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The Best Cook in the World: Tales from My Momma's Southern Table: A Memoir and Cookbook
NEW YORK TIMES BESTSELLER • Part cookbook, part memoir, these “rollicking, poignant, sometimes hilarious tales” ( USA Today) are the Pulitzer Prize-winner’s loving tribute to the South, his family and, especially, to his extraordinary mother.
Here are irresistible stories and recipes from across generations. They come, skillet by skillet, from Bragg’s ancestors, from feasts and near famine, from funerals and celebrations, and from a thousand tales of family lore as rich and as sumptuous as the dishes they inspired. Deeply personal and unfailingly mouthwatering, The Best Cook in the World is a book to be savored.
Here are irresistible stories and recipes from across generations. They come, skillet by skillet, from Bragg’s ancestors, from feasts and near famine, from funerals and celebrations, and from a thousand tales of family lore as rich and as sumptuous as the dishes they inspired. Deeply personal and unfailingly mouthwatering, The Best Cook in the World is a book to be savored.
560 pages, Paperback
First published April 24, 2018
900 people are currently reading
5989 people want to read
About the author
Rick Bragg
46 books1,292 followersRick Bragg is the Pulitzer Prize winning writer of best-selling and critically acclaimed books on the people of the foothills of the Appalachians, All Over but the Shoutin, Ava's Man, and The Prince of Frogtown.
Bragg, a native of Calhoun County, Alabama, calls these books the proudest examples of his writing life, what historians and critics have described as heart-breaking anthems of people usually written about only in fiction or cliches. They chronicle the lives of his family cotton pickers, mill workers, whiskey makers, long sufferers, and fist fighters. Bragg, who has written for the numerous magazines, ranging from Sports Illustrated to Food & Wine, was a newspaper writer for two decades, covering high school football for the Jacksonville News, and militant Islamic fundamentalism for The New York Times.
He has won more than 50 significant writing awards, in books and journalism, including, twice, the American Society of Newspaper Editors Distinguished Writing Award. He was a Nieman Fellow at Harvard University in 1993, and is, truthfully, still a freshman at Jacksonville State University. Bragg is currently Professor of Writing in the Journalism Department at the University of Alabama, and lives in Tuscaloosa with his wife, Dianne, a doctoral student there, and his stepson, Jake. His only real hobby is fishing, but he is the worst fisherman in his family line.
Bragg, a native of Calhoun County, Alabama, calls these books the proudest examples of his writing life, what historians and critics have described as heart-breaking anthems of people usually written about only in fiction or cliches. They chronicle the lives of his family cotton pickers, mill workers, whiskey makers, long sufferers, and fist fighters. Bragg, who has written for the numerous magazines, ranging from Sports Illustrated to Food & Wine, was a newspaper writer for two decades, covering high school football for the Jacksonville News, and militant Islamic fundamentalism for The New York Times.
He has won more than 50 significant writing awards, in books and journalism, including, twice, the American Society of Newspaper Editors Distinguished Writing Award. He was a Nieman Fellow at Harvard University in 1993, and is, truthfully, still a freshman at Jacksonville State University. Bragg is currently Professor of Writing in the Journalism Department at the University of Alabama, and lives in Tuscaloosa with his wife, Dianne, a doctoral student there, and his stepson, Jake. His only real hobby is fishing, but he is the worst fisherman in his family line.
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 543 reviews
April 29, 2018
”It's funny how it's the little things in life that mean the most
Not where you live, what you drive or the price tag on your clothes
There's no dollar sign on a piece of mind this I've come to know
So if you agree have a drink with me
Raise you glasses for a toast
To a little bit of chicken fried
“And cold beer on a Friday night
A pair of jeans that fit just right
And the radio up
I like to see the sunrise
See the love in my woman's eyes
Feel the touch of a precious child
And know a mother's love”
--Chicken Fried, Zac Brown Band, Songwriters: Wyatt Durrette / Zac Brown
Not quite two years ago, I read Bragg’s All Over But the Shoutin’ and last year I followed that up with his Ava’s Man, and loved both of those memoirs. I do still plan to read The Prince of Frogtown but I managed to be first in line for this one from my library, so I read it while I had the chance.
To think of this as a cookbook would be less than accurate, although it does contain many recipes, this is a memoir told through stories that convey the joy and hardships that this rather extended family goes through. Maybe joy isn’t really enough, since some of their adventures are side-splittingly entertaining, and some are touching, and some reminded me of stories my father told me. Still, just as in life, food is always better when surrounded by family and friends and those stories that live on from one generation to the next.
And that’s what these recipes are, surrounded by stories, included in stories, sometimes it’s hard to tell whether the recipes are injected into the stories or the stories are told to better understand their place in family lore. Food can be prepared as a gesture of love, or given as a prize awarded for a task well done, it can be partaken of in simple, utilitarian need and the object of delight, and it can be a reminder of other times, and other people. In darker times, when need overwhelmed their cupboards, there are stories of men fishing for river catfish with their bare hands, what they called “noodling,” follow. And what a picture that must have been.
Living in a time and in areas mostly undisturbed by “progress,” these recipes don’t have any calories assigned to them. Chances are if you need to know, then you might want to look elsewhere if you’re just looking for recipes. Most of the recipes included won’t be found in any “heart-healthy” sections, there’s a lot of bacon grease, and Crisco, cracklin’ meat, grease… but then most of these recipes got their start years before any of us were born, some are from Civil War era, and others from around the time of the Great Depression. Poverty abounded then and there, but poverty is still more than abundant in plenty of places on this planet. Reading this is truly more about the association of memories with the food we were served by our family, that we prepared and cooked with our families through the years, and how those memories are shaped by that food, and as years pass, that food is also shaped by those memories.
I loved this, not as much for each recipe, but Margaret Bragg, the author’s mother, cooks the way my father and my grandmother cooked, all from memory, by weight and feel and a smidgen of this and a dash of that. It felt like being in my grandmother’s tiny kitchen making bread beside her. She knew when a thing was done by the look or the smell. Bragg made me feel as I was there, if not a part of the family, then a warmly welcomed guest.
Don’t make the mistake of not reading the recipes, skip over the ingredients if you must, but there are some lovely gems of wisdom and love in the sharing of those stories, even some having to do with cooking.
”Use brown eggs when you can get ’em,” she warns. “They’re more like real eggs.”
Rick Bragg shares his love of his family, quirks and all, their stories, and his mother’s recipes from fried chicken to roasted possum to pecan pie. There’s a sense of love in his amusement, pride in these stories of generations, reverence to a way of life and love.
Recommended
Many thanks, once again, to the Public Library system, and the many Librarians that manage, organize and keep it running, for the loan of this book!
Not where you live, what you drive or the price tag on your clothes
There's no dollar sign on a piece of mind this I've come to know
So if you agree have a drink with me
Raise you glasses for a toast
To a little bit of chicken fried
“And cold beer on a Friday night
A pair of jeans that fit just right
And the radio up
I like to see the sunrise
See the love in my woman's eyes
Feel the touch of a precious child
And know a mother's love”
--Chicken Fried, Zac Brown Band, Songwriters: Wyatt Durrette / Zac Brown
Not quite two years ago, I read Bragg’s All Over But the Shoutin’ and last year I followed that up with his Ava’s Man, and loved both of those memoirs. I do still plan to read The Prince of Frogtown but I managed to be first in line for this one from my library, so I read it while I had the chance.
