Serenbe has a way of turning renters into residents.

Two years ago, Frances’ job brought her to Atlanta for a few months and they put her up in a high rise in the city. The location didn’t feel right, so she found a real estate agent and explained what she wanted. The agent brought Frances to Serenbe, she loved it, rented a house and became good friends with the owner.

When she returned to rent the house again a year later, it was for sale with some very interested buyers. Since Frances wasn’t able to rent it, she bought it. And we had a little potluck to welcome her back home.

The guest list was a mixture of meat eaters and vegans, so I made roasted pork butt and a lima bean salad with pear relish. Why pear relish? Because that’s what caught my eye when I opened the refrigerator. The limas were frozen, but I have not one thing against frozen beans—they’re one of the few foods that freeze well.

All the guests brought dessert, including a beautiful berry clafoutis and cupcakes with berries that had been macerated in sauterne. But the lima bean salad plate was licked completely clean. Sometimes the best salads are created between the freezer and the fridge.

Lima Bean Salad

• 4 cups cooked lima beans
• 2 cups fresh corn kernels
• 1 cup Vidalia or sweet onion, diced
• 1 to 1 ½ cup pear relish
• Kosher salt

Mix all ingredients in a bowl and salt to taste. Let sit for an hour in the refrigerator to let the flavors mingle, then serve at room temperature.

I wrote last week about my Camp Serenbe cooking class full of eager young chefs who picked, chopped and whisked the week away with me. They were so incredibly precious with their cookie sheets and mise en place all ready to go.

After we did the tomato sauce and cheese soufflé on Monday and Tuesday, we spent Wednesday making a salad bar. They picked carrots in the garden at the Inn and created their own vinaigrettes with oils and vinegars.

The next day, it was time to talk dessert. The kids went into the Grange hamlet and picked blueberries for a blueberry cobbler from the bushes planted near the crosswalks. Then I asked how many of the kids had made their own whipped cream. We talked about the kind of whipped cream you can buy in a can—or, as I like to call it, That Which Shall Not Be Named—and I laid down my cardinal rule: If you can’t pronounce the words on it, don’t eat it.

So we made our own and wound up with so much of it that there was nothing else to do but go outside and have a whipped cream painting party. Some kids put it all over their entire face and bodies. Some just did a mustache. Some didn’t want it touching them at all. Some were throwing it at each other. But it was just one of those Auntie Mame moments—oh hell, let’s just do this. Sure, it would’ve been easier (and cleaner) to stay in the kitchen, but those kids left with big smiles—and freshly whipped cream—on their faces.

Blueberry Cobbler

• 1 cup sugar
• ½ cup butter
• 1 cup flour
• 1 ½ teaspoons baking powder
• ½ teaspoon kosher salt
• 1 cup milk
• 2 cups blueberries

Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Slice butter and put it in a baking dish to cook in the oven until butter is melted. Mix together all the dry ingredients and then add milk. Pour batter into the melted butter then scatter fruit around. Bake for 30 minutes to 1 hour until middle is set.

Note: Several types of fruit can be used for this recipe. Sliced strawberries, blueberries or sliced peaches can be added raw. If using apples, peel, slice and cook in skillet with ¼ cup butter and 2 tablespoons brown sugar until soft.

When my daughter Kara approached me about doing a farm-to-table cooking class for Camp Serenbe, I agreed. But not without some trepidation.

How was I going to occupy 14 hungry children, ages 8-13, for four days? And was I really going to give them knives?

I needn’t have worried. We had an absolute blast. They were all so well behaved and every time they cracked an egg or stirred a roux it was a new, exciting adventure. Plus, I can’t deny how good it felt to have all those adoring eyes looking at me like I was the most amazing chef ever.

By the end of the week, I wanted them to understand how to make a complete meal. The first day was about knife skills, so they picked basil and tomatoes at The Inn at Serenbe, then came back and chopped. We added some extra virgin olive oil, garlic, salt and pepper and made them into a beautiful uncooked tomato sauce.

