It began with boiled peanuts in Memphis.

Then, in Oxford, our nourishment shape-shifted into books.

Dad and I made a bee-line for Square Books—the bookstore of the South, mind you—no matter how many handsome blonde co-eds tried to drive me to distraction. Ol’ Miss boys don’t have anything on my Willie Morris or on the town’s other literary son, Faulkner.

Arms groaning with books, Dad and I hustle to the car to make our way deep into the heart of Dixie—Greenwood, Mississippi to be precise. The speakeasy-cum-restaurant, Lusco’s, awaits us. So does a perfectly mid-rare filet topped with jumbo lump crabmeat. And spinach soufflé. And golden-fried onion rings.

Oh, and it’ll also be nice to see Mamma, my 3 year-old niece and the rest of the family. Right, then there’s the bride and groom…

It’s just so hard to prioritize, focus my energies when faced with a weekend of deep-fried, catfish-heavy, cream cheese-laden, bourbon-soaked, unapologetically southern food.

Even my niece cleaned her plate—and she’s one tough critic. After driving to the wedding day brunch (all you do in Mississippi is drive, drive, drive), she was cranky, hungry, in need of some Southern sustenance. I understood her plight. We filled our bellies with creamy goat cheese grits, bacon and eggs. And, then, utterly content, Shelby and I played in the cotton fields.

Played in the cotton fields?

Yep, it’s a different world down there. And I think the only way to bring that slow, Southern heat to New York City is through my stove… 

I’m on Good Morning America NOW! Check out my Perfect Kentucky Derby Soiree. Yummm…

The Kentucky Derby is this Saturday. Don’t worry ladies–the “most exciting two minutes in sports” is about a whole lot more than sports.

Do you think I care about horses? Of course not!

But I love any semi-viable excuse to get glammed up, slip into the first sundress of the season and prance around in a big ol’ hat (think Jessica Simpson meets the royal family at Ascot). Oh, and there’s a drink called a Mint Julep…

So I’ve got a plan for all of y’all who aren’t headed to Churchill Downs and Millionaire’s Row.

First: Watch me tomorrow on Good Morning America NOW. (Pictured at left, in the ABC Times Square studios.) I teach New Yorkers a thing or two about bourbon and while Jamie shares his deeelish Derby Day eats. Think mint juleps, bourbon-cured salmon toasts with jicama slaw, gougeres filled with country ham cream… 

Second: Join me on Derby Day at “Bar K” (519 Hudson Street) for those two, sporting minutes that I mentioned earlier. We can laugh at the horse’s names (Pyro? Smooth Brown? Cool Coal Man? What?) and compare hats. Afterward, I’m headed to the James Beard House for the ultimate Kentucky Derby Dinner.

Third: You can’t get out of bed but you still want a nip of the Kentucky Nectar. Fine.

The Perfect Mint Julep

Courtesy of Adam Harris

1 teaspoon simple syrup
4 mint leaves
2 ounces Maker’s Mark bourbon
Mint sprigs
Powdered sugar (optional)

Begin with simple syrup and mint leaves in a silver julep cup, muddle to release the aroma of the mint. Add crushed ice, to fill the cup ½ way and pour in the bourbon and stir until frost forms on the outside of the glass. Add more crushed ice until it is mounded just over the top of the cup. Stick 3-4 bundles ofmint into the center of the ice and insert a straw through the mint all the way to the bottom of the cup. Cut the straw off about 2 inches above the mint and dust the top with powdered sugar. Sipping a julep should be a dual sensory experience- the short straw makes the nose fill the scent of mint while you taste the sweet bourbon.

Check out my recipe for basil, mint and petit pois pasta in Glam Girl Cookin’!

Ramps, pancetta and rigatoni for him. Why? Men love bacon fat, acrid flavors and easy-to-fork short pastas.

We girls get the clean, bright loveliness of basil, mint, petit pois, red-stemmed spinach and the tang of salty feta. It’s really just a salad with a handful of whole wheat ziti thrown in for ‘oomph.’

If Iwere Bette Midler in “What Women Want,” I’d say that men are from Mars, women are from Venus and, bite for bite, I’ve come up with two pasta salads that speak Venutian to our tastebuds…

My niece and I have the same taste in ‘kinis (that’s what she calls bikinis). She just happens to pull it off better than I!

But our beachside eats are much different. I go for Corona and lime–with Appalachicola oysters if I’m back home–and she prefers a waffle with peanut butter and jelly (pictured below). 

I wonder if I can come up with a recipe to suit us both…

“Cooking for the SoHo set requires no cooking at all. Forget the girls who only sip champagne and nibble on tofu–they’re not for me. Frankly, I don’t trust you if you don’t eat cheese.”

To read more of my monthly Food & Wine column, click here.

(And for all of my archived PNJ Food & Wine and ABC News columns, click on Glam Girl Cookin’ and Foodie Musings.)

I’ve moved away from velvet ropes and stepped closer to the stove. I don’t focus on loft parties as much, instead I think about lamb chops. Miu Miu comes after Wusthof.

My site has shifted, slowly but surely, away from tales of first dates (largely horrific), fresh-out-of-college jobs (mostly demoralizing) and industry parties (all pretension, no fun) to cooking and warmth and love. I’m finally feeling comfortable in my own skin, in Manhattan—amazing. And it’s only taken me 5 years to get here…

Now, I have real friends, a tiny kitchen and a glamorous city that suits me. If there were a recipe for my current life, it would call for a cup of Paula (Deen) and a pinch of Carrie (Bradshaw). And I think my new site reflects that…

The Big Apple can be brutal for a working belle with an appetite.

There’s no time for a hot meal and the hotdog cart on Broadway and Canal is not calling my name. What to do?

Five years in New York City and I’ve finally learned the art of portable lunches packed with protein. Think golden roasted chicken tucked into a sliced baguette, a sliver of basil & mint frittata… Don’t think you can do it ? Check out “The New Power Lunch!”