To think of this as a cookbook would be less than accurate, although it does contain many recipes, this is a memoir told through stories that convey the joy and hardships that this rather extended family goes through. Maybe joy isn’t really enough, since some of their adventures are side-splittingly entertaining, and some are touching, and some reminded me of stories my father told me. Still, just as in life, food is always better when surrounded by family and friends and those stories that live on from one generation to the next.
And that’s what these recipes are, surrounded by stories, included in stories, sometimes it’s hard to tell whether the recipes are injected into the stories or the stories are told to better understand their place in family lore. Food can be prepared as a gesture of love, or given as a prize awarded for a task well done, it can be partaken of in simple, utilitarian need and the object of delight, and it can be a reminder of other times, and other people. In darker times, when need overwhelmed their cupboards, there are stories of men fishing for river catfish with their bare hands, what they called “noodling,” follow. And what a picture that must have been.
Living in a time and in areas mostly undisturbed by “progress,” these recipes don’t have any calories assigned to them. Chances are if you need to know, then you might want to look elsewhere if you’re just looking for recipes. Most of the recipes included won’t be found in any “heart-healthy” sections, there’s a lot of bacon grease, and Crisco, cracklin’ meat, grease… but then most of these recipes got their start years before any of us were born, some are from Civil War era, and others from around the time of the Great Depression. Poverty abounded then and there, but poverty is still more than abundant in plenty of places on this planet. Reading this is truly more about the association of memories with the food we were served by our family, that we prepared and cooked with our families through the years, and how those memories are shaped by that food, and as years pass, that food is also shaped by those memories.
I loved this, not as much for each recipe, but Margaret Bragg, the author’s mother, cooks the way my father and my grandmother cooked, all from memory, by weight and feel and a smidgen of this and a dash of that. It felt like being in my grandmother’s tiny kitchen making bread beside her. She knew when a thing was done by the look or the smell. Bragg made me feel as I was there, if not a part of the family, then a warmly welcomed guest.
Don’t make the mistake of not reading the recipes, skip over the ingredients if you must, but there are some lovely gems of wisdom and love in the sharing of those stories, even some having to do with cooking.
”Use brown eggs when you can get ’em,” she warns. “They’re more like real eggs.”
Rick Bragg shares his love of his family, quirks and all, their stories, and his mother’s recipes from fried chicken to roasted possum to pecan pie. There’s a sense of love in his amusement, pride in these stories of generations, reverence to a way of life and love.
Recommended
Many thanks, once again, to the Public Library system, and the many Librarians that manage, organize and keep it running, for the loan of this book!
May 12, 2018
I don't know when I have ever enjoyed a book more. Just sheer pleasure every time I opened the covers. I read this one as my "bedtime book" for a couple of weeks and looked forward to the hour or so spent with Rick Bragg's people, as he likes to call them.
Of course, it was a no-brainer that I would love it. It combines memoir with food and recipes, Rick Bragg's wonderful prose and humor, great people, past and present, and family pictures. His family is a large cussin', fightin', drinkin', God-fearin', cookin', eatin', hell-raising bunch of southerners, and he loves them all with a fierceness we don't usually see in memoirs. No traumatizing dysfunctional excuse for unhappiness here; he loves these people and all their craziness, and portrays them with gentleness and humor.
And the recipes! This is the way my family cooked and ate, back before food was something to be feared and regulated. There is lard and butter and bacon grease galore, because those things elevate plain country food to manna from heaven. When food was to fill your belly and give you a little pleasure two or three times a day, in between working and trying to pay the rent. Most of us don't eat that way anymore, but then most of us don't work that hard anymore either. I miss those days, but it was nice to relive them in these pages.
And it was nice to get to know Grandma Ava, Grandpa Charlie, all the aunts and uncles, with a special shout-out to Aunt Juanita, my kind of woman. And of course, Mama. These are her recipes, never written down, but handed down through the years. There is even a recipe here for possum, which Mama hates and won't eat, but Aunt Juanita claims it cured her stomach ulcers years ago, after she ate a whole possum all by herself.
I did love this book and these people, and this goes on my favorite shelf. My only mistake here was getting this from the library. Taking it back will be a little like turning the whole family into Social Services. I'll have to buy a copy now, put it on my shelf, and give this family a permanent home.
Of course, it was a no-brainer that I would love it. It combines memoir with food and recipes, Rick Bragg's wonderful prose and humor, great people, past and present, and family pictures. His family is a large cussin', fightin', drinkin', God-fearin', cookin', eatin', hell-raising bunch of southerners, and he loves them all with a fierceness we don't usually see in memoirs. No traumatizing dysfunctional excuse for unhappiness here; he loves these people and all their craziness, and portrays them with gentleness and humor.
And the recipes! This is the way my family cooked and ate, back before food was something to be feared and regulated. There is lard and butter and bacon grease galore, because those things elevate plain country food to manna from heaven. When food was to fill your belly and give you a little pleasure two or three times a day, in between working and trying to pay the rent. Most of us don't eat that way anymore, but then most of us don't work that hard anymore either. I miss those days, but it was nice to relive them in these pages.
And it was nice to get to know Grandma Ava, Grandpa Charlie, all the aunts and uncles, with a special shout-out to Aunt Juanita, my kind of woman. And of course, Mama. These are her recipes, never written down, but handed down through the years. There is even a recipe here for possum, which Mama hates and won't eat, but Aunt Juanita claims it cured her stomach ulcers years ago, after she ate a whole possum all by herself.
I did love this book and these people, and this goes on my favorite shelf. My only mistake here was getting this from the library. Taking it back will be a little like turning the whole family into Social Services. I'll have to buy a copy now, put it on my shelf, and give this family a permanent home.
October 13, 2018
This book was an absolute delight. Rick Bragg writes lovingly about his mother and her southern cooking and shares amazing stories about his wackadoo family.
I listened to this book on audio, read by Bragg himself, and I highly recommend it. He has a charming narration and I found the book positively soothing. This was the first Bragg book I've read, but I loved it so much I've already requested his other works from the library.
Highly recommended for readers who like foodie memoirs or tales of southern life.
Opening Passage
"Since she was eleven years old, even if all she had to work with was neck bones, peppergrass, or poke salad, she put good food on a plate. She cooked for dead-broke uncles, hungover brothers, shade-tree mechanics, faith healers, dice shooters, hairdressers, pipe fitters, crop dusters, high-steel walkers, and well diggers. She cooked for ironworkers, Avon ladies, highway patrolman, sweatshop seamstresses, fortune-tellers, coal haulers, dirt-track daredevils, and dime-store girls. She cooked for lost souls stumbling home from Aunt Hattie's beer joint, and for singing cowboys on the AM radio. She cooked, in her first eighty years, more than seventy thousand meals, as basic as hot buttered biscuits with pear preserves or muscadine jelly, as exotic as tender braised beef tripe in white milk gravy, in kitchens where the only ventilation was the banging of the screen door. She cooked for people she'd just as soon have poisoned, and for the loves of her life."
I listened to this book on audio, read by Bragg himself, and I highly recommend it. He has a charming narration and I found the book positively soothing. This was the first Bragg book I've read, but I loved it so much I've already requested his other works from the library.
Highly recommended for readers who like foodie memoirs or tales of southern life.
