house like some Leona Helmsley witch, holed up in her Hut.

But, what was really going on was I was making this damn pie.  An apple one.  I was standing at the friggin' sink peeling Granny Smiths like it was my job.  And when I thought I was done, lo and behold I found an escapee hiding under my pink kitchen gloves.  Damn you, I'll peel you yet.

After the peeling and the chopping and mixing and the baking and the cooling (the recipe said to cool 2 hours -- I didn't have the time, man!  One hour and a towel will have to do.) it was 8:30pm.  And now I say to the Mayor, "We have to go next door -- now!"  He is already in jammy mode, watching a movie and settling in for the night on the sofa with Crookshanks. "Now?!"  Yes.  Now.

We knock on the door.  The husband is also in jammy mode -- well, boxers and a t-shirt.  The wife is brushing her teeth.  Jeezy creezy, I've ruined everyone's night.  I pleaded with them that I didn't want to come in -- I just wanted to drop the pie off to say welcome and show them that I am not an ass.  They accept the pie graciously and quick small talk ensues on the porch.  The wife then says she is worried about the cat because she isn't adjusting to the move.  I say I have some Rescue Remedy which may help and go back home to get it.

She and I sit on the bed and take the poor creature out of the closet and administer a drop or two of Rescue Remedy in her mouth.  She takes off and hides back in the closet.  Then, the wife and I proceed to yak for nearly TWO HOURS while the husbands are stuck outside, sitting on the Hut's front porch in their boxers.

Towards the end of this, the wife says to me, "We should check on the cat.  I hope you didn't kill her.  Wouldn't that be something?  I'd say to my husband, Gee, they are really nice people, baked us a pie and all, but they killed our cat."

Now I'm sick.  I have dragged the Mayor away from his movie (thank god for Tivo), I have pushed the husband out to the front porch in his underwear, I've got the wife up until all hours and I think I've killed the cat.  Also, did I mention the pie was an untested recipe?  I'm pushing the limits on all fronts. 

I had to take a Klonopin to sleep.

Early the next morning, I am up to listen for any signs of wailing or gnashing of teeth.  God, please do not let the cat be dead.  I see them pile into their car and speed away.  Jesus, are they rushing to the vet?  I need another pharmaceutical.  I am a wreck.

A few hours later, they return.  The wife floats out of the car being pulled by Lola the bulldog.  She shouts through our open front door:

"Hello!  The pie was fantastic!  Had it for breakfast!  The cat is doing so much better!  Thank you!  We love you!"

Cinnamon Apple Pie with Raisins and Crumb Topping
Adapted from Bon Appetit Magazine

Crust:
1 1/2 cups all purpose flour
1 tablespoon sugar
1/2 teaspoon salt
1/8 teaspoon baking powder
1/2 cup (1 stick) chilled unsalted butter, cut into 1/2-inch cubes
1/4 cup (or more ice water
1 teaspoon apple cider vinegar

Filling:
1 cup (packed) golden brown sugar
3 tablespoons all purpose flour
2 teaspoons finely grated lemon peel
1 1/4 teaspoons cinnamon
2 3/4 pounds Granny Smith apples (about 6 medium), peeled, halved, cored, cut into 1/8-inch-thick slices (about 8 cups)
1 cup raisins
2 teaspoons vanilla extract

Crumb Topping:
1 cup all purpose flour
1/2 cup (packed) golden brown sugar
1 teaspoon cinnamon
1/8 teaspoon salt
1/2 cup (1 stick) chilled unsalted butter, cut into 1/2-inch cubes

Lightly sweetened whipped cream or vanilla ice cream

For Crust: Blend flour, sugar, salt, and baking powder in processor. Add butter; pulse until mixture resembles coarse meal. Mix 1/4 cup ice water and vinegar in small bowl; add to processor and pulse until moist clumps form, adding more ice water by teaspoonfuls if mixture is dry. Gather dough into ball; flatten into disk. Wrap plastic and chill at least 1 hour. (Can be made 1 day ahead. Keep chilled. Soften slightly at room temperature before rolling out.)

[Who are we kidding? I used refrigerated dough. Sue me.]

Roll out dough on floured work surface to 13-inch round. Transfer to 9-inch diameter deep-dish glass pie dish. Fold edges under and crimp, forming crust sides 1/4 inch above rim of pie dish. Freeze crust 20 minutes.

For Filling: Position rack in center of oven and preheat to 375 degrees. Mix brown sugar, flour, lemon peel, and cinnamon in a large bowl. Add apple slices, raisins, and vanilla; toss until well coated. Transfer filling to unbaked crust, mounding filling slightly in center. Bake pie until apples begin to soften, about 40 minutes.

Meanwhile, prepare crumb topping: Whisk flour, sugar, cinnamon, and salt in small bowl. Add butter and rub in with fingertips until mixture begins to clump together.

Sprinkle topping evenly over hot pie. Continue to bake pie until apples are tender [sorry -- need to interject here -- how in the hell are you supposed to tell when the apples are "tender" when there is a whole heaping pile of brown sugar crusting on top... I hate these types of instructions -- they are meaningless and not helpful] and topping is browned and crisp, tenting the pie with sheet of foil if browning too quickly, about 50 minutes. Cool pie on rack at least two hours.

Cut pie into wedges and serve warm or at room temperature with whipped cream or vanilla ice cream.