Damon Lee Fowler

Over the more than three decades that I've been teaching and writing about cooking, the biggest challenge has been coming up with fresh ways to talk about coping with our big cook's holiday, Thanksgiving. In all that time, the focus, both in my work and most everyone else's, has been on tackling a feast for a crowd without killing ourselves.

It never occurred to me—or apparently anyone else—that, as challenging as cooking for that crowd might be, it's nothing to the challenge of The Dwindling Thanksgiving Table. That, I had to learn the hard way.

When we moved to Virginia, I happily imagined our dining room table at Thanksgiving, Read More 

Tomorrow is my birthday, and ushers in the last year of my sixties.

It's a milestone I suspect none of us is ever ready to face, and is coming at an especially difficult time for my family and for our country. Consequently, that need for comforting soup in my household hasn't lessened; if anything, it's only gotten more pronounced.

Whenever that need becomes acute, the soup that provides it best isn't, oddly enough, one I grew up on, but a classic Italian minestrone. True, it's a kissing cousin of my grandmother's vegetable soup, but its comfort isn't rooted in childhood memories as are most other "comfort foods." When I was traveling to teach a lot, Read More 

My mother's cornbread, while I was growing up, was like so many other Southerners' bread back then, a round cake baked in a preheated iron skillet, just as her mother's and grandmother's and probably her great- and great-great-grandmother's had been before her. Cut into wedges and passed around while it was almost blistering hot, we eagerly risked a burn to split our steaming wedge and stuff it with as much butter as we could get away with.

It was the quintessential accompaniment for Mama's pots of greens, beans, field peas, and vegetable soup.

And yet, oddly enough, when I'm missing her and craving her cornbread, it's not a round skillet cake that I make, Read More 

We're having our first hint of autumn here in Virginia, but in the Carolina and Georgia Lowcountry where I spent four decades of my life, summer lingers well into October. And even though autumn is whispering in our ears and we're now more than four hundred miles away from the Lowcountry, this is still when we begin to crave one of the lovely staples of the region's late-summer tables: butterbeans over rice.

Actually, beans or field peas with rice are staples down there throughout the year, but mid-to-late summer is when butterbeans (both the pale green and brown speckled varieties) are seasonal.

You may, by the way, call these broad, flat beans "limas" out of a Southerner's hearing, but don't do it in front of us. Read More 

If we're paying attention, every venture into the kitchen is an opportunity for us to learn and improve.

A few weeks ago, a friend asked if I had a chilled cucumber soup recipe that I could share. It was funny that she would ask just then, because I'd been craving that very thing for several days. And as it happened, there was a recipe for it in my book Essentials of Southern Cooking. I sent it along to her, then toddled off to the store to buy the ingredients for a batch of my own.

But while I was making it, I found myself dissatisfied with that recipe as it was published.  Read More 

There's not a day, nor a time within them, that I don't miss my maternal grandparents, but mid-summer is when I always miss them most. Not because that's the time of year that, twenty-one years apart, they left us, but because the summer school holidays were when my brothers and I each got to visit them all on our own for two whole weeks.

The lion's share of those visits was spent in the kitchen with MaMa Read More 

The best cooking is always the simplest. When the ingredients are first rate, a wise cook knows to do no more than is absolutely necessary to bring out their flavor. This is especially true in summer, when produce is at its peak and the heat, even when the air-conditioner is going full blast, makes spending time in the kitchen deeply unappealing.

And when we go back to Savannah and are lucky enough to come home with a pound cake from Mollie Stone Read More 

Early in April, a hacker got into my author's page on the popular social media platform Facebook, changed the profile and wallpaper pictures, and then changed the name to "We Added Suspended Issue See Why." After immediately resetting my password, I was able to block the person who hacked in (yup, they left fingerprints) and restored the pictures. Unhappily, I was stuck with that name for two months. Despite repeated attempts to report the hack and get help, Facebook not only never responded, its "help" tutorials were absolutely no help at all. Worst of all, it wouldn't allow me to change the name of the page back because the rule is that it can only be changed every sixty days—even if you weren't the one who changed it.