Opening Passage
"Since she was eleven years old, even if all she had to work with was neck bones, peppergrass, or poke salad, she put good food on a plate. She cooked for dead-broke uncles, hungover brothers, shade-tree mechanics, faith healers, dice shooters, hairdressers, pipe fitters, crop dusters, high-steel walkers, and well diggers. She cooked for ironworkers, Avon ladies, highway patrolman, sweatshop seamstresses, fortune-tellers, coal haulers, dirt-track daredevils, and dime-store girls. She cooked for lost souls stumbling home from Aunt Hattie's beer joint, and for singing cowboys on the AM radio. She cooked, in her first eighty years, more than seventy thousand meals, as basic as hot buttered biscuits with pear preserves or muscadine jelly, as exotic as tender braised beef tripe in white milk gravy, in kitchens where the only ventilation was the banging of the screen door. She cooked for people she'd just as soon have poisoned, and for the loves of her life."
August 28, 2020
What a beautiful book. The Best Cook in the World: Tales from My Momma's Table was a loving tribute, not only to his mother Margaret, but to his grandmother Ava, and related in the warm, all-embracing and endearing way that only Rick Bragg can accomplish in describing all of the rich and colorful heritage of his family passed on for generations; perhaps the first farm to table harvest in the heart of Appalachia, some recipes even predating the Civil War. You just have to understand a dab, a pinch. This tugged at my heart as I remember being so enamored as I spent summers with my grandparents, helping my grandfather in his beautiful and bountiful garden each day. Another highlight of my day was helping my grandmother prepare amazing meals from my grandfather's bounty with special old family recipes from the "old country." There are many delicious recipes that may warrant a try.
"Let your speech be always with grace, seasoned with salt, that ye may know how ye ought to answer every man." -- COLOSSIANS 4:6
"But since that day in her cold kitchen, I knew I had to convince her to let me write it all down, to capture not just the legend but the soul of her cooking for the generations to come, and translate into the twenty-first century the recipes that exit only in her mind, before we all blow away like the dust in that red field."
"These recipes and stories come, one by one, from the beautiful, haunted landscape itself, from inside the lunchboxes of men who worked deep in the earth and out in the searing sun, from homemade houseboats in the middle channels of slow rivers, or in the dark high places as we chased the beautiful sound of our dogs through the hills and pines."
"They ate tomato sandwiches on white bread, with mayonnaise, salt, and pepper (this, with a cold glass of milk and a few potato chips, remains my favorite simple summer lunch). They sliced platters of them to eat with everything."
"Let your speech be always with grace, seasoned with salt, that ye may know how ye ought to answer every man." -- COLOSSIANS 4:6
"But since that day in her cold kitchen, I knew I had to convince her to let me write it all down, to capture not just the legend but the soul of her cooking for the generations to come, and translate into the twenty-first century the recipes that exit only in her mind, before we all blow away like the dust in that red field."
"These recipes and stories come, one by one, from the beautiful, haunted landscape itself, from inside the lunchboxes of men who worked deep in the earth and out in the searing sun, from homemade houseboats in the middle channels of slow rivers, or in the dark high places as we chased the beautiful sound of our dogs through the hills and pines."
"They ate tomato sandwiches on white bread, with mayonnaise, salt, and pepper (this, with a cold glass of milk and a few potato chips, remains my favorite simple summer lunch). They sliced platters of them to eat with everything."
May 7, 2022
An Author and a Sister to Bragg About
What a fun read. While Rick Bragg shared his mother’s recipes, he also had many stories to tell, not just stories about his mother, but about other people as well. Some were laugh out loud funny, but so were the recipes, not that they were not real recipes, but you won’t catch me making any of them. In other words, she was not the best cook in the world or even the county where she lived, well, maybe she was, as some people love country cooking. Maybe it should really be called, back woods cooking.
What is back wood cooking? To me it means making poke salad. He will ALMOST tell you how to cook poke salad, yes, cook. Poke is poisonous, so I, personally, would never try to cook it. He claims that it is also nutritious, but once it has been boiled and re-boiled a few times, and squeezed to death, I think the vitamins and minerals went down the drain in the sink. And as far as I am concerned, you can throw the poke down it as well. We have it growing here, so I just cut it down and throw it in a compost pile.
She also makes crackling cornbread, which could be good. I believe crackling meat is pork fat, and Alexa thinks so too. You cut it into 2-inch cubes, fry it until the cubes are golden in color and add the cubes to the cornbread recipe. Yum. You won’t need butter on it as the fat is enough. Then I think you use the left over fat to fry other foods. I think it is then called, lard. And these days, lard is in vogue. I bought a small jar of it to cook with, and when it came in the mail, I realized that I had paid $28 for a small amount of lard. I mean $28 for 14 oz. of pig fat, organic. Never again. The lard at the grocery store was cheap, but it was partially hydrogenated. Not good.
His stories are hard to reproduce here as there is no plot to this book, just laugh out loud stories. Example: A woman shoots her abusive husband. Well, that doesn’t sound funny, but it was. And I don’t know how this story has anything to do with food, except that his false teeth were destroyed in the process, so he would have to gum his food. See, I kind of ruined that story, so I can’t tell you anymore, instead, what I am going to do is tell my own stories, and kind of mix his mom’s recipes with my own:
One of his mother’s recipes is Sweet Potato Cobbler. What? No way! Cobbler is all about berries or peaches. It is not about food that you dig up from the ground. I have a delicious recipe for Sweet Potato Pie, which crust is an acceptable one. It has a Chantilly Cream Topping, as in alcohol in the whipped cream, real whipping cream, not fake. Other than this recipe of mine, sweet potatoes should only be served with real butter on top. And I have just learned that the skin is delicious as well. To think that I used to give the skin to our dog.
Bragg’s mom also made Potato Salad as well. Her recipe didn’t sound good, and I must say, I can tell what a recipe will taste like just by reading its ingredients. This ability comes with age. While I will never claim that my mom was the best cook, I will make the claim that her potato salad and her macaroni salad were the best I have ever had. And so was her pot roast. I have tried to make these dishes, but I could never get either right. She used Miracle Whip in her salad, and I always use mayonnaise, which could be the problem, and I have never tried to correct this habit. Plus, she never measured anything. I wrote down her recipe one day, but I had to guess at it. As a result, I could never get the recipe correct. I could never get the pot roast right either, and I had the amounts of the ingredients correct, as in one box of onion soup mix. My husband does all the cooking, and he used her pot roast recipe and it is as good as hers. Go figure. I nominate him as the best cook in the world because, well, he is. He takes any recipe he finds and makes it better. Did I tell you that he used to be a cook at Rose’s Landing in Morro Bay, CA? (He thinks that that was the name of the restaurant.) But he was not a chef, just that it is in his DNA. Well, I digressed. Anyway, these were the only two dishes that I loved that my mom made, and she didn’t begin making them until she remarried when I was maybe 16. I don’t recall what she made when I was younger than 8. At least she was great at making sweets, i.e. cookies and cakes.
Just after my mom’s divorce, we had the worst cook preparing our meals. I thought it was Mom that fed us horrible meals that I will tell you about shortly. Then when I asked my older sister, Jeanette, to help me in remembering these meals, she said that she made dinner for us, and she didn’t know how to cook. Mom never taught any of us girls how to cook.
