Jimmy's Gone to Flanders

A few days ago, on my way home from work, I suddenly decided to stop and visit a little old cemetery in our neighborhood. It's located on Acton Avenue and is situated on top of a hill between two houses. I have to say that I know nothing about the history of the cemetery or the families that are buried there, but I'll find out. There are maybe 15 graves, with the surnames of perhaps 5 families at the most. Most of the graves date from the late 1800's - early 1900's, with a few that are a bit more recent.

It was a lovely afternoon, a bit cool for June. I parked the car on the street and climbed up the broken brick steps (a bit precariously) that led up the hill. I got the impression that someone was keeping the weeds a bit at bay, but it was still more brushy and rocky than grassy. The first thing I saw, of course, was a yellow-jacket nest. They were boiling up out of a hole in the ground a couple of feet away from my bare legs. I managed to edge away from them without being attacked. They are the most ill-tempered creatures God ever blew breath into. They are the wolverines of the insect world. I swear they were watching me.

Having successfully avoided the yellow-jackets, I was able to walk around and take note of the names and dates, and wonder about the folks buried here - so few, and were they all related? Folks who had lived long lives, sad little baby graves, and the most prominent one - Sergt. James T. Griffin, World War Veteran. No number behind the World War, because it was the first one and no one thought that there might be a second; this was the War to End ALL Wars. Sergt. Griffin was not yet 29 when he died. I stood there on his dusty grave, wondering what he might have been like - then I realized knew enough. Here was a son who died too soon. The ground I stood upon still held the broken-hearted tears of a mother and a father, maybe a wife or sweetheart too. The words of our friend Jim Malcolm's tender and beautiful song, "Jimmy's Gone to Flanders" flooded into my mind, and I, who rarely cry, wept for this Jimmy. I saw his family standing over his fresh grave and knew that at that moment, it didn't matter to them that he died in service to his country, that he was considered a hero. All that mattered was that he was gone. Hearts too hurt to ever beat properly again. The utter waste of war. I know that some folks will argue that war is a necessary evil. I don't know, and I will not get into a debate with them. All I know is...this Jimmy was gone too soon.

I'll let Jim's lovely words speak for themselves here . The words may be from a Scot, and our Jimmy's grave in Alabama, but the emotion is universal.

I'm Back!

I survived! VBS was great fun, but I'm breathing a HUGE sigh of relief that it's done. My only regret is that I didn't get a picture of my cardboard-box Jerusalem. I was very proud of it, though I don't think the monks up at Ave Maria Grotto should feel threatened. The kids liked it too, especially when we turned it into a boat on the day that they "walked on water", cornstarch and water, that is, mixed in massive quantities. It makes a non-Newtonian fluid/solid that is truly fascinating. It's liquid and solid all at once. We filled a tub with it, and the kids literally walked upon it, the story being when Jesus appeared walking upon the water and challenged Peter to walk across the waves to him on a stormy sea. The wild thing is that when you scoop it up in your hands and squeeze it, it becomes liquid again. Very cool.
So now my summer break begins, and with it comes various summery delights......

Fancy Pears, anyone?

Now my friend Noreene's husband Dave, who is from "up north" (which should be said with a sad shake of the head and a note of pity in the voice, followed by "bless his heart") thought she was lying when she told him about Fancy Pears. No one, he said, would eat mayonnaise and pears together. Well, here's proof! Some folks call it Pear Salad. It's a staple of family reunions and a suitable and proper Funeral Food. You take a can of pears, preferably in heavy syrup. They have to be the halves in order to sit like they should. Put a dollop of mayo in the little hole (that's why they have those little hollowed-out places, to put mayo in) and then sprinkle with grated cheddar. That's all there is to it. A friend from Chicago actually shudders when he thinks about Fancy Pears. But then, he's never had one. I have to admit that I don't eat much of the mayonnaise though, just enough to flavor the pear a bit.

Fancy Pears, macaroni and cheese, and pulled pork courtesy of my sister Jackie. Bless her heart.

I'll be back....

Do not think, gentle readers, that I've flown the nest. Tomorrow, we descend into the maelstrom known as VACATION BIBLE SCHOOL...be afraid...be very afraid. I have spent a good part of the last week building Jerusalem out of cardboard boxes (tricky, because later in the week it has to convert into a ship) and today I have to finish turning the TV in the movie room into a robot. Don't ask. Tomorrow morning, the church will look like an ant farm, full of scurrying little folks and (bless them) volunteers. I get PAID to do this stuff (my job is Coordinator of Religious Education at a church school)...they do it because they're genuinely lovely people. Thanks to all of them, God bless, and I'll get that tomato sauce recipe posted when I come up for air in a week!

Peaches, Finley Avenue, and Worries About Our Truck Farmers

Last Sunday, we took ourselves out to the Birmingham Farmer's Market on Finley Avenue.
This has long been a mecca for truck farmers from all over Alabama, and you can get truly wonderful, right-from-the-vine Sand Mountain tomatoes (finest in the world) and peaches from Chilton County (also finest in the world), and most any other fruit or veggie you might desire. And it's open seven days a week!
A good number of truck farmers are setting up at our Saturday morning market known as Pepper Place. They do a nice job of it too, with arts and crafts, cooking demo's, and live music going on. Mount Laurel, south of Birmingham heading down Highway 280, also has a nice Saturday market. It's so important that we support farmers' markets whenever possible, not just for the benefit to ourselves, but also for the fact that it's getting even harder to be an independent truck farmer. Gas prices keep going up and up, making for expensive "food miles" on the farmers' end. The drought last year was catastrophic for small farmers as well. The very tired and hot, but very kindly man whom we bought a watermelon from was almost apologetic when he told me that the melon would be $6.00. That's still a bargain for a large, locally grown watermelon, considering that the insipid, flavorless little green basketballs they sell at the grocery store are running $5.00-6.00 right now. We try to make it a point to find out where the farmers we patronize are from, too. Not only do we like knowing where our produce is from, it gives us a little glimpse into a very different world from our own and we meet some really warm and interesting people.

