“Elevated?” I said. “It’s elevated because I’m at the doctor’s office getting prodded and probed in every invasive way imaginable. Anyone’s heart rate would go up under these battlefield conditions.”

“See you in six weeks,” he said.

So here I am, a die-hard salt lover, trying to live on 1,400 mg of sodium per day. Sayonara soft drinks. Hello H2O.

We are trained from an early age to love salt. It’s in our genetic makeup. For thousands of years salt has been one of the primary elements in our lives. Our forefather’s forefathers used it to preserve proteins, and we use it as the primary seasoning in all of our foods.

Our mothers made us take baths in Epsom salt (actually, I know that Epsom salt is magnesium, but it has salt in the title, so I went for it), our coaches made us swallow salt tablets at football practice, we are taught to throw salt over our shoulders to counteract bad luck, and now we are told to eliminate as much of it as we can.

My friend Banks lives on cigarettes, black coffee, and salt. His body is currently being held together by tar and sodium with cheap convenience store coffee acting as the glue that binds all of the other parts together. He is a walking enigma. He’s never sick. He is one of those dump-a-ton-of-salt-on-his-food-before-he-tastes-it kinds of people. No one is telling him to lower his sodium intake.

Sea Salt vs Table Salt

One friend told me to switch to sea salt. Actually, I already use sea salt. Everyone should, but not for health reasons. Sea salt and table salt have basically the same chemical makeup (sodium and chloride), but sea salt tastes better. Table salt is more processed, has less minerals, and usually has iodine added.

Fleur De Sel is an entirely different matter. It, or lesser variations of gourmet salt, is what I use at home. Gourmet salts can be expensive (up to $40.00 per pound) but they make a huge difference in the outcome of a dish. Fleur De Sel, and its lesser cousins, should only be used when salting a finished product such as a salad, egg dish, or finished protein on the table.

Using expensive gourmet salts while baking or as a component of a dish that is yet-to-be cooked is a waste of money. In those instances, a good quality sea salt works fine.

For those who have never switched from table salt to sea salt or another gourmet salt, you have no idea what you are missing. When tasted side-by-side, table salt has a metallic, harsh taste. Whereas a good quality salt has a warm, clean, spread-all-over-your-tongue saltiness that is usually worth the extra money.

At the Purple Parrot Café we use a hand-mined Himalayan pink salt to add to our butter at the table. This salt was crystallized over 200 million years ago in ancient sea beds which had been covered by volcanic lava, protecting it from modern-day pollution. It is some of the purest salt on earth.

Though for the next six weeks, I’ll lay off the 200 million year-old salt, I’ll eliminate the sodium-laden soft drinks, and I’ll cut way back on my use of sea salt. In the meantime, you can catch me living vicariously through my friend Banks, the King of Salt.

Shrimp Harrison

2 lbs. 21-25 Shrimp, peeled and deveined
1 tsp Sea Salt
1 tsp Old Bay Seasoning
1/2 tsp Black Pepper, freshly ground
3 TBSP Olive Oil
2 cups Mushrooms, sliced
1 1/2 tsp Garlic, minced
1/2 cup White Wine
1 Tbl White Vinegar
1/4 cup Chicken Broth
1 cup Caramelized Onions
3/4 cup Unsalted Butter, cut into small cubes
2 Tbl Parsley. Freshly chopped

1 Recipe Really Rich Grits

Season the shrimp with the salt, Old Bay Seasoning and black pepper.

Place the olive oil in a large, heavy duty sauté pan over high heat. Heat the oil until it just begins to smoke. Carefully place the shrimp in the smoking hot pan. Allow the shrimp to cook without moving them for 2-3 minutes. Add the mushrooms and garlic and cook for 5 minutes. Using a slotted spoon, remove the shrimp and hold them in a warm place.

Add the white wine and vinegar and reduce until there is almost no liquid remaining. Add in the chicken broth and cook until only one Tablespoon remains. Add the butter cubes and stir constantly until butter has dissolved, being careful not to cook it too long (if you cook it too long at this stage, the butter will separate).

Add the caramelized onions and warm shrimp back into the pan and stir so that the sauce coats the shrimp. Remove from heat and stir in parsley.

Place 3/4 cup of cooked grits into each serving dish, top the grits with the shrimp and serve immediately.