You see, Jeanette told our mom that she would quit high school and take care of us if Mom left our dad. She was 15 or so, had finished her sophomore year. She did this so Mom could go to work in order to take care of us financially. It was good that Jeanette had made friends in high school, friends that remained in her life for all these years. If she had not had these friends, she would have gone crazy with the three of us--a brother, me, and a little baby sister. Well, as she said, she could not cook. Here is what she fed us:
Hot dogs and Pork ‘n Beans in a can, hot dogs in sauerkraut, SpaghettiOs, fried hash patties from a can, liver with mashed potatoes and canned peas on the side. Creamed tuna or something else (She claims it was always hash.) on toast, canned tamales, hamburger patties, Potato Cakes made by mixing mashed potatoes with flour and eggs, then made into patties and fried. And I remember those Gawd awful black-eyed peas. You name it, if it came out of a can, she could cook it. But she knew how to fry liver. Yuck! Well, she also made chocolate chip cookies, which we all loved. She would make hers large, and I would feel cheated, not realizing that I could grab two and they would then be equal to her large one. And don’t let me forget to tell you about our taffy pulls and other homemade candy.
So, when Mom remarried, we were done with Jeanette’s cooking, but then she had married and left us anyway. Still, I and my other siblings will always praise her for quitting school and taking care of us, which allowed us all to get away from a bad situation.
I learned over three months ago that canned tamales still taste good, not great, but good. But I never could learn to like liver. I used to hide it in a napkin when Jeanette served it to us. Then I would go to the bathroom and flush it down the toilet. Or I would throw it under the table for my dog who thought it was delicious. I even tried to mix it in the potatoes, but it only made the potatoes taste funny. Scattering it on the plate to make it look like I had eaten most of it didn’t work well either. I mostly had to eat it.
Yet, how come she knew how to cook liver, when everything else was in cans?
Here is a tidbit that I want to add before I forget. When my husband and I were in Puerto Rico we ate at a wonderful restaurant in Luquillo. (I think I have the town correct.) We tried many restaurants in the area, but we did not like the food. Well, this restaurant had the best hamburgers, so we ate there often, always buying the hamburgers. No one would tell us what made them taste great. When I came home, I met a woman who used to live in Puerto Rico, and we became friends. She suggested I put Sazon spice on the hamburgers. So, I found it on Amazon, and now my husband makes the best hamburgers in the world, just like those in Luquillo Beach.
Here’s an anecdote about my mom. Every time any of us kids came to visit her in later years, she would always serve her macaroni salad. One year when we all came to visit, one of us said, “where’s the macaroni salad?” She flatly stated, “I didn’t feel like making it.” Wow! What a blow! She had had just finished reading Wayne Dyer’s “Pulling Your Own Strings.” We all hate Wayne Dyer now.
And last of all. My mom made great cakes but always from a cake mix and always with a tablespoon of oil added to the mix to make it moist. I loved her broiled topping cake, pineapple upside down, and spice cakes, but best of all were her chocolate cake with chocolate frosting. Sometimes, she would add black walnuts on top, and this really made it delicious. All of us kids were sitting around the table, and Jerry, our brother from her second marriage, brought out her chocolate cake. While we were eating it, he said, “I just realized that this is her last cake.” We all stopped eating and became silent.
What a fun read. While Rick Bragg shared his mother’s recipes, he also had many stories to tell, not just stories about his mother, but about other people as well. Some were laugh out loud funny, but so were the recipes, not that they were not real recipes, but you won’t catch me making any of them. In other words, she was not the best cook in the world or even the county where she lived, well, maybe she was, as some people love country cooking. Maybe it should really be called, back woods cooking.
What is back wood cooking? To me it means making poke salad. He will ALMOST tell you how to cook poke salad, yes, cook. Poke is poisonous, so I, personally, would never try to cook it. He claims that it is also nutritious, but once it has been boiled and re-boiled a few times, and squeezed to death, I think the vitamins and minerals went down the drain in the sink. And as far as I am concerned, you can throw the poke down it as well. We have it growing here, so I just cut it down and throw it in a compost pile.
She also makes crackling cornbread, which could be good. I believe crackling meat is pork fat, and Alexa thinks so too. You cut it into 2-inch cubes, fry it until the cubes are golden in color and add the cubes to the cornbread recipe. Yum. You won’t need butter on it as the fat is enough. Then I think you use the left over fat to fry other foods. I think it is then called, lard. And these days, lard is in vogue. I bought a small jar of it to cook with, and when it came in the mail, I realized that I had paid $28 for a small amount of lard. I mean $28 for 14 oz. of pig fat, organic. Never again. The lard at the grocery store was cheap, but it was partially hydrogenated. Not good.
His stories are hard to reproduce here as there is no plot to this book, just laugh out loud stories. Example: A woman shoots her abusive husband. Well, that doesn’t sound funny, but it was. And I don’t know how this story has anything to do with food, except that his false teeth were destroyed in the process, so he would have to gum his food. See, I kind of ruined that story, so I can’t tell you anymore, instead, what I am going to do is tell my own stories, and kind of mix his mom’s recipes with my own:
One of his mother’s recipes is Sweet Potato Cobbler. What? No way! Cobbler is all about berries or peaches. It is not about food that you dig up from the ground. I have a delicious recipe for Sweet Potato Pie, which crust is an acceptable one. It has a Chantilly Cream Topping, as in alcohol in the whipped cream, real whipping cream, not fake. Other than this recipe of mine, sweet potatoes should only be served with real butter on top. And I have just learned that the skin is delicious as well. To think that I used to give the skin to our dog.
Bragg’s mom also made Potato Salad as well. Her recipe didn’t sound good, and I must say, I can tell what a recipe will taste like just by reading its ingredients. This ability comes with age. While I will never claim that my mom was the best cook, I will make the claim that her potato salad and her macaroni salad were the best I have ever had. And so was her pot roast. I have tried to make these dishes, but I could never get either right. She used Miracle Whip in her salad, and I always use mayonnaise, which could be the problem, and I have never tried to correct this habit. Plus, she never measured anything. I wrote down her recipe one day, but I had to guess at it. As a result, I could never get the recipe correct. I could never get the pot roast right either, and I had the amounts of the ingredients correct, as in one box of onion soup mix. My husband does all the cooking, and he used her pot roast recipe and it is as good as hers. Go figure. I nominate him as the best cook in the world because, well, he is. He takes any recipe he finds and makes it better. Did I tell you that he used to be a cook at Rose’s Landing in Morro Bay, CA? (He thinks that that was the name of the restaurant.) But he was not a chef, just that it is in his DNA. Well, I digressed. Anyway, these were the only two dishes that I loved that my mom made, and she didn’t begin making them until she remarried when I was maybe 16. I don’t recall what she made when I was younger than 8. At least she was great at making sweets, i.e. cookies and cakes.
Just after my mom’s divorce, we had the worst cook preparing our meals. I thought it was Mom that fed us horrible meals that I will tell you about shortly. Then when I asked my older sister, Jeanette, to help me in remembering these meals, she said that she made dinner for us, and she didn’t know how to cook. Mom never taught any of us girls how to cook.
