annecros

Two words. College student. Quite often you will see them go in, get a sandwich, and leave with a POCKET FULL of condiments. There must be something about condiments, that makes the mind more open to, lets say, something.

OMG, annecros, I thought I was the ONLY one ! My guilty secret is out! Edited to remove the tuna ← Oh please. We used to take a summer vacation somtimes in Carrabelle, Florida. This is what we ate. Until, or in case we didn't, catch any fish. My parents were the roughing it kind of campers, too. No guilt necessary. Step One: Admit you are powerless over the vienna sausages. Or the raviolis. Edited to add: My husband loves "raw" beans. That is, baked beans right out of the can with a spoon. Somehow, he cannot bring himself to acknowledge that he has been camping, until this little ceremony is preformed. After the building of the fire, of course. Even if we are camping in the Florida Keys in August. Remind me to tell you about his "hurricane stew" some time.

Interesting web site. I have always felt there was a distinct asian influence on the Carribbean food I have eaten. Something about the sweet/hot dynamic.

Well, you are precisely one day late for fried chicken and collards at my house! I remember the episode you are referring to now. Not personally, but remember reading of it. The DAR still has a huge hall in DC, full of musty old records.

I agree with the never buy instant philosophy as well. I ate them, once. I don't know what they are either. The quick grits are nice, and if you get the box with the Quaker on the outside, there are microwave directions for a single serving. Leftover grits in my house get fried, or fed to the wild life. Birds seem fond of them. Usually, there aren't any. Do check out the grits threads. Very educational, in my opinion. There are a lot of smart people in these forums that love to cook and eat.

Don't the bacteria leave toxins in the food even after they are killed off by the heat? I think I heard somewhere that it was the toxins that bacteria leave, not the bacteria themselves, that made you sick. Now, parasites are an entirely different, ummm, bug.

Ashamed to admit it, but never fry bacon naked was learned the hard way in my house.

Fritos, with canned chili and cheese on top. Vienna sausage straight out of the can with saltines on the side. Tuna, prepared as above. Cold raviolis straight out of the can, with a fork. MMMM, hurricane food. Ate it, and like it. Next time, I might line up for the MRE's.

Wow, MarketStEl, I have quite a bit of Scotch/Irish floating around the old family tree myself. What part of the south do you come from? Anywhere within a stone's throw of the GA/FL/AL triangle, and we would have to be cousins! I don't think that anybody that came from that particular gene pool could not be related to us, somehow! Seriously, I am glad that I did not offend with my post yesterday. I like you and enjoy your posts a great deal. Sometimes, I hit the add reply button before I really look at what I have written objectively. Yes, the racial bitterness in the South has been well documented. There are people from the south, who are fair skinned, who are just bad people. They would have not found themselves welcome in any member of my family's home after they ran off at the mouth a bit. I don't think the inclusiveness that always went on in the south has had a fair shake, and yeah, I am probably overly sensitive about it. I was fortunate enough to enjoy that inclusiveness in my family culture. Everyone that was around when there was food, ate. The racial hatred would not have been tolerated in my family group, any more than a thief, a liar, someone who was cruel to animals, someone who could not respect another human being, would. There was something about dishonesty and cruelty, above all else, that was simply shunned among my people. Now, we did tolerate our share of drunks, as long as they were honest drunks! And the thief and liar would probably wiggle his way back into the family reunion, after he/she had done their penance! After all, everyone has to eat. But they wouldn't be trusted, ever again. Marian Anderson the lovely woman with the lovely voice? I was not aware that she was the victim of yankee intolerance. Take care.

Wow, my best friend can't stand raw tomato either. She puts it very simply by saying "Those aren't done in the middle. Nope, not gonna eat it." I love them, especially raw, with a shaker of salt in the other hand. You are the first other person I have run across with the same taste as my friend.

Always, always, always use the guard on the mandoline. You don't want to bleed on the food. Trust me.