Yield: 8-10 servings

Caramelized Onions*

2 Tbl Unsalted Butter
3 cups Yellow Onion, thinly slice
1 tsp Kosher Salt

Melt butter over medium-low heat in a large sauté pan. Add onions and salt to the melted butter. Cook onions for 15-20 minutes, stirring them often to prevent burning. The onions should continue cooking until a rich brown color is obtained.

Really Rich Grits

1 quart heavy whipping cream
1 cup grits
2 tsp salt
1 tsp black pepper
1 bay leaf
1/2 cup unsalted butter cut into cubes
1 cup parmesan cheese, grated

Preheat oven to 275 degrees

Stir together the cream, grits, salt pepper and bay leaf.
Place the mixture in an oven proof baking dish and cover. Bake for2 1/3-3 hours, stirring every 30 minutes.

Once the grits are soft and creamy, stir in the butter cubes and parmesan cheese. Serve immediately.

I am sitting in The Original Pancake House eating Swedish pancakes while trying not to get lingonberry sauce on my keyboard as I try and finish a column before my deadline.

Breakfast is my favorite meal of the day, and breakfast joints are my favorite places to be in the morning. I can always learn a lot about a new town or city just from hanging out at the local, popular breakfast joint. Most of the information can be procured from one table— it’s the table of retired men who gather every morning over politics and biscuits. They are the “coffee guys.” Find them, and you’ll gather more information that could ever be attained at the local chamber of commerce.

As I look around The Original Pancake House, I see a family of four who may or may not be on vacation. I see a retired couple at a two-top enjoying coffee and not speaking because they choose to— not because of any tiff. Across the restaurant a young couple is holding hands across the table, they shared a long embrace when they joined each other as if they hadn’t seen each other in a while. There are three tables of apparent business meetings, a table with two couples drinking coffee together, a man speaking loudly on his cell phone, and the two guys next to me are discussing which of Neil Young’s albums is the best (I vote for “Harvest,” though “Rust Never Sleeps” is a close second).

There are no coffee guys in the Original Pancake House, which leads me to believe that this might not be THE breakfast joint in Boulder.

My favorite breakfast joints in Mississippi are:

Big Bad Breakfast in Oxford— The consummate 21st Century breakfast joint. They cure their own bacon, smoke their homemade sausage, make their own jams and preserves, and buy local, cage-free organic eggs, and local stone-ground grits. It’s a good thing that I live 260 miles away from Big Bad Breakfast.

Southbound Bagel— Located in downtown Hattiesburg where I can be found two or three mornings every week eating a whole wheat bagel with egg and bacon, with a cinnamon-raisin bagel on the side. It’s located in the historic California Sandwich Shop building next to the railroad tracks and has all of the low-key character and charm of a perfect breakfast joint. All the bagels and breads are made fresh every morning, and if you don’t get there early, your favorite will be gone.

Broad Street Bakery in Jackson— is really not a “joint” in the classic atmospheric sense, but it’s an excellent place for breakfast. I love croissants, and as croissants go, they don’t get any better than Broad Street. The atmosphere is very intriguing to me as high school students in uniform gather over pastries before class and mingle with soccer moms on their way to the gym, while lawyers on their way downtown rush in for a quick coffee, passing a table of bohemians relaxing while reading the morning paper. Jeff Good and Dan Blumenthal have created a culinary institution that is actually a microcosm of their North Jackson neighborhood.

In the end, I think that’s what makes a great breakfast joint— a place that is representative of the entire community. That, and freshly squeezed orange juice.

The Original Pancake House in Boulder serves excellent freshly squeezed orange juice, but the pancakes leave something to be desired. It took me 48 years to learn that I am not a fan of lingonberries, but I’ve always known what makes a good restaurant joint.

That name might not mean much to most people, but Mr. Howes is partially responsible for my career in foodservice.

The online obituary stated, “Millions of young girls baked their first cookies, cupcakes, and brownies because of Ronald Howes, Sr.” That is probably true. But there was at least one boy who got his culinary start using a 100-watt light bulb— me.

At six-years old, I asked for, and received, Howes’ foremost invention— the Easy Bake Oven— for Christmas. I caught a ton of flack from my brother. He and his friends took great joy in badgering me about the plastic cerulean-blue toy that cooked food using a light bulb. Mind you, they did all of their badgering with their mouths full.

Food was the great peacemaker in my neighborhood. When kids got into a fight or tussle, the resentment was usually short lived. Once we made it to someone’s house for a snack, all was forgotten.

