I’m Pretty Sure I Used to be Cooler
Cornbread
Well, Black My Eyes!
This post might not make sense to you if you’re not from the South, but I had a near calamity today. I had a taste for black eye peas, so I got my trusty cast iron pot out and started washing peas. Bud made a pass through and nearly swooned with true love when he saw how lovely I looked washing peas, and the garlic, celery, and onion waiting on the chopping block. There would be unhappiness in our home this evening if no peas and ham were forthcoming. After seasoning and starting the peas, I went to the freezer to find the meaty hambone I’d squirreled back a couple of weeks ago. I think to a Southern Cook, the hambone is more important than the ham itself, a delicacy to be hidden from nosey freezer plunderers at all costs. In fact, I have been known to threaten bodily harm when a home-wrecking guest asked Bud, not me, for the hambone after a meal. I put a stop to that hussy then and there!
At any rate, the precious hambone has to be retrieved at the perfect point of denuding. Too much meat on the bone is wasteful. Too little just leaves the pea soup a bit anemic. I knew I had the most darling hambone hidden away in the freezer awaiting its rendezvous with my peas. I reached in the freezer for my hambone and found………..nothing! Well, actually I found ground beef and pork, chicken parts of numerous vintages, several kinds of sausage, vegetables and fruit a plenty, but no hambone. I panicked. Earlier in the week, I’d asked Bud to get the frozen meat trimmings and scraps to the trash. God forbid? Had he mistaken my foil-wrapped hambone for scraps. Worse yet, had he sneaked it out to another woman? I was almost too shattered to look, but finally found my hambone shoved to the back of the bottom shelf behind a bag of ice. Never has a hambone been so welcome. The peas breathed a sigh of relief when I dropped the bone in.
Our marriage was saved.
2 1/2 cups black eyed peas
8 cups water
1/2 tablespoon salt or more to taste
1/4 tablespoon black pepper
1 medium onion (whole)
1/4 c diced celery if desired
Nice hambone
1/4 teaspoon vinegar (or pepper sauce)
Simmer all ingredients in large cooking pot on stove top burner on medium heat. Use cast-iron pot if you have one.
Cook 40-60 minutes or until peas are tender. Do not allow water to evaporate entirely. If peas are dry they will burn quickly.
Serve with hot cornbread
Don’t Spin Your Greens, Granny (Part 2 of Multi-Function Appliances
When you live in the South and visit old folks in the country, the first thing you have to do is admire their garden. You’re liable to come home with a “mess of greens.” For the unenlightened, greens include turnips, collards, or mustard greens. Boiled down low, with a bit of pork, and garnished with a splash of “pepper sauce,” greens make a delicious meal. A true connoisseur polishes off by sopping up the juice, or pot-liquor with cornbread. If you’re above the Mason-Dixon Line, try a roll.
That’s the happy ending. Now, we get down to the nitty gritty, literally. Greens have to be “looked and washed.” The first step is dispossessing the wildlife who habituate greens. Nobody wants to find half a worm or a cluster of bug eggs in their pot-liquor. You have to give both sides of each rumpled leaf a good look, wash, and then wash and rinse copiously.
I’d heard the glorious news that greens could be washed in the washing machine, cutting down tremendously on prep time. The next time Bud came in wagging a bag no of greens, I didn’t moan like normal, having recently heard the good news that greens could be washed in the washing machine. As usual, the basic information registered, not the total technique. I loaded the washer with dirty greens and detergent and hit the start button. Quite a while later, the alarm sounded, and I went to retrieve my sparkling greens. Alas, no greens remained, just a few tough stems and a few bits of leaves. A follow-up conversation with my friend revealed that I should have only washed them on gentle and not continue to spend.
Though I hoped he’d forget, Bud came in that night expecting greens. I feigned innocence. “What greens?”
It didn’t fly. “The greens I brought in yesterday.”
It’s hard to come up with an excuse how precious greens went missing. I gave up and told the truth, though I don’t like worrying Bud stuff with gets his blood pressure up. I’m considerate that way. “They went down the drain.”
“How in the Hell did they go down the drain?” I don’t know why he gets all up in my housekeeping and cooking business.
“They just did. Now don’t keep asking nosy questions!”
“Exactly what drain and how did that happen?”
“The washing machine drain.” I hoped if I answered matter-of-factly, he’d move on. I didn’t work.
“You put greens in the washing machine? What in the Hell were you thinking?” I hate it when he apes back what I’ve just said. I’ve told him it gets on my nerves.
“It takes forever to look and wash greens. Jenny told me she puts hers in the washer and it works great. I didn’t realize I wasn’t supposed to put them through spin.”
“Grouch, grouch, grouch @^%&( , #@$%! Don’t ever put )(^%&# greens in the washer, again.”
“Okay, okay. Don’t go on forever about it. I get tired of your nagging”
Since then I’ve been careful not to spin them. It works great.
Floyd, the Cornbread, and the Attic Fan
Floyd Lewis was a holdover from another time. Daddy hired him whenever he needed help clearing new ground, cutting timber, or work of that sort. Illiterate, with no social graces, Floyd muttered an unintelligible answer if asked a direct question. Considering our financial situation, I know Daddy couldn’t have paid him much. It is doubtful Floyd ever attended school, since he was of the generation before attendance was Continue reading
Dee Gibbs and Dishwater Soup
Of all the hobos who made their rounds periodically, Mama and the three of us kids despised Dee Gibbs the most, though we would have been hard pressed to come up with what was the worst: his smell, his voracious appetite, or his refusal to take the broadest hint that his welcome had worn thin. It was a mystery why Daddy tolerated him, but after Continue reading
Nutsrok 