racheld

Writing a eulogy for someone you love is one of the hardest, and one of the most wonderful, experiences you can ever have. You were the one chosen to form the words to tell of her spirit and her life and her priceless, one-of-a-kind persona which had and will have a forever effect on everyone who heard you speak of her. What a glorious gift from the two of you to each other: Your remembrances and retellings and history-recounting of a remarkable, far-reaching life, and her living of it, in all the ways and days that you shared. One of the sweetest parts is that you will learn more and more of the lives that she touched, the people she helped, the children she nurtured and taught and fed and provided for, the strangers whose lives were made richer, if only for the moment of their meeting. I've been privileged to do this for people I cared deeply about, and those are some of the greatest joys and most glorious gifts I've ever been given. I'm so sorry for your loss, and so glad for your relationship so worth remembering. rachel

andiesenji: I've seen your kitchen stuff and your antique stuff and your racks of stuff. This time you've gone too far: A perfect, wonderful machine that I WANT ONE OF!!! Details, please. rachel PS. THIS SITE SHOULD OFFER ENVY-GREEN INK!

Might that have been a dish of rice Congee? It's a staple there, one of THE comfort foods for the sick or for babies, or just when you're feeling the need of a nice soft unassuming bowl of porridgey-type breakfast or dinner. The rice is cooked in lots of liquid, usually til it's disintegrating, but it's usually served with a salty add-in, like fish or salty pickle. Did you get stares when you added the sugar? Maybe they have a sugar/no sugar contingent just like for grits in the South.

Yes, please...it's outdoor concert time, and we go to a couple every Summer. We pack one of my old RedMan picnic baskets with a special sandwich or two, a bag of finger salad (tiniest crudite you can find---plus the smallest leaves of Romaine hearts, all nestled in damp paper towels in a ziplok INSIDE a larger one with ice, which also holds a small container of ranch or vinaigrette), another heartier salad (yours would be perfect), a lovely damp-leaf-wrapped cheese, crackers, Rainier cherries, and Hubby's famous cookies. Big thermos of sweet iced tea, pretty napkins and plates and silver.

Southern-fried chicken wings, soaked four hours in seasoned buttermilk, then breaded and fried. Baby green peas; a bowl of "trash"--my Mother's word for a mix of diced garden tomatoes, fresh-picked cucumbers, green peppers and Vidalias, simply salted and left for half an hour to make their own dressing. The centerpiece of the meal was individual bowls of just-picked creamed corn, quickly simmered with butter, salt, and all of the crispins out of the chicken skillet--Hubby does all this dish himself, from shucking to cooking. Rainier cherries and chunks of Decker melon for dessert.

Wonderful pictures, wonderful work. I'd seen pictures of Colette Peters' upsydownsy teapots, etc., but it was so nice to see step-by-step from a REAL PERSON who is willing to share all the ways and means. Just marvelous. And I love all your innovative tools. Where would we be without power saws? And "plastic oogies"-----I see that you, too, graduated from the Annie Wilkes School of Cake Design.

Our season's first tomatoes, sliced and sandwiched between smooshy potato bread with a slick of mayo, sea salt and some crispy pepper bacon. Diet Pepper sparkled over ice; Chunks of chilled Decker melon for dessert. I'd never heard of it til we moved here---it's the sweetest, heaviest, juiciest, most flavorful cantaloupe ever. The season is short and the area regional, it seems. Deckers must be what they were serving at Goblin Market, for we long for them all year. Dead Zone on TV. AMH is pretty yummy himself.

I ate snake once, at a Rattlesnake Roundup. With my feet tucked under me in my chair, as the tent was not QUITE far enough from all the action outside. The meat was white, tender, a big old 3/4 inch thick piece of "chicken," breaded and fried and bunned up exactly like the Colonel's finest. Some joker had put two little thin dill slices on each one, an homage to our area having no Chic-fil-A, I suppose. No bones. And I don't know if they were frozen or came from that day's catch, though there was no evidence of mayhem other than yelling and jumping and the filling of bags and cages. And rattling---loud, hissy rattling. Everywhere.

Heirloom Grits. I had not heard that mentioned before, and had visions of a nice muslin bag, secreted away in an old stickered trunk and saved for posterity, discovered hidden away in old Aint Ursoola's attic, and brought forth into the light of day after lo these fifty years. Cooked up properly, buttered and presented with some country ham and two fried eggs---still mighty tasty. But when I googled the term, I got one hit: A Clemson professor with a pre-WAWAH corn strain which carries the taste of its forebears and, when presented to Paris chefs, was an immediate hit, especially topped with benne-breaded lobster dainties. My Stars and Garters!! OATMEAL would get points for sitting under LOBSTER. So gussied-up grits have made a hit in Paris. We all knew it was just a matter of time. But why did it take Ducasse to raise our lovely old comfort food, our delectable breakfast dish, our dress-them-up-for-a-party Southern GRITS to the notice of chefs and diners and the New York Times, for Goshsakes!! You just wanna shout "New Yowark SIDDY!!!???" At least, they'll know what we've been bragging about all these years. Move over, risotto. Grits are comin' to town.