You see, Jeanette told our mom that she would quit high school and take care of us if Mom left our dad. She was 15 or so, had finished her sophomore year. She did this so Mom could go to work in order to take care of us financially. It was good that Jeanette had made friends in high school, friends that remained in her life for all these years. If she had not had these friends, she would have gone crazy with the three of us--a brother, me, and a little baby sister. Well, as she said, she could not cook. Here is what she fed us:
Hot dogs and Pork ‘n Beans in a can, hot dogs in sauerkraut, SpaghettiOs, fried hash patties from a can, liver with mashed potatoes and canned peas on the side. Creamed tuna or something else (She claims it was always hash.) on toast, canned tamales, hamburger patties, Potato Cakes made by mixing mashed potatoes with flour and eggs, then made into patties and fried. And I remember those Gawd awful black-eyed peas. You name it, if it came out of a can, she could cook it. But she knew how to fry liver. Yuck! Well, she also made chocolate chip cookies, which we all loved. She would make hers large, and I would feel cheated, not realizing that I could grab two and they would then be equal to her large one. And don’t let me forget to tell you about our taffy pulls and other homemade candy.
So, when Mom remarried, we were done with Jeanette’s cooking, but then she had married and left us anyway. Still, I and my other siblings will always praise her for quitting school and taking care of us, which allowed us all to get away from a bad situation.
I learned over three months ago that canned tamales still taste good, not great, but good. But I never could learn to like liver. I used to hide it in a napkin when Jeanette served it to us. Then I would go to the bathroom and flush it down the toilet. Or I would throw it under the table for my dog who thought it was delicious. I even tried to mix it in the potatoes, but it only made the potatoes taste funny. Scattering it on the plate to make it look like I had eaten most of it didn’t work well either. I mostly had to eat it.
Yet, how come she knew how to cook liver, when everything else was in cans?
Here is a tidbit that I want to add before I forget. When my husband and I were in Puerto Rico we ate at a wonderful restaurant in Luquillo. (I think I have the town correct.) We tried many restaurants in the area, but we did not like the food. Well, this restaurant had the best hamburgers, so we ate there often, always buying the hamburgers. No one would tell us what made them taste great. When I came home, I met a woman who used to live in Puerto Rico, and we became friends. She suggested I put Sazon spice on the hamburgers. So, I found it on Amazon, and now my husband makes the best hamburgers in the world, just like those in Luquillo Beach.
Here’s an anecdote about my mom. Every time any of us kids came to visit her in later years, she would always serve her macaroni salad. One year when we all came to visit, one of us said, “where’s the macaroni salad?” She flatly stated, “I didn’t feel like making it.” Wow! What a blow! She had had just finished reading Wayne Dyer’s “Pulling Your Own Strings.” We all hate Wayne Dyer now.
And last of all. My mom made great cakes but always from a cake mix and always with a tablespoon of oil added to the mix to make it moist. I loved her broiled topping cake, pineapple upside down, and spice cakes, but best of all were her chocolate cake with chocolate frosting. Sometimes, she would add black walnuts on top, and this really made it delicious. All of us kids were sitting around the table, and Jerry, our brother from her second marriage, brought out her chocolate cake. While we were eating it, he said, “I just realized that this is her last cake.” We all stopped eating and became silent.
December 8, 2018
This book is more than just a memoir, more than a cookbook. It is about a family who have shared their secrets to feeding a lot of people on a nickle, who have passed down traditions along with their cooking, who took care of one another (even if they didn't like each other much sometimes), and who even shared a precious cast iron skillet at one time or another.
Wanting to preserve the amazing dishes, Rick Bragg decides to try to get it all down on paper before it's lost. This is not an easy task as Margaret Bragg does not own a cookbook, does not measure any ingredients, and does it the way she, and generations before her, were taught. You know, a tad, a smidgen, and "just enough". She doesn't time anything in the oven - "yer nose will tell ya when it's done". She is correct.
The book goes back through generations of what I can only call characters and the book is humorous at times. Everything from the man who ran away to live on his own in the woods, to his being begged to come back and teach a new wife to cook before her husband starved (the begging was by the husband who was so thin at this point he was ready to disappear). He succeeds in bringing him back, and there is no love found between the man and his son's new wife. In fact, they almost downright hate each other for a while. Their story alone makes this a worthwhile read. Will the wife shoot the old man? Will the husband wither away and die from her bad cooking? Will the law find the old man and finally take him in?
Some of the recipes won't fly so well in today's world, although there are people (even some I know) who have cooked raccoon and squirrels. In this book, it's a matter of survival.
I loved the book. It's a keeper to be enjoyed again.
Wanting to preserve the amazing dishes, Rick Bragg decides to try to get it all down on paper before it's lost. This is not an easy task as Margaret Bragg does not own a cookbook, does not measure any ingredients, and does it the way she, and generations before her, were taught. You know, a tad, a smidgen, and "just enough". She doesn't time anything in the oven - "yer nose will tell ya when it's done". She is correct.
The book goes back through generations of what I can only call characters and the book is humorous at times. Everything from the man who ran away to live on his own in the woods, to his being begged to come back and teach a new wife to cook before her husband starved (the begging was by the husband who was so thin at this point he was ready to disappear). He succeeds in bringing him back, and there is no love found between the man and his son's new wife. In fact, they almost downright hate each other for a while. Their story alone makes this a worthwhile read. Will the wife shoot the old man? Will the husband wither away and die from her bad cooking? Will the law find the old man and finally take him in?
Some of the recipes won't fly so well in today's world, although there are people (even some I know) who have cooked raccoon and squirrels. In this book, it's a matter of survival.
I loved the book. It's a keeper to be enjoyed again.
June 26, 2018
Finished this with some difficulty because it was too long. I'd recommend that it be read over a short period of time. If it would have been 200 pages shorter it would have had more power. That being said it was an interesting read mixing family stories and simple classic southern recipes.
February 26, 2018
I have put off writing a review of this book, because I have found it hard to find the right words. To say I loved it just does not portray the feelings I have for this memory of family and food. Except for a few regional differences, these are the recipes of my North Carolina family, and these are their experiences. Every photographs, with so many appearing to be made in those old carnival photo booths, touched my heart.
I cried over turtle stews as I recalled my uncle once a year firing up the pit in a field behind our house, and all those long gone men passing the jar and waiting for their bowls. I remembered my grandma packing her brown paper bag and threatening to go back to live at the old house, if my grandpa didn't go over and get her woodstove and get shed of that new electric stove.
There are few books that a reader can live in, but this is one. Especially, if you are a Southerner of textile or tenant farming descent, don't miss this one. Thank you, thank you, Rick Bragg.
I cried over turtle stews as I recalled my uncle once a year firing up the pit in a field behind our house, and all those long gone men passing the jar and waiting for their bowls. I remembered my grandma packing her brown paper bag and threatening to go back to live at the old house, if my grandpa didn't go over and get her woodstove and get shed of that new electric stove.
There are few books that a reader can live in, but this is one. Especially, if you are a Southerner of textile or tenant farming descent, don't miss this one. Thank you, thank you, Rick Bragg.
September 13, 2022
Review originally published March 2021
A pretty big statement by Rick Bragg regarding his mother Margaret: His Mamma, “who does not own a single cookbook" and measures in "dabs" and "smidgens" and "tads" and "you know, hon, just some," never wrote any of her classic dishes down.
Rick, being quite a storyteller, embarked on this work. His book is heartfelt, filled with hilarious stories from an Alabama kitchen that will have you laughing out loud.
