[sweet potato grits and deviled chicken thighs]

My name is Jennifer, and I am a cookbook junkie.  Recently our library underwent a complete cleaning, reorganization, and shelf-ification, and a few discoveries were made: Paul and I have duplicate copies of many things.  We don't have much in the science genre.  And I have approximately 250 cookbooks.  Cookbook collecting is definitely a habit for me, and reflects my evolution as a cook.  Consider the first cookbook I ever bought, The Enchanted Broccoli Forest, in 1991.  I had my first apartment at O.U., and though I wasn't a vegetarian, I was deathly afraid of poisoning myself by preparing meat improperly; thus began a long period of collecting vegetarian books.  Or my long-lived low-fat obsession, punctuated every Christmas with the latest Cooking Light yearbook. Thankfully, Cooking Light has lessened its low-fat strictures somewhat and is more about well-balanced eating, so I still follow it.  And in recent years, my focus has been Louisiana and Southern cooking, resulting in enough volumes to fill an entire shelf.  The latest purchase, Basic to Brilliant, Y'all, by Virginia Willis, is a great collection of Southern-based recipes with solid cooking techniques built in to each recipe (Willis is classically trained).  It joins the ranks of my favorite cookbooks that actually teach you how to change the recipes into something else, which is equivalent, in my mind, to a private cooking lesson (How To Cook Without a Book, The Art of Simple Food, and In the Kitchen with a Good Appetite are similar books).

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Mother's is a New Orleans institution, famous for long lines, great grits, and heavenly baked ham.  The first time I went there, I ordered a ham po-boy--the ham is what's touted on their sign, after all.  But maybe I shouldn't have gone for the ham the first time.  It's the most perfect ham sandwich in the world.  The problem is that I can't order anything else on the menu.  I'll try the jambalaya or red beans or grits that other people at my table order--and bless them for doing that--but I'm committed to the ham po-boy above all else.

This is it.  I know it doesn't look like much, but trust me, it is the holy grail of ham sandwiches.  The truth lies in the simplicity and honesty of the ingredients:  shaved baked ham, shredded cabbage, mayonnaise, Creole mustard, pickles, and fresh French bread.  The ham is slightly sweet, the cabbage has a PhD in crispness, and the mayo and mustard create a background chorus that Ray Charles would hire on the spot.  I know I'm hyperbolic, but do you know that I would never get hyperbolic unless I felt it was my duty?  Because I wouldn't, I promise you.

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