No Show Snow and Eggnog

Mornin' my friends,

There it was on the six o'clock news last Friday. Snow and sleet forecasted again for our area. That was like the third time in 10 days. There I was, eagerly watching the radar screen to see if it would get here in time for more snowman building in the morning. Went to bed. Woke up-- no show snow.

As I was grumbling about not having a pretty front yard again, I got to thinking. And, then I got to laughing. Do you remember what it was like to have youngins in the house? It was always quite noisy, and that was a good sign.

When it got quiet for a spell, the old mama brain radar would sound and off. I'd go to seek and find. I remember one time when the mama radar went off. It was just too quiet for toddlers in the house. Well, guess what! They were quiet for a reason.

I went upstairs to be greeted by shouts of joy. "Look, mama," they shouted. "We're snowmen."

Snowmen indeed. They were covered in white---- white baby powder, that is. The oldest had climbed up on the bed and reached way over to the top of the dresser. She grabbed the baby powder and turned everyone, and everything, into snowmen. They were just so proud. Me? Not so proud.

After cleaning them up, I spent several hours trying to clean up all the "snow" which had fallen in the baby's room. As I recall, that room smelled like baby powder until the day we moved!

So, even though the weather radar ending up being quiet over the weekend, I spent many moments in happy snow memories.

Tried something new this morning. I decided I needed some eggnog before it went completely out of season. Since it really is too early to add the julep juice, I opted on adding a dash of Kahlua. Mmmmmmmmmmmm. So, I think I'll go sip on my eggnog and dream of snow and the days of the mama radar.

Talk with you later,

Miss Etta

Redundancy

Hey girls,

Miss Faye, seems to me that "nasty politics" sure is a fine example of redundancy. I've got a buncha kin folks who have run for office - all of 'em running successfully, regardless of how the vote count turned out. You know what I always say: when it comes to politics, sometimes the loser is the biggest winner.

If anybody happens to ask me (and it happens on the rare occasion), I tell 'em to run on the state or national level 'cause it's been my experience that the hometown folks remember every single little thing - and they hold onto a grudge like it was a bar of gold. As a rule, folks just don't seem to pay nearly as much attention to what's going on outside their backyard.

'Course the odd thing is that I've also found that people want to run for something on the local level 'cause they care about where they live and they want to have a positive impact on what goes on there. I can't explain it, I just know it's so.

I don't know. I just don't know.

I synonymize (I just made that word up, dontchaknow) power with politics, and power just does things to people. And it doesn't matter whether you win or lose the election 'cause let's face it: there's power in name recognition alone. It's like I've always said: Money (or you can substitute the word "power") brings out the BEST in people.

I say that and most people don't even pay any attention. They're so used to hearing folks say "Money brings out the WORST in people" that they just think they know what I said. But then I get the occasional person who realizes how I changed it and they either (a) correct me like I'm some moron who doesn't know a cliche from a voting booth or (b) ignore it completely or (c) ask me what on earth am I talking about. And since I can tell you girls are of the #c variety, I'm gonna' tell you that what I'm talking about is this: when people have money, they can either keep it to themselves and just go on being a nice person or they can try to make other people it that money without even salting it first. Me, I prefer what's behind door #a: they just keep right on being a nice, friendly, upstanding person, keeping their bank account balance to themselves.

I've got some other relatives who chose my preferred route. They lived well beneath their means, and when it came time that I had to take a more active role in their lives, that's when I found out just how far beneath their means they were living. It was interesting (we'll just choose to go with that word, though there are a host of other words running through my brain right now) watching how people treated this one relative in particular. She was old and lived in a plain house and drove an old, old, old car and had teeth that made her look British, and while a lot of people were kind to her, there were way, way, way, way too many who treated her with disdain - like they had "power" over her because she was old and looked so poor. Oh, if they only knew.

If they only knew.

It was kinda' entertaining, I must say. Was like watching The Emperor's New Clothes play out again and again. Them parading around like an emperor with their nose in the air like they were wearing clothes they knew she wished she had, when actually they were parading around buck nekkid and hairy.

