Soul-food cook sprinkles love and family into all her creations

McClatchy Newspapers (MCT) - It's a Sunday afternoon at the Logans' home, and a weekly ritual has taken over the kitchen.

Peach cobbler bubbles in one oven. Macaroni and cheese _ made with smoked cheddar _ bakes in another one. And Jeanne Logan, dressed in her mother's apron, lifts a pot lid and eyes the jumble of black-eyed peas and lima beans.

"It's real rare that we don't cook," Logan says.

She still has to season the candied yams, fry the chicken and cook hot-water cornbread, but Logan isn't fazed. With the help of her family, the seven-dish Sunday dinner takes little more than a couple hours to prepare.

That's the point Logan is making this month as she teaches a cooking class that's all about soul food. Or, as she says, "cooking for Some One U Love."

Since April, Logan has taught a variety of cooking classes. In addition to Southern dishes, she offers advice about quick dinners ("Quick & Tasty 45-Minute Meals"), tips for menu planning and grocery shopping ("Back to Basics 101"), and how to win a man's affections through his stomach ("Lovers at First Bite").

Logan, isn't a chef, but she is a natural cook with a strong understanding of the local bounty in California's central San Joaquin Valley. About 65 years ago, her paternal grandparents, Sid and Olevia Cooksey, bought a dozen acres in the Atwater, Calif., countryside and settled with their seven children.

The area, informally known as Cookseyville, was home to many a good meal. Logan grew up with a vegetable garden out front, a cow in the back and a family that knew what to do with both.

Her parents, Cornelious and Ellen Cooksey, would preserve the harvest.

"We drank milk from the cow," Logan says. "We had to churn our own butter."

Logan's biggest inspiration was her mother _ the kind of cook who could turn vague ideas into dishes fondly remembered years later. Her mother's sisters had similar talents.

"Whoo, girl! My Mom's people could cook!" she says. "My Mom was the queen of the sweet-potato pie."

Her father was known for his barbecue and his Saturday morning breakfasts.

"That was his gift to us," Logan says of those breakfasts, which featured foods such as homemade biscuits and apricot-pineapple jam, mackerel croquettes and country fried potatoes.

It was a time when caterers weren't preferred, even when it came to weddings. Instead, churchgoers themselves dished up pickled watermelon rinds, barbecued chicken and ribs, potato salad and spaghetti.

"Back then, the churches took over and cooked everything," Logan says. "Those women could cook."

Like a biscuit dunked in gravy, Logan soaked up the lessons in those fish fries, barbecues, breakfasts and Sunday dinners.

She points out the proper thickness of the batter for hot-water cornbread. It should be heavy enough to drop from a spoon. If it's too wet, a short time in the microwave will firm it slightly.

When making candied sweet potatoes, be sure to drain the cooking water before adding cinnamon, nutmeg, sugar, butter and vanilla to the boiled tubers. Sweet potatoes release a lot of liquid, Logan says, and the sauce will be too runny if the cooking water is still in the pot.

She listens to the vigorous bubble of the oil after slipping in the breaded chicken. "Oh yeah," she says. "That's what it's supposed to do. Make that noise."

The final ingredient to all these dishes is a heavy dose of storytelling.

Yvonne Bailey, one of Logan's daughters who helped prepare Sunday's dinner, reminded her mother of the tea cakes.

The tradition started years ago, when Mr. Jackson, a family friend, would bring them to Logan's childhood home.

"Here come the tea cake man! Here come the tea cake man!" Logan recalls saying.

Ellen Cooksey took notice. So she made her own version and served them with ice cream.

"She said, 'Girl, you better learn how to make these tea cakes,'" Jeanne Logan recalls. " 'cause one day I'm gonna be dead and gone.' "

Jeanne Logan did as she was told. Ellen Cooksey died in 2004, but the tea cakes still are comfort food.

Bailey smiles upon hearing the story. She's learning her mother's dishes.

"I've always been the daughter who liked to be around my Mom and my Grandma," she says.

These cooking tips and stories would have stayed in the family if one of Logan's friends hadn't bugged her for recipes and instruction. Logan finally gave in; she teaches classes two or three weekends a month at Marsol, a New Orleans-themed restaurant in Fresno, Calif.

Soon, Logan started cooking up peach cobbler in Marsol's kitchen to serve at the restaurant. Others, such as Chameleon in the Tower District, started asking for her cakes and cookies.

Bailey offers a piece of pound cake that's remarkably tender and moist, yet doesn't fall apart. Logan calls it the "big booty pound cake," so named for its ability to coax folks into eating more than one high-caloric slice.

That cake whets the appetite for dinner. As the family sits down, others arrive. Rhenadia Armstrong, one of Logan's daughters, brings over her three young children. Efrem Edwards, Bailey's boyfriend, slides into a seat.

Bobby Logan, Jeanne's husband, recommends the vinegary pepper sauce for the collard and mustard greens flavored with ham hock. He'd helped prepare the greens _ as well as the mix of black-eyed peas and lima beans _ earlier in the day.

