The Recipe Box: Mangosteen

Mangosteen

From the recipe box of A. Nonymus

I have always had a fascination with food. I used to be adventurous in trying exotic or unusual food items in my youthful and carefree days, but I find as I get older I prefer the old 'tried and true' foods that are less likely to tax the body or have unpleasant reactions – still, as I reflect on the past, I find that I have had quite a few adventures of the palette...

I have a good friend who is an Executive Chef of the highest order... and he often brings me wonderful leftovers from galas and events that he caters...

About 2 years ago, 'Chef' brought by an interesting fruit called a 'Mangosteen' which had been ordered for a very high class event... no expense spared for some rich 'foodies' ... There were a few 'leftovers' so he shared with me.

I'd never heard of a 'Mangosteen', so I was quite fascinated. Apparently these have been super rare and were even prohibited from being imported for many years -- only recently being allowed to enter the US food chain. Chef told me how to eat it, and WOW... no wonder it's known as the 'Queen of Fruits'! As a side note, the history of the Mangosteen is itself as fascinating as the fruit, and it tastes as beautiful as it looks!

I can tell you it was a remarkable experience! Try one if you ever get the chance. Truly a wonderful, and very special flavor.

How to eat:

Open the fruits' pod-like hull, and inside there are nice white segments - much like an orange. You eat those fleshy segments.

The harder outer hull is usually discarded, but is also super high in anti-oxidants. Because of this 'medicinal' property, there is a long folk medicine tradition associated with the Mangosteen fruit, with no part going to waste.

Mangosteen

Pepper, Saguaro, Paint, Troy and Misty by KimB

My grandparents had a house with some acreage in Tucson, Arizona near the Saguaro National Monument. The house was far from town on the Old Spanish Trail, which in those days was a dirt road that ran along the foothills. The washboard road rolled up and down as it followed the hills, rills and gullies along the edge of the Rincon Mountains towards the Colossal Cave, a popular tourist venue. They ran a cafe: Saguaro Corners, which was some miles from the house and located across from the National Park. They also had 5 horses.

The horses lived in paddocks behind the house and when visitors came, the horses were saddled up by Grandfather and off they would go for a look at the desert scenery. Grandfather and Grandmother were careful to match the horses with the abilities of the riders or lack there of. Some horses were more gentle than others and as really no one in the family knew much about horses, it was a good thing that overall they were kind horses but not without a bit of mischief if they could get by with it.

There was Pepper and her foal Saguaro. Pepper was Grandmother's horse and she was very particular about who rode her. Pepper could be a handful if you were not paying attention and Saguaro was a very insistent colt. When he got hungry and wanted to nurse, he would nip at the toes of the rider to get them to stop so he could have a snack. There was a LOT of nibbling if the ride took too long.

There was Paint. A beautiful Tobiano paint horse. Unfortunately no one could ride Paint. Grandfather had told me that when he bought Paint she had been abused. She was used as a pack horse and the pack had not been properly set and had made terrible sores on her back. He and Grandmother had nursed her back to health but she could not tolerate anything on her back, like a saddle or rider. When, on occasion someone did try to ride her, she would sit down and that would end the attempt. Of course, now a days there are ways to relieve pain and more rehab that can be done, but way back then there wasn't much available. So Paint lived a pleasant life with her horse friends in the paddock with brushings, baths and treats.

There was Troy a retired race horse. Troy was a favorite with the men because he could run fast. And fast he was! When the men would have races Troy was always the winner. I never got to ride Troy, as I as a little kid, but I remember seeing him out distancing all the other horses. There was just one problem with Troy and the other horses – the homeward part of any ride. The horses all knew where “home” was and each would try to get there first. Whenever the riding party headed home, Troy would be the first one to bolt and then one by one the others would follow. It was a “fast” trip home and Troy would be the first one at the barn.

When the homeward bolt was “on”, all the riders were told to “zig and zag with the horse” as they went around all the cactus, 'cause a “zag” at the wrong moment would land you in a pile of thorns. Grandfather was adept at removing cactus thorns from those unfortunates who “zagged” when they should have “zigged”.

Then there was Misty. Misty. Misty. Misty. A horse forever in my heart. She was first horse that I rode and one that I owned later on. She was sooo very special. Grandfather taught me to ride her when I was 3 years old. She was that kind of horse. She was a fea-bitten grey horse and was without any behavior faults. Grandfather used to put me on her and let me ride around the house by myself. After a bit he would come and collect me for lunch and then later he would boost me back up and I would spend hours just walking around or standing under a Palo Verde tree lying on her neck asleep.