On the second day, they went to Many Fold Farm, a nearby family-owned farm that produces organic eggs and fresh sheep cheeses. When they returned, we sat down with 15 dozen eggs and learned how to separate them. Once they mastered that, we whipped them up and added them to a cheese soufflé. People are mystified by soufflés, but nothing could be simpler. It’s much harder to get everyone to pronounce “croissant” correctly.

Stayed tuned for next week’s post about homemade blueberry cobbler and what we did with five quarts of fresh whipped cream.

Fresh Tomato Sauce

from Joy of Cooking

Makes enough for 1 pound of pasta

•  5 large, ripe tomatoes, seeded and finely diced
• ½ cup fresh basil leaves, finely chopped
• 3 tablespoons extra virgin olive oil
• 2 cloves garlic, finely minced
• Salt and ground black pepper to taste.

Drain the tomatoes in a colander for 20 minutes. Remove them to a large bowl and stir in the rest of the ingredients. Let stand for at least 30 minutes. Serve the sauce at room temperature. If serving over hot pasta, sprinkle each portion with 1 to 2 teaspoons of balsamic vinegar.

Fannie Farmer’s Cheese Soufflé

• 2 tablespoons butter
• 3 tablespoons flour
• ½ cup scalded milk
• ½ teaspoon salt
• Few grains cayenne
• ½ cup grated Cheddar cheese
• 3 eggs, separated

Melt the butter, add the flour, and when well mixed gradually add the scalded milk. Then add the salt, cayenne and cheese. Remove from the heat.

Beat the egg yolks until lemon-colored and add them to the mixture.

Beat the egg whites stiff, but not dry. Cool the mixture and fold in the egg whites.

Pour into a buttered 1 ½ quart mold and bake 30 to 45 minutes at 375 degrees

When chef Chris Hastings and I paired up on an auction item for the TumTum Tree Foundation—a non-profit that provides funds for children’s charities across Alabama—everyone assumed we’d do Southern food.

But we both cook Southern for a living and wanted to do something different. “What should we cook, Marie?” Chris asked. I said, “Let’s do Italian.”

It doesn’t exactly come out of left field: Before he opened Hot and Hot Fish Club, Chris was the executive chef at Bottega, Frank Stitt’s iconic Italian restaurant in Birmingham.

Chris was all over it and I was just as excited, though we could’ve been making peanut butter and jelly sandwiches for all I cared. I just adore Chris and, though we donated the dinner to the foundation, getting to hang out with him was like giving a gift to myself.

No assistants, no nothing—just me and Chris and a bunch of fantastic food in my kitchen. The guests—who also did an overnight stay at The Inn—hung out with us and we all sat down together to eat in my backyard.

We did two pastas: The tagliatelle with chanterelles and another with pesto, arugula and pistachios. We made salad with warm balsamic vinaigrette. Chris did an Alabama lamb with ratataouille, whole roasted gulf snapper with shrimp and a beautiful plum swirl sorbetto with biscotti.

But that’s not all. We started with a huge platter of Chris’ cured meats and this brushcetta with cheese from nearby Many Fold Farm. It’s savory, sweet and a simple way to start off any Italian dinner.

Bruschetta with Goat Cheese, Caramelized Onions and Honey

• 8 pieces crusty bread, sliced ½-inch thick
• 1 cup Brebis or soft mild goat cheese
• 1/4 cup + 2 tablespoons mild olive oil
• Honey
• 3 tablespoons butter
• 2 ½ pounds onions, sliced thin
• 2 teaspoons sugar
• Salt and pepper

In a large skillet, melt the butter and 2 tablespoons of olive oil over medium-high heat. Add the onions and ¼ teaspoon each salt and pepper. Cook, stirring constantly, until the onions begin to soften, about five minutes.

Stir in the sugar and cook, scraping the browned bits off the bottom of the pan frequently, until the onions are golden brown, about 20 minutes.

Toast bread over a wood fire or under a broiler. Pour a bit of the olive oil on each slice.

Spread cheese on slices, then spoon a bit of onions on each. Drizzle with honey. Garnish with edible flowers, if desired.