It’s a shame that in the land of red beans, alligators, cochon de lait, the praline, and spillway crawfish, some things are destined never to change.
I always found the rumors (rather than real live graft and corruption I can witness to) that swirl around regional politics in that area to be most entertaining. In particular, the idea that The Kingfish himself, Huey Long, decreed the cantilevered truss bridge over the Mississippi at Baton Rouge have a lacking vertical clearance to prevent ocean freighters from going any farther north on the river.
Did you all get your peas and cabbage today?
I did. Along with perhaps the best Mexican Cornbread muffins I believe I have ever made.
Here’s to good luck in the New Year.
De-evolving corporate agriculture and moving back to the local farm. A yard egg is indeed a beautiful thing. It’s a shame that kids don’t know the difference today. Bless these folks for making an effort at educating people about where their food comes from.
Eating Alabama Trailer from Moon Winx Films on Vimeo.
I want to see this film.
I forget what my tiny little tomatoes are called. Sun Sugar, I think. I have three plants that just blew up this year. I finally gave up and let them have their way with the corner of my cultivated space they call home. The vines are snarled and unruly and huge and full of spiders. But they have produced an insane amount of little golden tomatoes. I bet I have eaten my weight right off the vine while weeding or watering or completing other garden-type tasks. They are hard to refuse.
They make fantastic soup, too. Thinking it must be a fight to make a quart of soup out of teeny tomatoes? It is. But you have no idea how many of these jokers I have picked this year. The usual red varieties I planted have lagged far behind. Add to that the demand for my homemade tomato soup around here, and I was burning daylight in terms of filling empty Mason jars. So the first few batches, with the exception of the stray, ripe, and painfully small Early Girl or Beefsteak, are almost exclusively created from tiny Sun Sugars. I certainly wasn’t going to waste them.
And it’s not that big of a job, either. I only peel the large tomatoes. It doesn’t take a Cordon Bleu to figure out the futility of attempting to peel these tiny tomatoes. So, the little ones go in whole and succumb to the power of a commercial stick blender quite nicely. The texture of the final product is very pleasant. No doubt the flavor is absolutely booming. And I am sure the health benefits of peel and all are boosted as well.
It only takes about 3 to 4 hours to go from this….
I’ve managed about 8 quarts so far exclusively from the Sun Sugars, and yessir, that is a lot of tomatoes. Once the red tomatoes hit their stride, I might end up with 15 to 18 quarts before it is all said and done. Cross your fingers…..
Now to whomp up a loaf of fresh bread.
Leafing through the film archives of the Southern Foodways Alliance…
Good lord, I miss Mississippi.
My West Coast relations wondered in mild panic when I salvaged a tomato sauce can from the recycling in order to cut dough into discs. Their fears were relieved upon one magical bite.
I have offered simple praise for a simple buttermilk biscuit before. Essayist John T. Edge elevates the Southern everyman’s morning staple to an art form.