Once when I when we were walking under a Palo Verde, a branch got snagged on my shirt. As Misty continued to walk forward I was lifted off the saddle by the branch. Misty stopped in mid-stride and did not move an inch. I would have fallen off had she done so. I screamed bloody murder for help and out came Grandmother and Grandfather to see what the commotion was about. There I was half dangling from a tree and Misty standing absolutely still to prevent my fall. The branch was soon dislodged and Misty got extra treats that night from everyone.

I have had many horses since Misty and I have a personal theory about how each horse is remembered, I call it the Every Other Horse Theory. The odd numbered horses (1,3,5) are “good” horses and even numbered ones (2,4,6) are “not so good”. This is because, you decide the current horse (1) is not suitable for whatever you are doing and you get another horse (2) as a replacement. But the new horse (2 or even numbered) does not live up to its predecessor, so you get another horse which is superior (another odd numbered horse). The chain goes on as you replace each horse for a new and better version.

There is one horse that can never be replaced: EVER. And that is the FIRST horse. The Number 1 horse in the list. Every horse after that, will never match the first horse that you love. Misty was my first horse and no horse can duplicate her. I have had great horses like "Thunder" who stole my heart the first time I saw him, but Misty is irreplaceable and the memories of her and riding the desert are like Golden Showers of Happiness.

[Editor's note: This story was written by KimB]

Horse Brushes

Whale Watching

Last night I watched a delightful Nova documentary about a baby whale. It was fascinating to see it learning to mimic its mother making the various crashing and slapping movements on the surface of the water. I didn't know baby whales stayed close to their mothers for such a long time after birth. I had assumed they just went swimming away after being born, but such is not the case. Whale mothers are very protective of their young and only abandon them when they are ready to fend for themselves.

The only opportunity I have these days to watch whales is on television. I watch episodes of Whale Wars on Animal Planet. The attempts to stop and prevent the Japanese ships from catching and processing whale meat for sale in Japan is a real battle being waged between the Japanese factory ship, its fleet of ships that catch the whales and the ships of protestors fighting with non lethal weapons. The protestors have experienced some hazardous moments and have escaped serious injury to date.

Many years ago when I lived in the Los Angeles area, there were radio announcements saying whales migrating south could be seen from an area near the Long Beach Pier. I drove my Corvair van to Long Beach and picked up Grandmother A, who was in her mid 90s, and told her we would go whale watching. We sat in the car, facing the ocean and scanned the water for signs of whales while we chatted. We sat there for a long time but nary a whale did we see, so we decided to leave.

On the way back to Grandmother's, the wind suddenly blew a huge tumbleweed down the street toward my van. It was massive! It took a moment for me to realize it was a tumbleweed. As I braked the Corvair van, which had its engine in the rear of the vehicle with only the windshield separating the driver's bench seat from the highway, both Grandmother and I gasped as it hit the windshield. Being a tumbleweed, it didn't cause any damage and the wind swept it away from the car and on down the street. Both Grandmother and I sat stunned for a moment as we realized we had been hit by a tumbleweed. We had a good laugh about it, but it had been a frightening moment.

I was greatly relieved not to have endangered Grandmother and after I delivered her home safely, I did not make any more attempts to watch whales.

Baby Whale Gets Friendly With Visitors

The Recipe Box: Creamy Pasta Sauce

Creamy Pasta Sauce

From the recipe box of Esther

1 cup sour cream
1/2 cup parmesan cheese
1 cup of small curd cottage cheese
1/2 cup finely diced onion
1 can petite diced tomatoes with liquid
Add seasoning to your taste: Parsley, Italian seasoning etc

Your choice of pasta

Add everythihg to a sauce pot and gently heat up while stirring to keep it smooth.
Serve over hot cooked pasta and enjoy.

You can improve on this by adding chicken or shrimp, they will add another flavor level.

Creamy Pasta Sauce

Meetin' At The Cafe

Mom and Dad enjoyed desert living when they operated Saguaro Corners. The cafe bordered the grounds of the National Park and was far enough away from the city of Tucson, that the tentacles of civilization had not yet reached the area. The 'locals' were ranch owners, cowboys, and the few tourists that came to the park.

Adeline and her husband,Larry, with their children, Michael, Virginia, Mark and David lived in Tucson, but prior to their work at Hughes Aircraft, neither family had any experience living in the desert.

