No, not the kind you drink!
My mother was born and raised in Arkansas and came to California with the other Grapes of Wrath refugees, bringing along with her all of her southern cooking. Or hillbilly cooking. I grew up on fried foods, and I’m sure you can tell by looking at any pictures of me, I still love that kind of cooking. There is also the fact that all my recipes that aren’t fried start with a cube of butter.
During summer months when I was growing up, my mother would fry okra, and it seemed like she usually had it for Sunday suppers. Or, that’s what I remember. This week we got a bag of okra in our produce box so I breaded it and fried it today. Mmmm, tasted like a summer Sunday to me. For my husband, born and raised in California by a health freak mother, not so good. He is not fond of my fried food diet, thereby keeping his slender, youthful figure. Although there was no fried chicken, we did have watermelon for dessert. More southern deliciousness.
Why is it that the things we eat as children bring us the most pleasure as adults?