It was back in 1972 when I first announced to my family and friends that I was going to write the Greatest Cook Book Ever. I told them that when it was done, Julia Childs, Amy Vanderbilt, Graham Kerr, Betty Crocker, James Beard, Craig Claiborne, Colonel Sanders, and Fannie Farmer, just to name a few, would all fade in the minds of culinary persons throughout the world. Swamp Dogg would become the new champion of the kitchen. Heralded not only by the creditable but the sleazy as well.

All this was easier said than done.

The name of my book, I told anyone who'd listen, would be... no that's been done... maybe... good, but... The Profound Way to Cookbook... uh uh... The Profane Way to Cookbook... Bullshit, I need something great like the Encyclopedia of Cooking or the Joy of Cooking or Pearl's Kitchen or The World's One Hundred Best Recipes... only... someone beat me to those (keep on thinking)...

In 1980, I still didn't have a title. But I decided the book must have a theme... French cooking (who are you kidding?)... Italian! (your sense of humor knows no bounds)... Chinese! (please, spare me)... Korean (you've mastered one dish and that's still too greasy)... German (no!) British (no!) Spanish (hell no!)... Do your own thing Swamp Dogg style (Yes! Yes! Yes!)

What dishes would be included? My favorites? My most excellent? The ones my friends salivate over? Or... all of the above? The latter is the key.

Wait!! A title is coming, The Musical Cookbook... Great!!... now explain it, tie it in and make it work. Well, back to the drawing board.

Several more months (years?) went by and I'm still cooking, discarding dishes, creating dishes and dissipating flour and sugar on a scale comparable only to General Mills and C&H. But as fate would have it, I did it!! My culinary genius came to the fore and I completed this masterpiece.

After that, it sat around for a while. But then my friends made a movie about me, called Swamp Dogg Gets His Pool Painted, and these people at Pioneer Works said they'd put out my cookbook.

And now it's here. With this book as your aid you can impress, dazzle, spellbind, fascinate, and mesmerize your friends and family.

I'm strongly recommending a $399.95 price to my publisher... and that's for paperback. Whatever they sell it for, I know it will rank with the Magna Carta, From Here to Eternity, the Koran, Encyclopedia Britannica and possibly Devil in a Blue Dress!

This is the book that Hemingway wanted to write, Agatha Christie couldn't, Irving Wallace needed help with, and Alex Haley didn't have enough "soul" for... I did it infallibly. Not only does it make for good cooking but good reading, 'riting and 'rithmetic (sorry, I got carried away).

Well, get to cooking!!

We had squash on our plates at least once a week when I was growing up around my Aunt Kini. She would rent rooms in our house for musicians that would come into Portsmouth, during the doo-wop era. We only had two hotels in town. But they were white; niggers couldn't go in. So people stayed with Kini.

I remember one time, Fats Domino and a bunch of other people came through after a law passed saying blacks could stay in the same hotels as whites, on the same floors and stuff. Fats stayed at The Americana Hotel in Portsmouth, as it was called at that time. But the hotel's owners weren't ready for all this. Fats and everyone jumped in the pool with their head rags on and everything. "Fuck y'all," they said. "Y'all not going to swim with our water." They drained the pool while they were in it. Staying at the Americana wasn't like staying at Aunt Kini's.

You can eat a bowl of squash and not have anything else. Because you always put something in it like a sausage, and you cut up some sausage, a little ham. You need a little pork in it. Beef ain't going to do it. But squash, it's delicious—just like Kini made it.

– 5 medium-size squashes about 1 ½ pounds total
– 4 tablespoons bacon fat
– 1 onion
– ½ tablespoon pepper
– ¼ teaspoon salt
– 3 italian hot sausages
– ⅔ cup water

– Wash squash good with a vegetable brush. Heat bacon fat in fry pan, cut squash into ¼ inch pieces. Dice onion. Add squash and onion to bacon fat, cover, and cook over a medium flame. Cook for 10 minutes. Add salt and pepper. Stir and cook 10 minutes stirring frequently. Add Italian hots and continue to cook for 15 minutes. Cut each sausage into sections of four and continue to cook for 20 minutes more. Add ⅓ cup of water and cook another 10 minutes.

– Serve with rice or as is.

(Serves 8)

Like millions of others, I loved The Temptations and I dedicate this recipe to them because they summarized my cornbread in their songs when they sang "It's Growing"... which was really about what happens to one's appetite after one slice... just like "Get Ready" is your attitude when you're cognizant of what's in the oven... and "Ain't Too Proud to Beg" is how you feel once you've devoured your slice or slices... and "(I Know) I'm Losing You" names your sentiment when the last existing morsel is being masticated. Of course, "Cloud Nine" is the place everyone feels they've reached as they retire from my dining table.

– 1 cup soft butter
– ⅓ cup sugar
– 1 cup flour
– 1 tbsp. baking powder
– 1 cup yellow cornmeal
– 3 eggs (beaten slightly)
– 1 ¼ cups milk (room temperature)
– ¼ cup Monterey Jack cheese diced
– 12 oz. can whole kernel corn

– Preheat oven to 400 degrees.

– Grease skillet or pan and place in oven while preparing the ingredients. Place butter in a bowl and allow to soften at room temperature for 1 hour. Cream butter and add sugar and cream until semi-smooth. Combine flour, baking powder, and cornmeal. Add to butter mixture and mix well. Add eggs and milk, beat until well blended. Add cheese and corn, beat 1 minute more. Pour into a 9-by-13-inch pan or skillet. Bake 25 minutes.

(Serves 8–10)

(NOTE: Bread will appear bubbly because of the Monterey Jack cheese. Nevertheless it will be done.)

My Aunt Libby was more like a parent. She couldn’t have children so she bestowed all of that love on me, and as I look back to my childhood, I needed it.

1971 found me very successful and I went home to see my parents driving a new Rolls Royce accompanied by my bodyguards who were driving my two new Lincoln Continentals. Yes, I was showing off and I needed bodyguards about as much as a bull needed tits... I digress. After several days of visiting, we prepared to go back to New York. As I was walking out the door, Libby walked up to me, gave me a big hug and kiss, then slipped a twenty-dollar bill into my hand with a “take it baby, anything can happen out there.” That was love. She had seen a million motherfuckers come through town acting like Donald Trump worked for them and didn’t have funds to get through the Midtown tunnel. I took it and sent it back in presents quadrupled.

– 2 large uncooked sweet potatoes
– 1 ½ cups sugar (more if the season has not produced a good crop of sweet potatoes)
– 1 tbsp. vanilla
– 2 cans of evaporated milk
– 3 eggs beaten
– 2 tbsp. all-purpose flour
– 2 sticks of butter

– Preheat oven to 400 degrees.

– Peel and finely grate the raw sweet potatoes. Melt butter and add to potatoes. Add beaten eggs, vanilla, milk, sugar, and flour to potato mixture. Stir until well blended. Bake in a large baking dish for 55 minutes.

– Serve hot or cold as a dessert.

(Serves 10) ♦