A family destination wedding at the San Juan Ritz Hotel combined a family reunion, vacation and “fairytale dream-come- true-afternoon” for Donna’s two nieces.

Guests were treated to two luxurious feasts (Roast pig on Friday and Island Specialties on Saturday) leading up to the delicious Grilled Lobster and Steak Wedding Dinner.

#1  Cook eggs correctly to achieve a soft tender yolk.

[Heat to a boil over medium-high heat. Turn off heat. Let stand 15 minutes. Drain. Shake pot gently to crack shells as eggs rub together. Remove shells under warm-as-possible water. Most instructions advise cold water, but  the warm-water tip consistently gets the thumbs up.

#2 Press egg yolks through a ricer

This simple tool makes all the difference with texture.

#3  Mix while yolks are warm.

It’s a subtle difference, but mixture goes together smoothly.

#4  Graceful finish

Place filling in a resealable food storage bag with a small snipped corner to fill the eggs decoratively. 

#5 Refrigerate at least 2 hours before serving

If you don’t have a deviled egg dish (in other words, you’re camping or you didn’t have a southern grandmother) place toothpicks in several eggs before covering with plastic wrap to keep plastic from touching the eggs placed on a regular plate.

Before the Kitchen Fills Up…
Beaten Biscuits, Bread Pudding, Sweet Potato Rolls and Hush Puppy Muffins
Southern Yeast Roll DoughHush Puppy Muffins
Dough leftover from Parker House rolls were shaped into impromptu cinnamon rolls
Hush Puppy Muffins
Shrimp in parchment for Salad with Homemade Croutons

Beaten Biscuits, Country Ham and Annie Fisher top my research to-do list while visiting Dad in Columbia, Missouri, located in Boone County.

Boone County (salt-cured) hams were already renowned when Mrs. Fisher served her incredible biscuits at the St. Louis 1904 World’s Fair.

We’re off to Washington D.C. and Christmas Eve Gumbo, Oyster Loaves and a couple of chef interviews as soon as we clear a path in the snow.

Make Your Own Valentine

By Donna Pierce

I was too far away to view much more than the big box and the little girl. She

was making her way through a four-way intersection beside a gentle-looking old

man who wore a crossing-guard sash. The box she carried was so big — she had

to hold her arms outstretched to manage it — that if I hadn’t seen the guard,

I would have worried about her safety.

She looked to be about 8 years old, bundled against the frigid morning wind in

a bright fuchsia parka, wearing fleece-lined mittens and a knitted scarf so

tightly wrapped around her face that only her shining brown eyes were visible.

I could tell she was chatting because a steady stream of vapory puffs blew out

from behind the scarf, and the guard kept nodding his head and smiling. She

put down the box for a moment when they reached the curb. Then she turned,

blew out one more puff of a word and waved goodbye to the guard. To Read More...

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Roll Call

January 31, 2010

By Donna Pierce

I awakened yesterday before dawn and rushed into the kitchen to pull out my ceramic bowl reserved for batters and doughs. Even before coffee, the sight of my hands lowering the heavy white bowl down from the cabinet made me smile.

“Good morning,” I said.

To an outside observer this greeting may have appeared directed to an empty kitchen. But that was not the case.

To Read More

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Birthday Lessons

January 25, 2010

By Donna Pierce

Dad and I celebrated my mother’s birthday this past Saturday with her favorite deviled eggs, broiled chicken, asparagus, and the feather-light, southern yeast rolls my grandmother baked during Mama’s childhood to mark every special occasion. Mom was not with us physically. (She made her transition in 2003.)

But following the long weekend basking in the luxury of putting together meals for my dad, I can tell you with assurance that my mother’s memory lives on in the kitchen she cooked in for more than 40 years.

Stirring, whisking, kneading and rolling, I worked in silence, remembering one moment how delighted Mom had been with the olive oil mister purchased at the Greenbrier, the weekend we spent there together with me attending a workshop and her taking classes from some of her cookbook heroes.

When I spread the towel, she once explained as belonging to her great- grandmother over shaped roll dough, waiting for the second rise, I remembered how my mother always added a childhood food memory from “down the Bay” in Mobile as she gently unfolded the linen.  To read more….