But I'll tell you one thing that's The Honest Truth: it's nice having rich folks as ancestors.

Especially when they're nice, honest, loving, fun, good people who like to laugh, too.

Till next time,

Miz Vul

Me Thinks They Doth Protest Too Much

Do you remember growing up in the time where manners and truth meant something? Do you remember what it was like to get caught in a not so truthful story? Kinda like when mama would ask who ate the last chocolate cookie? Sometimes, I would just stand there and with an oh so innocent look on my face say, "not me." She would ask again. Again I would deny. Then she would point out that I had chocolate around my mouth. Oops. Learned real fast to keep my face clean. Learned real fast what happened when I was caught.

And then the mama talks about not saying anything at all if I couldn't find something nice to say. Boy, did I have to work on keeping my trap shut. Is that why I am so very quiet now? Sometimes, it just is too hard to find something nice to say.

The last couple of days have been real interesting, yessiree. It seems like those squabbling Democratic candidates aren't from around here or else they didn't learn their lessons at all. Why, mama would have taken care of those two long ago.

It would appear that the candidates are really getting ready to have fistfights based on the way they acted at that debate the other night. They keep on pointing fingers and trying to get the last word in about what he said or she said.

Haven't they heard of video? It's just so easy for the general public to find what was really said or not said. And this last round is really making the candidates less than desirable, in my
book. Wouldn't a potential leader know that they need to be able to back up those accusations with facts, and not fantasy? Looks like they've been caught with the tell tell chocolate syrup on their faces. Looks like their mamas should have taught them some manners on what to do in polite company.

Uncle had a saying about verbal warfare. He would say, "Me thinks the lady doth protest too much." In simple words, keep on denying and hurtling back and lose all credibility. Once again, in my life, it was a lesson hard learned-- but I learned how to keep quiet.

Better to let sister or cousin take the heat.

You know Miss Vul, I bet your grandpa would have really enjoyed watching today's version of verbal wrestling. Even you might have been persuaded to stop counting cars and start counting those stories. I might even have to miss an episode of Perry just to catch the latest round in this battle.

Miss Etta

I declare I am getting senile

I titled my last entry "Squishy Squash" and plum forgot to put anything in there about squash. I am not old enough to be senile and not blond enough to be called ditsy, so I have no excuse.

My intention was to talk the other "southern" favorite. My hips are a testament to the fact that I have the southern fried food affinity affliction. I love my fried squash but, like my aversion to boiled okra, I can not stand it stewed.

I love to add squash to bread recipes though. I had thought I might use your okra bread recipe Miss Etta and try substituting some squash.

I like to take that jiffy mix cornbread mix and fry it up like a pancake. Add a bit of sugar to the batter and it is absolutely delicious. Fry it up and you have the two weight-devils in one batch for a good breakfast. I used to slather it with butter and syrup but all those years of fried foods, sweets and sugar laden desserts now keep me from the sin of butter sadly.

When I am old I will wear purple and I will eat all the fried foods, desserts and breads covered in butter that I want. Until then, I diet and abstain.

I'm off for good this time!
Miss Faye

Old Enough to Be Young

My, my. My face is turning red as yours should be, Miss Faye. Just know that I'm too young to be this old.

I recall when I was a child that my sister was only one year older than me. Apparently time passed by more quickly for her than for me because she has a child who is old enough to make her a grandma. Me? I'm much too young for any of that nonsense. I even told her so recently, too.

Speaking of age, one time my youngins asked me what it was like living with the dinosaurs. I told them they shouldn't call their father names! Hmmmmmppppphhhhhhh.

Okra Bread is so simple to make, although I'm not sure if I should share the recipe with you, after asking me a question that no polite southern gal would ask anyone Lawd, next you'll be trying to figure a way to get me to say it by asking who was the first president I voted for. Just know, it was a one term winner. Ok-- here it goes... Take another sip of Julep Juice and sit down so you don't miss it. I'm, oh, about...

