When I think of Anne Quatrano, I think of her foie gras. Sure, I think of our friendship, her dry wit and annual visits to the ‘Be for the Southern Chefs Series, but mostly I think of her foie gras at Bacchanalia. It’s the best in the city.

Anne has a way of making food taste exquisitely delicious and look like art—both are equally important to her. So I had to laugh when I read her recipe for Wood Oven-Roasted Whole Foie Gras in her gorgeous cookbook, Summerland.

She walks readers through the process of marinating the whole lobe of foie gras in dessert wine, then roasting it in a pan lined with fresh figs. In the very last sentence, she writes, “Present immediately to your guests in the roasting pan for them to admire, then transfer to a warm platter … .”

Anne has such a style. And a fun flair for the dramatic.

Join Anne and me January 24 and 25 for another installment of the Southern Chefs Series. So much to learn, cook, eat and, of course, admire.

Space is limited to 10 participants per class. $695 includes preparing and eating dinner on Sunday and lunch on Monday with the chef, plus an overnight stay at the Inn at Serenbe. To register, call the Inn at 770.463.2610.

Wood Oven-Roasted Whole Foie Gras

• Courtesy of Summerland
• Serves 4 to 6

• 1 whole lobe (1 ½ pounds) foie gras
• 1 (375 ml) bottle sweet or dessert wine
• 1 tablespoon kosher salt
• Freshly cracked pepper
• 1 pound fresh figs (12 to 14), stems removed and halved
• 4 sprigs fresh rosemary
• 4 sprigs fresh thyme

Place the foie gras in a baking dish and generously douse with the wine. Season with the salt and refrigerate, covered with plastic wrap, for 12 to 24 hours.

Allow the foie gras to come to room temperature (about 1 hour). Preheat a wood oven or conventional oven to 500 degrees F.

Re-season the foie gras with a sprinkling of salt and pepper. Pour off any remaining wine marinade and reserve. Score the lobe on the diagonal, at 1/8-inch intervals, to make a cross-hatch pattern. Line a roasting pan with the fresh figs, rosemary and thyme sprigs, then set the foie gras on top.

Brush the foie gras with the reserved marinade and add about ¼ cup to the bottom of pan. Roast for about 15 minutes. Keep a careful eye on it and rotate and baste it with the marinade and rendered fat from the pan every 2 minutes. If the foie appears to be browning too quickly, loosely tent the top with aluminum foil.

After about 15 minutes, the internal temperature should reach 135 degrees F. Present immediately to your guests in the roasting pan for them to admire, then transfer to a warm platter and garnish with the figs and sprigs of herbs from the pan.

Steve mentioned about a month ago that he wanted to entertain one of our new neighbors and some mutual friends at the house. I wasn’t feeling all that adventurous, so I went with what I call some of my safe dishes, including a big bag of turnip and ginger soup I had in the freezer.

Now you see, this is exactly why I love soup. There is absolutely nothing wrong with defrosting a big bag of it, warming it through and serving it at a dinner party. No one is going deduct points for lack of effort … or know the damn difference.

I also resurrected my chicken with goat cheese and red pepper jelly recipe, which I hadn’t done in a long time, and sautéed some savoy cabbage from Serenbe Farms on the side.

But dessert stumped me a bit. As you’ve likely read here many times, it’s not my specialty and I’m perfectly fine with store-bought as long as the other courses are homemade. But then I remembered this pretty package of locally made ginger cookies from The Cookie Studio I’d seen at The General Store and decided to do something a little holiday-ish.

I took a James Beard cream pie recipe I love and substituted eggnog for the half-and-half. Then, instead of filling a pie crust, I put a big dollop of the eggnog custard on top of a gingersnap cookie, topped it with another cookie and put fresh whipped cream on top and a little grated nutmeg.

I felt a little off and like it wasn’t one of my better dinners, but everyone raved about the dessert. I thought they were being overly generous, but it really was delicious — and a fantastic example of what happens when a little homemade and a little store-bought come together.

Happy Holidays, friends.

Eggnog Custard

• ¾ cup sugar
• 7 tablespoons flour
• ¼ teaspoon salt
• 2 eggs
• 3 cups eggnog, scalded
• 12 large ginger cookies
• ½ cup heavy cream, whipped
• Crystallized ginger pieces
• Freshly grated nutmeg

Mix together the sugar, flour, salt and eggs. Slowly stir in the eggnog. Return the mixture to low heat, and stir constantly until it begins to boil. Reduce the heat to simmer and continue to stir and cook 2 to 3 minutes. Remove from the heat. Cool to room temperature.

