Saturday, November 19, 2016
On the night of the election, I finished glazing an Election Cake I had made for the occasion. It sat, shiny and enticing, on a cake stand on my kitchen counter while friends started to arrive to watch the returns. Anxious but hopeful, we sipped wine, ate snacks, and made jokes to ease our nerves. As the numbers came in and more and more states turned red, though, we could no longer bring ourselves to eat. We sat, mouths agape, starting at the TV screen, our phones, and the little meter on the New York Times page. For days after, that Election Cake sat on my counter, untouched. I couldn't bear to even slice it. It somehow became an embodiment of my post-election emotions-- sadness, anger, fear -- until I finally threw it out a few days ago. I still have those emotions, but am moving forward, trying to apply them towards positive actions-- digging back into work, calling my representatives, donating what I can to organizations I believe in, going through a checklist of things to take care of before January 20th, attending meetings with local civil rights groups, informing myself on other perspectives, strategizing.
I'm very ready for some time with my family over Thanksgiving, but I also know that many of friends and peers are worried about the trip home. At this moment of hostility and violent outbreaks towards wide swaths of the population, it can feel uncomfortable and scary to be in an unwelcome environment-- whether that's amongst familly members who may have voted for the president-elect, or just being in communities with high levels of Trump support. The thought of sitting down at the table, actually enjoying a big meal, and avoiding any politics can seem impossible.
But having these hard conversations are important. Talking with people we disagree with, especially if they're a loved one, is one powerful way that we can buck the divisiveness that this election and incoming administration has wrought. This isn't about party politics. This is about connecting with people we care about, listening, being respectful, asking questions, and calmly voicing where we stand and why. Easier said than done, I know. But there are some great toolkits out there that offer information and support for how best to approach this. I highly recommend this thorough handbook composed by the folks who created the Oh Crap! What Now? Survival Guide, along with Southern Poverty Law Center's "Speak Up: Responding to Everyday Bigotry" for when you do encounter offensive language and actions. Bustle also has a good brief article focused on conversations with relatives. In addition, I recommend seeking insight from artists, writers, musicians, civil rights leaders, feminists, and faith leaders, particularly those who are experienced organizers, activists, and community strongholds. Audre Lorde's "The Uses of Anger: Women Responding to Racism" and Ruby Sales' On Being interview "Where Does It Hurt" have been great sources of wisdom for me these past few days.
If you do get to a hard spot in a conversation with a family or friend, take a break, go for a walk, eat more turkey, bake a pie, throw some darts, play loud guitar-- whatever it is you need to do to cope. Try not to think about what you could have said or how you could have said it better. Come back, tell the person you love them, and know that even the smallest opening towards understanding is valuable. And for those who have families who are on the same page, consider how you might direct that group energy. Have a family phone bank or email circle and contact your representatives while you eat leftovers. Look for post-Thanksgiving volunteer opportunities with organizations that support women, people of color, LGBTQIA folks, Muslims, and immigrants. Support local business (particularly those owned by any of the above populations). Share ideas and strategies. Whichever scenario you find yourself in, find little ways to counter hateful, divisive rhetoric.
One of the reasons I'm so drawn to pie, after all, is because it demands social gathering. A pie is a communal dish, meant to be sliced and shared, while sitting around a table with family and friends-- old or newly-made. At its core, pie is a community catalyst, humble, (generally) homemade, a vehicle for love. It can be employed as such, not just on Thanksgiving, but in community dinners, and potlucks, and church suppers throughout the year, throughout these four years, and beyond. In that spirit, here is the Nothing in the House annual Thanksgiving Pe Guide. This year, I'm leaning towards making a Cranberry Chess Pie, Sweet Potato Pecan Pie, and a Katherine Hepburn Brownie Pie with Speculoos and Bourbon, but I'm going to make a game-time decision. If you don't find quite what you're looking for, check out the Recipe Index, as well as past guides from 2015, 2014, 2013, and 2012. I'd love to hear about your Thanksgiving pies, and your dinner conversations too. Happy Thanksgiving, everyone.
Pumpkin, Squash & Sweet Potato
Delicata Squash Pie
Drunken Pumpkin Bourbon Pie with Mascarpone Cream
One-Pie Pumpkin Pie
Sweet Potato Pie with Cornmeal Crust
Sweet Potato Sonker (pictured, bottom right)
Sweet Potato Speculoos Pie
Cranberry Chess Pie
Anna Gillen's Grape Pie (pictured, top right)
Pear Tarte Tatin
Salted Butter Apple Galette
Chocolate & Nuts
Bittersweet Chocolate Pecan Pie
Black Walnut Pie
Bourbon Ginger Pecan Pie
Cranberry Chocolate Chess Pie
Katherine Hepburn Brownie Pie (pictured, top left)
Pecan Pie with Brown Sugar
Custard & Cheese
Black Bottom Lemon Pie (pictured, bottom left)
Hoosier Sugar Cream Pie
Maple Bourbon Buttermilk Pie with Apple Syrup
Pumpkin-Ginger Cheesecake Pie
Salty Honey Pie
Beef Picadillo Pie with Mashed Potatoes
Pear, Gruyere & Caramelized Onion Hand Pies
Pimento Cheese and Tomato PiePuff Pastry Hand Pies with Goat Cheese & Hot Pepper Jelly
Swiss Chard & Goat Cheese Galette
Sunday, November 06, 2016
As I wrote in a 2012 post featuring a Peach Sonker, a sonker lies somewhere on the spectrum between a deep-dish pie and a cobbler, with a layer of pastry on the bottom, the sides, and or the middle, and generally sporting a lattice top crust. There are numerous varations on this though-- some recipes that lean towards a pandowdy, bearing dumpling that are then covered with the filling. A sonker can be made with any fruit, and there are many that grow well in Surry and Wilkes counties, but peach and sweet potato are favorites. An identifying quality of a sonker is the milk dip, a boiled, sweetened sauce that is partially poured over the crust and filling near the end of baking, with the remainder served on the side as a topping.