Okra Bread

1 c. chopped fresh okra

1 c. chopped onions

2 eggs
1 c. chopped fresh tomatoes (or one can of tomatoes, drained)
1 box Jiffy corn muffin mix
Salt and pepper to taste

Mix above ingredients until it sticks together with muffin mix. Pour into greased pan. Dot with butter and bake at 375 degrees for 30-45 minutes or until brown.

Talk to you later. I've got to stop and have some more Julep Juice.

Miss Etta

Snow Jam and Okra Bread

Goodness, ladies! Can't a good old (do not snicker) Southern gal take time to watch the weather forecast? And for the sake of our friendship, leave okra alone!! I adore okra. Most anyway I can find it. Boiled, fried, soup, cake, and my favorite, Okra Bread. Ah, the memories of it just warms the cockles of my heart.

Now that I've got that off my mind, let me talk about my day. I've been so busy just wondering if we're gonna have another Snow Jam in Atlanta. It's been so many years since we've had a really big snow jam. Why, I remember back in the early 1980s that we had them on a fairly regular basis. If I recall correctly, it also seems like they were usually around Martin Luther King Holiday. And it seems as if all our really bad snowstorms come from Bama.

Why, I remember when I was working just north of downtown Atlanta when the telephone rang at the office back in '82. One of the girl's husbands, who was an attorney, said his Birmingham office called and said get out of Atlanta. Snow is a coming. And, boy did it come. I was stuck at the office for two days. Couldn't get my car out of the parking lot.

Now I had a miniature poodle named Killer. Before you laugh too hard, my daddy said if I had to have a sissy looking dog, I couldn't give it a sissy name. So, the dog was named Killer. He was most definitely a "lady killer." Of course, he was great at nipping my dates too. Let me get back to my story before I tell you some really hilarious things that Killer did.

Anyway, I was living in a townhouse in Doraville. I called the manager of the complex and asked them to check on little Killer, seeing how I couldn't get there to take care of him. The manager called me back shortly at the office and told me Killer was just fine. He, in fact, had bitten her when she went in to feed him and take him for a walk. She didn't complain though, because poor little Killer was up to his kneecaps in extremely cold water. Yep, while I was at work for that long period of time, my water pipes broke. Actually broke in 16 places. And, yes, there was a ton of water in the townhouse. They shut off my water and went ahead and got someone in to take care of some of the damage before I could get home.

So, you see, I learned another valuable lesson from a dog. They are great indicators to use when water pipes break. If water gets up to their kneecaps, have someone turn off the water and call a plumber. Of course, now I have a much bigger dog so his kneecaps are much further off the floor. Find it cuts down on having to call the plumber, don't you know.

I'm ready for Snow Jam '08. I just baked a cake and went to the store to buy carbs. Who knows, if the power goes, I'll need the extra carbs to stay warm. And if the power doesn't go off, well, I just can't let that food go to waste now, can I.

Miss Etta

Feed those poor starving kids some spinach!

Where or where can Miss Etta be? It has been too long since she joined us on the porch! I may have to send out a posse to find her!

Lawd, I gotta tell you my mind was jumpin' all over the place, just like those crickets, when I read your entry Miz Vul! I have food tales to tell for sure!

My Mama told me a story of when I was so small I was still in a high chair. She had plopped a whole bunch of nasty spinach on my plate and I was refusing to eat it. We locked horns and I have to tell you, I was much more stubborn than she. We went round and round until my dessert privileges were in dire jeopardy.

Just in the nick of time someone knocked on the door and she left to answer it. She wasn't gone but a few minutes, just long enough for my plate to get cleaned up real nicely. She said I was just barely talking and walking and she had no idea I was such a sneaky little devil until she was cleaning up AFTER I had my dessert reward for being so, so good. Guess what was in plain view in the middle of the trash can? Yep, of course you guessed long ago I had done something with the spinach other than eat it!

She said she had no idea I could even get out of the high chair, much less figure out that the spinach needed to go all the way across to the trash. She never did figure out how I thought to do it so fast and then was able to accomplish the dastardly deed in the short time she was gone. I don't remember the incident so I have no idea how I managed.

And those poor starving children I had to clean my plate for? I never did understand why it mattered about those children in China or Vietnam or Africa (depending on her mood). I would have been delighted to ship them a package every day of the stuff I didn't want to eat.

