OUT ON VACATION: Pea Salad for a True Southern Repast

 

Welcome to Wonderful

Southern Summer Homecooking

In our home, this scrumptious looking plate of goodness is referred to as a veggie dinner.  We come from a long line of summer vegetarians.  When the fresh summer vegetables are so plentiful and delectable why bother with meat?  Obviously, not totally meatless with the addition of a little piece or two of leftover ham in the green beans.  Both of my grandfathers had successful vegetable patches.  What I wouldn't give right now for one of their good tomatoes.

 

In the summertime, I can hardly remember my mother cooking anything besides vegetables.  I remember going to the Farmer's Market sheds downtown and coming home toting bags of goodies.  Summer wasn't summer without purple thumbs.  Or the pop of snapped green beans falling softly into the pot.  Or the pfft of corn juice bursting from the cob and  across your face.  Sadly, I was practically an adult before I fell in love with tomatoes.  I remember the plates of tomatoes I passed around the dinner table without having the good sense to fork a couple onto my plate.  My aunt would eat a tomato like an apple! 

 

This is not the column about my cornbread (which is perfect).  (Perfect Cornbread Post 11-23-13) That will come later when we delve into the proper method of making Cornbread dressing, close to Thanksgiving.  But you will need a mighty fine cornbread to go with this recipe.  For a little history, I will tell you that I made my first batch of cornbread one summer day when my mother had taken to her sick bed.  (This is a rarity for my mother who is the original inspiration for the Energizer Bunny.)  She had veggies cooked for lunch.  In his new job, my father was able to come home for lunch, rain or shine, which was a nice break from the stress of retail management. 

 

She told me to go make the cornbread for his lunch.  At this point in my shaky culinary career, I don't know if I had even baked a cake mix.  She told me the "Red and White Checkered Book" and the title.  Those were my instructions.  I know you are thinking this is a lot of info on cornbread, how could there be more if this isn't THE column, but I am the Cornbread Diva and my vast knowledge can't be contained here.  This is supposed to be about Pea Salad.

 

I don't know if Pea Salad is a family invention but I do know I have yet to sit down at another table serving purple hull peas and see this accoutrement. But I forgot about the purple hull peas!

 

I know I have eaten Black-eyed Peas but not by choice.  Purple hull peas are the purest choice for those of us down south just like we know the right way to pronounce  pecans:

(pu = pu(ff)  + cons ).  Pettest peeve - not PEECANS.  That is just rude. Not PEECONS.  Senseless. Enough.

 Fresh Purple hull peas (which will turn your fingers purple if you shell them but that is what shelling machines were invented for so spend the extra unless you want sore purple fingers or you wish to inflict a character lesson upon a child) after shelling, must be washed in a colander to pick out any bad peas (very, very few). 

 Place them in a big enough pot to cover well with water and leave room for a small simmer.  It is tempting to boil but it will make them tough.  Cook them on low, very slowly.  They have a little scummy foam (nothing bad) you will need to slough off with a spoon during the first part of cooking.  They are best cooked for about an hour and a half or longer.  But not to the point of being mushy.  You may need to add a little water as the juice boils off.  You want more juice than peas. 

 

Add salt and pepper to taste.  And also add, the butter of the south, a good tablespoon of bacon grease.  It doesn't take much but flavors perfectly.  They are not to be swimming in bacon grease, just gently flavored.  This is the secret to using bacon grease, less is really more.  Once they are seasoned, you can keep them on the stove until the rest of the meal is ready.

 

My great-grandparents had hotels in different little towns in Texas and Arkansas. Sons who would follow in his footsteps.  Some of these hotels also had dining rooms and hotel kitchens.  My uncle has been so good to share with me some of my great-grandfather's cooking leaflets and recipes.  Unfortunately, I think most of the recipes were those he knew by heart and never wrote down. Now that I'm writing about Pea Salad, I think maybe this is where it originated, for our family.  My husband, who was born in a border state with the Mason-Dixon running through it, loves Pea Salad on his purple hull peas and cornbread.

