Copyright 2014 by Francine Bryson
Photographs copyright 2014 by Ben Fink
Foreword copyright 2014 by Jeff Foxworthy
All rights reserved.
Published in the United States by Clarkson Potter/Publishers, an imprint of the Crown Publishing Group, a division of Random House LLC, a Penguin Random House Company, New York.
www.crownpublishing.com
www.clarksonpotter.com
CLARKSON POTTER is a trademarkand POTTER with colophon is a registered trademarkof Random House LLC.
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Bryson, Francine.
Blue ribbon baking from a redneck kitchen / Francine Bryson ; foreword by Jeff Foxworthy ; photographs by Ben Fink. First edition.
Includes index.
1. Cooking, AmericanSouthern style.
2. Desserts. 3. Baking. I. Title.
TX715.2.S68B795 2014
641.5975dc23 2014018086
ISBN 978-0-8041-8578-3
eBook ISBN 978-0-8041-8579-0
Cover design by Ashley Tucker
Cover photography by Ben Fink
v3.1
To Mama, Daddy, Great-Granny,
Granny, and Nana, who taught me
to be the proud Southern woman I am
FOREWORD
I remember my first day on the set of the American Baking Competition. I had read the profiles of the ten contestants who came from all over the country, half men and half women. There were moms, dads, teachers, and a fireman. Some were loud and others quiet. Their common thread was they all shared a love of baking.
Having watched the British version of the show I knew that the different personalities of the bakers was what made the show so entertainingand the woman at the station in the back right corner of the room had a barrel full of personality!
I liked Francine from the moment I met her. She was outgoing and funny, and you never had to ask if she was in a good mood or a bad mood. Plus you could tell she knew what she was doing in the kitchen. I quickly learned to hang around her station because she loved to talk and would share a beater covered in icing or a spoonful of something delicious as she created masterpieces.
During pie week each baker had to make a pie from their own recipe. Francine announced to the judges that she was making a chocolate, peanut butter, and bacon pie. I think our British judge, Paul Hollywood, threw up in his mouth just a little bit when he heard that. He said, That sounds disgusting! I laughed and said, I wouldnt bet against her!
I think my favorite moment on the show came when the judges had to taste the finished pies. Paul took a bite of Francines, chewed slowly, hung his head for a minute, then looked up, and said, That is absolutely delicious! And it was!
I knew at that moment that Francine would go deep in the competition. Week after week, challenge after challenge, she came through. She was full of imagination and came up with recipes that just made you shake your head and laugh until you tried them. Then you were just smiling.
For Francine, cooking is a love language. She talks about learning to make this or that because someone in her family loved it. I remember one day she was making something from her Mamas recipe. As I dipped my finger into the bowl I said, Tell me about your Mama. Suddenly she stopped stirring and as I looked up I saw her eyes were full of tears. I can only imagine how proud her Mama would be to see her little girl on television in a national baking competition.
As the week of the finals arrived there were only three bakers remaining. On the line was $250,000, a contract for a cookbook, and the title of Americas Best Amateur Baker. One of the finalists really wanted the money to help start her own business. Another finalist wanted the title. When I asked Francine what she wanted the most, she whispered, The cookbook. See, she has an album full of family recipes that go back to before the turn of the last century, most in their original handwriting. This was a treasure to her, and to share it was her hearts desire.
The pressure during the finale was so thick you could feel it as you entered the room. At one point I walked over to Francine and said, Dont worry, even if you dont win this competition you are going to have a cookbook. You are too good not to. And I would be honored to write the foreword for you when you do. I am not sure she believed me.
As it turned out the title went to another contestant in a very tight vote. We all hugged, cried a little, and thanked God for the chance to be a part of something like this. It had ended up being one of my favorite projects ever.
Months later, I received an email from Francine saying that she had indeed been given a contract to write a cookbook and she wondered if I was still willing to write a foreword. Are you kidding me? Of course!
So I may not be the sharpest knife in the drawer but it turns out that sometimes I do know what I am talking about. I am excited to finally get to hold this book and to try some of the wonderful recipes compiled here. I am also excited because Francine told me if I was ever near her house that all I had to do was show up and she would cook for me. If you behave, I might even take you with me. It will be worth the trip. I promise.
Bone Appateet!
Jeff Foxworthy
INTRODUCTION
My life in the kitchen started almost from when I was born. When other youngins were playing in the yard, I was inside messing with the pots and pans most of the time. I grew up in Greenville, South Carolina, a block away from each of my grandmasGranny a block up and Nana one down. Me and Mama were always at one house or the other, baking, snacking, chatting. I just loved watching them cook. By the time I got old enough for an Easy Bake oven, we all knew that little light bulb just wasnt going to thrill me. Instead I made my first pie at the age of four. Now Im not saying it was the best pie, but it was a real good starting point, and it shaped my whole life, right there.
Every day after school I was at either Nana or Grannys house and we would cook supper and bake. This is where I formed my love and passion for baking, hearing their stories of cooking through the Depression and how to keep the lights on and feed the kids on a mill workers pay. I think I realized even then how strong the women were in my family and not to take what we had for granted (its not like we were rich, but at least we werent rationing sugar); everything seemed pretty easy compared to those hard days past. Those afternoons formed me into who I am today.
Then, when I was eleven, Daddy and Mama moved our family down to the state of Florida. Leaving my grandmas and the comfort of the hills I was raised in sure wasnt easy. I still baked, but it just wasnt the same without Nana and Grannyand the fruit from those mountain orchards. I spent less time in the kitchen and, with my parents both working, a lot more time doing the household chores instead. I always looked forward to visits back home, or to my grandparents visits down to see us, because I knew that we would bake together again. I even played hooky from school to spend the day with them in the kitchen, but those ladies could tell I had not really been practicing. Nana even told me that a woman only has so many instincts; its what you do with themhow much you develop themthat counts.