The anthropology of poultry

[Fresser]

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!)

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.

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Oy, what a shonda to even think of a porkathon! Now a shtup-a-thon, that's more like it! True to my tribal roots, shtup-a-thons and even noogie sessions are often followed by trays of smoked fish, onion rolls, cream cheese and extra-pulpy orange juice. We save the fried chicken for more sedate refueling sessions.

Now Diva, darling: just what is a "Shvester," anyway? You couldn't mean schvartze, could you?

[andiesenji]

I am fixing Hoppin' John on New Years Day! Always do, even when it is just me.

We always had it when I was a child (for some reason I often got the lucky dime!) and it wouldn't seem right without it.

[divalasvegas]

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!)

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.

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Oy, what a shonda to even think of a porkathon! Now a shtup-a-thon, that's more like it! True to my tribal roots, shtup-a-thons and even noogie sessions are often followed by trays of smoked fish, onion rolls, cream cheese and extra-pulpy orange juice. We save the fried chicken for more sedate refueling sessions.

Now Diva, darling: just what is a "Shvester," anyway? You couldn't mean schvartze, could you?

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Hard to believe I know but I know very little Yiddish.

And the thought of.....................................

trays of smoked fish, onion rolls, cream cheese and extra-pulpy orange juice.

.............................. has me feeling somewhat verklempt.

From my limited research Shvester is Yiddish for sister. Unfortunately, I couldn't find any Yiddish word for "sistah" so that was as close as I got.

Doesn't schvartze mean "black?" I remember an interview with Arnold Schwarzenegger when he explained the English translation of his name. He said that the first part, Schwarzen meant black and that the second part meant plowman or farmer I believe.

Now go and tawlk amongst yourselves.

[moosnsqrl]

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!  

I think you're looking at 48 steps - minimum - and I'm sure there are issues that haven't even begun to surface. You're very brave to even attempt it. Believe me, it will be a megillah.

[divalasvegas]

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!)

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.

←

Oy, what a shonda to even think of a porkathon! Now a shtup-a-thon, that's more like it! True to my tribal roots, shtup-a-thons and even noogie sessions are often followed by trays of smoked fish, onion rolls, cream cheese and extra-pulpy orange juice. We save the fried chicken for more sedate refueling sessions.

Now Diva, darling: just what is a "Shvester," anyway? You couldn't mean schvartze, could you?

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Excuse me Fresser but that's LA SHAWNDA to you, okay?

[annecros]

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.

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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?

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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.

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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.

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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?

[divalasvegas]

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?

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You are so dear annecros and I totally concur with what you have said about how food is this country (and definitely elsewhere) is an amalgam of many cultures and I'm so grateful for it. Because of how well your personality shines through in what you post, I wouldn't worry about anyone here holding your DAR association against you.

Peace, Have a Happy New Year, and dunk that cornbread in that pot likker at least one time for me.

[annecros]

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[annecros]

We never had any euphanisms for food.  It was simply just "pigs feet", "duck tongue", or "pig snouts".  Sometimes, silence is golden.

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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.

[I_call_the_duck]

We never had any euphanisms for food.  It was simply just "pigs feet", "duck tongue", or "pig snouts".  Sometimes, silence is golden.

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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.

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Can't bring myself to eat brains.

Funny you should mention tongue. I love it. I think we call it called gnow lei, and I didn't think twice about eating it the way my dad prepared it. Until I actually saw a tongue in the fridge of a house where I was house-sitting. It wasn't just tongue, it was a tonuge. I mean, you can tell it was a tongue. It grossed me out for a while, until my fondness for it got the better of me.

Edited December 30, 2005 by I_call_the_duck (log)

[I_call_the_duck]

I plan on making (oven) fried chicken and mac n’ cheese this weekend. Spare ribs too. What does that make me? There’s no way I’d be mistaken for DAR.

Fresser, according to yiddishdictionaryonline.com, Shvester means “sister”, or shall we say “sistah”? Shvesterkind means “cousin” (male or female).

Annecros, I'm glad you embrace your muttiness. There's nothing wrong with being a mutt--they’re usually smarter and nicer.

Edited December 30, 2005 by I_call_the_duck (log)

[annecros]

I plan on making (oven) fried chicken and mac n’ cheese this weekend.  Spare ribs too.  What does that make me?  There’s no way I’d be mistaken for DAR.

Fresser, according to yiddishdictionaryonline.com, Shvester means “sister”, or shall we say “sistah”?  Shvesterkind means “cousin” (male or female).

Annecros, I'm glad you embrace your muttiness.  There's nothing wrong with being a mutt--they’re usually smarter and nicer. 

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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?

[Fresser]

Let's open up another can of worms. 

It could be the inner Chinese in you.  Speaking in a completely general and tongue-in-cheek manner, dark meat is the choice of my people.   

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Mu gai, Karen.

Ji duo qian gai mee?

Duo cai,

Fresser

[MarketStEl]

(annecros' initial Journey Into Negritude deleted)

You've alluded to this yourself in succeeding posts, but I'm going to wager that your family hails from the Deep South.

[...]

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.

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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.

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Was going to comment on this last night, but I had to do a little shopping, a little cooking and a little resume writing (other people's, not my own; I'm getting paid for this).

