The Elvis, #SeriousSandwich

The Elvis: peanut butter, banana & honey on multigrain. Lucy Mercer/A Cook and Her Books.

The year was 1961 and, as my mama tells the story, she touched Elvis. Yes, that would be the real Elvis. Not only the real Elvis, but the young, hip-ripping, teen idol Elvis. As she tells the story, she was a young woman in her early 20's, working in a bank in downtown Nashville, when Elvis Presley, fresh from his stint in the Army, was honored by the Tennessee Legislature.

Mama and "the girls" from the bank went down to the Capitol at lunchtime in hopes of catching a glimpse of The King. She was in the crowd as it surged forward around him, and she swears she touched Elvis. Her hand touched his hand. She's sure of it.

And what does this story have to do with sandwiches, you ask? Well, I like to tell my Mom's Elvis story, but I also wanted to deepen the connection between the King of Rock and Roll and the Baron of Bam. That's right, as I'm cooking my way through Emeril Lagasse's new cookbook (on sale now!), "Emeril's Kicked-Up Sandwiches," I found a recipe for Emeril's version of The Elvis. The classic Elvis sandwich is a peanut butter and banana sandwich that's fried in butter. The recipe, in many variations (some variations add crispy bacon) appears in many books. Nigella Lawson writes about it in "Nigella Bites," in the chapter (ironically, I hope) titled "Trashy." I don't think the Elvis is trashy. I think it's the kind of food that mamas, maybe in particular Southern mamas, will make their baby boys. (And I think we can all agree that the King was a classic Mama's Boy.)

Back to sandwiches: Emeril does the Elvis right, swapping out the white bread for some blood-sugar-diffusing multi-grain and adding a drizzle of honey to the pb and banana. If you're a choosy Mom, go with a pb that's noticeably salty for that sweet-salty vibe that's so 2011.

The recipe is officially titled the Peanut Butter-Honey-Banana and it's grilled to ooey-gooey drippiness. My peanut butter-loving daughter and husband inhaled them.

Here's my mom about the time she met Elvis, in her favorite car, and no, her daddy gave it to her, not Elvis.

Lucy Mercer/A Cook and Her Books

This post is part of #SeriousSandwich, a blogalong sponsored by Morrow Books marking the publication of

Emeril’s Kicked-Up Sandwiches (Morrow, $24.99)

Stay tuned for more #SeriousSandwich stories...

If you love cookbooks like I do, you gotta follow The Secret Ingredient Blog from Morrow Books.

On the Road: Hot Dogs

Hot dog by Lucy Mercer/A Cook and Her Books



Just like Charles Kuralt, this week I’m on the road for the Salon Kitchen Challenge, checking out hot dogs in Chattanooga, Tennessee, home of the Choo-Choo (pardon me, boys, while I hum a few bars), spectacular views of and from Lookout Mountain and a really cool aquarium. And yes, the All-American hot dog.

For me, hot dogs taste of sweat and sunscreen, saltwater and chlorine. They are staples of ball parks, tourist trap beach towns, children’s birthday parties with clowns, and kid menus all across town. I like hot dogs beefy, with a Pollock-like squidge of ketchup, mustard and pickle relish from little plastic packets, like the one above from the stand outside the Tennessee Aquarium.

When I'm traveling, I try to eat where the locals eat, and on this visit to Chattanooga, my brother recommended Nikki's Drive-in, a diner on a hill just north of the mighty Tennessee River.

Nikki's Drive-In by Lucy Mercer/A Cook and Her Books

Nikki's advertises itself as the "Best Little Seafood House in Town" and the fried shrimp, in all their Gulf-advertised glory, looked fine, but today we went diner-style, with cheeseburgers and chicken strips for the kids and a chili dog for me.

Nikki's Drive-In by Lucy Mercer/A Cook and Her Books

That's chili-slaw dog, my friends, and Nikki's served it so you can't even tell there's a hot dog underneath the chili. And yes, those are beans in the chili. In fact, the chili is just the way I like it, not the finely ground "hot dog chili" that you find at places like Atlanta's Varsity. ("What'll ya have? What'll ya have?"). There's a place in this world for that fine product, but I prefer a meaty, chunky chili with beans. This dog was topped with a mildly sweet, coarsely shredded coleslaw, the perfect counterpoint to the spicy and meaty goings-on.

Nikki's chili slaw dog by Lucy Mercer/A Cook and Her Books

I'm not going to pretend that we ate wheatberries and seitan for the rest of the meal. We indulged, and ordered a large platter of onion rings, and they were the best I've ever eaten. Not greasy, nor overly salty. Just crunchy, oniony, fried heaven. I suppose in diner-speak, this meal may be considered a "tube steak and lube job." Get your mind out of the gutter, tube steak is another phrase for hot dog and a plate of onion rings should be an indulgence taken no more often than you get the oil changed in your car.

Nikki's onion rings by Lucy Mercer/A Cook and Her Books

Hot dogs are not typical home food for my family- I have young children and hot dogs are a staple of restaurant kids' menus - we eat enough nitrites and nitrates as it is. But, when I do make chili slaw dogs at home, I'd buy high-quality franks and buns and make this chili.

Chili with Beans

1 pound lean ground beef
1 onion, chopped
1 (6 oz.) can tomato paste
2 (15 oz.) cans chili beans or red kidney beans
1 (14. 5 oz.) can diced tomatoes
1/2 cup water
1/4 teaspoon black pepper
1 teaspoon salt
1 tablespoon chili powder

1. In a large pan, cook beef until browned thoroughly. Remove from heat. Pour grease from pan.

2. Add onion and a tablespoon or two of water and cook until soft. Add tomato paste and stir about two minutes. Add beans, tomatoes, water and seasonings and stir completely. Let simmer about 30 minutes.

(adapted from the back of the Bush's beans can.)

For the topping, I make my usual slaw but add a spoonful of sugar. Coarsely shred cabbage, then dress with mayonnaise thinned with a bit of pickle juice, salt and pepper.

Images & Text © 2010, Lucy Mercer.

Miss Abbey by Lucy Mercer/A Cook and Her Books