To assemble:

Place large cookie on individual plates. Spoon desired amount of custard on each cookie. Top with another cookie. Put a dollop of whipped cream on cookie and top with ginger and fresh grated nutmeg if desired.

We just rolled out the line-up for Serenbe’s 2016 culinary experiences and I am amazed at how much Matt Adolfi, our chef-in-residence (and Garnie’s boyfriend), has brought to the table. He’ll do a seasonal cooking class called Right Off the Farm starting in January and Cooking with CSA, an April-October class focused on making the most of your farm share.

But that’s just the half of it. In addition to his behind-the-scenes work at Serenbe concepts and restaurants, Matt has teamed up with Michael Taylor, Garnie’s best friend from Cornell and Serenbe resident, to bring pop-up dinners to our community.

Shortly after they had the idea, they approached me and asked, “Mama Marie, how do we make it pretty?” I immediately reached out to Serenbe resident David Widmer, who was the vice president of visual merchandising for Macy’s for two decades. David’s the kind of person who can turn a few votives and a stack of popsicle sticks into a gorgeous tabletop.

Matt and Michael wanted to host the dinner out in the woods. I said, really boys? Where are the bathrooms? How will you set up to cook? This ain’t Mama Marie’s first rodeo, so let’s be practical and have it at my house.

What started as a fun fall dinner turned into a seated meal for 50 people in my backyard—the biggest seated dinner party I’ve ever hosted. David’s décor was wonderfully haunting. It’s amazing what you can do with a few cobwebs, candlesticks and owls.

Matt and Michael put out four courses, starting with foie gras and ending with madeleines and Mason jars full of chocolate fondue. It was a riff off the shell-shaped cakes served at the end of every meal at Bacchanalia, his former employer. And this recipe comes straight from Anne Quatrano’s Summerland, Bacchanalia chef/owner’s gorgeous cookbook.

Madeleines

• Makes 12 little cakes
• ½ cup (1 stick) butter
• 2 large eggs
• ¾ cup granulated sugar
• 1 teaspoon finely grated orange zest
• 1 teaspoon finely grated lemon zest
• ¼ teaspoon pure vanilla extract
• ¼ teaspoon kosher salt
• 1 cup all-purpose flour
• 1 teaspoon baking powder
• Confectioners’ sugar, for dusting

Melt the butter in a medium saucepan and hold it warm over very low heat. In a large bowl, whisk together the eggs, granulated sugar, orange and lemon zests, vanilla and salt. Add the flour and baking powder and whisk together. Gradually stir in the melted butter until incorporated. Scoop the batter into a pastry piping bag fitted with a ½-inch round tip or a large plastic storage bag with one corner snipped. (The batter can be refrigerated in the piping bag for plastic bag for up to 2 days.)

Preheat the oven to 325 degrees F. Coat 12 molds of a madeleine pan with nonstick cooking spray—we use it even with nonstick pans as the madeleines tend to stick.

Pipe the batter into the prepared molds, filling each about halfway. Bake for 6 to 8 minutes; they should be golden brown and a toothpick inserted will come out clean. They should release from the pans easily.

In a perfect world, these would come out of the oven and be served directly to your guests. (We make them all night to ensure they are hot and crisp). But you may bake them in advance and store the cooled cakes in an airtight container at room temperature for up to 2 days. Then reheat in a 325 degrees F oven for a couple of minutes. Just before serving, dust with confectioners’ sugar.

In the Nygren family, our lives revolve around restaurants. I grew up in them, Steve owned a slew of them and now we oversee a few at Serenbe. They’re where we have meetings, catch up with friends and experience local cuisine whenever we travel. So for us, a special meal is a home cooked meal. And when I asked Steve how he wanted to celebrate his 70^thbirthday, it came as no surprise that he asked for a family dinner at home.

The secret to a special birthday celebration is to shower the guest of honor with love. Sounds simple, but so many get sidetracked by tablescapes, cakes and whether or not the bathroom sink is clean. What’s important is that everyone is together and Steve was thrilled that all three girls (and their respective men) were around the table.