The serving spoon dips repeatedly into the macaroni-and-cheese dish. The pile of fried chicken in the bowl slowly dwindles. Plates pass from hand to hand for a spoonful of greens or black-eyed peas and lima beans.

Somehow, everyone manages to leave room for peach cobbler.

___

ELLEN'S HOT-WATER CORN BREAD

Makes 12 servings

1 cup cornmeal

1 teaspoon salt

Pinch baking powder

1 teaspoon white sugar (see note)

1 egg

1 tablespoon shortening

Âľ cup boiling water

1 teaspoon butter

Vegetable oil or bacon fat, for frying

In a medium-size bowl, combine cornmeal, salt, baking powder, sugar and egg. Add shortening. While constantly stirring, slowly add boiling water until shortening melts, and the batter turns thick enough to drop by spoonfuls. Add butter and stir until incorporated. Pour vegetable oil or bacon fat to a depth of ½ inch in a large skillet and heat to 375 degrees. (Measure the temperature with a candy or deep-fry thermometer.) Place heaping tablespoons of the cornmeal mixture into the hot oil. Fry, turning once, until crisp and light golden brown on both sides. (Total cooking time is about 5 minutes.) Repeat until all cornmeal mixture is cooked. Drain on paper towels and serve hot.

Note: Cooks who like sweeter corn bread may be tempted to add more sugar. Resist the urge; too much sugar will cause the dough to turn runny, like funnel cake, in the hot oil.

_Jeanne Logan

___

SOUTHERN FRIED CHICKEN

Makes 6 servings

1 cup all-purpose flour

1 teaspoon sea salt

Ground black pepper, to taste

1 tablespoon garlic powder

1 tablespoon garlic salt

1 teaspoon dried thyme

1 tablespoon Lawry's seasoned salt

1 teaspoon paprika

1 cup panko (see note)

1 cup buttermilk

2 eggs

About 1 quart vegetable oil, for frying

1 (3-pound) whole chicken, cut into pieces

On a large plate, mix flour with salt, pepper, garlic powder, garlic salt, thyme, Lawry's seasoned salt and paprika. Set aside.

Spread panko on a separate plate. Set aside.

Mix buttermilk and eggs in a large bowl. Set aside.

Add ½-inch to ¾-inch vegetable oil to a large, seasoned, cast-iron skillet or an electric skillet. Heat to 365 degrees. (Measure the temperature with a candy or deep- frying thermometer.)

As the oil heats, line a baking sheet with waxed paper or parchment paper. Set aside.

Dip chicken pieces in buttermilk-and-egg mixture. Coat in seasoned flour mixture, then coat in panko. Place the chicken pieces on the prepared baking sheet.

Once the oil reaches 365 degrees, transfer coated chicken pieces to hot oil.

Cover and fry until golden brown, turning twice. (Total cooking time: about 15 to 20 minutes.)

Remove cooked chicken from hot oil and drain on paper towels.

Use a skimmer to remove burned bits of chicken and breading from the hot oil.

Add the next batch of chicken and cook as described above. (Alternatively, if the oil looks too dirty, discard it, wipe the skillet clean, add fresh oil and continue with the rest of the cooking directions.)

Serve hot.

Note: Panko, or Japanese bread crumbs, are widely available in Asian stores.

_Jeanne Logan

___

SOUTHERN-STYLE COLLARD GREENS

Makes 6 servings

1 ½ quarts water

1 ½ pounds smoked ham hocks, smoked pork shank, smoked turkey, salt pork, or a mixture of these meats

8 bunches collard greens, washed and stems trimmed off

½ teaspoon crushed red pepper flakes (optional)

1 large red onion or white onion, diced

1 yellow wax chili pepper, sliced in half

ÂĽ cup sugar

1 jalapeno pepper, de-seeded and sliced in half

2 tablespoons apple-cider vinegar

1 (14-15 ounce) can chicken broth

ÂĽ cup vegetable oil

Cracked black pepper, to taste

Place the water and the ham hocks (and/or other meats) in a large pot with a tight-fitting lid. Bring to a boil.

Reduce the heat to very low and simmer, covered, for 30 minutes.

As the meat simmers, roll the collard leaves lengthwise, then cut each roll crosswise into three or four pieces.

Add crushed red pepper flakes, onion, yellow wax chili pepper, sugar, jalapeno pepper, apple-cider vinegar and chicken broth to the pot.

Add collard greens, then cover and cook on high heat for 30 minutes.

Lift the lid occasionally to check that the liquid is about an inch above the greens. (Keep a kettle of hot water on the stove nearby to add water to greens, if needed.)

Decrease heat to medium and simmer, covered, for about 2 hours, stirring occasionally.

Add the vegetable oil and simmer, covered, for 30 more minutes or until tender. Season with cracked black pepper. Serve hot.

Jeanne Logan

___

© 2008, The Fresno Bee (Fresno, Calif.).