Creamy Cheddar Grits and Red Cabbage Slaw

For this past weekend's BBQ, I wanted to go a bit Italian in theme, perhaps with some creamy polenta and sauteed radicchio to accompany our chicken and ribs. But Dara reminded me I don't actually like cooked radicchio; I just like the idea of it.* I grumbled and acquiesced, and then developed a Southern take on my creamy corn and crunchy cabbage cravings instead: Cheddar Grits and Red Cabbage Slaw.

It's a funny thing how Italian food and Southern food have more similarities than you might think. Alton Brown once did a very Alton Brown-esque episode of his show, "Good Eats," on the difference between polenta and grits. You know -- brightly lit, not very subtle actors were involved, one as a dumb Southerner who loves cheesy grits, and one as a dumb Italian who loves cheesy polenta. The two used thick accents and lots of hand gestures to argue over which was better, and then agreed the two are very similar and both are good.

If you're more familiar with one or the other, this is basically the difference:

- The color of the cornmeal (yellow for polenta vs. white for grits)

- The liquid used (broth vs. water and/or milk)

- And the method (constant whisking until the mass pulls away from the sides of the pot vs. occasional whisking just until the mixture is creamy and smooth)

To make our grits seem more "Northwest" rather than Southern, I used a good-quality local Cheddar and some chives from our garden.

The slaw turned out really well, too, with crisp apples, thinly sliced red onion, toasted walnuts, golden raisins, and a dressing of raspberry vinegar, brown sugar and salt. Really, how can you go wrong? The sweetness and crunch is a nice contrast to smoky meat and creamy grits.

*The same goes for Campari -- another bitter, red, Italian substance. Several years ago I got fixed up on a sort of professional friend date with Amanda Hesser, the New York Times food writer. She took me to this swanky hotel lobby with mysterious curtains everywhere, and she ordered a Campari and soda. I thought she was so cool that ever since then, I try every three or four years to order that drink. I still can never choke it down, and have come to terms with the fact that I will never be as sophisticated as Amanda Hesser was at age 24.

CREAMY CHEDDAR GRITS

Serves 8-10; this recipe may be halved.

1 quart milk (use whatever fat level you're comfortable with)

3 teaspoons kosher salt

2 cups medium ground white cornmeal (use regular as opposed to stone-ground)

1/2 cup (1 stick) unsalted butter

8 ounces sharp Cheddar cheese, shredded

15-20 fresh chives, minced

Place the milk and salt in a large pot and bring to a simmer. Slowly whisk in cornmeal, then turn heat to low and cover. Cook 20 to 25 minutes, whisking occasionally, until the mixture is creamy and smooth. Stir in butter and let it melt; then stir in cheese and let it melt. Stir in chives and serve immediately. Or, if timing requires that you simply must make this dish in advance, keep it refrigerated and plan to spend some time reheating it on the stove and whisking in some more milk to get it soft and smooth again.

RED CABBAGE SLAW WITH APPLES & GOLDEN RAISINS

Serves 8-10; this recipe may be halved.

2 crisp apples (I like Pink Lady and Honeycrisp), cored and cut into a large dice

Juice of 1/2 lemon

1 small to medium head red cabbage, thinly sliced

1/4 large red onion, thinly sliced

1/2 cup golden raisins

1/2 cup toasted walnut pieces (optional)

1 cup raspberry vinegar

1 cup light brown sugar

1 teaspoon salt

1/2 teaspoon coarsely ground black pepper

Dress apples with lemon juice, and then combine them with cabbage, onion, golden raisins and optional walnuts in a large lidded plastic storage container. Whisk together vinegar, brown sugar, salt and pepper and pour it over the cabbage mixture. Close the storage container and give it a gentle shake to dress the slaw. Refrigerate for at least an hour, shaking a couple of times, and serve cold.

Memorial Day Weekend Is for BBQing. Period!

This, my friends, is a picture of Chloe the dog and me taking a ferry to Bainbridge Island on Saturday for a nice, beachy day trip. Notice the Gore-Tex jacket, the scarf and the ski hat? True, it was a bit cooler and wetter in the Seattle area this weekend than in most parts of the country.

As Dara and I thought about our friends in Chicago enjoying 90 degree heat and the four Bs (burgers, brats, beer and bags*), we knew we needed to keep calm and carry on. We needed to have a barbecue, too, darn it. Because that's what you do on Memorial Day weekend.

So on Sunday, a lovely group of 11 gathered at our house. There was 'Lil Sista and her fiancee, Dan; Chicago transplant Tamara, along with her husband Kevin and their adorable, toddling, plump-cheeked, cat-grabbing daughter Avery; Caroline and David, two more friends from Chicago who coincidentally moved here the same weekend we did; and the affable Ambika and Paul, friends of Caroline and David whom we just met.

We ate inside, of course...at our long, dark dining room table by candlelight. Not exactly what I had in mind for May 30, but it was cozy and fun, with lots of laughing and a colorful menu that featured many of the goods this wet climate is so good at producing -- if I may say so, a formidable rival to the four Bs.