That's one of the best lines I've read in a long long time. heh. Like many others, mine would include sushi / Japanese foods. I crave agedashi tofu - especially when I'm tired and hungry. I'm a huge Greek food fan. Give me Avgolemono soup 5 nights a week I'm good. Otherwise my comfort foods are pretty typical for a Jewish girl - soup and Chinese food ← It's interesting, he is in LOOOOOVVVVVVVVVVVEEEEEEEEE with a lively and lovely young princess, and bought her some very nice jewelry for Hanukkah. I love Greek too. Tzatziki is just an incredible insight in how to tantalize the taste bud. I could eat it on most anything. I love the use of nutmeg as well in Greek food. My husband swears he hates nutmeg. Little does he know how much he has consumed.

Ah, yes, but they can be quite goofy sometimes! "I am mutt, see me slobber!" On the tongue thing, I think I was actually licked by one cow too many to forget what tongue is. Ever. Funny that I do not have problems with other varieties of offal. Out of curiousity, what does the name for tongue that you grew up with, literally translate to?

Funny. My grandfather was fond of brains and eggs. I THOUGHT it was a euphanism. I ate it, one time. Liked it. Then found out it was really brains and eggs. He also loved tongue sandwiches, with thick slabs of sliced onion. By that time I had learned to take my grandparents literally, but tried it anyway because grandaddy wouldn't love anything that was bad. Tongue just gets bigger and bigger in my mouth as I chew it. I guess it is my own problem, because I can't help but think that there are one too many tongues in my head. My son loves it, though. Yep, sometimes silence is golden.

←

You've alluded to this yourself in succeeding posts, but I'm going to wager that your family hails from the Deep South. Yes, all the foods you love are "slave food," according to the food anthropologists, but there is significant overlap between "soul food" and "Southern cookery," and how could there not be? After all, most African-Americans either live in or can trace their ancestry back to the former slave states, and all but three of those--Delaware, Maryland and Missouri--are in the South (though you can find pockets and remnants of a more Southern way of life in even these three). In many wealthy Southern homes, the black house slaves were responsible for the cooking as well, and such skills as well-off white Southern women had in that department were as likely as not transmitted to them by the slave cooks. I will also wager, however, that your Southern ancestors, if indeed Southern they are, did not come from the upper strata of Southern society. For even though barbecue crosses all lines of class and race, some of the other dishes--especially the greens--do not. Exploring this a little further: What's your attitude towards mayonnaise and Tabasco sauce? ← Very clever, you are. You would have won the bet! Yes, white trash abounds in my family tree. I think the white trash subsistance farmers had as much a right to nourish themselves as the slaves, and could actually be pretty creative when facing the delimma of feeding a houseful of field hands (who happen to be children) with an egg and whatever you could spare from the pantry until spring. Although there is an equal dose of magnolias in this same tree, and I am DAR AND UDC, through coercion, not choice! Rest assured, I have 7 "great grandfathers" freaking documented on the rebel side of the cause, and as many who dodged the draft during the war between the states. Also, thanks to the D of the A Revolution, I am the descendent of three, yes three, members of the original bunch that threw that little party. I just describe it as a LONG line of rebels! The trashiest side of my family, has a state senator to brag on. Yes, upper and lower strata intermarried in the deep south. Of course, much of that happened during the depression, or in the economic woes after the Civil War. Now, Mom was not real keen on the odor that collards perfume the house with. But Grandma, her mother? Get out of her way and don't get between her and the pot! Tobasco? Would rather have hot, pickled pepper sauce, homemade from the season before, on my greens, or most anything else. I love the bite of vinegar. Mayonnaise? Hate it on the sandwich, would rather eat one dry. Seriously. But in a salad? Miracle Whip or homemade. Now, tell me what you think, young man, of the results of your exploration. I am very curious. ← annecros that is so simultaneously hilarious and enlightening. You've already previously mentioned several of the "lucky" foods I'll be making for New Years: chitterlings (with maws of course), greens definitely with ham hocks, cornbread, potato salad (yes some Miracle Whip will be involved), and black eyed peas, again with some kind of smoky pork product. Why it will be a veritable porkathon at my house (no not that kind of porkathon; minds out of the gutter please!) However, ahem, how do I bring this up politely? Actually I can't so I'll just say it and once again ask that MarketSt.El/Sandy backs me up. It is entirely possible that your "inner Negritude" may have some genetic basis. Even though it could be downright dangerous, secret interracial unions were not uncommon even in the days of the Civil War. Of course, that's not the kind of thing that gets brought up at the dinner table, especially in a household with its DAR leanings. Now as for you Fresser and your current "condition" (as well as other things) we'll all have to put our heads together and design a very special twelve-step program just for you! And as for me, I'm having the opposite problem. Lately I've detected the unmistakable small voice of my "Inner Shvester" yearning to breath free. Oy. ← It is all so funny! Silly, silly. I am not scared of black people being in my blood. In fact, I would rather be surprised if there were not a person or two of color, somewhere, somehow. It just doesn't matter what color anyone is. If I can acquire a DAR certificate, anyone can. Trust me. No, I do not deny any ethnicity in my family that may not have been discussed at the dinner table when I was a young lady. In fact, I would be surprised if there were not people who contributed to my heritage, my food and my upbringing in one way or another, that perhaps my parents denied when questioned at the dinner table. I would be just as proud of an indentured servant, a slave, a subsistance farmer, a man that owned his own land, as I would any who contributed to the crazy stew that produced me. They all had challenges, a need to survive, and by gosh we ate good! I hope that my discussion of being a DAR girl, would not encourage others to judge my worth as an individual. I would hope that my discussion of being a DAR girl, would not put other's off, thinking that just because they didn't have a mother and grandmother, and a couple of Aunt's who were OCD concerning who begat whom, I would deign to think I was better, or gooder, or something else, than any other person. That's not the point. I didn't like that in the DAR relations I had. I consider myself a mutt. I know I am a mutt. I like being a mutt. As a mutt, I am a gourmand, rather than a gourmet! Put it in front of me, I will probably try it, may very well like it, and I do not worry about it. It just gets to me I suppose, when food is categorized as this, or that or the other, when it is just good. For me, personally, southern food is such an amalgam of cultures, it is incredible. I did not understand until I ventured out of the box I was raised in, but Southerners are very fortunate to have had Africans, Native Americans, Europeans, and others, to contribute to the wonderful variety of food we enjoy. Enough. Thanks for being so nice! And with all those lucky foods, you will own the mazel! Spare a bit?