I am still a very picky eater, although I have grown to like spinach. I can't abide the taste of collard greens and turnips, which I know is almost a sacrilege down here in our south.

You must have a very interesting family Miz Vul, one that I think I would very much like! If I gave anyone, and I do mean anyone, in my family chocolate and paint brushes they would head to the freezer to find the ice cream as they asked which package had the paint to go with the brushes. I'd rather drink before noon than have to try to explain what they might want to do with the paint brushes and chocolate if it just so happened I didn't have a can of paint and ice cream!

I rather enjoy poking at my family sometimes. It is so easy to just tip toe over the line of decorum and have them looking at me all askance! I may be invitin' you and Miss Etta to our next family gathering. After I've had a couple of pitchers of adult beverages, I think I would enjoy it immensely.

That reminds me of the fella in school that I used to delight in embarrassing. I sat behind him in one of my classes. He was a big old football player and everyone just swooned over him. But my, oh my, was he shy! I would lower my head and get as close as I could reach and whisper something to make him turn red just when I thought the teacher was swinging her hear in his direction. It didn't take much. All I'd have to do was tell him that everyone thought he was so cute or some similar sentiment!

I have a little bit of an impish nature! My Mama just says I'm trouble on two legs, but most times she says it with a smile.

Well, it's Friday night, the snow is coming. I hope we have at least 3 or 4 inches although I understand the weatherman has tempered the prediction to possibly one at most. Oh well, I can always hope.

Hope you enjoyed your Little Debbie Miz Vul, and hope to hear from you soon Miss Etta!

Miss Faye is headed to the refrigerator while we still have power!

Chocolate On My Mind

Hey Miss Faye,

Glad you gave the chirpers a listen. Hope you listened to the slowed-down version 'cause it's amazing how much their slowed-down version sounds like humans making beautiful music. Makes me wonder how much better we might all sound if we slowed down just a smidgeon, you know what I mean? Hope all that cricket music didn't make you have to bring out the calamine lotion last night.

So you don't like to feed one breathing thing to another, eh? Sure do wish more people felt the way you do - especially when it comes to breathing human beings. Non-breathing humans, too, for that matter, tho' I've found that as a rule, folks are much kinder to dead folks. It's also interesting the transformation that takes place when somebody dies. But we'll save that for another day's posting.

I'm with you on the boiled okra. Blechdkdt. It may taste fine, but the texture is what keeps me from partaking. And I don't really see how anybody could tell how it tastes cause it's so slippery it likely slides right on down without waking up the taste buds.

I am what's known as a picky eater, and now I'm old enough my mama can't make me eat anything regardless of the condition of those poor hungry children in China. And I don't have to hide things under the sofa either, thank goodness, cause now I am the one that has to sweep out from under the sofa.

As for dunking things in chocolate, yum yum. I'll coat most anything with chocolate and call it good. Reminds me of the Christmas I bought a jar of chocolate and a coupla paint brushes for my father-in-law and his new bride. (She was That Kind of Woman, dontchaknow.) (And he sure didn't seem to mind. Not one bit.) Well, I ordered it out of a catalog, and as usual, I did my shopping early and stuck the presents in the closet as they came in. Then, when it came time to wrap presents, I couldn't find that chocolate anywhere.

I did eventually find it, though.

When my 15-year old teenage nephew boy opened his present (ordered from the same catalog), out rolled that chocolate followed shortly by the his 'n hers paintbrushes.

Nephew boy was mightily disappointed to find that it wasn't his, I tell you what.

Think I'll go see if I can find that Little Debbie chocolate thing I hid for just such a day as this.

Miss Etta, you doin' okay?

Till next time, Miz Vul

Boiled Okra and Fried Crickets

Well, Jimminy Cricket Miz Vul! I had to go out and listen to those crickets you told us about in your journal entry. I could not believe that the beautiful sounds could be those noisy little pests. It just goes to show you that there is good in everything.

Except I do have to wonder, like you, just how much time those people had who put all that together.