Feeling a little like the family album, Bragg opens each chapter with a black and white family photo and a title that offers a clue to the story behind the recipe. These photos help to visualize the cast of characters Margaret cooked for or learned from.
As you read this charming collection of tales and sass, you will agree his family recipes are more than an outline of a family classic, but a way to connect with the Bragg family history. Reading this book causes the reader to pause and piece together the times with family or friends that the food made and eaten, color in our memories to keep family ties strong.
These recipes may be something that cooks would like to try their hand at some Southern soulful cooking. It could also spur a plan to start passing on the “family recipes” at the next reunion.
Find this book and other titles within our catalog.
A pretty big statement by Rick Bragg regarding his mother Margaret: His Mamma, “who does not own a single cookbook" and measures in "dabs" and "smidgens" and "tads" and "you know, hon, just some," never wrote any of her classic dishes down.
Rick, being quite a storyteller, embarked on this work. His book is heartfelt, filled with hilarious stories from an Alabama kitchen that will have you laughing out loud.
Feeling a little like the family album, Bragg opens each chapter with a black and white family photo and a title that offers a clue to the story behind the recipe. These photos help to visualize the cast of characters Margaret cooked for or learned from.
As you read this charming collection of tales and sass, you will agree his family recipes are more than an outline of a family classic, but a way to connect with the Bragg family history. Reading this book causes the reader to pause and piece together the times with family or friends that the food made and eaten, color in our memories to keep family ties strong.
These recipes may be something that cooks would like to try their hand at some Southern soulful cooking. It could also spur a plan to start passing on the “family recipes” at the next reunion.
Find this book and other titles within our catalog.
March 3, 2021
“Good stuff always has a story ... Margaret Bragg”
Great Food and Incredible Story Telling ~ it doesn’t get much better than that!! And let me tell you, I gained 10lbs while listening to Rick Bragg recite wonderful old family recipes and accompanying them with stories that could make your hair curl!!
“There’s a recipe for coconut cake, we believe tumbled down from God”.
The pan roasted ‘pigs feet’ I could do without. I will spare you the details.
The fork-lore is a rich part of our heritage if you’re a descendant of ‘the south’. I’m thankful to claim the right.
The faith was deeply felt at the same time use of words, I shall not repeat, flew from mouths to colorful for your imagination.
This novel was delightful to me! ....
“You learn by tasting, feeling n smelling, listening and remembering, and burning things now and then”.
I say, Amen!
Great Food and Incredible Story Telling ~ it doesn’t get much better than that!! And let me tell you, I gained 10lbs while listening to Rick Bragg recite wonderful old family recipes and accompanying them with stories that could make your hair curl!!
“There’s a recipe for coconut cake, we believe tumbled down from God”.
The pan roasted ‘pigs feet’ I could do without. I will spare you the details.
The fork-lore is a rich part of our heritage if you’re a descendant of ‘the south’. I’m thankful to claim the right.
The faith was deeply felt at the same time use of words, I shall not repeat, flew from mouths to colorful for your imagination.
This novel was delightful to me! ....
“You learn by tasting, feeling n smelling, listening and remembering, and burning things now and then”.
I say, Amen!
July 12, 2022
Family stories plus old fashioned southern recipes (possum and sweet potatoes, anyone?). The author starts way back in the 20s (oh, yeah, the 1920s), with his grandmother, a young bride who just really could not cook. Her young husband went to find his long gone father, and brought him home to teach her how. Eventually, the author's mother and aunts also learn. Now he has asked his mother to teach him and let him record the old recipes, before they're all gone. It's a bit like pulling teeth, getting his mother to try to specify her ingredients and methods, because she's never used a cookbook, and she "just knows". You add flour until the dough is right, then you bake it until it's done. He is able to put it together, though you may not find all the ingredients you need these days.
I enjoyed this book of recipes and the stories around them, but it was not a quick read for me. Not that it wasn't interesting, but it was really, really long.
I enjoyed this book of recipes and the stories around them, but it was not a quick read for me. Not that it wasn't interesting, but it was really, really long.
June 29, 2018
My favorite author. The only one I buy while they are still warm from the presses and keep to read again. I love this guy's family. The author tells about his grandmother and mother, who make old-fashioned southern cooking. These are not health conscious recipes. As a matter of fact, grease and fat factor heavily into most of the recipes. Each chapter tells a story pertaining to his favorite foods and then at the end of the chapter are the recipes. It is worth reading the entire recipe, as he writes them in his mother's voice and not in traditional recipe form. I might even make a few of them, although I think I will skip possum and squirrel
August 8, 2018
“But since that day in her cold kitchen, I knew I had to convince her to let me write it all down, to capture not just the legend but the soul of her cooking for the generations to come, and translate into the twenty-first century the recipes that exist only in her mind, before we all just blow away like the dust in that red field.”
Rick Bragg’s momma did not own a cookbook or a measuring cup or a mixer. But she did outlive 20-something ovens and never parted with her cast iron skillet, even though she once had to rescue it from a house fire. Every meal she cooked came from memory, using dabs and smidgens and tads and handfuls, and a measurement she mysteriously refers to as “you know, hon, just some.“ But every meal she cooked had soul . . . and a story. Bragg opens each chapter of this book with a black and white family photo and a title that offers a clue to the story behind the recipe. The stories are the pull here, but you also get recipes for pinto beans and collard greens and cornbread and fried chicken - name any Southern food, and the recipe is probably here, even turtle and bologna.
My personal reminder and lesson from this book is that a certain generation of people (most now in their 70’s and 80’s), who still like to talk and talk and talk, are dying off. Listen closely to what they have to say, even when you get tired of their same-old stories, because the world is changing - and we won’t get these people and these voices back. Bragg’s momma’s generation was/is a hands-on, face-to-face generation, so kudos to him for caring enough to spend the countless hours this book had to take to preserve what will soon be a lifestyle long gone.
Recommended to anyone who loves the South and Southern people and Southern stories, whether you cook or not. 4.5 stars.
Rick Bragg’s momma did not own a cookbook or a measuring cup or a mixer. But she did outlive 20-something ovens and never parted with her cast iron skillet, even though she once had to rescue it from a house fire. Every meal she cooked came from memory, using dabs and smidgens and tads and handfuls, and a measurement she mysteriously refers to as “you know, hon, just some.“ But every meal she cooked had soul . . . and a story. Bragg opens each chapter of this book with a black and white family photo and a title that offers a clue to the story behind the recipe. The stories are the pull here, but you also get recipes for pinto beans and collard greens and cornbread and fried chicken - name any Southern food, and the recipe is probably here, even turtle and bologna.
My personal reminder and lesson from this book is that a certain generation of people (most now in their 70’s and 80’s), who still like to talk and talk and talk, are dying off. Listen closely to what they have to say, even when you get tired of their same-old stories, because the world is changing - and we won’t get these people and these voices back. Bragg’s momma’s generation was/is a hands-on, face-to-face generation, so kudos to him for caring enough to spend the countless hours this book had to take to preserve what will soon be a lifestyle long gone.
Recommended to anyone who loves the South and Southern people and Southern stories, whether you cook or not. 4.5 stars.
May 10, 2018
I don’t think this is a five star for everyone, but it is for me. It’s awfully long and a funny sort of hybrid cookbook and memoir. But I love the way that Rick Bragg writes, and if he wants to take his time and write a big fat book of memories and recipes, I’m ok with that.
