Recipe by Sheri Castle

Photos by Forrest Mason

We like to talk about barbecue, both the rendition and consumption. We know there are regional specialties, fierce loyalties, and spirited debates.

Like a Proust questionnaire with a single query, you can gain insight into people by asking what they will even acknowledge as barbecue, much less eat. Barbecue sides can be just as evocative and map-dot specific. Few of us will ever attempt pit-smoked barbecue at home, much less expect to master it. The sides, on the other hand, are reassuringly accessible.

There’s little consensus (no surprise there) on what exactly constitutes a barbecue side, but there are common denominators, especially among places that take barbecue seriously. They don’t fiddle with dishes that draw undue time and attention away from the pit. There’s no à la minute in the world of barbecue. Sides are usually made in large batches that keep a day or two, or don’t need much minding once underway. Their quality can’t fade during service hours or during a stint on a steam table. Seasonal specials might come and go, or not come at all, but the core lineup is made from inexpensive ingredients that are readily available year round.

This throughline doesn’t imply that all barbecue sides are the same. Far from it. We count on the meat, but we anticipate the sides. (For those who don’t eat meat yet find themselves at a barbecue restaurant, the sides are everything.) We expect slaw, for example, but we marvel at the various ways different cooks will make it. We look forward to beans, and we know those beans will change as we eat our way westward from the Atlantic to the other side of the Mississippi. We delight in novel dishes found in only a handful of places, or perhaps only one location, such as the orange-hued hash of South Carolina that’s pretty much unheard of in other states. I admire the forthright nature of barbecue sides and appreciate that we get to pick what we want. Barbecue places fix us a plate; they don’t plate our meal.

Side cooks are on a par with the pit cooks when it comes to putting their local spins on menu items we deem essential to the overall barbecue experience. The pitmaster might get the hype as the front man, but the side cooks deserve love for being the tight house band.

The pitmaster might get the hype as the front man, but the side cooks deserve love for being the tight house band.

Taking inspiration from classic Southern barbecue joint sides, I developed eight recipes that we can cook at home. I chose dishes that can go together and complement all types of barbecue. Some are common. Others you might not have heard of. Of course, these recipes are not the final say on barbecue sides, nor the only way to make them. Just as there will never be consensus on barbecue, there is no single recipe for any side dish. We all get to talk about our favorites, but none of us gets the last word. I made these sides the way I would if I could have y’all over to my house. You can bring the barbecue.

Banana Pudding

by Sheri Castle

[PRINT THIS RECIPE]

Not every barbecue place serves banana pudding, but more barbecue places serve banana pudding than any other single dessert. It’s a creamy cool-down after a smoky, robust meal. Some places scoop individual servings into grab-and-go cups, given that portability is a plus for barbecue desserts, especially in places that focus on lunch or take-away service. Folks need to get back to work or hit the road. But that doesn’t mean we should rush when making our banana pudding. Some places have taken so many shortcuts that all that’s left is instant pudding, Cool Whip, busted cookies, and wishful thinking. This is the real deal, featuring rich, silky homemade custard and real whipped cream. But do buy the Nilla Wafers; they can’t be improved on.

Banana pudding is likely a distant cousin of British trifles made of stale cake, custard, cream, and fruit. Bananas have sailed into our deep Southern ports for generations, initially making their way inland by train to small-town whistle stops in the days before refrigeration. Today, bananas are inexpensive, available year-round, and easy to find, even in a basket near the register at the corner quick mart.

For banana pudding that’s show-off special, use bananas that are golden yellow with a smattering of light brown freckles, the sure sign of perfect ripeness. I recommend taking the extra step of infusing the milk for the custard with bananas as well, to enhance the flavor.

Makes 8 servings

3 cups whole milk
4 to 6 ripe bananas
3/4 cup granulated sugar
1/4 cup cornstarch
Big pinch of kosher salt
6 large egg yolks
3 tablespoons unsalted butter, cut into pats and chilled
2 teaspoons vanilla extract
5 to 7 ounces Nilla Wafers
1 cup whipping cream, chilled
1/4 cup powdered sugar
1/2 teaspoon vanilla extract

Pour the milk into a small saucepan. Peel 2 bananas, cut them into chunks, and add them to the pan. Bring to a bare simmer over medium heat, stirring gently. Remove from the heat and let stand at room temperature until cool, about 2 hours. Do not let it stand so long that the bananas darken the milk. Strain the milk and discard the bananas.

Sift the granulated sugar and cornstarch together into a medium saucepan. While whisking, add the milk in a slow, steady stream, and whisk until smooth. Strain the egg yolks through a mesh sieve into the milk. Whisk until smooth. Drop in the butter. Place over medium heat and cook until the custard thickens, 8 to 10 minutes, stirring slowly and continuously with a heat-proof spatula. When ready, the custard will coat the back of the spatula. Remove from the heat and stir in the vanilla.

Spread a thin layer of warm custard over the bottom of a shallow 1 1/2-quart dish. Cover with a single layer of Nilla Wafers. Peel and slice 1 or 2 bananas (depending on their size and how much banana you like) over the wafers. Cover with custard. Add another layer of Nilla Wafers and bananas, and then pour the rest of the custard into the dish, making sure the bananas are covered. (If you like firmer, cakier pudding, make 3 layers of wafers, bananas, and custard.)

Press a sheet of plastic wrap directly onto the custard to keep a skin from forming. Refrigerate the pudding until completely chilled, at least 4 hours and preferably overnight.

Just before serving, whip the cream, powdered sugar, and vanilla to stiff peaks and spread over the top of the pudding.

Serve chilled.

Variation:
Some people prefer meringue on banana pudding. However, baked meringue can quickly turn soft and sticky on hot, humid days, making it a risky venture in the South. If you want to give it a go nonetheless, here’s one way to do it. Know that the meringue must go on while the pudding is still warm, so have the ingredients prepped and don’t tarry.

Assemble the pudding in a heatproof dish. Position an oven rack in the lower third of the oven and preheat to 400°F. With a mixer on low speed, beat 1/2 cup room temperature egg whites (from about 4 large eggs), 1/4 teaspoon cream of tartar, and 1/4 teaspoon salt in a squeaky clean glass or metal bowl until frothy. Increase the speed to medium and add 1/3 cup granulated sugar, 1 tablespoon at a time.

Increase the speed to high and continue beating until stiff peaks form. Spoon the meringue on top of the hot custard and spread it all the way to the rim of the dish. Make pretty whorls and peaks with the back of a spoon. Bake until the meringue is golden brown, about 15 minutes. Cool to room temperature, about 1 hour, and then refrigerate until chilled.

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