 

Measurements are approximate.  You need:     

1 good size green bell pepper/   1 small onion/    1 medium tomato

1 tsp. sugar/   1 tsp. salt/   1/2 tsp. pepper/ 

1/2 tablespoon Balsamic Vinegar/  Equal parts water and white vinegar

 

Clean and seed bell pepper.  I used three rings of pepper, dicing the rings into small pieces, as pictured.  /  I peeled and sliced and diced most of the onion, small pieces. /  I peeled the tomato and sliced and diced it into small pieces./  Add water and white vinegar in equal parts, more on the vinegar side.  Add salt, pepper and sugar.  For something different, I added the Balsamic vinegar and it works great.  Chill before serving.  The longer this sets, the tastier it gets.  To serve:  Slice and butter a piece of hot, out-of-the-oven cornbread.  Open cornbread up and add hot, cooked purple hull peas on top of the cornbread, with a little bit of the pot juice also.  Top this with cold Pea Salad but don't use a slotted spoon.  You will want the tangy vinegar dressing.  Add a little or a lot, depends on you.  There will be several layers of taste sensations.  You may consume another serving.  It is also permissible to make your entire meal of just cornbread, peas, and salad.  As my Pa would say, "Mighty fine, best I ever had."  You have arrived.                                             

 

 

 

 

signed,

a woman with butter dripping down her hand as it melts on hot cornbread (the dessert slice)       

 

 

 

**I wonder if anyone else has a similar salad for peas?

**This is also a necessity on New Year's Day and is delicious with Prime Rib, Ham, or Fried Chicken.    

 

 

Originally published 9-13-13

 

MID-SEPTEMBER ORANGE BEACH

 In celebration of Poetry Month.

MID-SEPTEMBER ORANGE BEACH

Pink, brown, cream, grey

Shattered, scattered

At the edge of the sea,

I’m thinking of Annabel Lee.

Blue and white

Glisten gold in the stream.

Ruffled waves

Breaker waves.

Children leaning over with

Cups in their hands

Scooping the sand.

Footprints of moments

Played hours ago,

Broken, buffeted, buried.

Empty chairs

Face the waves.

A perfect shell --

Rare indeed

After the sanding

Of the harsh sea.

Cool wind whistling in my ears.

Here and now

The ending of a beautiful day.

 

A girl posing for a picture

In a wind-whipped dress.

One, two, three

On her tiptoes

Hand behind her head,

Blonde, blown tresses covering her face.

 

A couple

Arms interlocked

Sitting on the rocks of the jetty

Looking out to sea.

 

Boys strolling the beach.

Jumping in the waves

Chasing birds at day’s end.

Just boys

Lying in the shallow water

Letting waves break over their

Beached bodies,

Their voices

Floating across the sand to me.

 

People heading home.

White tipped sailboats skim the shore

To the harbor.

Channel lights flickering on

As fishermen for hire

Head to dock.

A party starting

On a patio.

Pink blue lilac sky.

Steps retraced

Stepped before.

Mid - September beach

Almost over.

 

Amy Holt Taylor

 

NUTS, BOLTS AND SCREWS

 

MAMA'S NUTS, BOLTS AND SCREWS

(Classic Oven Baked Chex Party Mix)

Yesterday marked the beginning of Christmas at my house. The tree is up, sparkling with lights. Plenty of unwrapped gifts scattered across the dining room table. Amy Grant Christmas CDs are playing in the den and The Nutcracker Suite on YouTube. And I began baking. 

The first batch of Mama's Nuts, Bolts and Screws has arrived. Last night I spent a little time putting together the recipe. The original recipe, Chex Party Mix, was developed by Ralston Purina and appeared on their cereal boxes in 1952 in the hopes of selling their Chex Wheat Cereal and a new Corn Chex cereal. The first Wheat Chex was came out in 1935 and was more of a shredded wheat biscuit.

