4 garlic cloves, finely chopped
8 ounces (about 1¼ cups) dried black-eyed peas, picked over and rinsed
8 ounces smoked ham, cut into ½-inch dice (about 1½ cups)
4 cups low-sodium chicken broth
1 teaspoon dried thyme
1 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper
2 bay leaves
1½ cups long-grain white rice
½ teaspoon kosher salt
4 green onions (white and light green parts), thinly sliced
Hot sauce, for serving
Turn an Instant Pot to Sauté and melt the butter. Add the red and green bell peppers, jalapeño (if using), celery, onion, and garlic and cook, stirring occasionally, until the vegetables are slightly softened, about 4 minutes.
Stir in the black-eyed peas, ham, broth, thyme, black pepper, and bay leaves.
Close and lock the lid. Use the Manual button to set the Instant Pot to high pressure for 10 minutes. When the cooking time is complete, let the cooker go to Keep Warm mode for 10 minutes. Using a towel to protect your hand, twist the steam-release handle on the lid to Venting to release the remaining pressure.
Meanwhile, rinse the rice under cold water until the water runs clear. Drain thoroughly.
Open the lid. Gently stir in the rinsed rice and salt. Close the lid and twist the steam-release handle back to Steaming. Use the Manual button to set the Instant Pot to high pressure for 6 minutes.
When the cooking time is complete, let the cooker go to Keep Warm mode for 10 minutes. If the pressure has not yet released entirely, use a towel to protect your hand and twist the steam-release handle on the lid to Venting to release the remaining pressure.
Open the pot; the mixture should be moist but not soupy. Remove and discard the bay leaves. Scatter the green onions on top. Use a large fork to gently fluff the Hoppin’ John and incorporate the green onions.
Serve in individual dishes, passing the hot sauce at the table.
Dorothea Benton Frank’s Favorite Cocktails: Limoncello Spritz
With a nod to the town of Ravello, here’s a perfect Italian-inspired sparkler: the classic Italian liqueur Limoncello, brought together with vodka, brightened up with fresh lemon juice, and fizzed up with a big pour of sparkling wine. Tart and lively, it’s an excellent pairing for Hoppin’ John, its bright acidity cutting right through the substantial, hearty dish.
¾ ounce vodka
¾ ounce Limoncello (Luxardo recommended)
½ ounce fresh lemon juice
¼ ounce simple syrup
Sparkling wine
Combine all ingredients except sparkling wine in cocktail shaker with ice. Shake vigorously, then strain into a wineglass with fresh ice. Top with 2 ounces of sparkling wine. Garnish with a thin lemon wheel and a sprig of lemon verbena.
By Carey Jones and John D. McCarthy, authors of Be Your Own Bartender: A Sure-Fire Guide to Finding (and Making) the Perfect Drink for You, published November 2018; johnandcarey.com
Dorothea Benton Frank’s Letter to Her Readers II
Dear Readers,
When you announce to friends and family that you intend to earn your living as a professional writer, they look at you like you’ve got a loose screw. Maybe I do, but so far it’s working out a lot better than either they or I could have predicted. So I thought I’d share with you what my writing life looks like and how it all began.
My father had been home from World War II for a decade before I came into the world in 1951. He served in Europe, where he followed Patton’s army and taught and demonstrated bomb disposal, actually publishing a manual on the topic. Somewhere in this world there is a picture of my father, the major, sitting on a live bomb, a huge thing of probably ten or more feet in length with fins on one end. He’s smoking a cigar and laughing. Figures.
As a child, I loved newspapers (the funnies, especially) and I loved books. So did my dad. I can remember every night when he came home from work, he would eat supper and then he would read the Charleston Evening Post, now the Post and Courier. When he was sufficiently caught up on the world, sometimes we would take a drive down to Mr. Louie Burmester’s place of business, just a few blocks away on Sullivan’s Island. It was just the two of us. He would shoot the breeze with Mr. Louie and I’d enjoy a small vanilla ice cream cone on the house. Then I was allowed to choose a Golden Book, which he would read to me later that evening at bedtime. I think they were twenty-five cents. Anyway, this little excursion didn’t happen every night, but we made the trip together often enough for me to amass a small mountain of children’s books. By chance, the night before he died, he read me every single one. He was just forty-two and I was only six months past my fourth birthday. My mother was devastated and never got over losing him. Well, to be honest, she recovered well enough to marry and sadly bury two more husbands. They were lovely men.
By the time I was seven, my older siblings were all out of the house. My sister married, and my brothers either joined the Coast Guard, went to boarding school in Texas, or moved to California seeking fame and fortune in the music business. I became sort of an only child. Basically, I had a childhood with enough drama that could turn anyone into a writer.
Stella Maris Grammar School in Mount Pleasant, South Carolina, was where I would receive my primary school education. We spent our days under the firm hand of the Sisters of Charity and the stalwart nuns of Our Lady of Mercy. They were dedicated to expanding our minds and saving our heathen souls while imbuing us with a love of God and a fear of the Devil. We were taught to understand our faith through the Baltimore Catechism. We learned that our purpose on this earth was to know God, to love God, and to serve Him in this world. We gave up candy for Lent, we said rosaries and other prayers called, believe it or
