
In November of last year, it was announced that Southern Season, a Chapel Hill institution since 1975, and friend to generations of lovers of food would be closing. It’s been a long slow demise which began with the 2011 sale of the titan to TC Capital Fund.
But in its heyday, it was a fairyland for anyone fascinated by all things. It was a juggernaut; almost a culinary amusement park.

When The Kid was in elementary school, I worked at the Waldenbooks at University Mall for a few months. Whenever I could, I’d run down to Southern Season, at the far end, and pick up lunch.
In the salad bar was a pasta salad that I loved, I bugged the chef, and he finally told me the secret was water, it becomes a dressing that somehow lightly coats the pasta with flavor.

When The Kid was in high school, and Petey worked weekend nights at Duke, we would make a Saturday supper pasta that contained many ingredients that the absent Petey loathed, or were his personal kryptonite.
When we had our infrequent E-ticket adventures at University Mall, we always stocked up with plenty of pappardelle for our feast at Southern Season.

Thanks for the memories, old friend, and thanks for your time.
Contact debbie at dm@bullcity.mom.
Walden Books Pasta Salad

1 pound pasta rotelle, bow tie, or cavatapi, cooked according to directions, then drained and cooled—do not rinse)
2 cups frozen peas, thawed
Salt & pepper
Dressing

1 ½ cup mayonnaise
2 tablespoons malt vinegar
Hottest tap water (have a ½ cup ready, but you won’t need it all)
1 cup Cherubs tomatoes sliced in half
1 bunch green onions, sliced thin
Salt & pepper
Whisk together mayo and vinegar.
A teaspoon at a time, whisk in water until the dressing is just a little thicker than bottled creamy salad dressing. Stir in tomatoes and green onions. Refrigerate for at least an hour, but no more than two.
Assembly
30 minutes before service: In large bowl, stir together pasta, peas, and dressing. Start with a little dressing and continue adding until it is just a little too wet, it will tighten up, and as it does, coat the pasta.

Cover loosely with plastic wrap and sit in a cool corner of the kitchen for 30 minutes before service.
Southern Season Krypto-night

1-approximately 16-ounce package of parpappardelle pasta
3 tablespoons salt
3 thick slices of pancetta
1-pound mushrooms, cleaned and sliced uniformly
½ teaspoon dry thyme
1 bag or box frozen artichokes, thawed and halved
Many cloves of garlic, at least 8
1 cup chicken stock
½ cup Parmesan cheese, plus more for service
1 large lemon, zested and juiced
Salt & pepper
Pasta water
Put a large pot of water on for the pasta.
In a large skillet, cook pancetta or bacon until it is completely rendered and crispy, remove from pan and set aside on paper towels.
Put mushrooms and artichokes in 1 tablespoon of the reserved fat. Lower to medium-low, cover and cook for 5-7 minutes to facilitate the vegetables to release their liquid.
Uncover and turn up to medium, and cook, stirring frequently, until the veg has lightly browned.
Add garlic and lemon zest, cook just until the garlic starts thinking about browning.
With a slotted spoon or tongs, transfer pasta to skillet, stirring in a spoonful of pasta water at a time until everything’s coated, but not saucy at all.
Take off heat, add lemon juice and stir in peas. Serve in large shallow bowls with a healthy snow shower of Parm.

Makes 4-6 very hearty servings.











Although I have a deep and abiding love for it, I have a complicated relationship with Costco.
I often venture into that house-sized refrigerator where the keep their veggies and come out bearing a giant amount of this or that. Frequently, it’s their button mushrooms, that come in like a forty- or fifty-pound box.
What do we do with it now?
The other new, but really important ingredient was mushroom stock. I always discard the stems when I use mushrooms, but this time I tossed them into a pot with 2 cups of chicken stock, a handful of dried mushrooms, and a couple bay leaves. I then boiled it until it reduced by half, then strained it.
½ cup + 3 tablespoons butter, divided
Melt 3 tablespoons of butter in large, heavy pot. Add mushrooms, onion, thyme and rosemary. Season, then stir to coat. Turn to medium, cover and cook until the water’s released from veg. Uncover and cook until the liquid’s cooked out, and mushrooms start to brown. Pour in wine and cook until dry. Remove veg and set aside.
Preheat oven to 350. Add vegetables and noodles to pot. Stir until everything’s coated and veg are evenly distributed. Taste for seasoning and re-season, if necessary. Pour into greased casserole dish. Cover with parchment, then foil.
When I told him what we were having for dinner, he asked, “Isn’t this mushroom stuff just like something you’ve made before?”
Beets, bananas, and fish sticks are a few of the small list of items that shall not pass my child’s lips.
It’s a trick America’s Test Kitchen uses when making quick versions of slow-cooked dishes. At first blush, it seems like one of those internet hacks that sound like a life-changing miracle, but when actually attempted leaves you with regret, frustration, a wine-stained shoe, a broken bottle, and glass shards embedded in your forehead.
See? I told you it sounded bizarre.
1 pound 80/20 ground beef
Remove from heat, leave covered, and let sit for 15 minutes before serving. Top each serving with a pat of butter and some snipped chives if desired.
Thanks for your time.
When I was in junior high, cosmetics were a pretty simple affair. I had a couple bottles of nail polish, one lip gloss in strawberry, one in bubblegum, and one very highly prized cake of purple eye shadow. And my collection was not unlike those of most pubescent girls.
Now twelve-year-olds have their own You Tube channels where they offer makeup tutorials. These children, using stuff like primers, BB and CC creams, highlighting and lowlighting, sculpt their faces to look like glowing alabaster Erté statues.
On the menu is tender, unctuous pork belly, rice pilaf with mushrooms, and spectacularly garlicky haricot verts (that’s green beans, y’all)
Mushrooms:
For the past few visits to Trader Joe’s, The Kid and I have been ogling their pork belly. It’s fully cooked, which is great because cooking belly from Jump Street takes a long time. And it’s only about 6 bucks or so for a piece large enough for two. I finally succumbed and picked up one.
On the same trip I grabbed a bag of their fresh haricot vert. They come ready to cook (BTW-they’re pretty tasty raw, as well). I laid them into a non-stick frying pan with a couple tablespoons of water, a tablespoon of butter, ½ teaspoon of chicken base, 4 minced cloves of garlic, salt and pepper.
As long as it’s camouflaging a quick weeknight meal so that it looks like a fancy labor-intensive dinner, that is.
This dish is also having a moment. Savory oatmeal is big in two catagories; savory porridge and grain bowls. Both are as trendy as statement sleeves, platform shoes, and Mondrian-like graphics.
Except, never in savory form.
2 servings oats, uncooked
When ready to make oats, cook in broth according to directions. When finished cooking, check for seasoning, stir in onions, mushrooms, and sunflower seeds. Plate, then top with bits of goat cheese, and a big pile of pea shoots. Serves two as a side, or one as a main dish.
Thanks for your time.
I can’t live by your rules, man!
I have such an aversion to those people and their rules, that I’m the girl that would rather have a spectacular failure than let somebody tell me what to do.
Nope, and here’s why. Unless you’re purchasing and cooking restaurant quality aged meat, the best thing that can happen to your steak is some salt and a little rest in the fridge for a couple days.


















This recipe is made with frozen puff pastry, found in most supermarkets, and made by layering dough with butter, rolling, and refolding, countless times. This gives it up to a thousand layers. The water in the butter evaporates while baking. This produces steam which gives the puff.
2 sheets puff pastry, thawed