Mama credits her recipe to a woman who worked with my Daddy at Sangar Harris Department Store in Dallas in 1960. This is the only recipe we have ever used. This is the best recipe you will every try.

This is my copy as written by my Mother in 1996. (My comments)

1 Box Rice Chex

1  Box Wheat Chex

1 Box Cheerios

1 Slim Thin Pretzels

*As box sizes change, I mix a batch w/about  3-4 cups of each.

        (In a large baking pan) Heat in 350 degree oven 15 min

        stirring every 5 minutes. (Heating longer also works).

Dressing:

        2 sticks of oleo melted (Now we use butter and I added 2 TBL of melted bacon grease to                                                               yesterday's batch.)

        1 tsp Worcestershire sauce

Pour over hot cereal stirring as you pour.

In empty salt shaker add:

        (3) TBS celery salt - too much I use 1 TBS (My variation uses less than 1 TBS.)

        1 TBS chili powder

        1/2 tsp curry powder (I use at least 1 tsp.)

        1/2 tsp red pepper 

        1/2 tsp garlic powder

        1 tsp onion salt (I use onion powder. At this point, extra salt is not needed.)

        1 tsp paprika ( I used Smoked Paprika and will use a little more in next batch.)

        (Pour the spices into a container. You will need to be able to shake the mixture over the baking                 cereal. I used an empty pepper shaker.)

    Shake over warm cereal - stir as you shake. Add 1 small can mixed nuts and 1 can small peanuts. 

*******************************

    (Do not shake the entire spice mix out at one time. Shake as you bake.)

(I love to use toasted pecans but pecans were too expensive this year.  For years, we have been spoiled with a big bucket of pecan halves from our aunt and uncle at Christmas.)

(Now comes the fun part. Continue to bake at 350. Set the timer for 8 minutes and take the pan out and put it on the counter. Stir the mixture to coat the cereal evenly. Back in the oven for another 8 minutes. I continue to work with the baked mixture for about 45 minutes. The cereal will get smaller and the flavor will bake into the pieces. When finished, cool the mixture on the counter until you can put it in a sealed container/gallon zipper bag.) As an added note, a dog will think cooling mix smells delicious. Put safety protocol into place. 

This recipe is labor intensive but worth the effort. Now I just have to decide who gets this first batch. I have over nine cups of finished Nuts, Bolts and Screws. I will use this one batch for probably three presents.

Enjoy! From my family to yours. Happy baking!

CHOCOLATE, OH CHOCOLATE

Homemade Chocolate Brownies

Today is National Chocolate Day. Not to be confused with National Chocolate Covered Anything Day or National Chocolate Souffle Day - Milk Chocolate, Chocolate Chip, Hot Chocolate, Chocolate Cupcake and even Chocolate Covered Raisin Day - to name a few. We are obviously a nation obsessed with chocolate. Chocolate is one of those words that makes you doubt the spelling like potato. But National Chocolate Day is a good day to fudge on the diet!

Do not despair just because it is the afternoon of National Chocolate Day. There is still time. I have the perfect recipe for quick dashes and cleanups. My well worn recipe is from Baker's Chocolate. One Bowl Brownies. I have used it with great success for a very long time. Just mix it in the bowl and pour it in the pan. 

I have a slight variation. For today's batch I didn't have 4 ounces of Baker's Unsweetened Chocolate. I only had three. I added one ounce of Baker's Semi-Sweet. I do lightly salt my mixture before cooking and give it another circle or two with a fork. It cuts the sweet and gives just a barely discernible taste of salt. The salty sweet perfection. One more important tip. I forgot to add vanilla. Thank goodness I realized it before putting it in the oven and sprinkled the teaspoon of vanilla over the top, swirling the vanilla in with a fork. 

