When last I checked in, we were basking in the glow of another at-home meal courtesy of Vespertine. Following the restaurant’s menu highlighting tastes of Sicily, chef Jordan Kahn turned his attention back to his roots in the south. If you’ll recall, way back in April (I’d like to say “…for my birthday,” but clearly that wasn’t Chef Kahn’s intention) Vespertine offered a take-out menu focused on the food of Lowcountry southern cooking. I was giddied at the time by familiar tastes of Savannah, Georgia (where my mom is semi-retired). It started us down a path of ordering pretty much every menu Vespertine has offered diners during the latter half of 2020.
In this most unusual year — a stream of bizarreness and stress and anxiety that feels at once fleeting and unending — opportunities to indulge have been few and far between. I know I haven’t written much about me these past eight months, but to be honest there is not much to say. I feel like an oddity in Los Angeles. We work from home. I have to mask-up and drive to work two or three days a week, where I try to spend as little time possible in close proximity to co-workers. We don’t go out. We don’t see people. We are, for better or for worse, taking things as seriously as possible. We order our groceries and/or subscribe to produce and meat purveyors. Last weekend we walked down to Belle’s Bagels and bought a dozen bagels in what felt like my first in-person transaction with another human since March. We go on walks with the pup, but we don’t really interface with anyone outside our home base. Our two indulgences have been alcohol (wine and beer, mostly, although there have been online whisk(e)y tastings once or twice) and Vespertine.
When we receive emails from Tock alerting us to a new Vespertine menu we immediately perk up. This most recent menu announcement brought with it a dizzying high. Chef Kahn was returning to the south for a new “Southern Supper,” and this time he designed the meal in collaboration with Chef Sean Brock.
My introduction to Chef Brock came, as it often used to, from Anthony Bourdain. Several years ago there was an episode of “Parts Unknown” that focused on Charleston. My memory is a bit hazy as to whether or not Chef Brock was with Bourdain for the entire episode, but there was definitely a scene where Bourdain dined at Brock’s restaurant Husk. I took two things away from the scene where the pair dine — with Billy Murray — at Husk. One was Brock’s unflinching desire to uphold his local/familial culinary traditions. The other was the sight of country ham and Pappy Van Winkle being enjoyed together.
I fired up my laptop and found Husk’s website. One of the unique aspects of the site that I’m shocked more restaurants don’t offer is a page called “Our Suppliers.” At the time (remember this was 2015), the ham was being supplied by Benton’s Country Ham. And, if you were a foodie, you could literally click on the link provided by Husk and within minutes you could buy country ham and bacon from the same place that supplied the restaurant. It wasn’t the best bacon I’ve ever had (RIP Scott Hams of Kentucky) but it was the second best. And I take my ham and bacon very seriously. THIS IS ALL BESIDES THE POINT. My admiration of Chef Brock was cemented in that instant. When he opened a Husk location in Savannah, GA I sent my mom and my uncle and anyone visiting to try it. Last time I was in Savannah our big meal out was at The Grey (my review can be read here), but next time we’ll make sure to visit Husk. Post-Covid, or in the time of apricots, whichever comes first.
I’ve already written way too much without any food porn so let me cut to the chase. “Southern Supper” was far and away my favorite menu from Vespertine yet. We could not find a single flaw to any of the dishes we consumed, and this time we opted for ALL of the supplemental dishes in addition to the full menu. Here’s my recap, where I will offer even more effusive praise:
This was how everything looked when we got home and spread it out on the kitchen island. For two people, it was a lot of food.
I don’t often trust myself to make cocktails at home. My copy of the Death & Co. cocktail book has been relegated to a corner of a closet somewhere collecting dust. Perhaps if the instructions were as easily as these, I might use it more often.
From The Cellar: “Preserving is not just the practical act of saving that year’s crops; in many cases, it’s also about protecting a practice that has been a part of Southern culture and identity for centuries. To me, the continued tradition of conserving food for later use is an important one to keep alive at a time when almost everything we want is available year-round at the local supermarket.” – HSBPimento Cheese. Bread & Butter Pickles. Pickled Okra. “Dilly Beans”. Smoked Early Girl Tomato Jam. Benne Seed Wafers. “Benne was an essential medicinal and kitchen garden plant during our colonial and antebellum eras. It was grown in all great Carolina kitchen gardens, in particular in the forbidden subsistence gardens of African slaves who brought benne to Carolina and introduced it to the region’s nascent rice culture and cuisine…In the south, everyone has their own particular recipe for pimento cheese. This version uses Hook’s aged cheddar, Duke’s mayonnaise, Jimmy Nardello peppers from the farmer’s market, and smoked paprika aged in bourbon barrels.” I found the pimento to be outstanding, offering a perfect texture with just enough kick to make you reach for a sip of that nearby Old Fashioned…Shaved Edward’s Country Ham & Black Pepper Butter. “Partake in a true, Southern food experience. This dry-cured ham is similar to prosciutto di Parma, only gently smoked over hickory. More than 100 years of tradition are behind this long-aged ham. Served with our homemade cultured black pepper butter.” I absolutely loved the ham, and have already looked into buying some from the source. Much like the Benton’s Country Ham before it, Edward’s (I hope this is the right place!) might also be a regular addition to our kitchen.I need better glassware for my bourbon. I’ve got these for tasting, and maybe a Brewery-centric snifter or two, but nothing that screams “Old Fashioned”. Any suggestions would be welcome. You know how to leave a comment blow.She-Crab Soup. “There seems to be a consensus that it came to the Lowcountry from Scottish immigrants, who brought with them a recipe for Partan Bree, or Crab Soup. The dish as we recognize it now was probably served for the first time in the early 1900s. One bit of lore has it that Charleston’s then-mayor, Robert Goodwyn Rhett, instructed his butler, William Deas, to spruce up traditional crab soup to impress President Taft during his visit to the city. Deas added the bright orange roe of Charleston’s blue crabs, and a classic was born.” I adored the soup. I was nervous about re-heating it on the stove but given the instructions from the Chef it would be quite hard to ruin any of these dishes while re-heating. Of course I used the included benne seed rolls to mop up the remainder.
