From the editor.

I am both a picky eater and one who's willing to try anything once. Well, almost anything. After shunning the sushi craze for the last decade, convinced that no sane person could actually enjoy the taste of raw fish, I recently gave in to my sister and brother-in-law's standing invitation to dinner at a local Japanese restaurant. I loved the square plates, the kimono-wearing hostess, the minimalist decor ... but what about the food? Not knowing the difference between a California roll and a Tootsie Roll, I dutifully followed my hosts' recommendations on what to order, carefully avoiding all things that hadn't been heated to an FDA-approved temperature.

The meal started off innocently enough with a tasty appetizer of edamame, or steamed green soybeans. The next dish, which looked like sushi rolls but actually only contained cucumber with a creamy sauce, was even better. What have I been missing, I thought? Bring on the seafood!

Soon it was time for the main event. Clumsily wielding my chopsticks, I selected a large roll filled with soft-shell crab and topped with what they called eel sauce but I naively thought would probably taste like barbecue sauce. Popping it into my mouth, I clearly wasn't prepared for the unusual combination of intense flavors, not to mention the fact that the piece was so big that I could barely chew. All eyes at the table--we had brought along friends to witness this spectacle--were on me. "Well? What do you think?" I half-smiled and managed to finish the bite, but the sheer shock of that first serving was enough to scar me, if not permanently, then at least for the rest of the meal.

After that little adventure, downing something called a "slugburger" hardly seemed like a challenge. On a recent visit to the north Mississippi town of Corinth, I gamely ordered the signature sandwich at Borroum's Drug Store. I already knew that, while the name was less than appealing, the patty was made of rather tame ingredients: a mixture of soy meal and pork. Slugburgers were first served here during the Great Depression, when lean times prompted restaurant owners to stretch their meat with a little meal. "Sometimes in those days, a round metal disc called a slug was substituted for a real nickel in a jukebox," a Corinthian once explained. "Since (these) doughburgers were imitation hamburgers and cost a nickel, they became known as slugburgers."

My own slugburger-and-fries meal turned out to be an altogether satisfying experience--a tasty treat in itself and a taste of Mississippi history. For more of the legend behind the slugburger and the other fascinating parts of Corinth's past, don't miss "City at the Crossroads," pg. 52.

Speaking of unique foods, I invite you to enter your favorite family dishes in our first-ever recipe contest. We're turning the tables; instead of simply giving you interesting Mississippi recipes, it's your turn to tell us about your own culinary masterpieces! The winning recipes will be part of our special "Best of Mississippi" section in the July/August issue, and the overall winner will receive a fabulous prize package from Viking Cooking School and the Alluvian Hotel in Greenwood. See the facing page for details. But hurry! The deadline for submissions is May 20.

Of course, if you need a little culinary inspiration, look no further than the mouthwatering recipes in this issue. From dainty party foods to spicy Cajun fare, there's something here for all tastebuds. Even for curious--but cautious--eaters like me.