I'll still be using Facebook, but with the knowledge that a service that's offered as "free" rarely is: Usually it comes with a price of some kind. The price in that case is that it's all too easy for hackers to violate your space in that medium and it won't offer you any help when they do. Also, if you are "reported" for violating a community standard, even and especially when you haven't done any such thing, God help you.

But I digress (what else is new?):  Read More 

We're finally having autumnal weather in our corner of Virginia: chilly nights and mild days, enough rain to bring out the color of the leaves and holly berries in our garden, and lots of sunshine giving that golden light that only happens as the year winds its way to a close.

It's perfect weather for the hearty, warming soups that are made with dried beans and peas, especially split green peas. Split pea with ham is a long-time favorite cold weather comfort in our household, and yet I'd actually not made it since we moved.

It was past time to seek out a couple of meaty ham hocks, dig out my favorite bean soup pot, and stir up a batch. Read More 

When most of us use the words "comfort food" we usually mean something that warms us both inside and out, wrapping us up physically and emotionally. But during the dead heat of summer, when the humidity turns the air into hot mayonnaise, the sun turns the pavement into a short-order griddle, and we're all, as old-guard southern ladies persist in calling it, "glistening," comfort turns ice cold and is served in tall, frosted glasses and chilled bowls.

The irony is not lost on me that two of my own ultimate comfort foods are soups that are at their best in that dead heat, when their key ingredients are at their peak: my grandmother's vegetable beef soup Read More 

The weather here in Virginia has been unusually mild, cool enough to invigorate, but not too warm to make working in the garden uncomfortable. Since there are only a few weeks left in the dormant season, I've been back out in it, trying to get as much as possible under control before spring.

I'm doing the work mostly alone, with limited tools, which would be daunting for someone half my age. And as the masses of yard waste, pruned limbs, felled trees, cut bamboo, and tangles of cut vines continue to pile up, what remains to be done is a little overwhelming. It's probably to be expected that my cooking has been basic and heavy on winter comfort food that I've shared too often to revisit on this page.

But every now and again inspiration strikes. It may be an unexpected discovery Read More 

For twenty years, fully half the time that Savannah, Georgia, was my home, aside from writing cookbooks and traveling to promote them, I also wrote a cooking column for the daily paper. The challenge at the beginning was adjusting to tight deadlines and keeping the copy short and to the point. But that was nothing to the challenge that came a few years in: coming up with fresh ideas and recipes that had not already been done to death. That was especially challenging during the winter holiday season and beginning of a new year.

And then, as if that wasn't enough, I took on running the avocational cooking school of a local kitchenware store. The busiest time there was also the winter holiday season Read More 

In our household, we observe the old twelve days of Christmas: Not with a collection of strange symbolic gifts (no geese a-laying here), but our halls are still decked and ringing with Christmas carols, and our feasting continues through Epiphany (January 6).

An unsung and underappreciated element of that feasting is Brussels sprouts. These seasonal greens are common on English tables at Christmas, although what's often said of them by English writers in their defense suggests that their appearance is all too often more from a sense of obligation than affection.

My own affection for them is life-long and deep.  Read More 

Let's begin with a full disclosure that what you are about to read outlines a not-terribly-stellar moment in my life in the kitchen.

Last week, I decided to make a batch of homemade fudge for Christmas, basing it on one of my own recipes for a dark chocolate fudge frosting. Most chocolate fudge gets its flavor from cocoa powder, but that rich, dark frosting contained both cocoa and bittersweet chocolate. It seemed like just the thing for a little Christmas indulgence.

Despite the facts that it was a humid day (not the best conditions for making candy) and I had not made fudge in years, it began well. The sugar, cocoa, and milk mixture came to its rolling boil Read More 

One of the most challenging and irksome things about writing recipes is that they, like their authors, are imperfect. But unlike their authors, once they hit print, they're static. We humans aren't: We're constantly learning and evolving—and that includes what we do in the kitchen.

