Virginia Willis - Basic to Brilliant, Yall: 150 Refined Southern Recipes and Ways to Dress Them Up for Company

Some of the recipes in this book include raw eggs, meat, or fish. When these foods are consumed raw, there is always the risk that bacteria, which is killed by proper cooking, may be present. For this reason, when serving these foods raw, always buy certified salmonella-free eggs and the freshest meat and fish available from a reliable grocer, storing them in the refrigerator until they are served. Because of the health risks associated with the consumption of bacteria that can be present in raw eggs, meat, and fish, these foods should not be consumed by infants, small children, pregnant women, the elderly, or any persons who may be immunocompromised.

Copyright 2011 by Virginia Willis
Photographs copyright 2011 by Hlne Dujardin
Back cover photograph copyright 2011 by Angie Mosier

All rights reserved.
Published in the United States by Ten Speed Press, an imprint of the Crown Publishing Group, a division of Random House, Inc., New York.
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Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data is on file with the publisher

eISBN: 978-1-60774-069-8

Food styling by Gena Berry
Prop styling by Angie Mosier

v3.1

I vividly remember the day Virginia walked into our kitchen, and our lives. The day was warm, the sun shining, and Virginia appeared smiling in the doorway, fresh as a daisy off the train from Paris after an overnight flight from Atlanta. Within minutes she had introduced herself all around. An hour later I found her prepping dinner with the rest of the trainees as if shed been there for weeks. And after dinner, praise be, she was first at the sink without being askedthe acid test of successful traineeship at Chteau du Fe in Burgundy.

The chefs accepted her as one of their own as soon as they discovered she could dice carrots into tiny brunoise cubes and stir up a satin-smooth crme anglaise without further instruction. We always had a head trainee, one who guided the others through what could be long days spent inside and outside the kitchen, starting at the bakery for still-warm baguettes at 7:00 a.m. and ending with 8:30 p.m. dinner on the terrace overlooking the fields of wheat and corn as the sun went down. Virginia was the one who stood firm when the hollandaise curdled (start again with a new egg yolk) or the garden lettuces had worms in them (just avert your eyes). She would pilot novices through their first run on gougres, the cheese choux puffs that we served with a glass of the local sparkling Crmant to each of our many visitors.

Virginia soon realized the importance of what she was learning, that basics like stock and pte brise must be followed to the letter, but that white wine butter sauce is just a starting point, its up to the chef to make each variant of the sauce his own. One recipe of hers remains in my mind. After testing an obscure recipe for gumbo (not a success), we were left with nearly a whole crate of okra. Okra is not exactly on the front burner in Burgundy but in a French kitchen nothing, ever, is thrown away. The chefs were nonplussed, but Virginias grandmas corn-fried okra was the hit of the season (a tough call) at Chteau du Fe and made it into my next cookbook, with permission of course.

I guess corn-fried okra is pure southern, but I like to think that recipewith its French insistence on getting deep frying just rightbridged the culinary gap that Virginia has navigated so adroitly here. Dishes such as Southern Ratatouille, Shrimp Rillettes, Garlic-Stuffed Prime Rib Roast, Winter Greens and Butternut Squash Gratin, and Bittersweet Chocolate Bread Pudding sum up the best of both worlds. Virginia came to France for three months and stayed with us for three years. She helped with books in the editorial office, she oversaw much of what we ate (a pleasure for us all!), and little by little she became a lifelong friend.

Since those early days at Chteau du Fe, Virginia and I have shared many happy experiences. Weve worked on booksful of photo shoots, with Virginia styling and me running the set. Weve stood side by side on the cooking platform many a time, sometimes with an audience, others in front of a camera. Weve often cooked together, and occasionally weve just talkedwere both very good at that! In one case, I appeared solo in a one-hour cooking special produced by Virginia, and the anchor of her beaming face beside the cameraman ensured the success of the show. She did not hesitate to tweak my hair or powder my nose, nor to tell me that wont doso refreshing!

In Basic to Brilliant Yall, Virginia brings us the best of both worlds. Her love of cooking goes back to her grandmother in the South. Onto that rich history she has grafted the techniques and recipesthe reduction sauces and seasonal vegetablesshe found in France. She has applied her own imagination to the vivid palate of her native southern ingredients. For anyone who loves French food or southern cooking, either one or both, this book calls out an irresistible welcome. I cant wait to try Kale Omelet and Burnt Caramel Cake. Basic to Brilliant is a great concept, too, summing up the idea that you can leave a simple recipe alone, or take and run with it to create a festive dish. As for the Yall, Virginia has me there. No way, ever, will I be able to pronounce the tongue-twister. So, Im reverting to a third language to wish you all as much joy in the kitchen as Virginia and I have had together, with a resounding, multi-national Bon Apptit!

Ive been cooking as a professional for a little more than fifteen years, but my passion actually started when I wasnt tall enough to reach the counter in my grandmothers country kitchen. I called her Meme, and she was the light of my life. The kitchen never really changed much. There never was enough space for everything. The overhead light hummed. My grandmothers recipes were posted on the inside of the cabinet, some written in her old-fashioned, loopy, spidery penmanship directly on the wood.

My grandmother and I spent hours together in that kitchen. There are photos of me as young as three years old standing on a stool helping. As dinner cooked, wed roll out the biscuits, and shed let me make a handprint with the scraps of dough. The tiny fingers on my biscuit would cook very dark in the heat of the oven, taking on a slightly bitter, almost nutty taste. I know thats where my love for cooking took root, working at her side on her linoleum countertop, in the gentle breeze of the oscillating fan.