BAKER'S ONE BOWL BROWNIES

1 pkg. (4 oz. Baker's Unsweetened Chocolate)

3/4 cup butter

2 cups sugar

3 eggs, beaten

1 tsp. vanilla

1 cup flour

1 cup coarsely chopped pecans

350 Oven for 30-35 minutes

Line 13x9 inch pan with foil, with foil extending over edges. Spray with cooking spray. 
Microwave butter and chocolate together until well melted. Stir in sugar and mix well. Add three beaten eggs and vanilla. Add flour and nuts. Pour into prepared pan. Cook until toothpick inserted in center comes out cleanly. Do not overbake. Cool completely.  (Today I turned out the brownies on a clean counter and then cut them with the edge of a spatula. It worked well.) Enjoy with a glass of milk.

***

Tomorrow is National Cat Day. This is supposed to encourage adoption. My mother has a cat, Sally. I used to like cats but now, not so much. This kitten was obtained through the free wants adds. Everyone wants a free kitten. She was reared in the country, roaming free. The little girl giving the kittens away said she was the wild one, an accurate description. Sally makes the Siamese Cats in 101 Dalmatians look like a pair of  older, never married sisters who are librarians. She is eight now but still can bite the hand that feeds her. She gets away with behavior my mother never would have allowed from her children like knocking down the bedroom clock radio every night and leaving anything on the wall knocked at an angle. Mama is eighty-eight. Even her doctor has questioned the living arrangements. Did I mention we have the perfect cat for adoption?

CRAZY BAG LADY

 

I just got back from a week in Atlanta playing with my four year old grandson. Traveling is rough on a purse, jammed with everything one might need while stranded on a tarmac. In a half-crazed mode, the easiest way to clear the deck was to dump out my purse on the bed. My grandmother was famous for such episodes. She could lose her purse in the middle of the night and she could decide to clean out her bag at midnight. Today is National Handbag Day and National Mental Health Day. I think the two go hand in hand.

One Band Aid. $15.62. Galaxy phone. Receipt from Raising Cane Chicken at 8:45 p.m. after the express snack service between ATL and LIT. Blue peepers. Extra pair of Peepers Readers. My EpiPen Auto Injector 0.3 mg stored in an extra Peeper Holder for my wasp allergy and a Sting Kill Pack – external anesthetic.

A good bag and good shoes. A mantra in my house growing up. Of course, my Daddy worked in Department Stores all of my life. I don’t remember my first purse but I now own thirty-five handbags, wrapped in tissue and tucked in dresser drawers or drawn up in cloth bags filling two laundry baskets in the closet. This is a curated collection of many years.

KN95 Mask. Grocery receipt for 37.10. Purell Hand Sanitizer. Chanel Rouge Coco 468 Michele.

Clutches. Evening bags. Saddlebags. Fabric bags. Mesh bags. Handbags. Crossbody bags. Shoulder bags. Large totes. Zippered bags. Magnetic closure or Toggle Bags.

Three have key fobs. I have red tassels and black tassels and brass hang tags. Bags with feet. Silver chains and brass chains.

Black bags. Black patent. Orange patent. Red. Turquoise. Tiffany Blue. Sea Mist Grey. Variation of blue and grey shimmer. Jade green. Gunmetal. Off White Quilted. Color blocked red and black and another red, navy and tan. A straw bag. Embossed bags. A hot pink bag studded with LOVE I carry to weddings and cool occasions.  

Coach. Brahmin. Michael Kors. Anne Klein. Liz Claiborne. Brighton. Cole Hahn. To name a few.  Many of my bags were purchased 30-40% off. My most expensive bag, a Black Patent Coach was on sale and my least purchase was a red glitter bag from Walmart for Halloween.

My oldest purse belonged to my grandmother. A maroon clutch Alligator bag lined in suede with a suede coin purse inside. My newest bag I bought during the Pandemic when I just had to go to the store for new sheets. Look what else came home, my brown Embossed Crossbody bag I love.