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“Mom of the Year”

From the January Archives

If  I hadn’t decided to move back to my home office, another year would have probably gone by without me realizing that I am no longer winning the Best Mom of the Year Award. This weekend when my son and I unpacked boxes of files and books in my home office, I looked up at the wall over my new computer and wondered aloud why I hadn’t received a new certificate in two years. John shrugged off the question and I didn’t expect an explanation. I understood that my annual award was another casualty of his becoming a teenager

The awards became our annual tradition when John was in kindergarten. There were scribbles and a hand-drawn heart on a  piece of  red construction paper. I could make out my name but that year before he learned how to read, I had to trust him with the wording. The next January, when Star Trek was a big hit at our house, the award was temporarily upgraded to Best Mom of the Universe. To read more…

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Help Haiti

January 17, 2010

By Donna Pierce

He and his wife were one day away from Christmas  in their Parisian apartment when I met with Joel Dryfuss one month ago at TheRoot.com’s Dupont Circle offices in Washington D.C.

We spoke about families, food, mutual friends, food, the future of journalism, food and his return to DC. where he had lived many years before. We also spoke about Haiti…his beloved homeland and…what else? Food, of course.

He described Hatian specialties such as Riz Djon Djon (a rice dish made black with mushrooms found only in Haiti) and Griot, a glazed pork dish seasoned with peppers and bitter oranges and served with a spicy sauce known as Ti-Malice and fried plantain slices.

To read more….

Look for this site in “Beta” to go live as we finish our first round of video edits, link updates and recipes. Until then, send comments, recipe requests, suggestions and tips to dp@soul2keep.com

Thanks for all the enthusiasm…I’m excited as the train is about to leave the station. For those who inquired about the above photo: It’s my son, John Eliot, and me in Paris (1984) ready to board a TGV (fast) train to Lyon for dinner at Paul Bocuse restaurant near Lyon. (Actually John spent the evening at our Lyon hotel with a French babysitter; his Dad and I enjoyed a fantastic meal.)

Celebrate his birthday with what has been described as his favorite dessert.

Is it?

A. Banana Pudding

B. Butterscotch Ice Cream Sundae

C. Peach Cobbler

D. Pecan Pie

Click here for the answer (and recipe)

For moms who drive carpools

and moms who coach teams.

For moms who believe in

and nurture young dreams.

For moms of adults,

and mommies with tots.

For stay-at-home mothers

and those who do not.

For moms who can’t rest

with new babies at home.

And those sleep deprived

on nights teenagers roam.

For moms who are strict

and to those known for lenience.

For moms who cook daily

or choose drive-through convenience.

For moms who choose kids,

and those babies are born to.

For step-moms, grandmothers

and all others who come through….

with promises kept for

a lifelong commitment

to open your heart

and keep kids safe within it.

Thanks for meatloaf and gravy

and poppy seed cake.

Thanks for beans…red and navy

and biscuits that flake.

Thanks for grits and polenta

and soups left to simmer.

Thanks for family occasions…

cousins invited to dinner.

Thanks for blueberry pancakes

and strawberry pie.

Thanks for turkey and dressing,

loaves flavored with rye.

Thanks for collard greens

cooked

with a small dash of bacon.

Thanks for chicken soup, orange juice

and broths to sooth aching.

Thanks for corn on the cob

and red peppers, roasted.

Huckleberries, persimmons

and marshmallows, toasted.

brisket

velvet cakes colored red.

Thanks for bagels, injera

and other great bread.

Thanks for couscous and sushi

and sweetened ice teas.

Thanks for tacos, tamales

and pasta with peas.

Thanks for burgers with mustard

and baked macaroni,

Thanks for salsa and ketchup

and thick minestrone.

Thanks for chocolate chip

cookies

and blackberry jam.

Thanks for Boston Cream Pie

and Boone County ham.

Thanks for strawberry

smoothies,

grape juice and punch.

Thanks for butterscotch sundaes

and grilled cheese for lunch.

Thanks for chicken pot pie

and fried green tomatoes.

Thanks for Kosher dill pickles

and mashed Irish potatoes.

Thanks for stir fries and French fries

and onion rings, too.

Thanks for tandoori chicken,

poi and venison stew.

Thanks for waking up early

to bake cinnamon rolls

Thanks for slice-and-bake cookies

and s’mores over coals.

Thanks for big feasts for dozens

and snacks all alone.

Thanks for seasoning my life

with the flavors of home.