| Use a 5 or 7 quart pot, preferably a cast iron Dutch oven. I suggest a Lodge 5 quart Dutch oven #8DO2 or 7 quart Dutch oven #10D02. |
For a campfire version of this recipe, click here.
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If any of y'all Yankees own a white people blues bar and you're looking for some cheap but authentic blues food to serve a crowd of drunks at a blues bash, well, it don't get no cheaper or more authentic than pork neckbones ‘n' rice. This recipe came straight from Carolina Henderson, the cook and old blues song expert at ZZ's juke joint in Ferriday, Louisiana. For 40 or 50 drunk Yankees or 20 drunk Texans, I'd double this recipe and cook it in a 10 quart Dutch oven. I'd also serve a 5 quart Dutch oven filled with canned turnip greens cooked with a fist-sized chunk of salt pork bacon, "salt meat," us Deltonians call it. On the side have about 6 or 8 big skillets of cornbread. And pepper sauce for the greens. And buttermilk.
Here's what you'll need:
Directions:
Pork neckbones contain more meat than you'd think. Pork neckbones ‘n' rice taste best served with cornbread and either turnip greens or black-eyed peas. If you can't get fresh greens where you live, use canned w/diced turnips. Throw in a slice of bacon for seasoning. Carolina's recipe actually calls for less water and cooking the rice separately. She cooks the rice "‘til it's almost done," then washes it to remove the starch. She then adds it to the pot where it finishes cooking. She also cooks a variation of this recipe that she calls "pork ‘n' gravy."
Here's how Carolina cooks pork 'n' gravy:
Pork neckbones ‘n' rice is cheap, as you can see from this analysis of my total costs:
LANGUAGE PROBLEMS: We all laughed and joked and had a hi-ho good time while the juke box played the blues. Carolina and I started talking about cooking; hence this recipe. Nea leaned over, and, above the music, loudly asked, "WHAT ARE YOU AND CAROLINA TALKING ABOUT COOKING? NECKBONES AND WHAT?" I yelled back, "NECKBONES AND RICE!" "YUCK! I CAN'T BELIEVE YOU EAT RATS!" "NOT RATS. RICE!" "OH. WHAT'S RASS?" That floored me. I thought everybody ate rice. "YOU EAT IT! YOU PUT GRAVY ON IT!" "OH!" She looked pensive for a moment. Then she yelled, "SPELL IT!" "R-I-C-E! RICE!" "OH! I THOUGHT YOU SAID RASS!" "I DID!" Along about that time the jukebox stopped. A 40ish guy sitting at the bar behind ZZ and Nea had downed too many tall-boy Buds. He looked over at Carolina and said to me, "Pork ‘n' gravy! That old woman can cook some mighty fine pork ‘n' gravy." "Old woman!" Carolina exclaimed. "Boy, who you callin' an old woman?" "Mighty fine," the guy continued. "I'm tellin' you that old woman can cook some mighty fine pork ‘n' gravy." "Boy," Carolina continued, "I'm fixin' to come over there an' put a knot on your head!" Well, I'll end by saying that the guy quickly realized who put the pork in his gravy and shut his mouth. And on another Sunday afternoon at ZZ's, a wonderful time was had by all.
Update 8-01-11
Ten years later just the neckbones cost $2.41. I cooked them exactly the same as in the recipe above but with three exceptions:
The batch you see here was served with two cathead biscuits, a big ol' dollop of turnip greens with a double dash of homemade pepper sauce, and a glass of ice cold buttermilk. If I owned a soul food restaurant I'd serve pork neckbones & rice prepared exactly like this. However, I'd leave the meat on some of the neck bones and include one with each serving. For color, I'd place a raw stalk or two of green onion across the rice. Side dishes would be turnip or collard greens with pepper sauce and/or a baked sweet potato and/or candied yams or banana pudding. You'd have a choice of homemade biscuits with real butter and/or sugared or sugarless cornbread, also with real butter. For drinks, you'd have a choice of sweetened or unsweetened strong tea, ice cold milk or buttermilk and several choices of ice cold dry white wines. My favorite chilled wine, Mouton Cadet Rosé, would also compliment this wonderful meal.
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