You can take the girl out of the south...
... but you can't take the southern food outta the girl.
That's how the old adage goes, right? Well, something like that. I have truly enjoyed the food here: meat pies, fish and chips, bangers and mash, it is all quite delicious! I am also thankful for the variety of foods in the local grocery store, so that when I get a hankering (yes, hankering) for southern food, it is not too difficult to find. Like this week, when I was really craving fried okra.
I absolutely love fried okra. My mom used to have several big "fries" during the summer when the vegetables were just right - we would have fried green tomatoes, fried okra and even some fried peppers that I was tricked into eating. When I went to Cracker Barrel, I would always order, no matter the time of day, An Old Timer's Breakfast complete with biscuits and cheese grits with a side of fried okra. I know it was strange, but when they are available, I just can't turn them down. Some of my very favorite days in the Shades Cahaba cafeteria are the days when mac and cheese is served on the same day as fried okra; it is one of the happiest days of the month!
However, I don't really like to fry things. Yes, my reason should be because of the fattiness of the oil, but it is not. It is the popping of the oil that scares me. I found a recipe last year for breaded okra that is just perfect. I slice the okra, dampen it with olive oil, then coat it with Bisquik. After about 30 minutes in the oven, they come out golden brown with the perfect crunch. So this week, I've thoroughly enjoyed the Jordan-grown okra (it grows in hot/dry climates, so obviously it cannot be grown here) and the Bisquik that I seem to keep stock-piled just in case my local grocer stops carrying it.
Yesterday, I noticed a post from the US Embassy in London that the Atlanta Food and Wine Show was in town. Excitement doesn't even begin to describe my feelings: elation, bliss, ecstatic, I'm not sure what word would do the emotion justice. I quickly inquired to find out more, realizing that I could quite possibly make it down to London for some time this weekend, only to discover that it is actually tomorrow, on Thursday, and it was sold out. I was terribly disappointed to learn that some true southern chefs were going to be just an hour away and I was not going to be able to sample their creations. I'm going to London tomorrow evening though for dinner with some fellow Alabamians, and I might just walk by the Embassy, hoping the fragrances of home-cookin wafts my way!
That's how the old adage goes, right? Well, something like that. I have truly enjoyed the food here: meat pies, fish and chips, bangers and mash, it is all quite delicious! I am also thankful for the variety of foods in the local grocery store, so that when I get a hankering (yes, hankering) for southern food, it is not too difficult to find. Like this week, when I was really craving fried okra.
I absolutely love fried okra. My mom used to have several big "fries" during the summer when the vegetables were just right - we would have fried green tomatoes, fried okra and even some fried peppers that I was tricked into eating. When I went to Cracker Barrel, I would always order, no matter the time of day, An Old Timer's Breakfast complete with biscuits and cheese grits with a side of fried okra. I know it was strange, but when they are available, I just can't turn them down. Some of my very favorite days in the Shades Cahaba cafeteria are the days when mac and cheese is served on the same day as fried okra; it is one of the happiest days of the month!
However, I don't really like to fry things. Yes, my reason should be because of the fattiness of the oil, but it is not. It is the popping of the oil that scares me. I found a recipe last year for breaded okra that is just perfect. I slice the okra, dampen it with olive oil, then coat it with Bisquik. After about 30 minutes in the oven, they come out golden brown with the perfect crunch. So this week, I've thoroughly enjoyed the Jordan-grown okra (it grows in hot/dry climates, so obviously it cannot be grown here) and the Bisquik that I seem to keep stock-piled just in case my local grocer stops carrying it.
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