Technically, Matt was in the kitchen with me making profiteroles with ice cream and chocolate sauce, Caesar salad, roasted Brussels sprouts, pomme frites, béarnaise and roasted beef tenderloin. Here’s another secret: a great tenderloin starts with ground porcini powder. Get a good, grass-fed piece of meat that’s been cleaned well by a butcher, rub it with olive oil and generous amounts of porcini powder, kosher salt and pepper.

Matt also made a pate de foie gras that paired nicely with the Champagne we used to toast Steve. I started by talking about my love and admiration of him then the chain of toasts spontaneously went around the room to the small group of friends and family.

We each said what was in our heart and Karen Fitzgerald, who Steve and I consider our adopted sister, gave him three metaphorical gifts in the theme of him being a man of vision: binoculars for his ability to see long-range; a lamp because he shows others the way and a small painting of the third eye, for his internal sight.

We all bring gifts to the table. Some bring food, others bring gifts or words. That night, we all brought ourselves—our full, present selves—and the older you get, the more you realize that’s enough.

Roasted Filet or Tenderloin of Beef – High Temperature Method

For most, Thanksgiving is a time to gather with friends and family in a delicious haze of good food and gratitude. For the Nygren family, Thanksgiving has historically been a time to travel (when the girls were off school for the holiday) or work (serving countless plates stuffed with stuffing at The Inn).

But this year, for the first time ever, Steve and I hosted Thanksgiving in our home.  

Garnie was with Matt’s family and Kara was with Micah’s, so we celebrated with Quinn, her boyfriend Lucas and his parents, who recently moved from upstate New York to Tennessee in search of kinder, gentler winters.

Lucas is the newest addition to our lives—the third in a wonderful group of young men our daughters have brought home. He’s Matt’s childhood best friend and former roommate, having moved in with Matt when his company brought him to Atlanta. When Matt moved to Serenbe, Lucas sought out his own spot in the community, which is only 20 minutes away from his job. Lucas is a regional sales manager for a concrete company and an instinctual, self-taught cook who made a mighty fine companion in the kitchen on Thanksgiving.

Steve and Quinn piled up in the Gator with Lucas’ parents for a tour of Serenbe while Lucas and I tag teamed the sweet potato soufflé, loaded smashed potatoes, Brussels sprouts with prosciutto and organic, free-range turkey, which I got from the General Store at Serenbe, only to find out it was from Plainville, New York—just a few miles from Lucas’ hometown.

Lucas brined it overnight with onions, garlic and herbes de Provence and we stuffed it the next day with shallots, garlic and apples then roasted it with butter and more herbes. We also did a gluten-free cornbread dressing for his father, and I was surprised how well it turned out with rice flour.

In honor of our guests, I wanted to have something inherently Southern on the table, so I did collard greens in a sauce with lemon, onion and butter. It’s Quinn’s favorite and a thirty-five-minute take on the traditional five-hour process.

Collards with Lemon Onion Butter Sauce

• Serves 4

•  2 quarts collard greens, stemmed and chopped
• 1/2 cup water
• 1 pound unsalted butter
• 1 cup yellow onions finely chopped
• 1/4 to 1/3 cup fresh lemon juice
• 2 tablespoons kosher salt

In a large pot with a lid, melt the butter add onions, stir and cook for 30 minutes. Add lemon juice and salt then stir in collards and add water. Bring to a boil, then turn heat down to low and cover for 5 minutes.

Remove cover, stir collards and cook for another 5 minutes. Season to taste with salt.

There’s a lot more going on at Serenbe than meets the eye. In addition to our arts and culture scene, resident life, vacationers and visitors to the Inn and hundreds of weddings, Serenbe also draws meetings and conventions from all over the country.

The National Pecan Shellers Association recently chose Serenbe as their spot to bring together top chefs in the field of large-scale production—corporate chefs, caterers, etc.—to discuss pecans and come up with new dishes.

And lucky me: I got to judge their cooking contest. Each of the three teams had a mystery bag full of ingredients that they had to use to create an appetizer, main dish, side and dessert.

I was blown away with the level of creativity that went into things like chai soba noodles with chopped lettuce and pecans, pecanwood-smoked tenderloin and an absolutely amazing pecan burger. Atlanta’s own Carolyn O’Neil, a registered dietitian and food writer, made a pecan mojito with fresh ginger ale, lime LaCroix water and mint and Kami Rose of Kami Rose Baking Company made this bread pudding studded with pecans and dried fruits.