The desert is fascinating and beautiful, but laws of nature hold sway here like no other place on the planet. There are seasons, each with its own characteristic, but they meld, and if familiar with them one can appreciate the desert. The Saguaro and Occatillo cacti are only two of the many types of cacti in the area but they are the ones tourists think of when they think 'desert'.

On the occasions when my siblings and I met at the cafe we pitched in and helped Mom and Dad with their plans for expansion. They first created a large cement patio which later was turned into a glass enclosed room where patrons could watch the varied wild life come to a rock garden and drink from a shallow pool.

The original 6 stools where customers sat to eat burgers was turned into a small bar separate from the main dining room. It wasn't long before they added a small gift section offering turquoise jewelry and other mementos and souvenirs.

During their stay in Arizona, the folks acquired several horses and when we came to visit, riding was always at the top of our list of things to do. The cowboys helped Mom and Dad choose gentle horses so grandchildren could ride without worry, but there was one horse that only Mom and Dad could ride. It was a beautiful brown and white paint horse named Paint. If anyone attempted to ride, it just sat down. I had never seen a horse sit before but it actually sat on its haunches and wouldn't move. Uncle Pat thought he could ride it but as soon as he was in the saddle, the horse sat down. Our laughter didn't deter Pat from trying several times though. Misty was the gentlest of horses and everyone's favorite. Misty, aptly named because she was gray and slightly dappled had been used on roundups and was neck reigned.

It was always a pleasure to see a road runner and glimpse quail. One was always on the look out for snakes, especially rattlers. Coyotes were active at night. The hot sunny days took ones breath away and mare's tail clouds in the sky only hinted at something called 'rain'. When it did rain, water flowed down shallow ravines called 'washes' and could dangerously catch one unaware in a flash flood. I had heard stories of how dangerous those incidents could be but I only understood the power of those sudden rains when I saw the Pantano running. The force of the water was so great nothing would have stopped it. It was frightening just to watch and I understood how one could be drowned in seconds when the washes were running.

Flash Flood July 30, 2006 in Tucson, AZ
West of the Sabino Canyon Road bridge.

The Recipe Box: Smokey Corn Salad

Smokey Corn Salad

From the recipe box of KimB

½ of a 1 lb bag of frozen roasted corn kernels
10-20 leaves of fresh mint
10-20 leaves of fresh cilantro
2 tbsp olive oil
1 tbsp chopped fire roasted Anaheim chilies
2 green onions
2 tbsp maple syrup
pinch of salt if needed

Trader Joe's carries the frozen roasted corn kernels. You can use regular frozen sweet corn kernels if you cannot find the roasted kind.

Dressing

Finely chop the fresh mint and cilantro and place in a bowl. Drizzle the olive oil over the herbs to prevent them from turning color.
Chop the green onions and add to the bowl
Add in the roasted green chilies.
Add the maple syrup

Stir everything and taste. It should have a pleasant sweet and minty taste. Adjust quantities as needed.

Dish Preparation

Mix the frozen roasted corn kernels with the dressing. Make sure the kernels are well coated.
Cover and place in the fridge.

By the time the corn has thawed it will have adsorbed all the dressing and is ready to serve.




Smokey Corn Salad



My Generic or Not So Royal Wedding by KimB

One can certainly say that the British know how to do Pomp and Circumstance. No one else really does it quite as well. The recent Royal Wedding was beautiful even if you are not “into” royalty. I remember getting up early in the morning to watch Prince Charles and Diana's wedding and also her funeral. I was completely amazed at how everything just ticked off seemingly without a hitch.

Of course there are many documentaries now about exactly how they do it. It really IS rocket science and they know moment to moment what is and is not supposed to happen. Of course, the “Royals” spend their lives having to do it day in and day out, most of the rest of us, get one or two days in our lives to “have a go”. One almost universal event is: The Wedding.

Weddings have always been a bit of mystery to me and I never really “got it”. I remember as a young teenager listening to my female cousins and friends describe the kind of wedding they wanted. There were lots of ideas about dresses, veils, which church, garden parties, receptions, the number of guests and all the other items that go into the modern wedding ceremony. I sat mostly glazed over with boredom until we would decide to do something more my speed, like go to a movie or down to The Mall for a hamburger.