Thank you so much, darling! The more I expand my horizons concerning food, the more I find in common between different cultures. Nourishment is the great equalizer! Mom's chicken soup was Campbell's from a can. Fortunately, I have stumbled across a very kosher recipe that brings tears to my eyes, and makes me want to personally circumcise my son!

You've alluded to this yourself in succeeding posts, but I'm going to wager that your family hails from the Deep South. Yes, all the foods you love are "slave food," according to the food anthropologists, but there is significant overlap between "soul food" and "Southern cookery," and how could there not be? After all, most African-Americans either live in or can trace their ancestry back to the former slave states, and all but three of those--Delaware, Maryland and Missouri--are in the South (though you can find pockets and remnants of a more Southern way of life in even these three). In many wealthy Southern homes, the black house slaves were responsible for the cooking as well, and such skills as well-off white Southern women had in that department were as likely as not transmitted to them by the slave cooks. I will also wager, however, that your Southern ancestors, if indeed Southern they are, did not come from the upper strata of Southern society. For even though barbecue crosses all lines of class and race, some of the other dishes--especially the greens--do not. Exploring this a little further: What's your attitude towards mayonnaise and Tabasco sauce? ← Very clever, you are. You would have won the bet! Yes, white trash abounds in my family tree. I think the white trash subsistance farmers had as much a right to nourish themselves as the slaves, and could actually be pretty creative when facing the delimma of feeding a houseful of field hands (who happen to be children) with an egg and whatever you could spare from the pantry until spring. Although there is an equal dose of magnolias in this same tree, and I am DAR AND UDC, through coercion, not choice! Rest assured, I have 7 "great grandfathers" freaking documented on the rebel side of the cause, and as many who dodged the draft during the war between the states. Also, thanks to the D of the A Revolution, I am the descendent of three, yes three, members of the original bunch that threw that little party. I just describe it as a LONG line of rebels! The trashiest side of my family, has a state senator to brag on. Yes, upper and lower strata intermarried in the deep south. Of course, much of that happened during the depression, or in the economic woes after the Civil War. Now, Mom was not real keen on the odor that collards perfume the house with. But Grandma, her mother? Get out of her way and don't get between her and the pot! Tobasco? Would rather have hot, pickled pepper sauce, homemade from the season before, on my greens, or most anything else. I love the bite of vinegar. Mayonnaise? Hate it on the sandwich, would rather eat one dry. Seriously. But in a salad? Miracle Whip or homemade. Now, tell me what you think, young man, of the results of your exploration. I am very curious.