I listened to that and now I know I will be dreaming of crickets tonight. I saw there was a full one hour version of those crickets making music. I started itching while listening to the short version. My Mama always told me I had much too much of an imagination. Once I knew it was crickets I might be able to appreciate how beautiful they sounded but I could not help but think of those jumping little creatures trapped in a jar waiting to become fish bait!

Now Miss Etta may already know that I don't like to fish and I don't like taking God's creatures and feeding them to another. I'm never quite sure how much Miss Etta has learned about me as we share our thoughts in these journals!

While I might not like the idea of feeding crickets to fish, if I were hungry enough I suppose I'd be soon figuring out how to put them on a fish hook.

Do you know that in some places they put chocolate on crickets and eat them? At least I have been told that before. I have seen boxes of chocolate covered ants but haven't had the displeasure of seeing crunchy cricket delight yet.

In case you were wondering, it is not on my list of things I have to see before I die.

Have you ever thought about who in the world figured out that some foods were OK to eat? Who decided to boil okra? Who was brave enough to eat it first? I dearly love my fried okra but I have yet to acquire a taste for boiled okra. I like it well enough in a soup as long as there are plenty of other vegetables in there with it. Mix it up with some tomatoes and put it on top of rice and I am in my own little food heaven! Yet I will not eat it plain boiled.

Miss Etta I almost forgot! I surely did laugh so hard when I read your cousins saying about first babies! There are a lot of half-baked babies running around in this world today.

I'll be talking with you soon,
Miss Faye

Welcome, Welcome Miz Vul!

Miz Vul, I am so very excited to know you will be joining us on the porch! I hear tell you do not adhere to the 12 o'clock rule for mint juleps? Well, that could prove to be very interesting indeed. We are going to have so much fun swappin' tales, especially after we've finished our first pitcher of our favorite beverages! While I am afraid I will always stick to my noon-hour rule, I won't mind watching you at all.

Reading about your husband and piano playing relative got me to thinking about some of my relatives.

You know I have a whole closet just filled with relatives who can do strange and unusual things. We don't talk much about some of them. I practically had to pry open my Grandmama's lips to get her to tell me about some of my relatives when I decided to look back at our family line.

My favorite story is the one where my Grandmama's sister's little girl was born early! She said this cute little thing was so tiny her Mama almost didn't see her when she went to sit down. I can hear her still as she quietly learned over and said, "Why, we almost lost that little girl 'cause my mama's bottom was rather broad at that time."

Now you might not think that talking about a little tiny baby being born early would mean much, but I'll have you know that she was born less than 9 months after my great aunt met her husband at the altar of the local church. And if she wasn't such a prig puttin' on airs like you wouldn't believe.

It took me forever to ferret the date she got married out of my grandmother. She "just couldn't remember exactly, why it was so long ago". Finally I went looking for the family Bible and there it was. If they wanted to hide something like that they shouldn't have kept such good records.

I have to giggle every time I see my cousins! They inherited their mama's big ideas and stuck up ways. I know it's not Christian, but it does just bring them down to human level in my mind somehow.

Now don't get me wrong, I'm a charitable person. If they didn't lord their ideas of grandeur over everyone's heads it wouldn't matter a hill of beans to me which side of the bed their mama got out of in the mornings. There's not a person in this big old world who hasn't made some mistake in their lives and some of them are fairly big. I learned a long time ago to live and let live and not to judge. Just as soon as you start thinking you are better than someone else one of your own children shows up on the front porch with a tale to out-tale the rest.

Oh dear, I have taken so much space up with my tale of just one relative! I will have to come back another day and tell you about some of my more unusual, and yes, strange, relatives!

It is after noon and I am heading to the liquor cabinet!
Miss Faye

Frigid Toes, Frigid Nose, Warm Heart

My toes are frozen. At least they feel like they are. I'm just not conditioned for this type of arctic weather. I hear it might get cold enough to either ice or snow some tonight. I hear the kids at JC Booth have been busy performing a snow dance all week. I guess that's something like a rain dance? Whatever it is, I know all children want to hear the magical words of "no school" in the morning. Guess we'll just have to wait and see.