So, don't forget to pray for the farmers, go out to the markets, and BUY LOCAL WHENEVER YOU CAN!!!

I have a confession to make.

I don't really like peach cobbler.

I know! I know! How can a Southern girl like myself even admit to that? I LOVE fresh peaches. I just don't really enjoy cooked fruit of any kind. I don't know why. Hopefully, I have enough other redeeming qualities which will allow me to be forgiven. I do love peach ice cream, does that help?

We also bought a case of tomatoes for homemade sauce. We chose the hottest day of the year thus far upon which to do this. Hours in the kitchen with a huge pot of boiling water in which to blanch the tomatoes so the skin would slide off easily, then an eternity of seeding and chopping, then hours of the finished product simmering on the stove. They say Southern ladies don't sweat, they glow. If that's the case, we were lit up like radioactive Christmas trees. The sauce is divine, though; completely worth the effort. We got the recipe from the Alabama Co-op website. Rich and with a little bit of a kick, and it "freezes beautifully", to quote Steel Magnolias. My next post will have the recipe - it needs a post all its own.

Of course, the day after we bought all those tomatoes, we hear on the news about salmonella poisoning connected to tomatoes.
Luckily, ours were local and the FDA said Alabama tomatoes were fine.
Yes, they are VERY fine!

Green Bean Philosophy

Everybody in the South knows that a vegetable, when properly prepared, must bear no resemblance to its original fresh-from-the-vine self. My mother's green beans were beyond delicious, cooked for hours with a piece of salt pork. They looked like flat little bits of army green flannel and I could eat the whole pot by myself, with some new potatoes and corn bread. Mine, when cooked this way, never match up to hers. They're good, but not AS good as Mama's were. I'm going to give you her recipe and then give you our favorite quick (much healthier, I have to say) recipe and you can prepare them both depending upon your mood, which is how one should cook whenever possible.

MAMA'S GREEN BEANS
Buy about 6 good handfuls of regular-size green beans, not the little skinny ones. Those don't work for this recipe. Go home, wash the beans well, and sit someplace comfortable because it's going to take a little while. (She usually sat on the sofa and watched "General Hospital", especially in those heady early days of Luke and Laura.) Snap the beans into pieces around 1" long, discarding the ends. When General Hospital is over, go into the kitchen and put about a 3" piece of salt pork (cut into strips), or 4 or 5 strips of bacon, into a big pot. 8-quart size is good. Render it down til it's just getting brown and DO NOT DRAIN OFF THE GREASE! Throw in your beans and add enough water to cover by a couple of inches. Add 1 and 1/2 tsps of salt to start, and you will need to check for seasoning while they cook and probably add more. You may also need to add more water as it goes along. Bring to a boil, reduce the heat to simmer, cover (put the lid on the pot slightly crooked so some steam can escape) and let it cook for at least 2 hours, or more if you have time. Give it a stir once in a while. If you like, drop some peeled new potatoes into the pot for last hour of cooking. You MUST have cornbread with these or the sky will fall on your head and all your children will grow up pigeon-toed.

This next recipe is so fast, you wouldn't have time to watch General Hospital. It's also very very yummy.

BAREFOOT CONTESSA'S GREEN BEANS
Yes, we stole this recipe. Or is it stealing when you've bought the cookbook?

1 pound of the skinny green beans that don't work for Mama's recipe
Kosher salt
2 tblspns unsalted butter
1 tblspn olive oil
3 large shallots, diced up chunky (to me, the best part of the whole thing)
Black pepper

Wash the beans, break off any stems, and trim the ends off if you like. I trim them if they look tough, otherwise I just let them be.
Blanch the beans in boiling salted water for 90ish seconds. Drain and throw them into a bowl of ice water right away to stop them cooking and set that beautiful greenness.
Heat the butter and olive oil in a 12-inch saute' pan and add the shallots. Cook them over medium heat til they're nice and brown. The fragrance will make you giddy with hunger. People will come and knock on your door and beg for toasty brown shallots.
Drain the beans and toss them in the pan with 1/2 tsp salt and black pepper to taste. Heat them only until the beans are warm.
You can blanch the beans early in the day, and then cook the shallots at the last minute. They also reheat really well. They are actually good finger food for parties. They're like green french fries only better than french fries. You could eliminate the unsalted butter altogther if you wanted a more heart-healthy recipe, and I've made it with just butter when we've been (Heaven forbid!) out of olive oil, which is pretty much the only oil we use except for baking.
These are really good with pan-seared steak (made in Mama's ancient and perfectly seasoned black iron skillet) and mushroom ragout...another recipe to come...but I've never had them with anything that they didn't compliment.

So, there are many schools of thought when it comes to green beans. I like to plant a foot in both worlds and keep my options open. Now, go cook something, y'all.

Black Belt Treasures Folk Life Festival

June 28th will hopefully see us heading down to Camden, AL for the Black Belt Treasures Folk Life Festival. Black Belt Treasures is a gallery (but so much more than that) featuring over 280 local artists (including our beloved Charlie Lucas), and this one-day festival will be highlighting their works along with music, and of course FOOD. Another wonderful part of the day is the dedication of the Gees Bend Quilt Mural Trail. Ride the Gees Bend Ferry while you're there!
http://www.blackbelttreasures.com/