{ Having an hors d'oeuvre emergency? You can go straight for the classic pimiento cheese recipe. }
Kidding. There is no final word on pimiento cheese, and when we elevate it to the divine, that's just blasphemous. It's just a food, one many of us eat too much of, succumbing to the gluttony in our sinful hearts. But I'm not one to throw stones because there are an awful lot of windows in my house, and they're expensive to fix. I'm also a believer in enjoying what G-d (or whoever or whatever) puts in front of me, and pimiento cheese is certainly one of those things. And I believe in forgiveness. Also? I'm not divine—I'm only human—so I forgive myself for not being able to forgive people who are racist and hateful, putting themselves above everyone else for no reason whatsoever. I will never accept that there is violence on "many sides." That's like blaming a tree that's been growing beside the road for a hundred years when a drunk driver jumps a curb and hits it. You don't blame the object of hatred for violence. You blame the ignorant and angry subjects who perpetuate and act on it. Sometimes it does matter who started it, but you can't say someone started it by simply existing. This seems simple enough to me. But I digress.
Y'all? We need to quit being so precious about pimiento cheese. I know, it was your grandmother's recipe. And you would nevah, EVAH disrespect your ancestors by not following that recipe to the letter. But let me tell you something. Our foremothers and fathers were nothing if not resourceful. They worked with the food that was in the fridge, they were on a budget, and they were just plain not here for picky eaters. They were not going to waste precious gasoline going to the store for one measly non-essential ingredient (which was all of them), nor were they going to sacrifice precious time spent under the hood dryer for that unnecessary trip.
So why don't we make pimiento cheese as it was in the beginning? It was probably thrown together at the last minute, inspired by what was in the fridge because guests were coming for cocktail hour in 30 minutes and a host had to be ready. This is pimiento cheese as it is now (in my house) and ever shall be (in my not-humble-at-all opinion). Enough with your proclamations and snobbery. I'm bored. Let's make a party snack.
6 Rules for Pimiento Cheese
1. Start with the cheese.
You need about four cups of shredded cheese and this is the perfect time to use up all the bits and pieces. Maybe Aunt So-and-So swears pimiento cheese must be made with a specific mix of sharp and mild cheddar. Or your neighbor says Gouda is the next big thing. Well, those sound good. But you know what else is good? A little manchego, a dollop of blue cheese, the leftover quarter cup of Parmigiano from last night's spaghetti, and the second half of that block of pepper jack you ate yesterday with crackers while you were making the spaghetti. We aren't French, n'est-ce pas? Fromage is cheese. Embrace it. All of it. As they (never ever) say in France, get off your cheval haut.
There are people who swear you should nevah, EVAH buy grated cheese, because it has additives that make it taste like sawdust. I guess my palate isn't that sophisticated, because I like it just fine. But when you're using up all the little bits of cheese in your fridge, I recommend a miniature food processor with a grating attachment to save time.
2. Use Duke's mayonnaise.
I mean, okay. This one is important. Guess what. NO IT ISN'T. Blasphemy! I know. I'm a Duke's devotée, and it will always be my first choice. But I once (well, several times) made pimiento cheese in Italy with random European mayo and creamy goat cheese. It was fantastic. You can use Hellmann's (my second choice, but "the best?" #fakenews), cream cheese, sour cream, Greek yogurt, and—whatever, I don't care—Miracle Whip. You're still perfectly capable of producing a fine cheese spread and I can't wait to try it.
3. Pick a pickle.
The obvious choice here is pimiento, and I support that. Though I usually have a jar in the fridge, I'm occasionally out of the little chopped red peppers. Guess what. It won't really be pimiento cheese, because there are no pimientos in it, but you can make a delightful cheese spread with chopped olives, roasted red peppers from a jar, refrigerator-pickled jalapeños, hot dog relish, or those hot and sweet cherry peppers from Trader Joe's. Let your freak flag fly! Grab something pickled and toss it in there! If you need a little additional liquid to get the consistency you want at the end, add a little juice from whatever jar you reached for.
