The zen of okra

The smell of frying okra makes me think of my grandmother so much, it takes my breath away. I remember her okra, her perfectly coated pieces that were not charred, not raw, but somehow the most divine the next day when they were room temperature.

It's probably my last okra of the season, and I really haven't had enough. I didn't pickle them, didn't put them in the "big plans" jambalaya I had ideas for at the beginning of the summer. No, every time I got the pods, I cut them in rounds, I fried them up, just for myself, coating them lightly in Martha White cornmeal mix, and then I ate my fill. I ate them with sandwiches, leftover pork chops, and just two days ago, hummus and carrots. I don't care; to me, it doesn't have to "go" with anything -- everything has to go with it.

I remember my Granny's Formica countertops, and how the electric skillet would sit to one side, filled with okra already fried, just sitting there with the heat off. I miss her, the way her hand would wipe the crumbs off the counter beside that electric skillet. But I am happy, because I always have the smell of okra. And I always have the memory of her.

Slow Food Sausage

It was a chilly morning in Chattanooga late last year when I visited Link 41. The little butcher shop that could wasn't officially open for business, but I was there on business as a writer, to learn about what they did and why they did it. (That's what you always look to learn when you talk to creative people, by the way.)

And tasting the sausage and bacon, it was clear Trae Moore and Tom Montague were creative.

But little did I know it was going to feel so homey. Words like "heritage breeds," "apprenticeship," "closed loop production" and "mindful eating" started to float about the room. Slow food was the language spoken here, and for me, it was like settling into the easy chair at my best friend's house.

Link 41 served some amazing mole sausage that day, crunchy with cocoa nibs that made taking a second helping a no-brainer, even if it was following the two pieces of bacon I had already consumed. I got really excited about the whole thing and wrote all about it for the Southern Food and Beverage Museum's online pub, OKRA, which is a great resource for foodies and those interested in food history.

Link 41 doesn't yet ship it's product, but after reading the article, you might want to join me in requesting that the shipping service begin. Or else you might have to plan a trip to Chattanooga ...

A worthy new online magazine

You gotta love a southern food magazine if its name is OKRA. And this one is.

Launched by the Southern Food and Beverage Museum last month, OKRA is an online magazine that explores the bood, beverage and related culture of the American South. I am truly honored to be included in the first issue, which is an ambitious jump out of the gate by editor Stephanie Carter.

Read my interview with cookbook author Holly Herrick, and spend some time clicking around the magazine. There are vintage menus, discussions of libations and much more to woo you away from work on a dreary winter's afternoon.




Look for me again in OKRA in the coming months -- I am sending more ideas Carter's way and hope she likes what she reads!