*"Bags" is a colloquial term for a game called Cornhole or Corn Toss, which has become increasingly popular in Chicago backyards and alleys. (Personally, I say "bags" so I don't have to say "Cornhole.") The object of the game is to toss as many bags as possible into a hole. Said to have originated in Germany in the 14th century and revived in Kentucky and southern Ohio, it may be played with one hand while holding a beer in the other. For more information, visit the American Cornhole Association at www.playcornhole.org.

MEMORIAL DAY WEEKEND BBQ MENU

Bar snacks:

-Sesame popcorn

-Salted peanuts

Buffet:

- Sweet & spicy braised pork ribs

- Herbed grilled chicken

- Cheddar and chive grits

- Red cabbage slaw with apples, red onion, golden raisins and a raspberry vinegar dressing

- Steamed asparagus and garlic shoots, served chilled and dressed lightly with olive oil and lime juice

Dessert:

- Lemon chiffon cake with whipped cream frosting & rhubarb compote

I'll elaborate more on each dish throughout the week. To start, life is short so let's talk about the cake.

I always come back to chiffon cake because it's perfect after a meal. It's light like an angel food cake, yet richer and not as sweet. It's airy like a sponge cake, but moister. This one is brightly flavored with lemon juice and lemon zest. (Meyer lemon juice and zest would taste even better.) I frosted it simply with whipped cream sweetened and colored with a reduction of rhubarb syrup from the accompanying compote.

LEMON CHIFFON CAKE WITH WHIPPED CREAM FROSTING & RHUBARB COMPOTE

This is the basic lemon chiffon cake recipe from Fine Cooking magazine's April/May 2000 issue, but the rhubarb extras are a new addition. Like an angel food cake, a chiffon cake requires an ungreased tube pan -- that's the donut-shaped round pan with high sides. While baking, the batter climbs and sides and sticks to them. Removing the cake from the oven, you want to invert the pan onto a wine bottle and let it cool that way, so it doesn't sink.

Serves 12-14

9 ounces (2 1/4 cups) cake flour

1 1/2 cups sugar

1 1/2 teaspoons baking powder

1/2 teaspoon salt

1/2 cup vegetable oil (like canola or corn)

7 large eggs, separated

1/2 cup water

1/3 cup fresh lemon juice

1 1/2 teaspoons grated lemon zest

1/2 teaspoon vanilla extract

1 recipe Rhubarb Compote (see below)

1 recipe Rhubarb Whipped Cream Frosting (see below)

Preheat oven to 325 F. Have ready a 10-inch tube pan with sides at least 3 3/4 inches high.

In a large bowl, sift together the cake flour, 1 cup sugar, baking powder and salt. Make a well in the center of the flour mixture and add oil, egg yolks, water, lemon juice, lemon zest and vanilla extract. Beat the mixture on medium speed for 3 minutes, until smooth and thick. Set aside.

In a large, clean bowl with clean beaters or a whisk attachment, whisk egg whites and cream of tartar on medium speed until whites are foamy. Increase the speed to high and beat the whites until the movement of the beaters forms lines in the mixture. Slowly pour in the remaining 1/2 cup sugar, about 2 tablespoons at a time, and beat the mixture until peaks are still but not dry.

With a large rubber spatula, stir about one-third of the egg whites into the yolk mixture. Gently fold in the remaining egg whites until no white steaks remain. Pour the batter into the ungreased tube pan, spreading it evenly. Bake until you can gently press your fingers on top of the cake and it feels firm, about 1 hour and 10 minutes. Any cracks that form on top should appear dry.

Invert the pan onto a bottle with a narrow neck (such as a wine bottle) and cool thoroughly, about an hour and a half. Use a thin metal spatula or knife to loosen the cake from the sides of the pan and the center of the tube. Remove the cake from the pan and slide it onto a serving plate. Frost cake with whipped cream frosting and refrigerate it until ready to serve; to be sure that flavors of garlic and ribs don't mix with the frosting, cover the cake and its plate with a large bowl before you place it in the fridge.

When slicing the cake, serve each slice with a spoonful or two of rhubarb compote.

For Rhubarb Compote:

6 stalks rhubarb, trimmed and cut into a large dice

2 cups sugar

2 cups water

Place all ingredients in a saucepan and bring to a simmer; turn heat to low and simmer gently, uncovered, just until the rhubarb is tender but not falling apart. Use a slotted spoon to remove the rhubarb from the liquid; refrigerate the compote until ready to use. Boil the liquid until reduced until a thick, deep red syrup -- you'll need about 6 tablespoons. Strain this and use it to flavor and color the whipped cream frosting.

For Rhubarb Whipped Cream Frosting:

2 cups whipping cream

About 6 tablespoons reserved thick rhubarb syrup, cooled

1 teaspoon vanilla extract

A few drops red food coloring if desired

Place whipping cream, rhubarb syrup and vanilla extract in a bowl and beat with a whisk attachment until soft peaks form. Add a few drips red food coloring if it's not quite saying "rhubarb" to you yet.