At the time the only men who cooked seriously, spoke with a foreign accent. One might see a French chef on an episode of “Bewitched.” They were usually portrayed as being temperamental, fussy, and over the top. Certainly men were working as short-order cooks and cafeteria laborers in the 1960s, but they didn’t get the notoriety or the television exposure.

Up until the late 1970s, if one wanted to operate a serious, fine-dining restaurant, the chef had to be French, or the food had to be of French influence. No more. I don’t know if the Easy Bake Oven can take credit for that, but in my case, it’s how I got my start.

Today, I would venture to say that more men are cooking on television than women. And the men aren’t stereotypical and temperamental Bewitched-like Frenchmen. They are guys like Mario Batali and Anthony Bourdain— real men, cooking real food.

I like to cook, but I love to eat. I probably didn’t ask for an Easy Bake Oven because I was interested in cooking professionally one day. The thought process was more than likely along the lines of— if I get this toy, I’ll be able to eat brownies and cakes anytime I want under the guise of playing in my room. I won’t have to ask for more cookies or another slice of cake, I’ll just make them myself. It will be snack time all day long.

Nevertheless, I cooked with it, and I received positive praise for my efforts. That had to figure in somewhere in my future career selection.

According to the obituary, Howes was a tireless inventor who kept working until his death. Just a few weeks ago he was working on a contract for the United States Department of Defense. Whatever he was creating for the Department of Defense was probably top secret. I like to think it was a newer version of the Easy Bake Oven, manufactured specifically for the Middle East, with hopes of bringing warring factions together over small chocolate cakes and brownies, just as it did in my old neighborhood.

Over 20 million Easy Bake Ovens have been sold since 1963. I don’t know how many of those were sold to boys, but there’s at least one who is grateful to Mr. Howes and his inventive spirit.

The 100-watt light bulb of the toy industry just went out.

The Ultimate Chocolate Cake
Cake:
1 3/4 cup cake flour
3/4 cup cocoa (preferable Dutch processed)
2 teaspoons baking soda
1 teaspoon baking powder
1/2 teaspoon kosher salt
2 eggs
2 cups sugar
3/4 cup melted butter
1 cup buttermilk
1 cup brewed coffee, at room temperature
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
To make the Cake: Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Lightly butter 2 (9-inch) cake pans and line with parchment. Butter the parchment and flour pans, shaking out the excess.
Sift together flour, cocoa, baking soda, baking powder, and salt. Reserve.
In a mixer with a whip attachment, beat eggs and sugar until thick and lemon-colored. Beat in the melted butter. Alternately add dry ingredients with buttermilk, scraping the bowl once or twice. Add the coffee and vanilla to form a thin batter. Divide between prepared cake pans.
Bake until a toothpick inserted in the center of a cake comes out clean, about 40 to 45 minutes. Cool in pan for 15 minutes. Invert onto cooling racks, peel off paper and cool completely.
When cool, split each cake in half with a serrated slicing knife. Freeze the layers for 1 hour before assembling the finished cake. Make the filling and icing while the layers are freezing.
Place the first layer on a cake serving dish and spread a thin layer of the filling evenly over the cake. Repeat this process until you have the layers assembled, spread the icing over the top layer and around the sides.
Filling:
1 1/2 cups semisweet chocolate pieces
8 ounces cream cheese, softened
3/4 cup powdered sugar
Place the chocolate in a double boiler and heat until completely melted. While the chocolate melts, use an electric mixer with a wire whip attachment to beat together the cream cheese and powdered sugar. Beat until it is light and fluffy. Allow the melted chocolate to cool slightly, then drizzle it into the cream cheese mixture and continue beating until the filling is cool. This spreads best if used immediately.

Frosting:
6 ounces unsweetened chocolate
1/2 cup unsalted butter, softened
4 cups powdered sugar
1 cup sour cream
1 Tbl vanilla extract

Melt the chocolate over a double boiler. Use an electric mixer with a wire whip attachment to cream together the butter and powdered sugar. Add the melted chocolate, sour cream, and vanilla extract and beat until light and fluffy. As with the filling, this spreads best if used immediately.

Chocolate lovers pace themselves through a meal, making sure not to order too much in any one course so that they may receive their reward in the end— some type of rich, decadent, chocolate creation.