It doesn’t hurt that I’m from Alabama and feel a connection to the land and the tradition he describes, though perhaps his people would call me “rich folks”, being from the fancy big city of Birmingham and all.
But I can’t help that his writing makes me long for home, and evokes childhood memories of family gatherings filled with delicious food made by my people.
I love that this man has been all over the world and reported about all sorts of things, but the love and obvious affection he has for his family and his land trumps it all. I’m glad he wrote this book; it’s a tribute to a generation and a state of mind that is quickly disappearing.
It doesn’t hurt that I’m from Alabama and feel a connection to the land and the tradition he describes, though perhaps his people would call me “rich folks”, being from the fancy big city of Birmingham and all.
But I can’t help that his writing makes me long for home, and evokes childhood memories of family gatherings filled with delicious food made by my people.
I love that this man has been all over the world and reported about all sorts of things, but the love and obvious affection he has for his family and his land trumps it all. I’m glad he wrote this book; it’s a tribute to a generation and a state of mind that is quickly disappearing.
April 1, 2019
I have said it before and I will say it again - I love a good, slow Southern accent and Rick Bragg could narrate the phone book and keep me glued to his every word. Suffice to say, I was very, very happy listening to this. As an added bonus, he's a great writer :)
March 25, 2024
I picked up the Kindle version when my mother was in the hospital and I needed some comfort reading. It more than filled the bill, although I read only a little here and there since I discovered that what I really longed for was author Rick Bragg's narration of the book. Now she's home again and I am still very slowly reading and listening a bit here and there as I find the time to truly savor it.
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I loved this book which is much more memoir than recipe collection. There is plenty of personality, old customs, and living through hard times in Rick Bragg's family tree. I am not one who likes stories of dysfunctional families and I appreciate that the dysfunctions are smoothed out or merely hinted at because the emphasis is on how the recipe came into the family or how someone learned to cook. By wrapping the stories around the kitchen we can take the good with the bad, especially when it comes with a helping of Axhead Soup or Chicken and Dressing.
Note: the audio is read by Rick Bragg which elevates the book to something extra special. I always have it on my iPod for comfort listening. So, in essence, I am continually reading this book.
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I loved this book which is much more memoir than recipe collection. There is plenty of personality, old customs, and living through hard times in Rick Bragg's family tree. I am not one who likes stories of dysfunctional families and I appreciate that the dysfunctions are smoothed out or merely hinted at because the emphasis is on how the recipe came into the family or how someone learned to cook. By wrapping the stories around the kitchen we can take the good with the bad, especially when it comes with a helping of Axhead Soup or Chicken and Dressing.
Note: the audio is read by Rick Bragg which elevates the book to something extra special. I always have it on my iPod for comfort listening. So, in essence, I am continually reading this book.
September 6, 2019
A true testament to his mother and the era she lived; written lovingly with great humor and respect.
February 22, 2018
I received this as an advanced readers copy from NetGalley and it’s my first book by Rick Bragg. I think I would have enjoyed it a lot more had I already read a couple of his earlier books and been familiar with his family. The first half of the book moved around in time and left me uncertain if I was reading about Ava or Margaret since he didn’t use their names. And for that reason the second half of the book was far more enjoyable - I finally knew who I was reading about and I am in awe of their resourcefulness.
My running partner had read All Over but the Shoutin’ years ago and told me that I absolutely had to read it! I didn’t follow up but I will now. I became interested in the South ever since reading Hillbilly Elegy by J.D. Vance which I followed up with Paul Theroux’s Deep South and Rocket Boys by Homer Hickam. I realize there is an entire quadrant of our County that I am ignorant of and I appreciated the travel through time of the Bragg’s Hill People of Alabama and Georgia who are loving and loyal to a fault.
My great grandparents moved to Washington State from Missouri when my grandmother was three. My great grandmother was a Southern cook and she taught my grandmother and mother, both who cooked for a living like Margaret. Many of recipes in the book are familiar and I wrote some down, since the instructions I received from my grandmother were more like “butter the size of a walnut” and a “pinch.” Maybe I can finally wow someone with my Deviled Eggs.
My running partner had read All Over but the Shoutin’ years ago and told me that I absolutely had to read it! I didn’t follow up but I will now. I became interested in the South ever since reading Hillbilly Elegy by J.D. Vance which I followed up with Paul Theroux’s Deep South and Rocket Boys by Homer Hickam. I realize there is an entire quadrant of our County that I am ignorant of and I appreciated the travel through time of the Bragg’s Hill People of Alabama and Georgia who are loving and loyal to a fault.
My great grandparents moved to Washington State from Missouri when my grandmother was three. My great grandmother was a Southern cook and she taught my grandmother and mother, both who cooked for a living like Margaret. Many of recipes in the book are familiar and I wrote some down, since the instructions I received from my grandmother were more like “butter the size of a walnut” and a “pinch.” Maybe I can finally wow someone with my Deviled Eggs.
September 2, 2018
I put all other books aside to read anything by Rick Bragg. I like to read cookbooks and I like Rick Bragg so I enjoyed every bit of it. He is a great storyteller and writes sentences that make me laugh out loud. I like how he treats his mother. She talks, gardens and cooks like my great-granny did except mine made hogsheads cheese (ugh)- but thankfully, no possum.
I checked this out from the library but intend to get the audio book because I love to hear him read his books.
I checked this out from the library but intend to get the audio book because I love to hear him read his books.
August 13, 2018
There are only two faults with this book.
1. You will gain 10 pounds reading it (and may need cholesterol meds just from reading the words "bacon fat" and "butter" so often).
2. He didn't include the recipe for crabapple jelly, which is perhaps the best thing my grandmother ever made and which I've not a clue how she did it. I've probably bought a hundred jars of crabapple jelly over the years, and not one of them tastes likes hers. Based on everything else I saw in this book, I bet Margaret Bragg's crabapple jelly would come damn close.
This also may be the funniest cookbook ever written. Everything that hits the table has a story, and Bragg gives us not only the story, but the often meandering logic with which elders choose to share it and the even more meandering way it gets connected to dinner. Then he shares his attempts to get cooking instructions for the dishes from a woman who probably never measured anything in her life because she just knew. The result is a hugely entertaining collection of stories and a mouth-watering (if heart-stopping) collection of recipes.
In all honesty, I'll probably never make a thing from it (except that buttermilk pie because I've not had any of that in decades), but not because I don't think the food is good. I do. I recognize most of it and remember the flavors well. It's just that there's some things you can't substitute and his mam's right: you just cannot get decent chicken, good fresh fatback, or that government cheese anymore.
1. You will gain 10 pounds reading it (and may need cholesterol meds just from reading the words "bacon fat" and "butter" so often).
2. He didn't include the recipe for crabapple jelly, which is perhaps the best thing my grandmother ever made and which I've not a clue how she did it. I've probably bought a hundred jars of crabapple jelly over the years, and not one of them tastes likes hers. Based on everything else I saw in this book, I bet Margaret Bragg's crabapple jelly would come damn close.
This also may be the funniest cookbook ever written. Everything that hits the table has a story, and Bragg gives us not only the story, but the often meandering logic with which elders choose to share it and the even more meandering way it gets connected to dinner. Then he shares his attempts to get cooking instructions for the dishes from a woman who probably never measured anything in her life because she just knew. The result is a hugely entertaining collection of stories and a mouth-watering (if heart-stopping) collection of recipes.