Instead of cow’s milk, she moistened the day-old bread with milk that had been steeped with pecans overnight. You can skip that step, but it’s worth the extra time for the subtle nuttiness throughout. This dish makes a wonderful addition to the brunch table or an exquisite Thanksgiving dessert for those who aren’t partial to pumpkin pie.

Seared Sweet Pecan Bread Pudding

• Courtesy of Kami Rose of Kami Rose Baking Company

• 1 quart heavy cream
• 4 whole eggs
• 2 cups white sugar
• 2 teaspoon vanilla extract
• 2 teaspoon kosher salt
• 1 tablespoon cinnamon
• 2 cups milk or pecan milk (recipe follows)
• 1 cup dried cranberries
• 1 ½ cups small pecan pieces
• 1 cup golden raisins
• Day-old bread, torn (1 ½ baguette; 10-15 small dinner rolls; or 8-10 large croissants)

1.     Whisk heavy cream, eggs, sugar, vanilla extract, kosher salt, cinnamon and milk in a medium-sized bowl.

2.     Add torn bread, nuts and dried fruits to the mixture. Using your hands, begin work and mash the bread mixture together to ensure the liquid is thoroughly soaking through each bread piece.

3.     Cover bowl with cling wrap and store in cooler overnight.

4.     Unwrap and, using a wooden spoon, turn mixture to re-incorporate any loose liquids. Pour into a greased large casserole baking dish.

5.     Bake at 325 degrees F for 40-50 minutes or until center is no longer jiggly and top of pudding is golden brown.

6.     Pull from oven and let cool 1 hour. Serve immediately with maple syrup for a brunch item or with ice cream and caramel sauce as a dessert.

Pecan milk: 

• 2 cups medium pecan pieces
• 2 ½ cups water

1.     Combine pecan pieces and water in a bowl and store overnight in a refrigerator.

2.     Remove and put into a food processor. Pour through a strainer into a pitcher.

3.     Discard what is left in the strainer, or use in other recipes, like muffins, pancakes or oatmeal.

When most chefs do cooking demonstrations, they make dishes they know well to ensure everything goes smoothly. But I love experimenting on people, being in the moment and fixing mistakes on the fly if need be. So when I cooked for a sold-out crowd recently at the Atlanta Botanical Garden, the only thing I cared about being smooth was the turnip and ginger soup.

And was it ever. One of the participants said it was the smoothest soup he’d ever tasted. What makes this soup special is that it sits well, freezes beautifully and tastes better after a few days in the fridge. It’s a serious contender for the Dinner Party Hall of Fame.

It all starts with sautéing scallions in butter.  I am not a green onion snob, separating the green parts from the white—they’re all perfectly good. They cook down until brown and flavor the chopped turnips and fresh ginger root that get added to the pot. Serenbe Farms manager Ashley Rodgers’ ginger has a wonderful pungency and skin so thin you can almost peel it off with your fingernail.

While the green onions, turnips and ginger cook in vegetable stock until tender, I blanched the turnip greens quickly in a cup of stock in a separate bowl, then drained off the stock and chopped them up. The soup got a solid spin in the Vitamix and returned to the pot, where I added the chopped greens for texture and color.

It was perfect, as things that start with 8 tablespoons of butter often are.

Turnip and Ginger Soup

• 8 tablespoons unsalted butter
• 1 bunch green onions, chopped
• 6 cups turnips, chopped
• 2 tablespoons fresh ginger, chopped
• 6 cups vegetable stock
• 2 cups turnip greens, julienned
• Hot sauce
• Kosher salt

Melt the butter and add green onion. Saute over medium heat until wilted. Add turnips, ginger and five cups of stock. Bring to a boil then reduce to a low simmer. Cook turnips and ginger until fork tender. Add the soup to a blender and puree. Return to the pot and add hot sauce. Taste to season with salt.

In a separate pan, bring the remaining cup of stock to a boil, reduce the heat then blanch the greens briefly. Drain off liquid, chop blanched greens, add to the soup and serve.

