Louisville food writers share 6 dishes that remind us of home this holiday season

Wherever we live, however much of a “foodie” we may become, there are certain dishes that transport us to another place: namely, home. These foods may be humble in the sense that they aren’t fancy chef creations, but they speak to the heart.

I found myself thinking a lot about foods that mean home after hosting a couple of dinner parties in Paris recently for a primarily expat crowd. The dishes my co-host Alison Settle made were certainly elevated creations, but they were also pure comfort, and our diners compared her cooking to a hug.

So with the holidays ahead and many of us planning time back home (wherever that may be!), I asked some fellow writers what food they think of first when they think of home.

Dana McMahan: bank teller orange/cranberry dip

Dana is the freelance dining columnist at the Courier Journal

One time after a holiday weekend, my husband Brian and I left my parents' home in Somerset (near Lake Cumberland) and made it about five minutes down the dark road before asking each other why we didn’t just stay another night.

The lure? A rousing game of Rook (a card game that goes back generations in my family), and — as if not more important — my mom's irresistible dip.

It’s so irresistible I sometimes ask her to not make it because once I start, I truly can't stop eating until I scrape up every last bit of the dip.

We turned around, headed back, and within minutes were gathered around the table shooting the moon (if you know Rook, you know!) and dipping pretzels in that dip on repeat.

When I asked my mom for the recipe, it came as no surprise there was not one, per se. She had the dip years ago at their bank’s Christmas open house and begged the recipe from the teller who made it. She's been making it since and hasn’t looked at the recipe since probably the first time. But it's an easy enough creation to wing it based on taste according to the directions she shared. Fair warning: the sweet/tangy/savory combo won’t let you stop either.

Orange Cranberry Dip

• Box of cream cheese, room temperature

• Half a cup of dried cranberries

• 1/4 cup powdered sugar

• 1/4 cup of pecans

• Orange juice concentrate, at least a quarter cup, to taste.

Mix it all up, and serve with Ritz crackers or pretzels.

Kathryn Gregory: pasta e fagioli (bean soup)

Kathryn is the Business, Features & Lifestyle Editor at the Courier Journal

I can still remember exactly how the kitchen smelled when my grandfather would stand at the stove making his famous (to me) bean soup — the fragrant garlic, the sweetness of the tomato sauce, and the herbaceous scent of the basil. He used the same thick-bottomed pot each time and when my grandparents passed away, that was one of the most coveted items in their household.

Growing up in a half-Italian household in the suburbs just north of New York City meant we ate a lot of good, authentic Italian food. And in my family, my grandfather, Frank, was the cook. My mother, Elena, learned from him and dishes like chicken Parmesan and lasagna were common as a child. But nothing compares to the comfort that is bean soup. Most people know it as Pasta e fagioli, but for me, it's synonymous with home.

It isn't anything fancy and, like many of the best handed-down-through-the-generations family dishes, there's no "real" recipe. So much of it is by feel. Essentially, it's beans, tomato sauce, spices, and pasta. Anyone can make it, but no one can make it like my grandfather. Even my mom’s version, which she has left stocked in my freezer every time I have moved to a new city or home, doesn't quite compare.

When I went away to college, I always made it a point to have lunch with my grandparents when I was home on breaks, even if it was just for a weekend. And at least half the time, I’d show up at their house in Connecticut, and my grandfather would be standing in the kitchen, in his slippers, stirring a pot of bean soup.

I can’t go back to that kitchen anymore, but this dish always makes me feel like I’ve come home.

Pasta e fagioli (Bean Soup)

Serves 4-6

• 4 cans of cannellini beans

• 1 small can (8 oz) of tomato sauce

• Fresh garlic (to taste)

• Dried parsley

• Dried oregano

• Fresh basil

• Olive oil

• Salt and pepper, to take

• 1 box of Ditalini pasta (any small-size pasta will work)

• Parmesan cheese

Cover the bottom of a large pot with olive oil. Slice up garlic and sauté in the oil without letting it brown.

Add one can of beans to the pot, then fill the can with water and add it to the pot. Repeat both steps with the remaining three cans of beans. Stir.

Add the can of tomato sauce then add 1/2 can of water to the pot, as well.

Add parsley, oregano, basil, salt, and pepper to pot, to taste. Stir.

Lower heat, cover and cook for about an hour until slightly thickened, but not too thick.

Meanwhile, in a separate pot, make pasta according to the box directions.

When the soup is ready, put a small amount of pasta in a bowl and then add the bean soup on top. Top with Parmesan cheese.