I have memory bags. A large Cole Hahn Black Tapestry shoulder bag with outer leather and brass accents and brass studded tassels. I have traveled everywhere with that mammoth bag stuffed with a water bottle and Sudoku book. It is the last bag I bought that I could share with my Daddy. He was in the hospital and I walked in fresh from Dillard’s with this sharp bag thrown over my shoulder and he said “Oh you shouldn’t have!” And I brought it closer and he began to admire the design and quality while still exclaiming “You really shouldn’t have.” But he was a lost cause at that point, Mr. Quality over Quantity. This bag is thirteen years old and gets a treatment with a black Sharpie every fall. I just can’t part with it, yet.

A Sea Bag Maine. Reclaimed sailing canvas printed with regional nautical maps and rope handles. I was visiting my cousin, Dede, who lived in Maine, when she had to go back into the hospital. Her bone marrow transplant was failing but we didn’t know that, then. I came in the last morning before I left and she was pleased as punch with a beautifully wrapped sack with a Sea Bag tucked in.  Dede took a pen and put a dot on the map right at Southport Island. The last sweet moments I would have with my dear cousin. Just a purse.

A wedding photo of two young people running through a shower of rice and love and wishes. There I am, taupe clutch in hand. Just like the Queen.

A Uni Ball Vision Elite Black Pen. A sea glass leather wallet with my Driver’s license, Starbucks card, two credit cards, ATM, insurance, Covid Vaccine Card, $15. Red pill case with Tylenol, Imodium, Benadryl for the wasp sting and clonazepam. The things we carry.

***

Four hundred suitcases were found buried in the attic of the former Willard State Hospital in New York in 1995. Shut up, put away. Patients living lifetimes in the institution. A multitude of belongings marking what was never needed again, tucked in the eaves of a one hundred twenty-six year old “asylum for the insane.”

This discovery told a story which had not been told before. As a result, a small portion of the forgotten suitcases were turned into a traveling exhibit, The Lives They Left Behind: Suitcases from a State Hospital Attic which debuted at SAMSHA (Substance Abuse and Mental Health Services Administration) in September 2006. I was able to see the exhibit as part of a conference I attended. 

Nine suitcases each with a story to tell – a handful to speak for the years and the thousands abandoned. A toothbrush.  An alligator wallet.  Sewing patterns.  Fine china.  A Bible.  A ration card. Letters. Postcards. Baby booties. Textbooks. Fine clothing. Hundreds of items telling the stories. Things for now and things for later. I connected with these lives, saddened for them but relieved for myself.

I carry my mental illness with me every day. I did not choose this little gem. It will probably never wear out. No one else wants it. Some days, it is heavier than others. The fear of the unknown. The whys and what ifs. Frustrating impairments. Undone everything. The stigma turning away would-be friends. Regrets of unmade memories and memories soured. Incomplete.   

For my journey, I pack what I need. Resiliency to jump back from setbacks. Buoyancy for whatever comes my way. Hope, without hope, everything looks lost even when it’s not. I need my stubborn streak. Self-determination is not hard for me. When I decide to do something, don’t get in my way. 

I carry strength to achieve my goal. I carry the strength of people who love me anyway. The power of words hidden in my heart. I pack being present. Not looking back. Trying not to obsess on forward. Knowing my own presence and sensing when my body and mind need rest.

I have travelled with a story for many years. The only value this little gem has given me is a story to share with other people. Otherwise, the disease wins. Stigma wins. I fight back with good doctors, therapists, consistent medication, support and faith. Recovery. Living my best life possible. What to produce from the ups and downs. How to respect an imperfect life.

And if it helps, a good bag on my arm.     

"Gunter, Where's My Purse?"  Randomonium June 1, 2022 

 

 

 

 

 

TWENTY-FIVE

 

Twenty-five. As soon as the first words flashed at the bottom of the television, my friend called me. I was the Diana expert. We cried. We knew everything about her. While we didn't share her celebrity or betrayals, we were also young wives and mothers.  We were 36 and 37. How could she be gone?