When Maya Angelou died, 1,000 people found comfort in Art Smith’s fried chicken after her memorial service. He’s whipped up batches for everyone from politicians and peacemakers to celebrities the world over, including his former employer, Ms. Oprah Winfrey. And last Sunday night, he made the same fabulous fried fowl in my kitchen, as part of his visit for the Southern Chefs Series.

He brined the birds for a few hours, double dipped them in the breading and fried them up in a mixture of oil and lard. I just happened to have a few cups of lard in my refrigerator and added a little to the oil. He saw me and shook his head, took the jar from my hand and scooped out every last bit of that lard into the oil.

That’s my kind of chef.

The chicken was unbelievable. I devoured two pieces while listening to Art give all the credit to the lard. It was like an old-school tent revival for rendered pork fat.

This was Art’s first visit and I loved everything about him. Despite all his celebrity connections and personal accomplishments—cookbooks, TV appearances and many restaurants, including Homecoming, a new spot opening in Orlando’s Disney Springs this summer—Art is pure sincerity. To him, food is love and he wants to give out as much as he can. And let me tell you, the participants and I were very well loved. Even Steve said, “Damn, that was some good food.”

He did shrimp and grits, goat cheese drop biscuits, a Brussels sprouts salad and chicken and dumplings soup with fresh dumplings he rolled out with an actual rolling pin.

 To use Art’s words: Lord Jesus. It was slap-your-mama good. I don’t redo a lot of the recipes I see at these demonstrations, but I’m making that one again. Soon.

Addie Mae Chicken and Dumpling Soup

• Ingredients

• One 3- to 3 ½-pound chicken, cut into 8 pieces
• 2 celery ribs, chopped
• 1 medium onion, chopped
• 2 carrots, medium dice
• 2 quarts water
• Salt and freshly ground black pepper

•  Dumplings

• 1 ½ cups all-purpose flour
• Pinch of salt
•  ½ cup plus 1 Tbsp. water
• 1 Tbsp. canola oil
• 2 Tbsp. chopped fresh parsley, for garnish

Directions

Place the chicken, onion, celery and carrots in a 5-quart Dutch oven or covered casserole dish, and add the water, ½ teaspoon salt and ¼ teaspoon pepper. Bring to a boil over high heat, skimming off any foam that rises to the surface. Reduce, occasionally skimming the broth, until the chicken is tender, about 50 minutes.

Using tongs, transfer the chicken to a platter (keep the broth and vegetables simmering) and cool it until it’s easy to handle. Discard the skin and bones and cut the meat into bite-size pieces.

Meanwhile, increase the heat under the broth to high and cook until the liquid is reduced to 6 cups. (If you’re in a hurry, strain the broth, reserving the vegetables, and measure 6 cups of broth, reserving the remaining broth for another use. Return the 6 cups of broth and vegetables to the pot.) Skim off any fat from the surface of the broth. Stir the chicken back into the pot. Season to taste with salt and pepper.

To make the dumplings, place the flour, salt and oil in a medium bowl and gradually stir in the water to make stiff dough. Turn out onto a lightly floured surface and knead briefly. Roll out ¼ inch thick. Using a sharp knife, cut the dough into 1-inch-wide strips. Slide the strips into the simmering soup, placing them next to each other without stacking or crowding. Cover tightly and reduce the heat to low. Simmer until the dumplings are cooked through and tender, about 10 minutes.

Four days after Kara’s last wedding guest left, I boarded a plane to the UK. I’d devoted most of my energy over the summer to two things—Inn renovation and the wedding—and this trip could not have come at a better time. Travel always invigorates me.

Steve was by my side, determined not to let me visit The Pig again without him. I first read about the “restaurant with rooms” in a travel magazine in 2011 and have been completely captivated during the three visits I’ve made since. It’s in the New Forest, my favorite area in all of England, and is the epitome of English cottage style in that incredibly comfortable, non-ostentatious way.

They’re known for their kitchen garden, which is the most exquisite I’ve ever seen. The energy is wonderful, the staff is precious and the grounds are absolutely gorgeous—some of the trees have to be 800 years old.

Steve snapped pictures like crazy. And every time he did, I’d say I’ve shown you my pictures of this before. To which he’d reply, “Yes, but now I’m seeing it for myself.” He was completely blown away and I could see his mind cataloging ideas to bring back to Serenbe.