Fruit lovers, on the other hand, go full bore ahead and dive into a meal from the first course, ordering multiple appetizers, a soup, a salad, an entrée, and sometimes an additional entrée for the middle of the table for everyone to share. At the end of the meal, they want something light and sweet, but not too filling such as fresh fruit or a sorbet

Chocolate lovers are patient, passionate, contemplative, and resilient. Fruit lovers are compulsive, impatient, high-strung, and uninhibited.

I am a fruit lover. My favorite dessert at the end of a meal is a small bowl of fresh fruit and a little bit of English cream or crème anglaise. If that’s not available, I usually go for a nice, light fruit sorbet. In a more casual restaurant, I’m looking for a fruit filled tart or pie once the meal is done.

Chocolate lovers love chocolate in any form. They don’t care how it is presented as long as chocolate is the primary component in the dessert.

My family and friends who dine with me on a regular basis know that I love to front load my meals. I almost always find the first course offerings more interesting than main course entrees. Some who feel this way just order two or three appetizers as their meal. I probably should do this, but just can’t bring myself to stop at the first page of the menu. I typically move on and order an entrée for me, and then a secondary entrée to share.

The secondary entrée is ordered because I can’t make up my mind between to entrée offerings. So instead of looking like a pig (which I am) I order a second entrée “for the table” so that everyone can have a taste. Although it is me who winds up eating most of it before I move on to some type of fruit finish.

It’s not that I don’t like chocolate. I do. I just don’t like it at the end of a meal. I especially don’t like flourless chocolate cake. True chocolate lovers love flourless chocolate cake. I like my cake t be cakelike. All of this flourless chocolate cake business drives me mad. Flourless chocolate cake is not “cake” at all. It’s just a big glob of chocolate. The term “cake” shouldn’t be anywhere in the title.

There are, of course those who like to combine fruit and chocolate. They are the chocolate-covered strawberry crowd. These people have a true zest for life. They want it all and they want it now.

Doctors are fruit lovers; lawyers are chocolate lovers. Cat lovers eat chocolate; dog lovers eat fruit. Most Baptists are chocolate lovers. Methodists prefer fruit. Catholics like fruit as long as it’s poached in wine. Episcopalians skip desert altogether and have another gin and tonic.

Fresh Strawberries with Crème Anglaise

1 cup cream
1 cup half and half
2 Tbl Grand Marnier
3/4 cup sugar, divided
5 egg yolks
2 tsp vanilla extract

In a 1 quart stainless steel pot bring the cream, half and half, Grand Marnier, vanilla and half of the sugar to a simmer. While it is heating, combine the yolks and remaining sugar in a mixing bowl and whip until light in color.

Slowly temper (pour) the cream mixture into to yolks. Once all of the cream has been added into the yolk mixture, return the mixture back to the pot. Cook over low-medium heat stirring constantly with a wooden spoon or spatula, do not use a whip. Make sure to stir the edges and bottom of the saucepot well while the sauce is cooking. Cook until the mixture becomes thick enough to coat a spoon or spatula.

Remove from the heat pour the sauce immediately into a stainless steel bowl and cool down over an ice bath. Refrigerate until needed. This sauce will hold for three to four days covered and refrigerated.

4 pints fresh strawberries, hulls removed and berries quartered
1/2 cup sugar

While the sauce is cooling, prepare the strawberries.
Place the cleaned and cut berries in a large mixing bowl, sprinkle the sugar over the berries and gently toss them in the bowl so that the sugar gets evenly distributed. Do this 1-2 hours prior to serving.

To serve, divide the strawberries evenly among 8 small chilled serving bowls or ice cream dishes. Drizzle one quarter cup of the sauce over the berries and serve.

Yield:
8 servings

I had to get that off of my chest at the onset of this column. I’m published in 30 newspapers throughout Mississippi and Louisiana, and almost all of them run the column on a different day. Some of you are reading this a week after Tracy Porter snagged one of Peyton Manning’s passes and sped 74 yards to seal the deal in the Super Bowl, it’s old news to you. Others are reading with fresh eyes, the next day. No matter when your newspaper decides to publish this column, it is always written at the same time every week— early Monday mornings.

This Monday morning just so happens to be only 12 hours removed from Drew Brees launching the Lombardy trophy high over his head in Miami. Moments before that iconic pose, there was a great shot of Brees wiping tears from his eyes while holding his one-year old son on the field of Sun Life Stadium. It was a great father-and-son moment. No. Actually it was the ultimate father-son moment— reaching a professional pinnacle and a personal pinnacle in one capsulated, adrenalin, and emotion-filled moment.

