A colleague of mine at the old Raleigh Times had a solution whenever he ran out of story ideas. He would announce that he was going on a "news scour."
This declaration meant that he would be gone for the remainder of the day. Perhaps he'd be getting coffee, maybe pestering some city politicians or driving to the coast to check on his boat. But he'd usually come back with something that could make it into print.
(Yes, Triangle newbies, there was a newspaper before there was a bar, although during the golden age of journalism the two were sometimes combined.)
Today, a "news scour," when necessary, is easier for food columnists, thanks to the Internet.
On CNN's Eatocracy, I came across Oxford, Miss., chef John Currence's nominees for "Five Southern Dishes that Deserve a Comeback." Oh, really? Let's see.
Currence's first dish is gumbo z'herbes or green gumbo, a Louisiana blend of greens and pork. It's sometimes served over potato salad instead of rice.
I ate the gumbo "traditionally" on potato salad once. It was exceedingly strange, like soup poured over cold mayo. The dish may merit a return, but it won't get one, between the 'tater salad and the Z in the name that diners won't be able to pronounce.
Then, hoe cakes. Don't laugh. Actually, they are flat, cornmeal griddle cakes that traditionally were baked on the flat blades of hoes over open fires.
When I think of them, I'm reminded of the first corn bread I ever baked, using a recipe from my mother in which she had omitted the leavening. I made three or four tries before figuring out why my corn bread was like a board.
I'm sure Currence's version of hoe cakes at his restaurant, City Grocery, is great, but I'll pass. Too much personal baggage.
His third pick is tomato aspic with homemade mayonnaise. Are we going to vote for Ike and wear heels while we vacuum, too? I think of this aspic more as a 1950s happy-homemaker dish than as a particularly Southern one. Currence says it's a good way to use the abundance of summer tomatoes. I say it's just tomato Jell-O, and I'm having none of it. A waste of excellent mayonnaise.
Then, he nominates smothered chicken. He didn't say what it's smothered with, so I looked it up. "Cooking Up a Storm: Recipes Lost and Found from the Times-Picayune of New Orleans" by Marcelle Bienvenu and Judy Walker (Chronicle Books, 2008) explains that smothering is a Southern technique similar to braising. Vegetables and chicken are cooked in broth in a covered pot until the meat falls apart. I can get behind stewed, comfort-food goodness.
Currence's final suggestion is a food I passionately endorse: pimiento cheese. When Yankees are eating peanut butter, this is what Southerners want. Unfortunately, there is a lot of bad pimiento cheese out there, shimmering and radioactive orange in plastic tubs.
I agree with his advice to make your own and experiment. His mother puts jalapenos, chipotle hot sauce and green chiles in hers. I use garlic, onion (red or sweet, depending on the feistiness of my mood) and two kinds of cheese.
My picks for a similar list would be too numerous. Instead, I'd like to be contrarian and offer Three Southern Dishes that Should Never Be Seen Again.
Fried green tomatoes. Calm down - I like fried green tomatoes just fine. But they have become a shorthand for cooks who want to "Southernize" their dishes, and they're often badly prepared. It's not that easy to make good ones. They need to be fresh and properly fried. Prepare them at home, when frost is about to kill the unripe tomatoes on your backyard vines, but avoid them on most menus.
Macaroni and cheese with anything in it besides macaroni and cheese. Southern versions of the dish have eggs, milk and cheese, none of the bizarre mix-ins popular today. It's dinner, folks, not an ice cream toppings bar.
Anything encased in gelatin. My mother used to embed cole slaw in lemon gelatin. Not even homemade mayo could have saved that.
I'm sure I'll hear about my big three, especially the fried green tomatoes. People seem to either adore or despise them. But, be nice. Or I'll have to buy a boat and name it the News Scour.