The truth is, not one of us is ever completely educated. The only ways we stop learning are by either willfully refusing new information or dying. If we're breathing and paying attention, we're always coming into contact with something we've never seen, thought about, or imagined.

A good cook never stops learning—that's why they are good.  Read More 

It's none of my business what kind of gravy you serve today. Whether you add wine, include the giblets and add chopped boiled eggs, or thicken it with a roux or butter is up to you. But here's how to make that gravy silky-smooth and delicious. Read More 

Hands down the best turkey roasting advice of 2022 is "Just put the ******* turkey in the oven!"

The more you fuss and stress over it, the more you're opening yourself to angst and disappointment. Relax: It roasts just like a REALLY BIG chicken; it just takes longer. Allow plenty of time, use a reliable meat thermometer to gage doneness, and remember the only thing that matters is how it tastes. It doesn't have to look a magazine cover shot.

So, before we turn in for the night, here are a few thoughts on that bird and its quintessential accompaniment—the dressing. Read More 

I'd like to tell you that my grandmother's pumpkin pie recipe was an old family one that has been passed down for generations, but I can't. She got it right off a can of pumpkin puree, varying it only in the spice and liquid she used, since I was allergic to cloves and my father to nutmeg, and she but rarely had cream in the house but always had evaporated milk.

You can make the filling completely from scratch with a pumpkin you've roasted and pureed yourself if you have nothing better to do; but Read More 

As the winter holidays approach, especially now that we live in a different place, my mind keeps slipping back to the holidays of my childhood. Most of us do that at this time of year, but these days I'm much more conscious of it. Despite the way we "preacher's kids" love to grumble about growing up under watchful and often judgmental eyes, not just of the church, but of the entire community, it did have its perks, particularly during Christmas.

Not only did my mother and both grandmothers turn out their usual bounty of seasonal treats, we were always showered with food offerings by the church congregation, even from people who didn't really like us. They ranged from homemade baked goods to store-bought chocolates, tea samplers, and elaborate cheese boards. One of the things I remember looking forward to the most was a sturdy brown conserve crock filled with potted cheese.

Potted cheese is a simple, old-fashioned conserve Read More 

As we begin our second year living in Virginia, we're also enjoying our second full Autumn. This has always been my favorite time of the year. Maybe it's the invigorating coolness in the air, the golden light and brightly colored leaves, or the fact that it's harvest time, but this inward-turning season always seems more hopeful. It's also when I'm happiest in my kitchen.

For four decades, we lived in a place where the only hint of the season before November was that golden light. The warmth and autumnal aromas that filled my kitchen often did not go with what was happening outdoors: The frost on the windows was on the outside, where the still-warm, humid air collided with glass chilled by the air conditioner.

So it's a blessing to once again be living in a place where we have real autumn weather and my kitchen's warmth is actually welcome. It's been fragrant with Read More 

14 September 2022: Comfort Gratin

It's rare that anything really personal finds its way into these essays. Most of them are about cooking technique, ingredients, method, or the provenance of a particular recipe. First person singular pronouns are kept to a minimum because it's not about me or even what I know. After all, what we know is nothing to take credit for, since most of it came from someone else.

There may be a passing thought on a lesson learned about exercising patience or focus in the kitchen, or perhaps a reminder that the most important thing in cooking is pleasing ourselves and our loved ones. But the most personal any of them ever get is to touch on how a dish makes me feel and/or its connection with someone dear to me.

This one, however, is very personal. Read More 

As we close in on our first year of living full time in Petersburg, we love it here, and are growing more attached to it as the months pass. But it would be a bald-faced lie to say that we aren't sometimes more than a little homesick for Savannah.

