Whaddaya Mean, I Tawk Funny? AKA Lost in Translation

When we first moved to Virginia, it was to an area that was previously a very rural farm town.  People had a definite accent, and my accent was nowhere near the local norm.  I started listening more carefully to the way things were pronounced, and began slowly softening up my NY accent to make it more palatable to the locals.  When in Rome, right?  What I wasn’t taking into account is there’s some things, no matter how well you pronounce them, that just aren’t the same here as they were in NY…like, oh, say…Tea.  If I order a tea up north, I’ll get it hot with a side of lemon or sugar and cream.  Order it here and I get Sweet Tea.  If I get BBQ anything up north, it’s covered in thick BBQ sauce slathered ON the meat.  Here?  BBQ is not so much a sauce, as a religion and ordering BBQ more often means you’ll get pulled pork that’s been slowly smoked over wood chips, and then served up with a vinegar or mustard based sauce, depending on the region.  Sometimes, you even get a choice.  Order a “Cawfee” up north, I get a coffee, here, I get a coffee and a mighty strange look.  (I’ve since learned how to pronounce the word, thanks)

The phrase “Y’all” is used, along with “All y’all”, and if you hear a woman say “Oh Hell No!” you’d better look out because she is ticked off about something, and someone’s gonna get a piece of her mind, bless their hearts….in areas of New York where I’ve lived that would have qualified for an almost polite "no, thank you."

Then, I learned that there were completely new phrases and words for things that I had been completely ignorant of.   I won't lie, more than a few of these have made their way into my own everyday speech now, and I'm trying to teach my mother the value of just saying, "Bless your heart" for the annoying people in life.  But that's a blog post in and of itself, so back to the delightful Southern phrases I've been blessed to learn.  Speaking of blessed...

"Bless your heart/Bless his heart" - there's a dual meaning for this, I've discovered.  I've had people say it in a completely sympathetic manner "Poor thing!  Bless your heart." and I've heard people say it in a more sarcastic, sometimes even catty manner, "Well, maybe she just isn't cut out to be a waitress, bless her heart."  Very often for a particularly annoying person or as a response to said annoying person, they'll just say, "Bless." 

“Cattywampus” meant crooked and was not a plant that grew down by the lake.  

“Fixin” didn’t mean repairing, but to be on the verge of something, as in, “We were fixing to leave, but that truck here parked all cattywampus and now we’re blocked in”.  

“Gimme some sugar” was not a request for sweetener of any kind.  

“Hoecake” is not a pseudo-affectionate nickname for a woman with questionable morals, but rather a small cake made from cornmeal.

“Hoppin John” is not a man, nor a dance, it’s a traditional (delicious!) Southern dish most often served on New Year’s.

“Hankering” has nothing to do with blowing your nose.  It’s a strong or persistent desire.  Which would explain why, when someone commented, “I’ve got a hankering” and my reply was, “Oh, do I need a tissue?” they looked at me like I was crazy. 

"I ain't one to talk" is almost always followed by "but" and that person is one to talk, and tell you everything you never wanted to know about people you probably don't know anyway.  

“Like to” (in some instances) does not mean you actually would like to, but rather you almost did something, as in, “I like to die when that truck almost run us off the road”.

“That dog won’t hunt” doesn’t refer to a dog or hunting, but an argument or line of thinking that won’t work.  

“The Civil War” – don’t say it.  Just…don’t.  ‘Round here it’s the War between the States, the War for Southern Independence, or the War of Yankee Aggression.  I have, happily, never made this snafu myself thanks my husband’s very careful warning, but if you ever want to hear a room go so quiet you can hear a pin drop, go on ahead.  But y’all will probably be labeled as “Yankees” if you do!  

Till next time....

Food, Glorious Food...I'm anxious to try - what is that SMELL???

My Mom will be the first to tell you that as a child, I was a notoriously picky eater.  Anything new was immediately disliked before even being tasted, and I seem to recall my Gram and Mom both having to come up with terribly creative stories in order to get me to try something, IE egg drop soup: "These are dinosaur eggs - I had to climb into the Pterodactyl nest and steal them while it was out hunting for prey."  (One of my favorite shows was "Land of the Lost" as a kid...the sleestaks alternately fascinated and terrified me, and dinosaurs were always cool in my book.)  Fast forward 10 years and I'd become a far more adventurous eater.  By the time I'd met Bear, I had broadened my culinary horizons quite considerably - Indian food was a favorite, sushi was a delight, calamari, well OK, I always ate calamari (because Gram said they were "rubber bands") but you get the idea.  I'd branched out, grown up, new food wasn't this horribly daunting thing to me anymore...till I came face to face with Collard Greens.  No sir.  Not gonna happen.  Nope.    

