Chicken, Fried; Beans, Green; Tea, Iced (Part I)

Years ago, my grandmother (on my father’s side) asked to be served a chicken thigh (the dark meat section above the drumstick), but she couldn’t think what to call it. She said, “You know, the chicken’s hip,” to describe the piece. We, of course, have never called it anything else!

Farmer's Market

Haven’t blogged lately; have been traveling to other locales and checking out their locavore action. More on that topic later. As a family (parents, siblings, in-laws and offspring), we generally get together every Saturday night and have dinner. Last night was no exception, except that dinner came almost entirely from the WNC Farmer’s Market. The…

Cornbread (Part II)

Cornbread, continued:   The edges bubble a little where a thin halo of molten oil rises atop the batter.  The oven obediently opens its mouth to receive the offering, swallowing whole this ironbound flux of gritty meal, buttermilk and oil.  In 20 minutes, more or less (depending on my father’s covert attempts to eat it…

Cornbread (Part I)

This is part of an essay-sort-of-thing I wrote for a book on cooking/life/memories in the South. It wasn’t used,  *sniff*, so I thought I’d include it here. This is the first half; the second half will appear next post.   “Staff of Life”   cornsbread: often made without milk or eggs and baked or fried…