One of the things I miss most (aside from people) is Russo's fish market and the fresh local brown creek shrimp and blue crab that we so took for granted. There are a few fish markets here, but  Read More 

Perhaps it's the monotonously regular summer menu of salads and cold or room temperature food, but even in the warmest of days, there are times when a hot soup is not only welcome, but the only thing that really satisfies us. There's rarely a summer day, however, when venturing into a hot kitchen to make soup, even a cold one, is welcome.

Luckily, most soups don't take a lot of the cook's time, nor necessarily have to simmer for hours to be good.  Read More 

The summer heat and humidity in our corner of Southern Virginia may not be quite as intense as it was in coastal Georgia, but it's still summer in the South. My cooking continues to be heavy on summer comfort food: lots of fresh produce, pan-roasted meat and poultry, salads, and cold soups.

Luckily, Petersburg has a lovely Farmers' Market in an open lot of Old Towne's River Street, Read More 

Of all the lovely ways there are to prepare summer squash, I never tire of pairing it with pasta, partly because I love what they do for one another and partly because the possibilities are practically endless.

Whether it's zucchini or our own delicate yellow crooknecks, their silky texture and subtly sweet flavor make a fine sauce for practically any pasta shape.

So when I came by some beautiful and fresh small yellow squash at the farmers' market, at least one of them was sure to end up in a bowl of pasta.  Read More 

Because I was late putting in our little herb garden, the basil is only just now full enough for the first batch of pesto. But clipping the tips back to make it fuller has given nice little handfuls for stirring into things like pasta with zucchini or filling in for lettuce in a BLT.

The best, however, is always  Read More 

Summer in the South (or, for that matter, anywhere) is full of irony for cooks. The bounty of produce inspires us at the very moment that the heat and humidity kill off any interest in being in front of a hot stove. The compensation is of course that summer is when the ingredients need the least amount of help from the cook. Indeed, they often don't need any help at all.

There's not much one can do to improve on a good peach or tomato that has been allowed to ripen to peak flavor on its tree or vine. If you doubt that, then you've never plucked one of either, given it a wipe or rinse, and bitten into it on the spot.

You might call it lazy, but there's wisdom (not to mention less chance of heatstroke) in knowing when to leave things alone. Read More 

The beginning of our first full summer in Virginia found me out in the yard, still trying to beat into submission the overgrowth that had taken over the garden. It hasn't been without rewards:   beneath the wisteria, brambles, wild grapes, and poison ivy (that I swear sprout new growth the instant one's back is turned) lie the remains of a garden that was once a showplace.

Still, it's been hard not to get overwhelmed, so as the heat increases and my stamina lags, my focus has turned to small projects close to the house. One such project has been the filling of three barren planting beds on the back terrace.

The first order of business for this cook of course was an herb garden.  Read More 

It's been a typical frosty January here in Petersburg, with just enough snow to be pretty and fun without getting tedious, and just enough frost in the air to make a fire on the hearth welcome but not absolutely necessary.

In other words, it's perfect pot roast weather.

After years of watching my mother and maternal grandparents assemble dozens of this Sunday dinner staple, and almost half a century of making it on my own, I never even glance at a recipe. Yet, except when I'm really homesick, it but rarely comes out exactly like the pot roasts of my childhood—by design.

The lovely thing about dishes like this is that once we've mastered the basic technique and keep in mind which flavors work well together, we're free to be in the moment and just cook. Read More 

I don't know how you all greeted the new year, but I hope it wasn't the way we did: in bed with head colds. Whenever I'm under the weather, if I can stand upright for more than two minutes, I drag myself to the store for a chicken and make a big pot of broth for chicken soup. (The one good thing about being in the middle of a pandemic is that the discipline of wearing a mask and constant hand-washing meant that there was little danger of passing that cold around.)

Yes, I could've just opened a can, and have been known to do that while waiting for heat to work its magic on the chicken, water, and a handful of vegetables. But the mass-produced contents of a can aren't at all the same and simply don't have the healing power of homemade soup. Read More