NOTE: Do not put the pasta in the soup pot as it will soak up all the water and get soggy. If you have leftover pasta, store it in a separate container from the leftover soup

Lindsey McClave: pimento cheese (aka the paté of the south)

Lindsey is the former food critic for the Courier Journal, and the Co-Host/Creator of The Farmer & The Foodie on KET

When I think of being home, particularly during the holidays, the memories I turn to most are not those surrounding the main event meals but rather all of the feasting moments in between. It isn’t a true holiday at my parent’s house without a whole, hot-smoked side of salmon at the center of the kitchen table, all of the traditional fixings ― cream cheese, diced red onion, capers, and the like ― encircling the heavily seasoned fish. It is placed out mid-morning and slowly disappears as we gather and graze, playing round after round of gin rummy.

Similarly, the first time I ever spent Thanksgiving with my husband’s family in Charleston, South Carolina, I found myself parked in front of a crock of "pate of the south," their signature pimento cheese recipe. It remains one of my favorite comfort foods and we gift small jars of this exceptional pimento cheese every Christmas.

• 12 ounces sharp cheddar cheese, freshly grated

• 3 ounces cream cheese, at room temperature

• 1/4 cup plus 2 tbsp full-fat mayonnaise

• 4 ounces pimentos, drained

• 1/2 tsp grated onion

• 1 tsp cayenne pepper

Place the cream cheese, mayonnaise, grated onion and cayenne in the bowl of a stand mixer fitted with the paddle attachment. Mix until combined and then add the pimentos, continuing to mix until well blended. Remove the bowl from the mixer and fold in the cheese. Once fully incorporated, transfer to jars and serve or refrigerate for up to one week. Makes 2 cups.

Susan Reigler, yeast rolls

Susan is the former dining columnist for the Courier Journal and is contributing writer at American Whiskey Magazine, and Past President of the Kentucky Chapter of Les Dames d'Escoffier International and The Bourbon Women Association

While she sometimes made them on other occasions, my mother always made her fragrant yeast rolls for Thanksgiving and for Christmas. I remember that the recipe involved letting the dough rise in a large porcelain bowl covered with a tea towel that she would set out on the chilly screened porch rather than use up space in the refrigerator. That real estate was reserved for larger foodstuffs such as the turkey or the standing rib roast.

The porch smelled enticingly of rising dough, which, when ready, Mom would roll into inch-wide balls and place two of each in the cups of a muffin tin. Hot, golden-topped rolls pulled apart to be slathered in butter. On the off chance that any were leftover, they could be toasted for what always seems to me a special holiday breakfast.

Lennie Omalza, loco moco

Lennie Omalza is a freelance journalist who writes for the Courier Journal, VOICE-TRIBUNE, StyleBlueprint, Chilled magazine, and Eater.com, among other publications.

Whenever I’m feeling homesick — or am planning my next trip back to Hawaii — a loco moco is what’s on my mind. The dish consists of rice, a hamburger patty, and an egg stacked up and smothered in gravy. It’s so simple, but I have yet to find a version that tastes just like it does back home. The one at Fresh Out the Box in Logan Street Market, 1001 Logan St., comes close, though — and there are SPAM musubis and poke bowls available, too.

Amanda Hancock, Grandma's biscuits

Amanda is the food and dining reporter for the Courier Journal

When I think of the holidays, I think of my grandmother. She’s the reason we had certain food traditions. She made sure I had my own pumpkin pie for my November birthday. Her mashed potatoes were the highlight of my Thanksgiving meal and often took up half my plate.

Also, decorated cookies on Christmas Eve Eve with homemade icing and lasagna shells for Christmas Eve dinner. A big breakfast on Christmas morning. My grandma, whom we all called Nannie, always wondered why we needed to order pizza later that day with so many leftovers in the fridge, but she allowed it and I’m sure had a slice while sitting by the fireplace.

A recipe for homemade biscuits is so special that it only comes out on Christmas morning. Whoever’s preparing them follows a recipe handwritten in elegant, yet scribbly cursive by my grandma’s mother, my great-grandmother, who both grew up in Estill County, Kentucky. I love thinking about how many people have enjoyed those biscuits over the past, I don’t know, almost 100 years.

And how we’ll keep making them once a year for many years to come.

Tell Dana! Send your restaurant “Dish” to Dana McMahan at thecjdish@gmail.com and follow @elleferafera on Instagram.

This article originally appeared on Louisville Courier Journal: Home for the holidays: comfort food dishes that remind us of a home