Kiss My Grits

I was reminded by a dear cousin yesterday that when writing about our family's food heritage, don't forget that grits practically flow through our veins.  Although I don't eat a lot of them these days, they were a staple on our grandmother's kitchen table.  I'm talking about real, slow-cooked grits, not that instant stuff where you zip open the little packet, add some water, and nuke in for a couple of minutes.  That mess is only good for plaster repair!

Please indulge me as I wax nostalgic for a moment about the summers I spent on my grandmother's farm.  My mom and her 5 sisters and 4 brothers were born and raised in Ozark County, MO and we would spend weeks up there playing "country mouse" every summer when I was a kid.  After riding in the car for two days, we knew we had reached our destination when we turned off the blacktop road and heard the crunch of gravel under the tires on the path that lead to the farm - the "longest driveway", I used to call it.  The sound of Grandma's dog, Lassie, barking the announcement of company coming to visit just added the sweet to the tea.

Those summers were a little slice of pure Americana!  Family would converge from Iowa, Arkansas, Florida, & California to join the ones who still lived in Missouri.  All the aunts would gather in the kitchen to cook and gossip (bless their hearts!), the uncles would do manly things like baling hay or feeding the cattle, and the cousins would skip rocks down at the creek (pronounced, "crik"), take turns churning the homemade ice cream, or jumping off the hay bales into the livestock feed.   Let's not forget the old truck in the front yard and the tire swing! 

The aromas that filled my grandmother's kitchen were as predictable as night and day...bacon grease and coffee - coming from the bottomless coffee pot that fed my Uncle Pete's caffeine habit.  Every time I step foot into a Cracker Barrel restaurant and breathe deeply, I'm transported right back to the place where a hug was just an arm reach away.  I sure wish my kids could have experienced a little taste of those idyllic summers but, alas, the old homestead was sold years ago.  However, I can still share those memories through my food.

I went back to that place a year ago and, thankfully, not much has changed.  This time I was the adult and the crunch of gravel was under the tires of a car that I was driving.  The further I drove down the "longest driveway" the more the years fell away and those childhood memories filled my heart with joy.

So, in honor of my family and their love of grits I offer this recipe.  This one is for you, Greg - love you cuz!

Cheesy Baked Grits

Ingredients

• 1 quart milk
• 1/2 cup butter
• 1 cup uncooked grits
• 1 teaspoon salt
• 1/2 teaspoon white pepper
• 1 cup shredded Cheddar cheese
• 1/3 cup butter
• 1/2 cup grated Parmesan cheese

Directions

1. Preheat oven to 350 degrees F (175 degrees C). Lightly grease a medium baking dish.
2. Bring the milk to a boil in a pot over medium heat. Melt 1/2 cup butter in the boiling milk. Gradually mix in the grits, and cook 5 minutes, stirring constantly. Remove from heat, and season with salt and pepper. Beat with a whisk or electric mixer until smooth. Mix in the Cheddar cheese and 1/3 cup butter. Transfer to the prepared baking dish, and sprinkle with Parmesan cheese.
3. Bake 1 hour in the preheated oven, until firm.

This makes a wonderful side dish on its own.  You can also use it as a base for shrimp & grits, or top it with braised short ribs, country ham, etc.  The possibilities are endless.  Just have fun with it!

Cheers!