4. Add the other stuff.
I like to add a few dashes of Worcestershire and hot sauce. A friend of mine adds a splash of olive juice. Salt and pepper are usually a good idea. I happen to think a dollop of Dijon mustard is essential (in just about everything). But get in there and experiment. Miso paste? Vegemite? Why not?
5. Pimiento cheese should be chunky. Or smooth. Spreadable. Or not.
I have no preference here. Every texture works for me. Because I tend to use bits and pieces of leftover cheese, and because we love all the cheese—soft, hard, and in-between—the texture of my pimiento cheese varies. I tend to add as little mayo as possible because a lot of my friends don't care for mayo and I myself believe it should serve to bring a dish together and shouldn't be the star of the show. But if you like a creamier spread and you're using hard cheese? Add as much mayo as you like. No judgement here!
6. It's "pimiento" not "pimento."
Kidding again. I so don't care how you spell it, though my personal choice is pimiento, because that's what it usually says on the jar. I must give props to a commenter on The Kitchn from four years ago. RvL has an elegant solution:
"Pimento Cheese is made with pimiento peppers."
I like this interpretation and have considered adopting it, though the consistent use of "pimiento" is a hard habit to break. Anyhow, I don't care what you call it, I'm still going to eat it and enjoy the heck out of it, but this struck me as a nice option.
The best thing about southern cooking is its adaptability. We cook what we have. We don't need an exact and perfect spice mixture to make shrimp and grits. We need a pan, some bacon drippings, some shrimp and a bag of grits, and a few things from the garden, like tomatoes, onions, garlic, peppers, and corn. Start with the bacon drippings (or chicken fat or butter or whatever tasty fat you have) and sautée everything together, adding the shrimp at the end. Season as you go with whatever you have on hand. Toss some cheese (or pimiento cheese) into the grits if you like. Top off everyone's drinks and serve. If there are any leftovers? Turn them into a breakfast casserole. Waste not, want not.
Pimiento Cheese: Any Way You Want It
◔ Serves 1 or more, depending on how hungry you are.
⧖ 15 minutes or so
4 cups shredded cheese, any kind
2 tablespoons (or more) mayonnaise (I prefer Duke's but use whatever you like, even if all you have is plain yogurt)
¼ cup of something pickled (the obvious choice is pimientos, but olives, relish, dill pickles, pickled okra, pickled jalapeños, or anything else will work just fine)
a dollop of strong Dijon mustard (Trader Joe's Dijon is the best, even my half-French husband agrees)
a dash of Worcestershire
salt and pepper to taste
Optional: dash of hot sauce, splash of liquid from your pickled product of choice, random herbs and spices
Shred all of your random cheese in the food processor or grate it by hand. Dump it in a bowl.
Add mayo, pickled item, and all other ingredients.
Stir, fold, and/or mash it together.
Eat it.
Notes:
You might think the cheese will never come together when you start stirring. It will. Add less mayo to start and resist the urge to add more unless you really, really need it.
If you use, say, jalapeño-stuffed olives instead of pimientos, this isn't technically pimiento cheese. Are you okay with that? I am. Let's just call it cheese spread.
If you like a smoother spread, soft cheeses like blue cheese, goat cheese, or brie make a great addition.
As always, remember to use vegetarian Worcestershire if you're feeding vegetarians or people who are allergic to seafood.
Pimiento cheese is a pantry staple, so there's no way you can make too much.
Now, we all know you can serve pimiento cheese with just about anything. A lot of southerners are partial to a dollop of strawberry jam and pimiento cheese on a cracker and I can't argue with it. We also serve it on burgers, on Wonder Bread with juicy heirloom tomatoes (or grocery store tomatoes, because if they're ripe, I don't care where they went to prep school), in grits, on celery, with fried green tomatoes, and on a spoon, right out of the mixing bowl. But I like to serve it with a dish of olives or refrigerator-pickled peppers, because that makes it a meal.
Need something better to read than a silly blog post about pimiento cheese? Read this and tell me how it makes you feel.