My nose is frozen, too. Kinda takes me back in time to when I was just a teenager.

We had one of those freak snowstorms in rural GA and our backyard measured 15 inches on the ground. That was the BIG time. Of course, there were seven of us kids home at the time.

Well, mama was afraid she couldn't get out to the store to lay in the supplies, so she dug a big turkey out of the freezer. There it was, just thawing away. Sometime later there was a commotion in the kitchen and we youngins' were told to stay out. No problem. I had other things on my mind.

We all enjoyed the turkey after going outside for the prerequisite snowball fight and snowman building contests. Well, except for mama and Babs. Neither one of them touched it.

Now that was a curious sight. Daddy remarked on their seemingly lack of appetite.

They started giggling. It got louder. The eyes on their heads were rolling and getting bigger.

Ok. Busted. Well, they told us that when they went into the kitchen to check on the turkey and its progress in thawing, they found our dog. And guess what the dog was doing? Yeppers, that dog had pulled the turkey off the counter and was proceeding to lick it. Guess it was a good thing Babs found her then, otherwise, I bet that dog would have started to eat it. Anyway, they just washed it and then put it in the oven to kill the rest of the germs.

Well, some of us at the table almost lost our dinner when that story was over. I learned a lesson. I know never to leave food on a counter when there's a dog in the house!

Speaking of laying in supplies, do you think the stores are full of people today buying all the perishables? I've never figured out why the threat of ice or snow makes everyone rush out to buy milk and eggs. Just think-- if you lose power--- you lose the ability to maintain the fridge. Anyway, it's not like we're going into a deep freeze and not going to be able to go and purchase that milk in the next day or so.

My warm heart just has to welcome Miz Vul to our front porch. I hear tell you're gonna drop by and have some stimulating conversation with Miss Faye and me. We always have room for one more on our porch, but don't ask me to share my fan in the summertime.

Gotta go right now. Gotta go to the store and buy something. I just know I'll get stuck in my house and not be able to get out for at least an hour when I have that uncontrollable urge for popcorn and my daily juleps. Girls have to be prepared for such emergencies.

Miss Etta

Special Hoppin John

Miss Faye,

While you are correct in saying Hoppin' John originated in the low country, you did forget to add another tradition of the low country. Gotta have the She Crab Soup!

Here is my recipe I use for Hoppin' John which is from the cookbook 'Four Great Southern Cooks." These ladies, descended from those who cooked in the grand plantations of the white-columned old South homes, know how to cook. They also know "Southern Cooking" means warmth, simplicity and hospitality.

Hoppin' John

1 medium sized onion, peeled and left whole
1/2 lb. salt pork
2 ham hocks
1/2 lb dried black-eyed peas
1 tsp. red pepper flakes
1 1/2 c. long grain rice

Lightly fry the salt pork, add the ham hocks, dried peas, the whole onion and red pepper. Pour in just enough water to cover, put a lid on the pot, and bring to a boil. Reduce heat and simmer for 1 1/2 hours. Remove the salt pork and ham hocks. Stir in the rice and cover. Remove any meat from the ham hocks and return to the pea/rice mixture. Simmer over low heat for 30 minutes. Serves 6-8.

For She Crab Soup, use crab meat, butter, flour lemon, light cream, sherry, and Tabasco. Better yet. Jump in the car and head to the low country.

See you there! Hey, and bring along some Mint Julep tea, too!

Miss Etta

Hoppin' John

It struck me as I was reading your latest journal entry Miss Etta, that some of our readers might not know what Hoppin' John actually is. Ooops, I ended a sentence in a preposition. My English teacher would not be happy.

You're entry took me back to my younger years. In our family, the coin, usually a dime, went into the black-eyed peas. Did you read some of the traditions from other countries on the Fayette Front Page? I think to be on the safe side I'm going to go buy myself a polka-dot shirt and some red underwear. I already have my true love so I won't be wearing yellow!

And, not to ramble, but did you hear that a bunch of rabble-rousers are going to try and disrupt the Rose Bowl Parade? There is a time and place for everything and that is not the place. I certainly hope that tomorrow they will not show the protesters while I am watching it on television. I do so love a good parade, although it is much more fun to be there. I have never been to the Rose Bowl Parade. Have you?

