Pizza at the Crossroads

Photo from doctorhos humblepie.com

If you're ever south of Charlottesville on Highway 29, don't pass up that brightly white-lit shopping center at the corner of 29 and Plank Road in North Garden. Off at the end of the 29 North side you'll find Dr. Ho's Humble Pie. It's just about as humble as the rock group of the same name.

It's a pizzeria, yes, but has a full service menu and bar. One inside, you'll forget you are in a shopping center, with its walls of wood covered in posters, photos, Grateful Dead memorabilia, bumper stickers and you-name-it. The waitstaff are all heavily tattooed - at least all the women that were working there last night were. OK, let's not mince words: It looks like a dive.

But the food is definitely upscale. The soup of the day was leek, and the pizza special, which we ordered, came with roasted tomatoes, shaved country ham and fresh mozzarella on a delicious rustic crust, topped with a huge mound of baby arugula and big squares of Parmesan. The large size was more than enough to feed three hungry skiers and a friend, and we were so full that we couldn't possibly squeeze in one of the very enticing desserts listed on the chalkboard. The restaurant says it uses mostly ingredients from local providers and food artisans.

We'll be back!

Cajun without a cookbook

Growing up with a Cajun mother, you'd think I would have been eating gumbo, jambalaya, étouffée and blackened steak every night. But no. My mother was a wonderful cook, but my Polish father, with one exception, pretty much called the dinner shots. That one exception was steak night; my mother insisted that we have rice, not potatoes, when she cooked steak, and the au jus flavored the white long-grain rice.

So it wasn't until I latched onto a copy of Paul Prudhomme's "Louisiana Kitchen" that I began eating Cajun food regularly at home. Oh, it was great; finally I didn't have to wait to go to Polly's or some other little greasy spoon near Elton (my mother's hometown) to get my Cajun food fix.

But any cookbook should be a road map, not commandments chiseled in stone. Take my jambalaya last night. Prudhomme has a ham and sausage jambalaya, a rabbit (or chicken) jambalaya, a chicken and tasso jambalaya. They are all pretty good, but most of them call for some tomato sauce or canned tomatoes. That just exposes Prudhomme's New Orleans training; most Cajuns do not cook with tomatoes, most Creoles do.

Tasso isn't expensive in Louisiana; but in many other places, it's rare and dear. And that defeats the purpose of Cajun cooking: making what's available taste wonderful. Tasso, for those of you who aren't familiar with Louisiana ingredients, is a smoky seasoning meat not unlike ham.

What is available here in Virginia is ham chips. They are fairly smoky, very salty, and work well as seasoning. I also had a pack of chicken thighs from the last time I cut up a trio of chickens. Voilà! I could work with that.

Lori K's jambalaya with chicken thighs and Virginia ham chips

Ingredients

Seasoning mix

3 California bay leaves, broken in half

1 teaspoon white pepper

1 teaspoon dry mustard

1 teaspoon ground cayenne pepper

1 teaspoon ground sassafras leaves (filé)

1/2 teaspoon ground cumin

1/2 teaspoon ground thyme

1/4 teaspoon black pepper

4 tablespoons olive oil

10 ounces Virginia ham chips

6 chicken thighs (bone in)

1 1/2 cups chopped onion

1 cup finely diced celery

1 cup chopped bell peppers

2 large cloves garlic, minced

2 cups uncooked long-grain or basmati rice

4 cups chicken broth

1 teaspoon liquid smoke

Instructions

Combine seasoning mix ingredients in a small bowl and set aside.

In a large cast iron skillet, heat the oil until it begins to smoke; add chicken breasts and cook until browned on both sides. Turn down the heat a little and remove chicken pieces to a large ovenproof casserole. Preheat oven to 425 degrees.

Cook the ham until it sizzles and add the vegetables and seasoning mix, stir well and continue cooking until browned, about 10 minutes. Add the rice and cook another 5 minutes, scraping and stirring the mixture. Put the broth in a saucepan and bring to a boil. Put all the contents of the pan into the casserole with the chicken. Add the broth, and put in the oven. Cook for 45 minutes to an hour, until all the liquid is absorbed. Remove bay leaves and serve immediately.

A light country ham supper

Since coming to Virginia, I've been experimenting with country ham and what to do with it. Originally, tasting it on the ham biscuits (that seemed to pop up at all the parties we went to when we first got here), I thought it was similar to the jambon of Provence or prosciutto, but it's courser than the latter, and not quite as dry as the former. It's delicious, but not good to eat as is or by itself.

Last night, I prepared a couple of thin slices (did I mention it's extremely salty?) in the following manner:

Slice a large yam in half, then each half in quarters. Spray with olive oil, season lightly with salt and pepper, and roast at 425 degrees for 15-20 minutes until soft. 

Rinse ham briefly,  and fry to the recommended temperature of 160 degrees in a deep skillet. Remove, cover and keep warm. Add a tablespoon of olive oil to the pan (or if you have any drippings, enough olive oil to make a tablespoon). Sauté a large onion, sliced, and a clove of garlic, minced, with a few grinds of black pepper. Add a can of plain (not marinated) artichoke hearts, drained. Cook until the onions are golden and the artichokes are lightly browned on all sides. Serve with the ham to one side and the yams on the other.

All in all, as a meat, it makes an excellent seasoning (if you don't have to watch your salt intake too closely).