I just found this thread and this is the funniest thing I've read today. And I like Ina and Miss Paula and Jamie and Miss Nigella, who disapeared into the ether with our new dish service (the one on the roof---she didn't abscond with the Limoges). Except I think sometimes Miss N took her lessons in Inept 101 from Nathalie Dupree, who scattered more flour and sugar among the stove burners than she got into the KitchenAid. What's with the Mise ON the stove? And Chen is a dear dumpling.

Wonderful!!! What a lovely way to spend a summer. Or a lifetime. The pics are great remembrances of a time with family which is so special and rare in these days. And the cooking is terrific!! By the time I clicked down through all the grilling and ribs and steaks, etc., I was ready to come track down your parking spot and join in. And then the burger just set off my taste buds no end. Thanks---Hope there's more and more. re: freezer---Where's the ICE CREAM!!!???

And in some Southern circles, the pronunciation is even MORE pronounced: Vye-eena. And for the older, eat-em-right-out-of-the-can-with-your-pocketknife generation: Vye-eenie, as in the movie version of Miss Loretta Lynn's life: "Get y'all some a them Vye-eenies, Loretty." (Not to be confused with "Spread me up one a them baloney sanwidges, Loretty," which occurs later in her life---perhaps at age 14, after her marriage, since them sanwidges have a salubrious effect on ole Doo). And pate'? Fann-cy. With a Gritstini, the nearest option would most likely be a gizzard, on a little frilly toothpick. And don't anyone forget the Gree-yards.

Will the cocktail glass have a handle and say "Mason" on the side?

We just got back from a weekend in Georgia...while there we bought several bags, though we make them at home, as well. We stayed in our usual hotel, and reminisced that last year, we stood in the dark at our sixth-floor window on July 4th, wearing only our underwear, watching the fireworks right outside, while we munched drippy boiled peanuts and drank icy Co-Cola. No travel agent could have arranged the "Southern experience" better.

Just what in the Sam Hill is GOING ON HERE???!!! I go away for four days and you're all stark, raving crazy when I get back....grits-spitting and Spam-adding and sushi-wrapping---the VERY IDEA!!! Have y'all been into the MOONSHINE??? And I ate grits in Georgia this weekend the BEST way---while feeding them to a one-year-old little PEACH with a birdie-mouth eagerly open for every bite in that little pink plastic spoon.

YESSSS!! It's almost DECKER-time!!! I'd never heard of them before we moved here. Anyone else familiar with Deckers?

Two different grumps in our vicinity have made snarky remarks lately about the growing number of Carniceria and Supermarcados in our area---I'm just delighted to have all the new flavors and herbs and vegetables to choose from. My VERY favorite part is going a few blocks EARLY in the morning to pick up lovely breads and pastries right out of the ovens. Home to warm Orejas and Besos with a cup of strong cinnamon coffee---that's improving the neighborhood.

Love it!! Love it!!! And you're getting quite adept at turns of phrase and VERY interesting anecdotes (lighten that FOOT, young man!). Your pictures are just wonderful, and you've captured the spirit and the adventure of any trip/quest/outing to the best of its parts. Thanks for the vicarious ride!! And don't get too busy---I recommended you to the man who published the "Ten Foods That Make America Great" article, to ride along and take HIS pictures on his quest for BBQ. See today's thread. Ahhhhh-----to be so young. And unfillupable. rachel

There was a pinky-red garlicky sweet dressing in the 60's, as I remember, called 1890 French---its hour-glass-waisted little bottle stood out on the shelves of Wishbone and beginnings of Kraft. We never had it on salads, as I recall, as one bottle was purchased at a time, specifically for one recipe: Bean Bundles. (recapped ad infinitum in a previous thread on church suppers, I think). And I assumed at the time that it was made as far back as the 90's, because we had had "French" dressing at home for years, made first by my Mammaw with an eggbeater, combining vinegar, sugar, paprika in astonishing amounts, and a steady stream of oil (poured drop by drop by me as she whirled that old beater, then in a little string til the cup was empty and I could lower my tired little arms). So, when the "dating" of the pink stuff came up just now, I Googled it, and got "Milani's 1890 French Dressing" in a disappointingly plebean little oompaloompa of a bottle, not at all the curvy pretty one of my childhood (which I carefully scrubbed the labels from and used as vases to give teachers and neighbors and such). But no dates which would say when the "real" French first morphed from a nice mustardy vinaigrette into a vulgarly tarted-up version of itself, clad in pink and pimping its wares by gallons and quarts into just any old grocery stores. And the one other item of my Google search: A copycat version of Milani's Buccaneer Dressing---verbatim from the "copier" who hadn't a clue as to taste or ingredients: "Posted in response to a request made about a year ago, Milani's stopped making this recipe in the 70's and when I emailed the company they said they no longer had the recipe. I have no clue if it tastes like the real thing as I've never had it, but enjoy anyway!" (italics mine---and maybe the recipe you gave, with mayo, Marie C's honey mustard dressing and paprika, is a recipe for library paste or lobster sauce---have you tasted THOSE either, you moron??!!) Let's all just take a well-meaning subscriber's request and put some things in a bowl and STIR THEM!!! End of recipes-cloned-by-quacks rant. And the bean bundles were a hoot.