Hmm, so I guess you haven't explained to him that it is just the end of the ham? That's smart, silence is golden. And you get the hock without the wrestling match!

Wonderful article. It has always been my philosophy, and my parents philosophy before mine, and heck my grandparents philosophy before them: "If we don't have anything else, we still eat good!" Always been a point of pride. I am proud of you guys.

My husband would stage a revolt if I discarded the hock! He considers them his personal property, regardless of the source - greens, beans, peas or butterbeans! I can use some good quality salt pork from time to time, but he always pouts a bit. The man is six feet tall, weighs only 150, and his cholesterol is non existant. Go figure.

I've cooked turnip greens in the manner you describe. Quite tasty, but will have to try the oyster sauce and sesame oil next time I do it. It sounds good, and turnip greens are tender enough. I have also substituted Kale for Mustard greens when I was craving Turnips and Mustard and couldn't find any. Call it "Southern Fusion".....

Oh, the pressure cooker is really the way to go. It not only tenderizes the collards, but it pulls all that porky goodness out of the hocks! My secret is a little onion and bell pepper sauted in butter at the start. Some people sweeten their greens with cane syrup, but I don't care for the flavor it imparts. A small yellow onion and about a quarter bell pepper, sauted in butter, is enough to sweeten the entire bunch of greens. I saute them in the bottom of the pressure cooker, throw in two smoked ham hocks, two knorr ham bullion cubes, water, and the collards washed, rolled and cut into strips. I try to remove the bigger stems when cleaning them, because I don't think ANYTHING will tenderize the bigger sticks, but my hubby kind of likes them. Snap on the lid, process the whole mess just at pressure for about an hour. Let the pot cool down, taste the pot likker for saltiness and add salt if necessary, and then simmer covered for another hour or two. The greens are always tender, the hocks have fallen apart, and the whole pot is full of sweet, yummy collards. Done! Now I am really hungry!

Say what you will about living in hurricane country, but one of the bonuses is that everything goes when the electric is out for days at a time. After the last two hurricane season's, I think the neighborhood BBQ free for all may become an annual event if we are fortunate to avoid a long power outage next summer!

I've often wondered myself, when I examine the foods I love the most, if my Chemistry Professor in college was not correct when he told the entire class one day that I was an "inside out oreo, with the white fluffy stuff on the outside." After the last week of eating various, very good, seafood dishes and beef wellington the day before yesterday, I am craving a pot of collards right now. I mean, really craving a pot of collards! I am sort of a family joke, in that I can live off pot likker and cornbread. I eat it for breakfast the next morning. Chicken? Pan fried, and the wing is my favorite because I like to gnaw on the wing tip. Livers and gizzards battered, fried and served with a side of ketchup? I'm there! Pork BBQ? I want it so messy I need a bib and have to lick the grease off my fingers! Although I wouldn't bring them into the house because of the freakout factor from the rest of the family, I have enjoyed a plate of fried (not boiled, can't do boiled) chitterlings several times in my life. Now, I am hearing that all this is "slave food" according to the food anthropology eggheads. Funny, it was just the way my lily white family ate. If I had to choose what cusine I would be limited to the rest of my life, give me the fried chicken, rice and gravy, cornbread and greens! Yep, definitely a pot of collards going into the pressure cooker this afternoon.