Zucchini with Benne Seeds, Buttermilk, & Green Peanut Oil. “This simple salad of raw zucchini is dressed with homemade buttermilk that is fermented for 48 hours. The dish is finished with toasted benne seeds, smoked tomatoes, and freshly pressed green peanut oil from Pitts, Georgia.” I thought the salad was outstanding, from the snappiness of the zucchini to the burst of flavor in each tomato. It seems simple but texturally and flavor-wise it was really impressive.Shrimp And Grits. “The renaissance of regional Southern fare, some two decades ago, landed shrimp and grits on every menu from Charleston to Savannah– as well as on menus in cities where no shrimp ever swam or spawned. And for good reason. Shrimp and grits is an ethereal dish, guileless and profoundly comforting. You need nothing more than sweet dayboat shrimp (with their shells to make shrimp stock), real country ham, minced onion or shallots, a knob of butter, and a pot of hot grits to make a memorable dish.” When I was a kid I was a very picky eater. I remember eating dinner at a hotel restaurant on the Boston Harbor across the street (I think? I was really young)from the New England Aquarium. My mom ordered a dish with shrimp in it. I think it was shrimp scampi. And she told me that if I tried it, we could go back to the Aquarium and I could buy any stuffed animal I wanted from the gift shop. I don’t remember the stuffed animal, but I remember the shrimp being “ok”. It wasn’t until she moved to Savannah that I tried shrimp and grits for the first time, either at Vic’s on the River or Pearl’s. This dish brought me back to the joy I felt upon discovering the simple brilliance of the dish. All that was missing were a basket of hush puppies and a vat of butter to dip them in. The benne seed rolls helped. Hoppin’ John Carolina Gold Rice. “Carolina rice kitchen cuisine arose when three distinct rice cultures came together to build rice canals on the Sea Islands of Carolina and Georgia: Venetian rice farmers who designed the canals, Africans who brought their rice management methods to the endeavor, and Native Americans who worked the fields…Carolina gold, a sweet, non-aromatic rice of superior flavor, texture, and cooking quality, created a culture of wealth and influence, and brought fortunes to those who grew it. But in time, it nearly passed away. This simple dish of rice and peas highlights heirloom Carolina gold rice and Sea Island red peas, grown and milled to order by our friends at Anson Mills, South Carolina.” I think we might have eaten this dish slightly out-of-order, but I have to say I adored the rice and continued eating it for lunch for two days after this meal ended. It came with a tiny jar of gravy and hot sauce to mix in with the rice, which were so perfectly portioned that somehow each bite showcased not only the grains and peas, but those little added notes of the gravy and hot sauce.Sean Brock’s Famouse Black Skillet Cornbread. “The chef’s simple recipe with each element—cast iron, Jimmy Red cornmeal, and buttermilk—in perfect harmony. Comes with the seasoned cast iron skillet it is cooked in.” According to Chef Brock, “Cornbread is a religion in the South. Quintessentially Southern, black skillet cornbread has a coarse, open crumb and a deep, crackling finish. Its sweetness comes from the natural sweetness of the cornmeal itself, not from sugar added to its batter…The different climates in the microregions throughout the South are, generally speaking, more conducive to corn cultivation than that of wheat, making it and rice the Southern grains of choice, historically. A summer’s crop of corn could be dried, milled, and stored all year, providing a family with a hearty bread every day. That has made cornbread one of the few constants in the evolution of Southern cuisine.” This one was reheated in the oven, which made the bacon bits on top just a touch on the hard side. I loved every bite, and the description offered above of open crumb and crackling finish describes it perfectly.Slow-Smoked Heritage Pork Glazed with Sorghum and Peach Vinegar. In that episode of Parts Unknown with Anthony Bourdain, Brock speaks of Ossabaw feral pigs, and how they’re basically the Jamón Ibérico of America (decedents of the Spanish Iberian black-footed pig). Here Chef Kahn used a heritage breed (not Ossabaw) of organic pork that was rubbed with yellow mustard, sugar, and a few spices, lightly smoked in a stone fire coffin with pecan wood, then gently braised with peach vinegar and sorghum. We re-heated this as well, and the instructions proved perfect as it remained moist inside and practically fell apart under fork and knife. I put what was left over the Carolina Gold rice for lunch the next day, with 1/4 of the cornbread on the side. Collards. “Collard Greens and Bacon: it’s an iconic combination, straight off an old farmhouse stove. Southern to the core, comforting to the quick, and unpretentious to the bone. But