As my cousins grew up, they in turn got married and many had their dream weddings or had redesigned them to meet new circumstances and desires. Whether it was luck or not, I never had to attend them. We moved frequently, and when wedding costs began to spiral, it was just fine with me if I wasn't on the “invite” list. Even as an adult, with my close friends, I preferred to wait until after they returned from their travels and then have a get together to hear about their adventures in a more relaxed setting. My happiness and best wishes for them was no less and it didn't require my presence “at THE moment”.

When I met Allen, I knew from the start that he was a “special” person. I don't think it was “love at first sight”, but it was pretty clear that we had a bond from our first meeting. We started to spend some time together and we had many discussions about our age difference. Having a December/May relationship needed some serious thought before either of us were willing to commit to any type of romantic involvement. In due course, we decided to give it a trial and began our lives together.

One evening, Allen called to me, “Kim, I need to talk to you.”

This generally meant that some financial or other aspect of home life needed a conference. So, I sat next to him on the couch and waited for him to explain what needed to be reviewed. He looked extremely uncomfortable and I just waited for him to begin. After some moments, he fished into a pocket and handed me a jewelry box. Allen had given me jewelry before but this was obviously a ring box and he nodded for me to open it. Inside was a beautiful sapphire ring with several small diamonds around it. I knew Allen didn't like diamonds and preferred the corundum stones like rubies and sapphires, so I wasn't surprised at the stone but I was surprised at how uncomfortable he seemed and it was clear that this ring was not just “any” ring.

“Is there a speech that is supposed to go with this?” I asked him.

It took him a few more moments to gather his wits and voice and then he said, “Kim, will you marry me?”

Well, there wasn't any doubt or hesitation on my part about the answer: “YES!” it was.

Soon after I graduated from college, the day came when we decided to actually get married and we sat together to figure out how and when to do it. Allen was most relieved that I did not want a big wedding or lots of guests or fancy reception. I wanted it to be as simple as possible and no fuss. We decided that Reno would be the best place: fast, close by and not that expensive.

We picked a date and gathered two of Allen's closest friends to be our witnesses and we headed to Reno for the weekend. It was a hot and clear day when we arrived and we followed the signs to city hall to get the paper work. We stood in line with other couples waiting for the clerks to handle whatever paper work was needed. It took a goodly while before we got to the top of the queue and we were getting very nervous as we approached the clerk. Papers where stamped and signatures were required. I signed first but Allen hesitated and looked in a panic.

I asked him, “Are you having second thoughts?”

“No,” he replied. “My hand is shaking too much to hold the pen.”

We had a nervous giggle and he managed to sign the papers needed.

Our plan had been to get the paper work, go to the motel and dress up in some nice clothes and come back later on to have the paper's formalized in one of the many wedding places around the city hall. But it was very hot and both Allen and I felt extremely nervous, so I suggested that we just do it “right now”. I figured, we would both be even more nervous in a few hours and standing around in 100 degree heat in a suit and tie for him and a wool jacket and skirt for me was just going to make things worse. So, we looked around to see what was near by.

We skipped the Elvis Drive Thru Chapel and selected another one that had a small white building with a nice lawn and some trees around it. Allen left to park the car in a longer term parking area and I went across the road to make the arrangements. My confusion was about to be complete.

When I went into the building a nice woman greeted me and I told her that I wanted to get married and showed her the papers from the city hall. I told her my soon-to-be husband was parking the car and could she please explain how much it would cost and the process.

Well, like most good sales people she started with: How many guests, flowers etc etc etc. I said I didn't want any of that, I just wanted to get married and there were only the 4 of us. She started again offering more “options” like wedding pictures and reception party. I told her I didn't want any of that either. I was beginning to panic because it was starting to sound like all the old childhood conversations my cousins and friends had had and it was getting more and more complicated.

Finally, I said, “I just want a Generic Wedding. Can you do that?”

She looked a bit stunned and said, “Well, I've never heard it called that before but yes we can do something simple.”

I felt relieved and expected her to just stamp my paper work so we could go on to our evening plans of dinner and a show (our wedding gift from our friends). Unfortunately, you cannot just get your paper work stamped. I am still at a total loss about why not, but it seems that someone has to say “words” or it isn’t valid. She was quite adamant about it, some one has to say “words” and only then can the paper work be stamped. I said I would pay for whatever but couldn't we just skip “the words” part? Alas, the answer was no.

So, Allen and I and our two friends were shown into the chapel area and a nice man came out and started the “standard speech”. I don't know how I lasted thru it but I did. In due course the speech was over, the “I Do”s were done and the paper work stamped. I couldn't wait to leave the building and recover under the cool shade of the trees.

My wedding attire was a pair of old jeans, cowboy boots and a Cal State Hayward sweatshirt. Allen was wearing an old pair of corduroy pants and plain shirt. I couldn't have been happier!

I don't know how anyone lasts thru a long and complicated ceremony. My 10 minutes or so of “being the center of attention” was way way more than I ever wanted. The outcome of our nervousness and panic has lasted more than 30 years now and Allen and I still laugh about our “Generic Wedding”.

[Editor's note: This story was written by KimB]

Not Like The 1947 Royal Wedding

Knitted Blanket

My daughter asked me to knit a blanket for her queen size bed. I laughed!

I told my, sister Esther. She laughed!

I didn't want to refuse, but the task was daunting to say the least. The challenge piqued my interest though, and I began searching the internet for designs appropriate for a queen size blanket. I came across a photo of a beautiful hand knitted blanket displayed on a full size bed. The design of the blanket showed that it was made by an advanced knitter, but I could knit a blanket of a simpler design.

I tackled the problem straight away with PLAN A. It would be plain flat knitting with a non curling border. The blanket was to be 80”x80” @ 4 stitches per inch, which would mean 320 stitches across each row of knitting. I would have to buy new 47 inch circular knitting needles, but they were expensive and hard to find.

PLAN B came into existence. Knitting squares and sewing them together was an option even though weaving yarn ends would add to the work of sewing the squares together. I still had to pick a design that would be interesting. I surfed the net and looked at hundreds of patterns.

When I gave my sister a progress report during a computer chat, she casually mentioned finding 60 inch circular knitting needles listed in a Google search. WHAT??? I had never heard of 60 inch circular knitting needles. I immediately Googled and found 2 new ones offered for sale at Amazon for $4.95 each. I bought them both.

PLAN C allowed me to re-contemplate a one piece blanket now that I had longer needles to work with, and the search for a pattern was on again. I found a wonderful 2 color Celtic design. While toying with that idea, I kept coming across photos of knitted log cabin afghans knitted in squares and joined. I decided to knit a small sample of the technique and discovered to my delight that it was EASY PEAZY knittin' !

PLAN D is a knitted Log Cabin Star pattern. I have not yet purchased the yarn in the colors I want. Still debating on the number of colors to use, but will knit the squares in warm and cool colors so light and dark surround the red center of each block. After I finish the squares and sew them together, I will use my new 60 inch circular knitting needle and knit a border around the squares.

I think PLAN D is my final choice and plan on stickin' with it!

60 inch knitting needles

Observing Changes

I often wonder what my ancestors thought when events caused profound changes in the way they lived. I wonder if realization of the consequences flashed across their minds or did they just think it was 'progress' and went along with the flow of change.

The consequences of inventions in transportation, (automobiles and airplanes), medicine, (anesthetics, antibiotics and vaccinations), and technical discoveries of radio, telephone and computers have changed the lives of people around the world.

Some changes bring benefits with them, for example labor saving devices such as the simplest egg beater to huge earth movers, but catastrophic creations like the atom bomb have increased the suffering, misery and worry of human kind around the globe.

When Grandma A gazed at the first sputnik streaking across the sky above Long Beach, she joined the rest of us in thinking it a marvel. When the first steps were taken on the moon, I thought that marvelous achievement the grandest of all marvels.

Those events have taken us from provincialism to globalization. I'm not certain it has been for the better. On one hand it has led people living under governments controlled by tyrants and dictators to demand their civil rights. On the other hand, extreme religious beliefs threaten societies with destruction and mayhem. Included in this upheaval is the proliferation of drugs and violence.

Our observance of the tenth anniversary of 9-11 leaves my heart filled with a sadness to know that we will never again have the luxury of life as we knew it before the attack. Now, the concerns for national security rule our lives. We no longer trust our neighbors and are apprehensive when we travel.

We still talk about the 'American Dream', but it will have a different meaning for those born today than it did for me growing up in the freedoms we had before 9-11.


American Flag

  

The Recipe Box: Cow's Ears

Cow's Ears

From the recipe box of MrsB

2 large eggs
½ cup sugar
½ cup cream
½ cup melted butter
pinch of salt
1 tablespoon baking powder
2½ to 3 cups all purpose flour
splash of vanilla
powdered sugar

Beat eggs and sugar. Add cream and butter. Stir in baking powder. Slowly add 2½ cups flour. Add more flour if necessary to get rolling consistency. Roll dough out to ½ inch thickness and cut into diamond shapes. Make a small slit in the center of each and pull one end thru the slit. Drop cookies into hot oil until golden brown on both sides. Drain on paper towel and sprinkle with powdered sugar.