In all honesty, I'll probably never make a thing from it (except that buttermilk pie because I've not had any of that in decades), but not because I don't think the food is good. I do. I recognize most of it and remember the flavors well. It's just that there's some things you can't substitute and his mam's right: you just cannot get decent chicken, good fresh fatback, or that government cheese anymore.
June 15, 2018
OMG, to ME, this is the best book in the world. I'm currently listening to the audio version, read by the author, and am on chapter 32. I have never had quite this experience with a book before, where I look forward to my daily 32-mile-each-way commute, just so I can keep listening!
This book is 95% hilarious family stories from long bygone eras, and 5% recipes (which you may or may not want to ever make). This book is: Genealogist meets Storyteller meets Hillbilly.
It's a record of times and places and ways of life, all culminating into the origin of Rick's families recipes, which have been passed down for generations. Every recipe has a story, a memory attached to it.
My own family has just a few recipes that have stories attached to them. This book is a rich wealth for Rick Bragg's family, and will itself be a genealogical record worth more than gold to his descendants.
Rick Bragg's writing is utterly lyrical. It will make you laugh, if you can understand the at-times-thick drawl. Took me a chapter or two to get used to it, but I now find myself coming home from my daily commute, speaking with a bit of a drawl myself these days.
A magical book, that is just hard to describe. I love it. Then again, I love BOTH genealogy AND cooking, and a good story.
I already know it. I will cry when it's over. Or maybe just start listening to it all over again, as it's quite a long book. But, I don't mind.
This book is 95% hilarious family stories from long bygone eras, and 5% recipes (which you may or may not want to ever make). This book is: Genealogist meets Storyteller meets Hillbilly.
It's a record of times and places and ways of life, all culminating into the origin of Rick's families recipes, which have been passed down for generations. Every recipe has a story, a memory attached to it.
My own family has just a few recipes that have stories attached to them. This book is a rich wealth for Rick Bragg's family, and will itself be a genealogical record worth more than gold to his descendants.
Rick Bragg's writing is utterly lyrical. It will make you laugh, if you can understand the at-times-thick drawl. Took me a chapter or two to get used to it, but I now find myself coming home from my daily commute, speaking with a bit of a drawl myself these days.
A magical book, that is just hard to describe. I love it. Then again, I love BOTH genealogy AND cooking, and a good story.
I already know it. I will cry when it's over. Or maybe just start listening to it all over again, as it's quite a long book. But, I don't mind.
April 1, 2018
Rick Bragg relates family stories as he shares some of his mother's recipes. His mother, like most Southern cooks of that generation, did not follow recipes. She cooked by eyeballing things and getting the ratio correct based on practice. The family stories needed editing. They failed to draw me in, partly because of excess verbiage and lack of action verbs. Most recipes can be found in other Southern regional cookbooks. In the electronic advance copy, the recipe's conclusion often bumps into text following it, making it difficult for readers. The distinction between the recipe and stories about the recipe needs more separation as well. Perhaps his identification of his mother as the best cook in the world elicits the most contentious point of the book. Why? Because my mom in the neighboring state of Mississippi earned that honor. I received an advance electronic copy of the book through NetGalley with the expectation of an honest review.
November 12, 2023
Bragg is a delicious mix of Twain, Steinbeck, Faulkner, and Robert Frost. I especially love when he writes about his big southern family that frequently reminds me of my own grandparents and great aunts and uncles who grew up in the South. They brought many of the southern traditions and recipes with them when they all made their way to California during the Depression. Some of our best times together were spent gathered around the table, eating, poking fun at one another, and laughing ourselves silly. This book felt like traveling back in time when they were all still here. It's a blessing to come from such people, and it's a joy to read Bragg's books.
May 31, 2018
Storytelling at its greatest. Each chapter limns the hardscrabble lives of his kin in Alabama through love and food with stories and recipes. A chapter or two each night was a perfect cap to my day. For lovers of Southern writing and Southern food.
May 30, 2024
Not your normal cookbook. This might be my favorite cookbook. I listened to the audio version. You can’t get a better narrator for this one than Rick Bragg. His family history is mixed in with it. 10 stars.
August 7, 2018
I don’t think Weight Watchers is going to be endorsing Rick Bragg’s cookbook/memoir any time soon. You won’t find skim milk, egg whites, or fat-free anything in this cookbook. But what you will find is fresh food made the way my grandmothers used to cook.
When I first opened the book, I flipped through and was a little disappointed. I know how to fry okra and make cornbread. But there are a lot of recipes I’ve never heard of (butter rolls, cheese and sausage pie) and interesting variations on standard recipes (hamburger steak, macaroni and cheese, devilled eggs).
I’ve been a fan of Rick Bragg ever since I read All Over but the Shoutin’. I’ve read so much about his family, I’m starting to think of them as my family. Rick’s mother, Margaret Bragg, used her cooking as an expression of love for her family. Rick does the same thing with words and his love and admiration for his mother comes shining through as he shares his family’s stories and recipes.
When I first opened the book, I flipped through and was a little disappointed. I know how to fry okra and make cornbread. But there are a lot of recipes I’ve never heard of (butter rolls, cheese and sausage pie) and interesting variations on standard recipes (hamburger steak, macaroni and cheese, devilled eggs).
I’ve been a fan of Rick Bragg ever since I read All Over but the Shoutin’. I’ve read so much about his family, I’m starting to think of them as my family. Rick’s mother, Margaret Bragg, used her cooking as an expression of love for her family. Rick does the same thing with words and his love and admiration for his mother comes shining through as he shares his family’s stories and recipes.
October 16, 2018
I saw this on goodreads and instantly checked out the book and audio from my library, I was immediately smitten! As a native Californian southern cooking is like going to a foreign country, I will say the food is not my style, ever, but I loved hearing about his family history through food, stories and recipes. I adored the slow southern cadence, his momma's spunk and really getting a firm toe hold in the warm red dirt. It's a book about gentler times, the hardscrabble life and family, loved every southern minute.
July 2, 2019
This collection of family tales and recipes is so fondly and vividly written that I felt like I was back at my Memaw’s, sitting on the counter sneaking bits of sugar cookie dough. Being from the south myself, these stories felt familiar, as did many of the recipes. The very mention of red eye gravy had me fiercely missing my grandpa. Bragg is a truly gifted storyteller; thoughtful and damned funny, too. This memoir is a big ol’ hug.
Meeting Bragg at last year’s Southern Festival of Books was a pleasure.
Meeting Bragg at last year’s Southern Festival of Books was a pleasure.
October 4, 2018
Thanks to Netgalley for letting me read this early.
This was the first Rick Bragg book I've read. And I can't wait to read more. Loved the inside look into this family by memories and recipes. Loved all the recipes, because I know they are family, shared over the years, just like some of my favorite recipes.
This was the first Rick Bragg book I've read. And I can't wait to read more. Loved the inside look into this family by memories and recipes. Loved all the recipes, because I know they are family, shared over the years, just like some of my favorite recipes.
April 12, 2018
This started off promisingly, with fascinating stories about the author's family and life in the South, as well as mouth-watering recipes (butter rolls, buttermilk pie, real biscuits, deviled eggs). Unfortunately, it could have used some editing and tightening up as it dragged on a bit.
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