I STILL don't get the Shoofly Pie thing. It's piecrust and molasses. Period. You might as well dip a biscuit and cut out all the rolling, crimping and fishing for compliments. Maybe it's because it's what they HAD. Okaaaaay. I see. That good ole American spirit of "making-do" which has always stood us in good stead (grudging acceptance dawning). And stock photos---your photographer has a TTL eye too jaded by raccoon-eyed models and three-sprig spa food...that mingy little trio of naked shrimp look like shivering castaways on a raft, with no land in sight. That photog needs some pointers from Rachel and Jason, who take marvelous pictures while hurrying before the food cools and salivating over their fourth Po'boy of the day. See "Louisiana" for their Po'boy thread---those shrimp tumbling out of that bun would raise Lazarus. Their photos are works of art, deserving of frames and a gallery with one of those cute maroon rope things. They'd make excellent traveling companions, with all their bright repartee and knowledge of cuisine and stuff. And Daniel---see his many "roadtrip" threads---makes nice pics with a 'cue in one hand and the other arm warmly ensconced around his "shotgun rider." I'm sure he'd be GLAD to travel with you to any and all BBQ tastings, snapping away. Looking forward to the 'cue article. Don't miss Memphis. rachel

I wanted this to go on and on. You could just keep going with a day in the life...from time to time. It was a wonderful glimpse into a family scene, a home with parents and children and their everyday interactions and enjoyments and travels and life. Thank you for all the sharing...we're all going into Varmint-withdrawal now. rachel And I may have rubbed elbows with you in the Chelsea store...we were there in June '03, and stayed at the Chelsea hotel for a bit before and after all our bus touring. I was the Grandma in the BIGGG hat.

Warm-from-the-grill soft, richly porky pulled pork, just removed from the smoker/Weber an hour ago and pulled into gobbets and porklets and bits of crust and soft sweet pinkly-softened meat, with the smoke and the tang and the crispy outers and the melting, unctuous inners and the salty, smoky PORKness of itself. On plain, soft cushy Wonder Bread, with a bit of Hellman's and a few driblets of Sweet Baby Ray's sauce. Cut into two halves which rise up like little mountains, their strata of white and brown and pink and the deep ruby sauce oozing forth to need licking from eager fingers. Tonight will come griddle-toasted buns, crisp shreds of vinegary slaw, sides of potato salad and beans. This is the NOW, when it's just done and ready. It was an afterthought, tossed onto the apple/hickory-stoked grill last night after the mahogany chicken came off for our dinner. The vents were adjusted, the waterpan filled once again, and this beautiful pearlypale chunk of meat alchemied all night in that hazy, gentle heat into a deep-black, pinkly centered falling-off-the-bone trove of perfectly cooked cue. I'm chewing as I write, though I should be paying total attention to each sweet, smoky bite. We're each eating only a half, as we're going to "have popcorn for breakfast"--our euphemism for going to an early movie...so we'll see Batman with the hint of smoke on our breaths and a glitter in our supper-waiting eyes. Happy 4th to all!! rachel

We make a Salpicon Salad every now and then, and it has green things, all finely minced and dressed, and a last-minute addition of grated, crisp-fried potato, in unbelievable quantities. I remember making the first one from Miss Marthy's party book, and have done it impromptu thereafter. I did give the recipe to a guest who just LOVED the dish. She called to say she had thawed and deepfried a huge snowfall of hash-browns, and that worked well. The only other time she mentioned making it, she had skipped that messy step and tossed in four cans of the little shoestring things. I expect to hear the tale of the smushed Ruffles any day. And I JUST LOVE THIS THREAD!!!! rachel (timesick for the days when my kids were that age)

FRIED CHICKEN!! And where in heck did they get that diddly-squat "po-boy" with just three shrimp-- French Laundry? Po-boys are PILED up with stuff, not lined up like those one-quail-egg spoons. Whoever made that list has been getting all their info from cookbooks and magazines, not travelin' and eatin'. Puh.