Foodie Find: Nibbi’s Carolina Pimento Cheese

Pimento cheese spread.  Do you know it?  The cheesy, mayonnaise-y stuff was never a favorite of mine, particularly after having to make vats of the stuff, typically elbow deep in it on a daily basis when we had our market in North Carolina.

Pimento cheese is a very, very Southern thing for sure. Ladies of the South, those gentile Junior Leaguers, passing down their family recipes from mother to daughter and then mother to daughter again and again.  Consisting of nothing more than a combination of cheddar cheese, mayonnaise, pimento (almost always of the jarred variety) and spice, the concoction’s greatness is relative to the quantity and quality of those few ingredients that make for a superior dip.

It isn’t often that I stumble upon something here in Sonoma that is so utterly Southern that it immediately takes me home, in my mind and deep in my belly. My girlfriend brought the spread home a few nights ago, pre-dinner munchies that I eyed skeptically: pimento cheese, simple wheat crackers, and fresh sticks of celery.  I open up the cup, an almost garish orange concoction, which I truly was not prepared to be so instantly enamored of.  I spooned a bit on a cracker, immediately falling for the old fashioned combination of sharp cheddar cheeses, the creamy goodness from the homemade lemony mayo, and the addictive spicy bite of cayenne pepper that was in the Nibbi’s Carolina Pimento Cheese she picked up at Sonoma Market.

There is just something super comforting, something that reminds me of home, when I smear this dip on the not-at-all-fancy, buttery, wheat crackers she chose.  The dip, the old-school crackers, the perfectly crunchy sweet celery were just so perfect together, just something I would have never chose, sadly choosing our artisan-made, happy cow-produced, gourmet cheeses, but when she put all these modest ingredients together made me unbelievably happy.  Since that evening, I cannot seem to contain my infatuation for it; digging into it on a sailing picnic on the Bay and then again a Sunday gathering on the Plaza.  There cannot be a more simple, happily old fashioned, wonderfully Southern thing to dig into here in Sonoma.

Pimento Cheese

Making your own pimento cheese from scratch, with lots of charred roasted peppers, gives this spread a whole new life.  It is perfect for a light sandwich, spread on soft white bread, or as a down-home dip for crudités and butter crackers. Recipe courtesy of Frank Stitt

•  1 pound sharp yellow cheddar
• 1/4 pound cream cheese, softened
• 1 teaspoon freshly ground white pepper
• 3 large red bell peppers, roasted, peeled, seeded, and chopped
• 1/2 cup homemade mayonnaise or best-quality commercial mayonnaise
• 1 teaspoon sugar
• Splash of hot sauce, such as Tabasco or Cholulu
• 1/8 teaspoon cayenne pepper

Grind the cheddar in a food processor fitted with the grating disk, or grate it on the small-holed side of a hand grater. Transfer the grated cheese to a bowl, add the cream cheese, white pepper, bell peppers, mayonnaise, sugar, hot sauce, and cayenne, if using, and blend all together thoroughly. Refrigerate and serve chilled. (The spread will keep for several days in the refrigerator, but it usually disappears long before than.)

A scrumptious idea: Bacon salt

It was just a fluke.  A last minute thought that said, “Hey, that sounds good.”  I had a teeny piece of super crispy bacon and was wondering what to do, what to do?  I didn’t want to throw it away, but also thought it silly to wrap up such a little piece.  That is when it popped into my brain: bacon salt!  I chopped it up as finely as possible, almost a bacon dust, really.  Into my little salt dish it went, where I stirred it well and quickly began to discover just how many dishes benefit from a little porky, salty goodness.  Eggs?  Oh yes.  A baked potato?  Most certainly.  Brussels sprouts, sautéed kale and even a pork chop?  Yes, sir!  Bacon salt, who knew?

The best thing I ate this week: Asparagus

Oh, hello spring, that is finally you, isn’t it?  I wasn’t quite sure if you’d ever arrive, but was convinced you’re here this week when the sun shone down, warm on my bare arms and the world’s best asparagus dish reappeared on the menu at my beloved farm to table restaurant in St. Helena, Farmstead.  

The big fat, local spears are tossed in the restaurant’s own olive oil and then quickly roasted in their mighty hot wood-burning oven.  The asparagus arrive in a miniature cast iron skillet embellished with the most stunning spoonful of Bellwether Farms sheep’s milk ricotta cheese.  The tips are slightly charred, with a heavenly crunch, while the stalks are perfectly tender.  The whole mess emits a divine aroma of wood smoke.  Scoop up the remaining melted cheese with one of their outrageous, house-made rolls, sit back and remind yourself that yes, life is good.  For a closer version of more asparagus goodness, be sure to order the Farmer’s Toast, now sporting the same luscious ricotta, Delta asparagus, and a fried farm egg at the Fremont Diner.  Or, you might dive into a platter of the most massive asparagus spears sprinkled with toasted Marcona almonds and a drizzle of syrupy Balsamic at the girl and the fig.

 Strawberry watch: Watmaugh Patch finally opens!

I didn’t even have any cash on me as I tore past the Watmaugh Strawberry Patch today, didn’t plan on stopping at the rustic little shack, the purveyor of heavenly red, sweet yumminess.  The Mini screeched to a halt, almost on her own, screeching into the gravel lot in a cloud of dust.  I began tearing the car apart searching for enough change to purchase at least a pint of those very first, jewel-like, honey-sweet berries.  I was giddy with the thought of sinking my teeth into the juicy flesh of a perfect strawberry, finally, after these long, berry-free months.  

I lingered in the lot, unable to leave while the still warm from the sun berries sat screaming, “eat me” on the seat beside me.  I tore off the stem of each one, chucking it out the open top, greedily popping each one into my mouth, sticky red juice dripping down my chin, my fingers stained a very wonderful shade of pink.

In fact, all of a sudden, life has slowly begun to turn a happy, rosy shade of red.