Well, back to Hoppin' John. Here's a saying about eating Hoppin' John on New Year's Day: "Eat poor that day, eat rich the rest of the year. Rice for riches and peas for peace."

Supposedly the Hoppin' John tradition goes back as far as 1841, when, according to tradition, the dish hawked in the streets of Charleston, South Carolina by a crippled black man who was know as Hoppin' John. Another story says that the name came from someone named John who came a hoppin' when his wife called him to dinner. And then there's the one that says it has to do with children hoppin' round the table, which is one it sounds like your family took to heart. Which means in my mind that it's the correct one because I know your family has roots back before 1841.

I have a few recipes so I thought I would share them. Different people make it in different ways. The first one is somewhat more involved than the second. It's just a matter of spices and what you like. After the recipes I've included the lazy way to make it.

Hoppin' John Recipe #1

Ingredients:
1 pound dried black-eyed peas
2 small smoked ham hocks or meaty ham bone
2 medium onions, divided
3 large cloves garlic, halved
1 bay leaf
1 cup long-grain white rice
1 can (10 to 14.5 ounces) diced tomatoes with chili peppers, juices reserved
1 medium red bell pepper, chopped
1/2 green bell pepper, chopped
3 ribs celery, chopped
1 jalapeno or Serrano pepper, minced
2 teaspoons Cajun or Creole seasoning
1/2 teaspoon dried thyme leaves
3/4 teaspoon ground cumin
3/4 teaspoon salt
4 green onions, sliced

In a large Dutch oven or kettle, combine the black-eyed peas, ham bone or ham hocks, and 6 cups water. Cut 1 of the onions in half and add it to the pot along with the garlic and bay leaf. Bring to a boil, reduce the heat to medium-low, and simmer gently until the beans are tender but not mushy, 2 to 2 1/2 hours.

Remove the ham bone or hocks, cut off the meat; dice and set aside. Drain the peas and set aside. Remove and discard the bay leaf, onion pieces, and garlic.

Add 2 1/2 cups of water to the pot and bring to a boil. Add the rice, cover, and simmer until the rice is almost tender, about 10 to 12 minutes.

Mince the remaining onion then add to the rice along with the peas, tomatoes, and their juices, red and green bell pepper, celery, jalapeno pepper, Creole seasoning, thyme, cumin, and salt. Cook until the rice is tender, 5 to 8 minutes. Stir in the sliced green onions and the reserved diced ham. Serve with hot sauce and freshly baked cornbread.

Hoppin' John Recipe #2

2 cups dried black-eyed peas
Cold water
1 pound lean bacon or 1 pound meaty ham hocks
1 large onion, chopped
1/4 to 1/2 teaspoon crushed red pepper flakes (depending how hot you want to make it)
4 cups water or chicken broth (some people use vegetable broth)
2 cups uncooked long-grain white rice
Salt and black pepper like you like it

Before preparing dried beans, sort through them thoroughly to get rid of the grit. Soak, rinse, and drain dried black-eyed peas. Place black-eyed peas in a large soup pot over medium-high heat and cover with cold water; bring to a boil. Remove the pot from heat, cover and let it stand for up to 2 hours. Drain and rinse beans.

Using the same large soup pot, over medium-high heat, add soaked black-eyed peas, bacon or ham hock, onion, and red pepper. Add water or chicken broth and bring the mixture to a boil. Reduce heat to medium-low and cook for up to 2 hours or until the peas are tender (do not let it boil as the beans will burst, they just won't taste or look right).

Remove bacon or ham hock and cut it into bite-size pieces. Return the pieces of meat to pot. Stir in rice, cover, and cook 20 to 25 minutes or until rice is tender and liquid is absorbed. Remove from heat and season to taste with salt and pepper.

There are some who do not like to cook the rice in the same pot. If you're one of those, then by all means cook it separately and serve it separately, or add the cooked rice right at the last minute.

If you're like most of us you're going to add your own special touch to the Hoppin' John. Some people cook it without all the hot spices and serve it with a hot sauce on the side so everyone can fix it up the way they like it. A side dish of pickle relish is a must for some. If you're going to add a dime like my family does don't cook it in the Hoppin' John, add it at the end. Stir it up good and make sure everyone doesn't go rootin' to find it like I used to do.

For those who are utterly dismal in the kitchen, cheat. Buy some canned, already cooked black eyed peas. If you want to make it all yours, saute some onions and maybe cook some bacon and dump it all in a pan. Add some hot sauce or any of the other spices in the recipes above and put it in a pot. Cook it on the stove or in the microwave. Ta da, quick and easy, lazy Hoppin' John.

Mint Julep Iced Tea

I came across this recipe and I just had to share it. It sounds so much better than Long Island Tea. I seems delightfully wicked to add bourbon to our good old southern ice tea.

Mint Julep Iced Tea

8 mint leaves
1 lemon, sliced
1 lime, sliced
1 cup bourbon
3 cups cold sweetened tea
Cubed or crushed ice

Combine first 3 ingredients in a 2-quart pitcher, pressing with spoon to crush mint. Stir in bourbon and tea. Add ice. Makes 2 quarts.

Oh my, that is MY kind of ice tea! A few glasses of that and who'll need rose colored glasses to view the world?

Cotton Up To and Cotton To, Too

Miss Etta, wouldn't you just think that the term "cotton up to" HAD to be a Southern phrase? I seriously doubted that combination of words would ever be heard from the mouth of anyone outside of our general neck of the woods. But I was soooo wrong!

The phrase was not coined by a fellow southerner! It seems the phrase "cotton to" has been in used in Great Britain for many long years.

I discovered a number of different thoughts on the origin of the phrase, neither had anything to do with our early American history.

One source took the word back to Egypt and China! I found the term used in plays back in the 1500's when I went looking.

According to Folk-Etymology, the use of cotton in the phrase is an old BRITISH word and has nothing at all to do with the cotton that still grows in many of our Georgia fields. It means harmonize, get along well, coincide. This fellow said it goes back to the Welsh and even further back to Latin.

I found this quote from a forum where they were discussing the meaning. They didn't cite a source, so I can't tell you where it came from but here it is: "To "cotton" meaning "to get along with" comes from the characteristics of cotton cloth. Cotton fabric is soft and fuzzy with a rich pile, and "to cotton" originally meant to work cotton or some other fabric such as wool so as to raise a nap or pile. This process is an important step in the finishing of fine cloth, and by the 16th century "cotton" was being used figuratively to mean "succeed" or "improve." By the early 17th century, "cotton" was being used in a more general sense of "get along well together" or "work harmoniously," and a bit later to mean "strike up a friendship." The modern sense of "to become attached to" first appeared around 1805."

And here's another source: Eric Partridgein A Dictionary of Slang and Unconventional English (Routledge, 2000) has cotton v.i. Prosper; hence, agree together: colloquial; the former (obsolete). from ca. 1560; the latter, from ca. 1600. In an old play (1605), 'John a Nokes and John a Style and I cannot cotton.' The primary sense ('prosper') may arise ex 'a figurative sense of raising a nap on cloth' (Ernest Weekley, Etymological Dictionary of Modern English). —2. Hence, with to, 'get on' well with (a person), take kindly to (an idea, a thing): from ca. 1800; colloquial Barham. 'It's amazing to think./How one cottons to drink.' —3. See cotton on.

Here's a fun article I found in, of all places, the Hindu Times!
What is the difference between "cotton onto someone" and "cotton up to someone"?
http://www.hinduonnet.com/thehindu/edu/2003/05/20/stories/2003052000110201.htm

I wonder where the word cotton in relation to the growing kind that we turn into cloth came from?

In case you're wondering, I was eating my dinner in front of the computer and decided to take a short break to do something fun. I have been SO busy all day today. I thought finding the meaning of "cotton to" or "cotton up to" would be fairly simple.

I was wrong.

I hope you have a delightfully fun weekend!

Goodnight for now,
Miss Faye