why are they always so bad? Don’t blame the collards–show them some flavorful broth and gentle heat, and they’ll reward you with a sweetness unmatched by other braising greens, and a pleasant, creamy marrow in their steams. Pot Likker is liquid gold. The braising liquid left in the pot from cooking greens is often considered the most enjoyable part of the experience. Either drank straight up from a bowl (or a shot glass) or with a dash of pepper mash, pot likker is a quintessential element in a Southern Supper.” I don’t often find collars to be “bad,” per se…but I can certainly attest that I’ve had more “fine” or “good” collards than I have had “great” collards. These were, hands down, the best I have ever tasted. Sweet Potatoes With Pecans And Vidalia Onions. “Growing up, any trip to Atlanta meant a stop in Vidalia to buy onions. You could roll down the windows of the car and smell onions in the air when driving through the city. Vidalia, Georgia is widely-known across the country for their sweet onions and we were very excited that we were able to acquire them to use for this menu. We’ve not added any additional sugar, they really are that sweet.” There were two or three dishes included in this menu that seem easy enough that I could make them at future pot lucks and really wow my friends. This dish was one of them. It seems very simple on the surface but the depth of flavor was remarkable. I liked this dish more than Christine did, and I was not in the least bit unhappy to have most of it to myself. Wild Blackberry and Biscuit Cobbler. “Blackberries grow like weeds in the forests around Savannah. They are a bit more tart than most of the cultivated varieties, but are packed with flavor and color. Most old-school Southern cobblers are made with a slightly less sweet biscuit topping, made with buttermilk and white lily flour, then dusted with coarse sugar.” This is another one I chose to re-heat, and I might have overdone it a bit as the edges were bubbling and the top a little firmer than was probably intended. Still, there is no denying the striking color and bright flavor of good blackberries, and this first dessert course really set the stage for some fantastic bites. Chess Pie. “The two potential origins of its name are as dissimilar as English Custard is from Spoonbread, though each curiously defers to Southern vernacular and a dropped letter. The first one goes like this: “What kind of pie is that? It’s ‘Jes Pie.” Just pie. Chess Pie. The second goes: “What kind of pie is that? It’s Chess Pie.” Here, the T on the end of chest (as in pie chest) falls away, becoming chess.” Origins aside, HOW HAVE I NEVER HEARD OF THIS BEFORE? The simple combination of pie crust, flour, butter, sugar, eggs (sometimes with cornmeal in the filling) is like…DUH! I could not wrap my mind around how delicious this was, especially with the whipped, creamy topping adding a lovely hit of salt atop that lusciously creamy filling. Oh my god, it was perfect. It was so, so perfect.Southern Banana Pudding. “A proper Southern banana pudding layered with fresh bananas, wild Southern magnolia blossom custard, homemade ‘nilla wafers and salted whipped cream.” We ordered the supplemental banana pudding dessert because Christine is apparently a banana pudding aficionado. We have a cabinet filled with these weird mason jars…like a dozen of them…that we use as water glasses every day. They were apparently obtained by her from Toast on Melrose where she apparently ordered banana pudding from a lot. I don’t know if she stole the mason jars or ordered the pudding to go…but she’s got an entire pantry shelf full of them. So…she’s the expert. I am not a huge pudding fan, but I found this to be delightful. The whipped cream was even saltier than the Chess Pie, which played expertly off the sweetness of the banana and custard. The ‘nilla wafers were lost in the shuffle just a bit, but when you got a bit of everything in your spoon it was magical. We had no idea how large this dessert was compared to the other two, so we couldn’t eat it all in one sitting…but I have to say, it was even better the next day. A perfect ending to a flawless meal.
So there you have it. That’s the end of this edition of Vespertine blog. Apparently that’s all I write about now. This reminds me of that time I started my own Smashing Pumpkins fan site on Geocities back in the mid-90s.
I promise I’ll get back to daily updates soon. I’m hammering out the last details of moving the domain and learning the ins-and-outs of my new hosting company. There’s a lot to write about, and I promise to share what’s been going on in my world. Soon. At the very least, there will be a Top Albums of 2020 list still to come before the end of the year. I’m not sure I’ll make it to 100 albums because I’m listening to more vinyl than Spotify while working from home.
Speaking of which, we listened to This Will Destroy You‘s Vespertine double LP during our meal:
