We always knew it was Sunday in our house when I was a kid when Mama mixed up a batch of yeasty rolls and put a roast on to cook before church. She always added some coffee to the water for the roast, which was always tender and juicy.
Once I grew up and moved away, she would often make a roast on those weekends I visited, and sent me home with the leftovers. When I got to the point with my IBS that I couldn't digest beef very well, she switched to pork roast, and then to chicken.
But I always remember those chuck roasts. During the week, we might eat chicken or tuna patties with fried okra, squash, home fries and beans or purple hulls--all of which could be whipped up fairly quickly--but on Sunday, we dined. And oh, was it good.
I loved just about anything my mom or her mom made. Though I don't eat much fried food anymore, I do yearn for fried okra and home fries like they used to make. And on Christmas Day, instead of the traditional foods (which we had the night before at our other grandma's house), we always had chili, beans and what my oldest brother called "Nanny's Good Soup"--usually whatever was in the refrigerator at the time, including some of that year's crop of potatoes, carrots and onions.
Food has a way of taking us back to our roots, and just a scent can remind you of family dinners from decades ago. It seems Southern food in particular has that power for many readers.
Former colleague Debra Hale-Shelton reported: "Mama always made, and still does, the best salmon patties, made from canned pink salmon, of course. For unknown reasons, my dad started calling the fried gems 'salmon croquettes' a few years ago. I like to add raisins to them and, like Mama, serve them with a bowl of pinto or Great Northern beans and buttered hoe cake."
My mom did the same with salmon and tuna (though she would never think to put raisins in them). The crispiness of the outside was the best part. Friend Laurence Gray said his mom baked her salmon patties.
Laurence also said, "When we visited with my maternal grandmother in Magnolia, she would get out her ice cream maker and we would make vanilla ice cream. ... Myself and my sisters would take turns operating the crank."
That's just what we did. If we wanted the homemade stuff, we had to crank it because we didn't have an electric ice cream maker then. I think I prefer the hand-cranked.
Susan Richards, who blogs as Pied Type, told me, "I'm with you on the hand-cranked ice cream. Our was always fresh peach. Churned out under the mimosa tree. Mmm! And I haven't had any fried catfish since I left Oklahoma. (Of course here [Colorado] I much prefer fried trout.) Biscuits! Light, fluffy, made from scratch. Hot and drenched in butter."
For most of my childhood, we ate bass, along with the occasional crappie or perch and, rarely, catfish. It wasn't till I went to college in Jonesboro that I had catfish on a regular basis. Though I love it, my heart still belongs to a good piece of bass.
Jerry Slaton shared a dinner most Arkies likely remember: "Crumble up two hot water corn bread patties for a base layer. On top of that apply a generous portion well-done pinto beans with extra juice to soak into the corn bread. On top of the pintos, a liberal dose of stewed potatoes, and all that topped off with Mama's homemade chow chow. Now that is good eating right there."
Likewise, Greg Stanford said, "[H]ot water cornbread is the first food that comes to mind. It was a staple at our table but has seemed to disappear from modern menus. I cannot remember the last time I have had it, heard about it or saw it on a plate anywhere! I also have fond memories of popcorn being popped in the long-handled basket over the open fireplace in the living room. There was an art to this method!"
Joe Styles recalled, "Family dinner in the summer; to go with your fried okra: purple hull peas cooked with a little bacon, sliced tomatoes, fried salt pork and cornbread. Yum Yum!"
Like me, Joe said he remembers shelling peas with his mom using a "big bowl and a paper grocery sack for the hulls." With purple hulls, you'd have that color on your hands for at least a few days.
Steve Sorsby said fried chicken and mashed potatoes remind him of home, "Though oddly, for a Southern boy, also duck and sauerkraut. What can I say, my Mama was a Nebraska Yankee, transplanted here before I was born!"
And what dinner could be complete without dessert, especially in the South? If it's not pie, cake or ice cream, it might be what Nell Matthews remembered: "Before global sourcing of produce, strawberries were only in the store for a few weeks in late spring/early summer. Mother grew up on a farm in Poteet, Texas, once named the Strawberry Capitol of the world. So when fresh, fully ripe strawberries hit the grocery in May or June (not the hard, pale, tasteless ones bred to ship long distances), I make biscuits, slice strawberries, and whip heavy cream to eat strawberry shortcake for supper."
Biscuits are far superior to dessert shells for shortcake, especially if they happen to be chocolate.
And now my stomach's growling. Thanks, y'all.
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Assistant Editor Brenda Looper is editor of the Voices page. Read her blog at blooper0223.wordpress.com. Email her at blooper@arkansasonline.com.
Editorial on 09/18/2019