Juneteenth

Remember to start with fresh spices for that sweet, savory, and spicy balance.

Southerners love a good red velvet cake the way they love good, juicy gossip. That’s because there’s inherent drama in a towering white cake that, beneath swaths of innocent cream cheese frosting, possesses a shockingly crimson interior. Of course, they also love red velvet cake for its twangy buttermilk and cocoa–infused flavor and exceptionally smooth, supple crumb.

My mom’s vinegar-based barbecue sauce, which she made to go along with my dad’s pulled pig, is utterly addictive. Sprinkle it over Wood-Smoked Backyard Barbecued Pig (page 170) or Slow-Roasted Pulled Pork Butt (page 177).

I use buttery Yukon Gold potatoes and a sprinkling of fresh dill in my version of my mom’s classic picnic-style potato salad. It’s best before being refrigerated, when it’s still slightly warm and extra creamy, so try to make it just before serving, if time allows.

Memphis is known for its dry-rubbed barbecued ribs, which are all about intense spices and the unadorned texture of low-and-slow-cooked meat. The two-step cooking process I use here—the meat is first slow-cooked in the oven, then finished over a hot grill—ensures succulent, crispy-edged, tender ribs every time, rendering sauce fully optional. Even so, sauce person that I am, I usually can’t help myself from cooking the meat in beer and basting it with vinegar-based barbecue sauce for a little added flavor and tang. You can try making these ribs with and without the sauce and decide for yourself. Either way, you’ll need to let the ribs marinate for at least two or three hours before cooking.

When Paul Prudhomme’s first cookbook, Chef Paul Prudhomme’s Louisiana Kitchen, came out, I think I made every last one of his gumbos in the span of a few weeks. To this day, his are the recipes I always refer to when I make gumbo. More often than not, however, I don’t have time to make ultra traditional, slow-cooking gumbo, so I’ve adapted my own quicker—and often lighter—versions that take a fraction of the time but still pack loads of soulful flavor. Served over rice with ice-cold beer, it’s all the excuse you need to throw a block party.

When Southerners say “tea,” they mean basic black—as in Lipton or Tetley, not English Breakfast or Earl Grey—iced and sweet. It is the ubiquitous, unofficial drink of the South.

Filled with Caribbean flavors, this dinner is made to be enjoyed outdoors. You will need twelve metal or wooden skewers. To keep them from scorching on the grill, soak wooden skewers in water while preparing the ingredients.

Once the Deep South’s secret, red velvet cake definitely has the nation’s attention. The cake’s distinctive color, the result of a chemical reaction between acidic vinegar and buttermilk and Dutch-processed cocoa, was originally much more subdued than that of its present incarnation. A dose of food coloring is called for to pump that reddish brown into the true red that distinguishes this cake from all the rest. The sweet and lightly chocolaty cake is layered and frosted with an indulgently rich vanilla buttercream. Made with vanilla bean seeds instead of extract, the creamy frosting sports the telltale brown flecks that signal the pure vanilla flavor to come. Some red velvet cakes I’ve tried have been a bit on the dry side, but not this one. It’s incredibly moist thanks to the buttermilk and a measure of canola oil.

What could be more American than a pot of baked beans? From “Beantown’s” own Boston baked beans to one of the South’s favorite sides for a plate of barbecue, baked beans are an integral part of our culinary heritage. Molasses is a traditional ingredient here; its dark, rich flavor and thick texture give the dish its characteristic sweetness and consistency. I use a little less than most folks and supplement it with a generous dose of honey to mellow it out and allow the rest of the flavorings—dark rum and barbecue sauce among them—to shine. My southwestern culinary leanings are what prompt me to use black beans. I like their somewhat firm texture, but you could certainly use traditional navy beans if you’d prefer. The fat and smoky flavor of bacon is essential. Double-smoked bacon gives you even more of that amazing taste.