Fattigman Cow's Ears

 

The Recipe Box

[Note: Editor's Post]

As the gardening season is winding down, we will shift the Wednesday: How Does Your Garden Grow series to The Recipe Box.

As both MrsB and Aunt Esther have cookbooks they have shared (see the PDF downloads on the left panel), we would like others to share their recipes too.  Everyone is encouraged to participate.  ANY recipe is good, whether an original one or from another source like a cookbook or magazine.   Just something you think is tasty and others would enjoy knowing about.

Our family covers just about every country and a lot of different cultures and we have marvelous memories of great meals and how they were prepared.  Many can remember Uncle Micky's Cornish Game Hens and Fruit Chutney.  There are pie recipes to die for: Lemon Meringue or Banana Creme!  There's Kasha and Fried Chicken and Borscht of various types too.

Even if it's already been shared - share it again!  Reminders of great food and the family get togethers are always welcome!

You can email the recipes to the editor at: MrsBizzyB+"atsign"+LIVE.com

Vernon Loved to Hunt and Fish by Esther

He was a man who was born too late. He would have been great as an early American when this country was being settled many years ago. He was happy to wander every where and could of lived off the land. All he needed was a place to bed down, cook his meals over a fire and a pond big enough to bathe and have the equipment to hunt and to fish.

I met him when he was stationed at San Bruno. He was a sailor and would be going over seas soon. We dated and then wrote letters while he was stationed on Guam. When he was discharged from the Navy in San Diego, he came to Redwood City and we were married in little ceremony in my sister Marion's home.

He loved to hunt deer as often as he could, and with my brother Abby, they always came home with one dressed and ready to cook. It was Mom who knew how to season it and have it tender and delicious. Vernon was a good cook him self, and he learned a few tricks from her. One thing he did like was having the whole family together to eat, and we never failed to send out the call, “come eat” .

Vernon enjoyed being outside hunting or fishing. I learned to enjoy surf fishing with him. I did go with him when he hunted for deer but it was not my thing; fishing though was really great. When we moved to make our home in Baton Rouge, I did not like to go fishing as there were too many critters crawling and bugs that bite or sting. They never seemed to bother Vernon.

One of his favorite hunts was to gather up frogs to eat for supper. When my brother Charles came to spend a few days with us, Vernon took him hunting with him. Vernon outfitted him with a head light and battery, and a gig pole to catch the frogs with and a gunny sack to keep them in while they continued on to look for more frogs.

They started out late in the evening as the best time to catch frogs is in the night time. Frogs love swampy watery places to live in but so do snakes and other critters, not to mention the bugs, some of them are very large but the tiny bugs are the worst: they bite.  I can still imagine Charles out there in the swamp with Vernon. Charles did not like bugs or snakes and to add the dark of night and swampy waters to wade through would have made it even worse for him.

As they walked along they would see a frog, they would grab it with the gig pole and get it in to the gunny sack. They did not have to wade into deep water. The gig pole was as long as they needed. Any thing farther wasn't safe. They had good luck and there were enough frogs to have a nice meal of frog legs for all of us.

Charles was not too sure if he would ever go hunting for frogs again, as there were too many snakes and other critters to worry with, but he did love eating frog legs.

It was my Mother that show me how to make hush puppies. I loved them and they were a hit with the whole family. She learned them when they had a fishing camp in Florida. Hush puppies are small balls of corn bread batter fried in hot grease. We would fry the frog or fish and then the French fried potatoes and last the hush puppies. That is a great meal.

The name “hush puppies” comes from the story that these would be given to dogs when they would bark to quiet them and that was where the name came from: "hush puppy". Anyone would hush up and enjoy them.

I have five brothers. They all loved fishing and some of them did hunt. I know Abby was always with Vernon when in California. When they came to Louisiana, Mickey, Charles, and Jerry would go out with Vernon. The three of them found work in the gulf of Mexico and settled in Texas and when they had time, they came to visit.

My brother Richard, used to go fishing. Richard was more of a student. He was always in class and after graduation he went on to college. He did what he said he would do, and he worked to get there. He followed his dream.

[Editor's note: This story was written by Esther]

Hush Puppies