Huckaby: There's no food like Southern food
Darrell Huckaby, a native of Porterdale, Ga, is a double graduate of UGA and a retired educator with 40 years of classroom experience.
This is my favorite time of year for eating.
Stop laughing. You’ll choke on your coffee. I know. I know. You are convinced that every season of the year is my favorite time of year for eating and honesty compels me to admit that there is some truth to that sentiment. But late July into August is really special.
That’s when everybody’s garden starts coming in - at least, for those rare individuals that still plant and gather. You can have your fancy restaurants with dishes inspired by the great chefs of several continents. Give me a Southern summer supper, with a plate full of vegetables pulled, picked and plucked from plants that were growing in the rich soil of North Georgia’s Piedmont that morning any day.
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My mama spoiled me. Even though she worked over a stand of looms in a Bibb cotton mill for eight hours a day, she still found time to grow and gather vegetables and cook marvelous meals for our family every single night.
Imagine sitting down to a table laden with fresh peas, seasoned with ham hock or fat back - pink-eyed purple hulls were - and still are - my favorite. You won’t find them in a grocery store, but if you live around Oconee County you can get fresh ones, already shelled, at the 441 Market, which is - well - down 441, near the new Oconee water tower.
Mama would fry okra almost every night, this time of year. She dipped hers in buttermilk and rolled it in a mixture of corn meal and just a tad of Bisquick. I wish I had a bit of her fried okra right now.
The crown jewel of the summer Southern supper was corn off the cob. Mama had a special way of cutting hers that made it different - and better - than any I have ever eaten. She used the same knife to cut corn my whole life and the blade was worn so thin that it was barely there. First, she would cut the tips, then she would make another run, close down to the cob. Finally, she would “milk” the cob, by scraping the juices into the pan. Then she would fry it up in a little butter and a touch of water until the liquid was gone. There ain’t nothing better. Nowhere.
Some nights she might cook speckled butterbeans or maybe sauté some fresh squash, with a little bit of onion cooked in. Every night she would slice a cucumber up into a bowl of vinegar, all seasoned with salt and pepper. And there would be sliced tomatoes, right off the vine and sliced Vidalia onions and sweet banana peppers on a serving plate.
Cornbread would be a given. The peas made magnificent pot likker and cornbread for sopping was a must. Some nights she would cook biscuits as well.
There was meat, of course. Fried chicken. Cubed steak. Salmon patties. Pork chops. Offerings such as roast beef or anything that would require the oven to remain on for long periods of time were usually prepared in cooler weather. Of course, we washed everything down with sweet iced tea.
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In fact, whether I ate at home or with a cousin or at a friend’s house, no one ever posed the question, “What would you like to drink?” Sweet tea was served at every table I ever graced as far back as I can remember.
Now I give you the million-dollar question. Do I eat like that now?
Most of the time, no. But in July and August? Yes. I kind of do. My mother-in-law still grows quite a garden every summer and when it starts coming in, she is good to share. Plus, the aforementioned market is just down the road from my house. My lovely wife, Lisa, has overcome the fact that her grandmother was from Wisconsin, and she can put a Southern spin on any dish she prepares.
And this week is camp meeting week at Salem, so all hands are on deck - or around the family dinner table, as it were - so we are turning back the hands of time, culinarily speaking, for the next seven days.
Summertime. Where living is easy. And the eating is just plain scrumptious.
This article originally appeared on Athens Banner-Herald: Huckaby: There's no food like Southern food