Twelve hours ago, I was having one of those moments with my son. He’s eight-years old. We’ve been going to Saints game since he was four. We watched the game together in my bedroom. My wife was doing stuff around the house while my daughter was shopping with a friend. My son and I were sequestered in the back of the house wearing our Drew Brees jerseys, with a delivery pizza, a two-liter soft drink, and the Saints in the big game— it was the best Super Bowl party I have ever attended.

During the interception return we were jumping up and down on the bed screaming and high-fiving. As the final whistle blew, and the outcome was final, we were running laps around the room, screaming “Who Dat?” and hugging each other. Who Dat?, indeed.

We turned down several invitations to Super Bowl parties. We were honored, and appreciated the invitations, but I’ve grown a little anti-social when it comes to big football games. I like to sit and focus on the game. My son spent the first half reading a book and glancing up every time he heard me get excited, but the second half we were both glued to the screen, and later dancing on the ceiling.

He’s only eight. He can’t really remember much that happened before he was four. For all he knows, the New Orleans saints are supposed to win the Super Bowl, they are just that good, if only that were true.

One is tempted at this point in the column to run off the standard laundry list of items detailing the Saints misfortunes, bumbling, and suffering over the last four decades, but those days are over. We have exorcized those demons. The New Orleans Saints are World Champions. It is a new day. My son thinks Drew Brees hung the moon (I’m thinking so, too), he thinks that the Saints will win many more Super Bowls (beginning with next year), and he thinks that watching a football game with his father is a blast. For a football-loving father, it doesn’t get any better than that.

I’m not naïve enough to believe that his mind won’t change soon enough on the last point. He’ll have a driver’s license and want to watch the big games with his friends. But until then, I’m going to enjoy every moment of every game that I can.

New Orleans just received enough positive national coverage to wipe out the previous five years of negative news. It’s a new day in the Crescent City. The Saints won the Super Bowl, New Orleans is back, fathers and sons are united, Katrina is a distant memory, and in the words of John Steinbeck, “Once again the world is spinning in greased grooves.”

KING CAKE BREAD PUDDING

2 cups milk
2 cups heavy whipping cream
3/4 cup sugar, divided
4 egg yolks
8 eggs
2 tsp vanilla
1/8 tsp salt
1 tsp cinnamon

1 8-10” round cream cheese filled King Cake

Place the milk, cream and half of the sugar in a small sauce pot and place over medium heat. Bring this mixture to a simmer, stirring occasionally to prevent the sugar from burning. While the milk mixture is heating, place the remaining sugar, egg yolks, whole eggs, vanilla and salt into a stainless steel mixing bowl. Using a wire whisk, beat the egg mixture until it become light yellow in color. Slowly begin adding the hot milk to the beaten eggs, whisking constantly to prevent the eggs from cooking.
Cut the King Cake into two inch thick slices.
Pour half of the custard into a two-quart round Pyrex baking dish (nine-inch diameter).
Submerge the King cake slices into the custard. Pour the remaining custard over the top and cover the baking dish. Cover and refrigerate over night.

Preheat oven to 325 degrees.

Remove the covering from the refrigerated bread pudding and gently press down the King Cake so that the custard completely covers the surface. Cover the bread pudding with a piece of parchment paper, and then cover the paper with a piece of aluminum foil.
In a roasting pan large enough to hold the Pyrex dish, place two inches of hot water. Place the Pyrex dish in the water and bake for 40 minutes. Remove the foil and parchment paper and bake for 10 additional minutes.

Remove from the oven and allow the pudding to rest for one hour before serving.
Serve with Brandy Crème Anglais

Yields 8-10 servings

Brandy Crème Anglaise

1cup cream
1/2 cup half and half
1/4 cup brandy
3/4 cup sugar, divided
4 egg yolks
1 tsp vanilla extract

In a stainless steel pot bring the cream, half and half, brandy, half of the sugar and to vanilla a simmer. While it is heating, combine the yolks and remaining sugar in a mixing bowl and whip until pale yellow in color.

Slowly begin adding the cream mixture into to yolks, stirring constantly until all the milk has cream mixture has been added. Pour the mixture back into the sauce pot and cook over a low-medium flame stirring constantly. Cook until the mixture becomes thick enough to coat a spoon or spatula.

Remove from the heat and cool down in an ice bath.
This sauce may be made two-three days in advance.

Yields : 8-10 servings