Anyway, one of those very poorly kept secrets in the South--and possibly the reason Southern racism became so extraordinarily virulent--was the degree of illicit interracial mixing that went on. Most African-Americans would have complexions and faces closer to those of our African brothers and sisters were this not the case. (Take a look at my avatar or any picture of me posted on this site--you'll see me carrying a turkey out of my kitchen if you go over to the "Dinner!" thread in Cooking--for a case in point. I can't tell you what form the mixing took, and in my case, it may have been licit, for Grandma Smith spoke at some length about the Scots and Irish ancestry in our family. That ancestry is one reason why my dad Sandy Sr., my brother Sean and I all have first names usually given to young men of Celtic descent.)

And even where there wasn't a whole lotta shtuppin' goin' on, there was certainly a lot of cross-cultural exchange. The funny thing is, individual black and white Southerners often achieved a level of intimacy rarely seen among their Northern counterparts, a fact reflected in the old saying, "In the South, they don't care how close you get, as long as you don't get too big. In the North, they don't care how big you get, as long as you don't get too close."

(Ohmigawd! I just revealed the genetic basis of my own Oreoness! I'm gonna have to go hide in a closet...oh, wait, I can't do that either, having spent so much time and energy coming out of one back in the early 1980s...)

BTW, Anne, I have no problem wrapping my brain around your dual white-trash/DAR heritage. It's those prissy Northerners who turned up their noses at the thought of Marian Anderson sullying their precious Constitution Hall that got my blood boiling. (Yes, that was so 1936. But some historical memories die hard.)

As for mayonnaise vs. Miracle Whip: I can go either way. Except on tomatoes. Really juicy ripe tomato slices beg for Miracle Whip when they're not crying out for just a little salt.

Edited December 30, 2005 by MarketStEl (log)

[annecros]

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.

Edited December 30, 2005 by annecros (log)

[I_call_the_duck]

Let's open up another can of worms. 

It could be the inner Chinese in you.  Speaking in a completely general and tongue-in-cheek manner, dark meat is the choice of my people.    

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Mu gai, Karen.

Ji duo qian gai mee?

Duo cai,

Fresser

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Fresser,

Now the outer banana is saying, I lost you at mu gai.

[MarketStEl]

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!

I think I'm one of the few eGullet Society members who has bothered to post a capsule bio on his member profile. You'll find the answer to your geographic question there. The only connection my hometown has with the South is that slavery was legal in both, and both had legal segregation in the post-Civil War era. (The road to Brown v. Board of Education passed through the Show-Me State in the form of a case called Missouri ex rel. Gaines v. Canada, concerning a black man denied admission to the University of Missouri law school.) Actually, that's not quite true--during the Civil War, Missouri had two state governments, one pro-Union, the other pro-Confederate, and the conflict tore the state in two, with one of the war's major battles--the Battle of Westport--taking place in what is now Kansas City's silk-stocking district.

One of my earliest political memories is that of a rather tumultuous 1964 municipal referendum in which voters narrowly approved a city ordinance banning racial discrimination in public accommodations. That election is said to be the point where Kansas City's black population became an important political force.

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.

Sounds like you had a great family. Nobody was turned away at Grandma's, either, though the Smith side of the family isn't that big--it's the Davises (Mom's family) that had the big gatherings. (The Davises also lacked the black-bourgeois pretensions of the Smiths. Dad was the cook growing up, but it was Mom who cooked the chitlins. My attitude towards this signature dish reflects the Smith family inheritance. )

Marian Anderson the lovely woman with the lovely voice? I was not aware that she was the victim of yankee intolerance.

Take care.

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This was one of those watershed events in black American history.

I'm sure you've seen footage somewhere of Anderson's famous outdoor concert on the steps of the Lincoln Memorial in the late 1930s (1939, I believe).

That concert took place where it did because the Daughters of the American Revolution refused to let her perform in Constitution Hall, their auditorium in Washington that was the city's best music hall at the time, when Anderson was on a national tour.

DAR member Eleanor Roosevelt publicly and loudly renounced her membership over the insult and arranged to have the concert take place outdoors, in front of an audience larger far larger than Constitution Hall could possibly hold.

All this typing has made me hungry. Anyone for fried chicken and collard greens?

[annecros]

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.

[Zucchini Mama]

^ Interesting discussion on Southern cuisine. There's an article in the December issue of Gourmet Magazine you may enjoy called "LowCountry Lowdown" by Jack Hitt discussing "Gullah" cuisine.

For those who like a fusion of Scottish and Chinese comfort food, "Gung haggis fat choy!"

Zuke

[annecros]

^ Interesting discussion on Southern cuisine. There's an article in the December issue of Gourmet Magazine you may enjoy called "LowCountry Lowdown" by Jack Hitt discussing "Gullah" cuisine.

For those who like a fusion of Scottish and Chinese comfort food, "Gung haggis fat choy!"

Zuke

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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.

[Fresser]

Are you sure it's not just a misplaced love of shmalz?

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Right on target, Moose 'n Squirrel!

In 1999, at the University of Chicago's Latke-Hamentaschen Symposium, professor of neonatology William Meadow stated,

"Remember Fats Domino? It can be revealed here tonight that to avoid anti-Semitic prejucide in the R&B industry he had his name changed; it used to be Shmaltz Domino."

[Pontormo]

Wasn't sure where to post: here, under Green Bean Casserole or the new thread on cooking greens.

However, a New Year's resolution of mine was to buy at least one thing every week that I have never cooked before...until the adventure became too routine.

This weekend it was organic collard greens.

Cooked the traditional way with bacon and onions and garlic with a tingle of cayenne and cider vinegar, ummm! Wow! (My first.)

I am Scottish and English on one side, Swedish and Irish on the other. But were I of loftier pedigree, related to Thomas Jefferson, I'd know there's a little Sally Hemings coursing through my blood.