Free Southern Comfort by Allison Vines-Rushing Page A

where my father was from, and where my papaw Jack still had some land planted with corn. We often drove down a dusty road out to the “old place” where the small board-and-batten shack my dad grew up in still stood, mostly filled with corn husks.
    The land on the other side of the road from the shack was mostly pine woods, but a clearing up front held troughs also full of corn. My papaw Jack, in his summertime straw cowboy hat, would yell out “come on UP” into the woods, and a herd of wild horses would come running. We were ready with pockets filled with sugar cubes that they would nuzzle out of the palms of our hands. My papaw named one pretty red-and-white painter horse Allison, after me.
    Whenever I return to Winnsboro these days, I drive slowly along the highway with my windows down. The road is surrounded by soybean, cotton, and corn farms, which are dotted with rusted tractors and cotton gins, and not any different than when I was a kid. This feeling of knowing who I am and where I am from always comes over me on that highway and calms me. It also makes me understand why the dream of having my own garden (or farm) is never far away.

    CREAMED COLLARDS
    S ERVES 4
    Growing up in Mississippi, we Rushings always had a vegetable garden. After the tomatoes and eggplants were done for the season, my dad would plant green onions and greens for the fall, which would last until the first frost. This recipe is perfect for that last batch of greens, when the cool weather beckons the richness of nutmeg and cream.

    2 bunches collard greens, thoroughly washed
    3 tablespoons unsalted butter
    3 shallots, finely minced
    3 cloves garlic, peeled and smashed with the back of a knife
    Sprig of thyme
    1 bay leaf
    1 cup heavy cream
    ½ teaspoon freshly grated nutmeg
    Salt and freshly ground black pepper
    Fill a large stockpot with water and season it with enough salt so it tastes like sea water. Bring the water to a boil over high heat. Fill a bowl with ice water and have nearby.
    Meanwhile, trim off the leaves of the collards, removing the central rib and stem; discard the ribs and stems. Drop the leaves into the rapidly boiling water and cook in batches, being careful not to drop the temperature of the water. Boil, uncovered, until the collards are tender, about 3 minutes. Transfer the cooked collards to the ice water bath to stop cooking and cool down.
    Once the collards are cool, remove them from the ice water bath and squeeze them to remove as much water as you can. Chop the collards finely and reserve.
    In a large sauté pan, melt the butter over medium heat. Decrease the heat to low and add the shallots, garlic, thyme, and bay leaf. Cook the shallots until they are soft and translucent, about 3 minutes. Add the cream, increase the heat to medium and cook until reduced by half, about 5 minutes. Remove the thyme and bay leaf. Stir in the collards and cook until they are warm and coated well with the cream.
    To serve, sprinkle with freshly grated nutmeg and adjust the seasoning with salt and pepper, if needed.
    FRICASSEE OF PEAS AND BEANS
    S ERVES 4
    The summer market here in New Orleans always has a plethora of fresh peas: purple hull, pink-eyed, black-eyed, and crowders, perfect for combining in a simple stew or fricassee. It takes me back to Fourth of July at my Aunt Ruby’s, when I was a young girl and we kids would be put to work shelling peas on the front steps. Little did I know then those skills would come in handy as a cook in Alain Ducasse’s kitchen, where I was frequently delegated to an enormous mountain of peas for shelling duty.

    8 ounces fresh black-eyed peas (or any other variety)
    8 ounces fresh baby lima beans
    1 bay leaf
    4 sprigs thyme
    6 cups chicken stock
    2 carrots, 1 trimmed and left whole and 1 finely diced
    3 stalks celery, 1 trimmed and left whole and 2 finely diced
    2 small onions, 1 halved and 1 finely diced
    1 head garlic, top trimmed
    1 teaspoon salt
    ½ teaspoon freshly ground black pepper
    ½ cup