After a few days of quaint English splendor, we traveled on to Bradford-Upon-Avon to see Woolley Grange, the B&B we stayed in during our first trans-Atlantic trip with the girls in 1993. Years ago, travel wasn’t nearly as child-friendly as it is now and Woolley Grange had a whole building dedicated to entertaining children plus child-friendly menus at the restaurant. Our girls played with the owners’ children, picked vegetables in their garden and felt at home.

At the time, we still lived in Atlanta and visited our Chattahoochee Hill Country property on the weekends. Woolley Grange’s owners left London’s rat race for the country with their family and their path served as one of the inspirations for the Inn and Serenbe. We moved to our property full-time a year after our stay.

It was interesting to revisit.  The food was delicious—head and shoulders above the ultra-chic but underwhelming 25-mile menu we had at The Pig. But 22 years later, the space was tired and needed refreshed. And once again, Woolley Grange inspired Steve and I—this time to be mindful of the need for a keen eye.

We said a fond farewell to Woolley Grange and I left for Scotland sans Steve, who headed home. Check back next week for more about the land of Peter Pan, the sculpture of Andy Goldsworthy and the Green of Scotland—yes it really is that green.

When the organizers of Serenbe’s weekly Farmers and Artisan Market told me it was time to do another chef demo, I immediately called Ashley Rodgers, manager of Serenbe Farms, and said, “Whatcha got?”

Ashley said she had lots of fresh ginger, turnips and Asian greens.

Now remember: I’m the daughter of the grand dame of Southern cooking. When it comes to greens, I know mustard, turnip and collard greens a lot better than mizuna, yukina savoy and komatasuma. Dealing with unfamiliar ingredients might feel scary to some, but to me, cooking is like playing. Those Asian greens were my new toy and I wanted to learn how to have fun with them.

So I turned the turnips and ginger into an exquisitely delicious soup. And instead of cooking the greens, I decided to treat them like lettuces. I washed and gently tore them apart and headed to the store to look for vinaigrette inspiration, which I found in a bottle of sorghum.

To me, sorghum means fall. A lot of people don’t use the sweet syrup made from grassy grain, but it’s a good base for lots of things. Instead of honey, I mixed the sorghum with lemon and orange juice for the vinaigrette. It also inspired me to roast some fresh pears for the salad with a little sorghum and pinch of salt on top.

Then I got a pork loin from Double T farms and let it sit overnight in a mustard-soy marinade. The next morning I took it out, let it come up to room temperature, cooked it, sliced it and served it at room temperature on top of the Asian greens and pears.

The same thing that made this dish perfect for the demo also makes it a great for dinner parties: Everything can be made ahead. Washing the greens, making the vinaigrette, marinating the pork—even the soup can be made the day before. You have a first and second course, so pick up dessert somewhere and be done with it. You’ve made two of the three things—who says you have to make everything?

In the middle of the demo, I realized I had a little more vinaigrette left so I threw it on top of the pork, which needed a little more oomph. And then it was perfect. Two key ingredients you’ll never find in any recipe but are essential to a good meal: spontaneity and oomph.

Soy Mustard Pork Loin, Asian Greens and Sorghum Citrus Vinaigrette

• 1/4 cup soy sauce
• 1/4 cup canola oil
• 2 tablespoons Dijon mustard
• 3 tablespoons fresh lemon juice
• 2 lb pork loin

Mix first four ingredients. Place pork loin in a Ziploc bag. Pour liquid mixture over, close tightly and place in refrigerator to marinate overnight.

Take pork from refrigerator several hours before roasting to bring to room temperature.

Heat oven to 375. Remove pork from marinade, reserving the marinade and place pork on roasting pan. Place in oven. Roast pork for 25-30 min. Remove from oven, reheat marinade to boiling and pour over pork. Let sit 30 -45 min to rest. Slice and serve.

Asian greens

• 6-8 cups mixture of mizuna, yukina savoy and komatasuma, washed and spun dried

 Vinaigrette

• 1 cup fresh orange juice
• 1/4 cup fresh lemon juice
• 2 tablespoons sorghum
• 2 teaspoons Dijon mustard
• 6 tablespoons peanut oil
• Kosher salt

Add first five ingredients in jar and shake. Season to taste with salt.

To assemble:

Set out a large serving platter. Toss greens with vinaigrette. Place on platter. Then place pork on side of greens. Serve.