I first heard of a sonker in the pages of Nancie McDermott's essential cookbook Southern Pies. When I happened upon it, I had just been to Surry County for the Mt. Airy Fiddler's Convention, capital of the Round Peak style of old-time fiddling. At the time, the only other thing I knew about Mt. Airy was that it was the model for Andy Griffith's Mayberry. If I had made my trip four months later however, I may have swapped the music festival for the annual Sonker Festival, celebrated the first weekend of October. But alas, I made my own introduction, falling in love with Nancie's Peach Sonker recipe and vowing to incorporate it into my regular dessert repertoire.
A few year later, April McGreger's sweet potato sonker recipe in the pages of her Savor the South cookbook reminded me of my sonker love, and I made her version on various occasions. Then last year, my friend Ronni Lundy wrote me, asking if I might create a sweet potato sonker using sorghum, both for her upcoming book, and a spring party at Big Switch Farm in Egypt, Kentucky. Initially Ronni and I were thinking buttermilk for the milk dip, though we were concerned it would curdle during boiling, so we stuck with whole milk.
Sweet Potato Sonker
Adapted from April McGreger's version, and featured in Ronni Lundy's Victuals
Nothing in the House pie crust, doubled
8 Tablespoons (1 stick) unsalted butter, at room temperature, plus more for greasing the baking dish
1/2 cup all-purpose flour, plus more for dusting
6 medium (about 3 pounds) sweet potatoes, peeled
1-2 teaspoons salt, depending on your preference
1 1/2 cups sugar
1 cup sorghum syrup
3 cups whole milk
2 Tablespoons cornstarch
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
1. 1. Prepare doubled Nothing in the House pie crust as per the directions. Divide the dough into two balls and wrap in plastic wrap. Chill in the fridge for at least 1 hour.
2. Butter and lightly flour a 13x9 inch baking dish (or a dish with an equivalent capacity and at least 2-inches deep). On a floured surface, roll out half of the chilled dough into a large rectangle that will cover the bottom and sides of the baking dish. Transfer the rolled-out dough to the prepared baking dish, and press it down gently to line the dish and form the bottom crust. Place the dish in the fridge to chill.
3. Put the whole peeled sweet potatoes in a large pot, add cold water to cover, and add the salt. Place the pot over medium heat, cover, and bring to a boil. Then reduce the heat to a simmer and cook until the potatoes are fork-tender, about 25 minutes.
4. Use a large slotted spoon to transfer the cooked potatoes to a cutting board to cool. Measure out and reserve 1 1/2 cups of the cooking liquid to use later. Slice the cooled sweet potatoes into rounds, making them as thin as possible without breaking them.
5. Preheat the oven to 375 degrees F. Remove the dough-lined pan from the fridge and layer the sliced sweet potatoes on top of the crust. In a medium bowl, combine 1 cup of the sugar, the sorghum, 1/3 cup of the flour, the butter, and the 1 1/2 cups reserved cooking liquid. Mix well and pour over the sweet potatoes.
6. Roll out the rest of the dough into a rectangle about the size of the baking pan. Cut into strips about 1/2-inch wide and form a lattice crust on top of the sweet potatoes.
7. Bake for about 40 minutes, until the crust is golden brown (the sonker will not be fully baked at this point).
8. While the sonker is baking, prepare the milk dip: Whisk 1/2 cup of the milk with the cornstarch in a medium saucepan, making sure all the cornstarch is dissolved. Add the remaining 2 1/2 cups milk and the remaining 1/2 cup sugar. Set the pan over medium-high heat and let it come to a boil. Let boil for 1 minute to thicken. Then remove from the heat and stir in the vanilla.
9. When the sonker has cooked for 40 minutes. Pour 2 cups of the prepared milk dip over the entire surface. Return the sonker to the oven and bake for 15 minutes more or until it is caramelized around the edges and brown on top. Remove the dish from the oven and let it cool for at least 20 minutes before serving; the milk will continue to be absorbed and thicken.
10. Serve the sonker just warm, with the remaining milk dip on the side for drizzling.
For more of the recipes of this gathering, and for a crucial, deep narrative on the foods of the region, told by one of its best storytellers and champions, I highly recommend picking up a copy of Victuals. Beyond it's inevitable place in the cannon, it's also an accessible resource for daily cooking-- many of the recipes come straight from Ronni's family, and their East Kentucky homeplace and are made from ingredients that are staples in most pantries.