Those of us who grew up within spittin’ distance of Louisiana know that unsweetened iced tea is practically un-American. Furthermore, a family get-together in Texas just isn’t right without a big, fat, sweating pitcher of sweet iced tea. So here’s my latest, most favorite iced tea recipe, inspired (ironically) by a vendor at New York City’s biggest farmers’ market—the Union Square Greenmarket. I discovered it on a broiling August afternoon after buying a paper-cupful for one dollar. It was beyond refreshing, with a hint of mint, a kiss of citrus, and just the right touch of New England maple syrup. Naturally, I substitute Texas honey for my version. My mother always made iced tea the old-fashioned way, by boiling water, steeping the tea, and cooling it off with loads of ice. But my coauthor’s mother, Patricia Oresman, gave me a better idea. She used to make sun tea by leaving a pitcher full of water and tea bags in the sun for several hours. One day she put the tea bags in a pitcher full of water but never did get around to setting it out on her sunny backyard porch. She returned to the kitchen a few hours later to find perfectly brewed no-sun sun tea. Now she makes kitchen-counter iced tea year-round, no solar energy needed. How long does she let the tea bags steep? “I let it sit until it gets the color I think it should be,” she says.

Named after the golfer who declared his love for it decades ago, this libation is a classic and refreshing tea and lemonade combination with a special little Bubby’s twist: pink lemonade with rose hip and mint teas. Few beverages are more refreshing.

Red velvet cake has inspired as many theories about its provenance as there are recipes in a Junior League cookbook. The question cannot be definitively answered. We do at least know why the cake is red: most red velvet cakes use acidic ingredients—buttermilk and vinegar—and cocoa, which contains a reddish pigment called anthocyanin. The acidic buttermilk reacts with the cocoa and actually makes this red pigment appear even redder. Somewhere along the line, someone decided the cake needed a little more rouge and added red food coloring. Some chefs try to gussy it up using beet juice or deconstruct it into something it’s not. My friend Angie Mosier, who is an incredible baker in her own right, once very aptly described red velvet cake as “the Dolly Parton of cakes—she’s a little bit tacky, but you love her.”

My granny always made this punch. She practically raised me; we lived with her until my daddy bought us a house and moved us out when I was still a little boy. My grandmother was a hardworking Southern woman, always cooking and cleaning her house. This is her recipe for as refreshing and fragrant a summer drink as you can imagine—a really intensely flavored version of sweet tea, if you will. It’s a family favorite to this day. (It doesn’t call for Crown Royal, and I don’t even mind.) One thing, though: My granny’s last name wasn’t Jenkins, and she never did tell me who this recipe is originally named after; that’s a mystery for the ages, I guess.

The limes we grew in Texas are almost a hybrid lemon-lime and we used them to make “ades.” It wasn’t until I was much older that I realized other people usually used lemons, not limes. This is the recipe I grew up with, and it works just as perfectly with the limes you can buy at the store as it did with the limes we grew.

Sometimes it’s good to buck tradition. This recipe breaks away from the creamy cold potato salad and tests the theory that “everything is better on the outdoor grill.” This recipe, which I originally created for SOUTHERN LIVING magazine in 2009, answers the question with a resounding “Absolutely!” Grilled Potato Salad starts with traditional ingredients such as potatoes, onions, mayonnaise, and mustard but takes an unfamiliar twist by utilizing a complex dry rub, which adds a vibrant punch of flavor. This unique recipe will draw raves served hot off the grill but is also good eatin’ out of the fridge the next day.