Those that know these things say Diana saved the monarchy. After watching the entire country and world in grief, the Queen broke royal protocol and bowed her head as Diana's procession passed, followed by the 9th Earl of Spencer, Prince William, Prince Henry, Prince Charles and Prince Philip who had walked behind her cortege for two miles. The world stopped briefly. 

According to Newsweek, one billion people watched Princess Diana's funeral at Westminster Abbey (August 31, 2022)(Archive 8-31-17 of 9-7-98). Queen Elizabeth's recent Diamond Jubilee and Celebration Party drew in over 20 million of the BBC broadcast and less for the rest watching in the world. 

Things change in twenty-five years. Ills are largely forgotten, or not. Sordid details grew fuzzy. If you believe everything you see and hear, Diana's beloved sons are not so beloved. Prince Harry has left his own country to live in California with his actress wife Meghan Markle. They now have two children, Archie and Lilibet and share a new Podcast, Archetypes.

The Duke and Duchess of Cambridge have just moved their three children, Prince George, Princess Charlotte and Prince Louis into a small, four bedroom cottage (supposedly sans staff) on the grounds of Windsor to be closer to the Queen. Hmm. Who is Granny's favorite?

And in the not-to-be-believed department but of course it will be, the Queen has officially proclaimed that when the time comes, the other woman will be called Queen Camilla.  Camilla and Charles have been married seventeen years which is two years longer than the first Royal Marriage. We know too much about both.

Twenty-five years. The world kept spinning although it did stop. With a seemingly full life ahead of her, Diana's own life is cut short in a Paris tunnel. As with any good mother, her legacy is her children. She raised them by example. Now they each seem to have genuine interests in their own endeavors and charities. Diana touched the aids patient and held the malnourished child. She walked through real minefields much like the private struggles in her own life. She will always be, in her own words, "The Queen of Hearts."

Another post, Swept Away In Remembrance 8-30-18

A STRANGE SUMMER TALE

 

                                                                          

The little house was 1000 square feet on a good day. A small, red brick, three bedroom, one bath home in a neighborhood built after WWII.  Oak Forest. We had been won over by the tall, sheltering oaks, beautiful hardwood floors and tall, sashed windows. No dishwasher. No designated laundry room. Attic fan. Floor furnaces. No central. One window unit in the living room. 

On this blistering July day, the window unit and a ceiling fan were struggling to keep the room cool despite the canopy of trees. I was barefoot and wearing my slip, holding my seven week old daughter close to the dining room window. The window unit was possibly original to the house.  

I went to the front door and looked out the window. Even with the sheer curtain I could see it was a white hot day. The street was bright and quiet. And then I saw a man walking down the middle of the street. The small, black man was dressed in white from head to toe, from his hat to his buttoned suit to white dress shoes. I watched him walking down the street in the middle of this heat. He came to my sidewalk and started up the walk. I put the baby down and put my robe on, wondering if he would ring the bell. 

The doorbell rang. I peeked out the window. It was the man in white. I opened the door and put my head out. "Hi, my name is Willie. Would you like to buy a color t.v.?"  I was in shock. There was no car in sight. I told him, "No, I already have one." I shut the door. He turned and walked down the walk. I watched this man dressed all in white, walk down the middle of the street. He did not go to any other house. 

At the time, we just thought it was an odd story. But it was not the first time people had come to our front door asking for money or food. We later decided we must have had a hobo's mark on our curb. One day a lady came to the door asking for food. I wasn't going to turn her away. I put together a small sack of food and handed it to her. She was very grateful. A couple of months later, the same woman returned asking for food. But this time, she had a trade in hand, a few simple trinkets she had made. My husband would be in the garage late at night working on a project. More than once, a man would walk down the driveway, asking for money or food. He would go to the freezer and hand them packaged meat. 

My cell phone just announced an excessive heat warning. When it gets this hot, mid July, I always remember Willie walking down the street. I hope he's found a nice, cool place.