Some of my favorite times away from Big Bob Gibson’s have been spent learning the secrets of jerk barbecue in Jamaica. The cooking techniques and flavors of this wonderful Caribbean island are truly unique and magnificent. Scotch bonnet peppers, allspice, onions, garlic, and pimento-wood smoke make Jamaica a barbecue destination. By using these same Caribbean flavors on a pork picnic, which is the lower portion of a pig’s shoulder, authentic Jamaican Jerk can be made at home. If you are lucky enough to visit Jamaica, be sure to get out of the cities and locate any of the well-known jerk shacks scattered over the island. Most Jamaican barbecue joints contain two open-air barbecue pits, one for chicken and another for pork. Cooking pork on the chicken pit is strictly prohibited. A cooking grate made from pimento-wood logs laid side by side is placed directly over a bed of pimento-wood coals; to keep the wood grate from burning, the pitmaster hand turns each log every hour, and the pork or chicken on the cooking grate is covered with a thin sheet of corrugated metal. This simplest of cookers proves that it is not the sophistication of the cooker but the knowledge of the cook that produces the best ’Q! In 2003, my wife, Amy, and I went to Jamaica to cook in the International Jamaican Jerk Style/Southern Barbecue Cook-Off. Cooking teams from all over the world, including Switzerland, Puerto Rico, Germany, England, the United States, and Jamaica, competed in the event. Each team was given the same raw ingredients: two barrel grills, two chickens, two slabs of ribs, two pork butts, and two red snappers. The chickens were fresh and free range. I use the term “free range” with a bit of sarcasm because these beauties were muscled-up and tough. When holding the ribs up to the sky, beams of sunlight penetrated this thin cut of meat (Jamaican ribs: SPF 15). The cut of pork was unlike any I had ever seen. It contained a portion of the shoulder and of the neck, and it even had four ribs attached. Nonetheless, we were all on an even playing field—or grill. We had eighteen hours to prepare our entries and serve them to a group of judges comprised of an equal number of Jamaican and international judges. A “blind” judging procedure was used to score each category. By combining local jerk flavors with cooking techniques learned back home at Big Bob’s, we captured the Grand Championship.

Gina: This light-colored sangria, made with white wine, is as beautiful as it is refreshing and delicious. You can make and serve this drink immediately, but it’s even better if you can prepare it in advance, so the fruit flavors have a chance to permeate the wine.

Gina: You don’t think my whimsy ends with cocktails, do you? Sweet iced tea is the elixir of the South, so I decided that our Neely “house” tea needed to have a little pizzazz. Honey, I found it by combining fresh raspberries with hibiscus tea, which has a brilliant crimson color and beautiful fruit-and-floral flavors.

Gina: Red Velvet Cake is beloved throughout the South. It’s sweet and moist, with a deep-crimson hue that comes from the addition of red food coloring to the cake batter. In the old days, folks used beets or red cabbage to dye their cakes! Red Velvet is a buttermilk cake, which is one of the reasons it’s so moist; there’s also cocoa in the batter, which is one of the reasons it’s popular with children (that, and the traditional cream-cheese frosting). It’s red and white, but it tastes black and white, and it’s always a stunner when you cut into one. Making someone a layer cake is an investment. It takes time, hon. But it’s also a beautiful, loving gesture, and nicer than any present you can buy. This sexy cake is easier than you might think to assemble, and the results are sure to steal the show at any party.

Pat: This is our take on a po’ boy, one of the defining sandwiches of the South. We take a hot, crispy cornmeal crusted catfish fillet and slather it with a piquant (easy to make) sweet pickle mayo, then toss some tart pickles, seasoned tomatoes, and shredded lettuce onto a hoagie roll. This is a meal that’s more than a sandwich—it’s a masterpiece!

Supposedly whoopie pies get their name from the fact that Amish women would occasionally pack these treats in the farmer's lunchboxes and when discovered the men would yell "Whoopie!" Traditionally whoopie pies are two round mounds of chocolate cake with a creamy frosting sandwiched in between. For a twist on tradition, I love to make Red Velvet Whoopie pies.

Bright yellow mango sweetens the deal and adds a dose of vitamin A, which helps keep your skin glowing and clear.

This makes an unexpected drink to serve porch-side visitors. With its beautiful color and sweet-tart cranberrylike flavor, guests will want to know where you had to go to find hibiscus pods, how interesting (and easy) it was to make, and talk about the sheer fact that hibiscus is edible. Be aware that with its deep red coloring, you shouldn't use a light-colored tablecloth.