For those of us who live in the South, we're well aware of the gravity of the above statement.  Greens are a staple here, and each family has their own special recipe for how they're cleaned, prepared and cooked it seems.  My husband has his own recipe, and so it happened that he decided to fix me a batch while I was recuperating from being ill.  I awoke from my nap to this strange smell...I couldn't quite put my finger on it, save for the fact that it was unlike anything I'd ever smelled before, and didn't care to be smelling at present.  Giant green leaves adorned my kitchen sink, and on the counter top, an opened package of something I'd never heard of: fatback.  I think the conversation went something like this:
Me: What is that? (pointing to the fatback)
Bear: Fatback.
Me: Yes, but what IS it?
Bear: Exactly what it says it is.
Me: I don't know what fatback is.
Bear: It's salted pork fat that you use to season beans & greens.  
Me: Eeeeew.  Gross!  
I think I may have (oh so maturely) even covered my mouth with both my hands at that point.  You have to understand, I was raised in an Italian family, we didn't use pork fat to cook anything in.  Sausages in the sauce, sure, but plain salted pork fat?  What flavor could that possibly impart?  Grease?  It wasn't even refrigerated!  Surely this would be rancid.  

After our entire apartment thoroughly reeked of cooked Collard Greens, Bear judged them done and delicious.  He gave me a small helping from the serving bowl, and I bravely tasted them.  Oh!  What is this wondrous flavor?  What is this delightfully yummy, perfectly seasoned stuff?  This can't be the same stuff that stinks to high heaven, this is Uh-maz-ing!  I vaguely recall grabbing the serving bowl and eating as much of this green goodness as I possibly could while Bear looked on smugly.  

And so, my introduction to Southern cuisine began.  

Collard Greens are a great source of vitamins A and K, and fiber.  Like I said before, every family has this own way of preparing them, but this is how we do ours, here.  I've tweaked Bear's recipe a bit, but he's given it his stamp of approval, so here it goes:

The Dixie Fried Bride's Collard Greens
1 large bunch collard greens
1 large onion
2 cloves garlic, minced
2 strips salted fat back, cut into 2" pieces
6 strips bacon, cut into 1" pieces
1/4 Tsp Cayenne Pepper (add more if you want a kick to your greens)
1 Tbsp Red Pepper Flakes
1 Tsp White Pepper
1 Tsp Black Pepper
1 Tbsp Balsamic Vinegar, optional
Olive Oil - just enough to coat the sides & bottom of the pot, I use my Misto for this
Enough water to just cover the greens

Separate all the leaves, and wash thoroughly until absolutely no grit is left on the leaves.  Let leaves dry a little while you dice the onion and mince the garlic. Coat the sides and bottom of a large, tall sided pot, put in your fat back and cook over medium high heat.  The fat back should become slightly translucent as you cook it, add in your bacon pieces next, and allow to become halfway cooked before adding in your onion.  Add your garlic about a minute after you add in the onion to avoid it from becoming burnt and imparting a bitter taste.  Saute onion and garlic, and add a scant 1 cup of water to the pot, and your peppers, reducing heat to medium low.  This gives your greens a flavorful base to go into once your done with the next step. 

Using kitchen shears, or a very sharp knife, cut out the thickest part of the fibrous stems, and put them aside.  Cut your leaves into about 1 - 2 inch bits.  Next, take the reserved stems and chop those into 1/2 inch bits.  You don't have to use all the stems, and at this point you may already be annoyed at the amount of chopping you've had to do.  You can forgo the stems altogether, but we like them.  

Once your leaves and stems are chopped, add them into the pot.  Add another cup of water, just enough to barely cover your greens, and simmer on medium heat for at least 45 minutes, or until tender.  In the last 5-10 minutes of cooking, I like to add a tablespoon of balsamic vinegar - it just seems to give an extra layer to the flavors of the dish that really compliment it. 

If you're feeling truly wicked, fry up a little extra bacon and crumble it over the greens once you've placed them in the serving bowl.  

Our Thanksgiving table is never without Greens, and here in the South they're also traditional for New Year's - the green symbolizing money for the coming year.  

Enjoy! 

Be Gentle, This Is My First Time

I've been saying for a while now that I ought to start a blog on my experiences as a Yankee (worse yet, a "Damn Yankee") who didn't just move to the Deep South, but began a whole new way of life in the process.  I'm a native New Yorker, my family came from Brooklyn and settled in Long Island, and spent my childhood just a 30 minute train ride from NYC.  Moving to a small, sleepy Southern town was not on my list of things to do, yet here we are. 

Bear, my husband, has often joked that my culture shock was doled out to me in doses.  From New York to a small farm in New Jersey, from there to various parts of Virginia, and finally home to South Carolina.  It's been an adventure, some of it wonderful, some of it...well, not so much. 

For starters, there was the language barrier.  Specifically, my rapid fire, heavily accented NY (think "My Cousin Vinnie) manner of speech which left more than a few store clerks furrowing their brows and simply saying, "Ma'am?" to my inquiries. Ah, fuggedaboutit.

Driving was a wake up call.  Apparently, my frequent hand gestures and horn blowing (or, overuse of the "yankee button" as Bear calls it) was not the norm further south.  

Food came next...all the specific brands I knew and grew up with were...gone.  My first Thanksgiving in Virginia we went to 3 different grocery stores with me having a mini meltdown in the frozen food section, "Oh Gawd!  How am I supposed to make Me-maw's squash souffle if there's no caaawfee rich?  Where did we moooove tooooooo????"  

It wasn't all bad - in fact, it was wonderful for me.  (Possibly not so much for the store clerks who couldn't understand my weird accent or the people on the other end of my car horn)  It helped me learn to slow down, try something different, quietly mutter under my breath when the car in front of me comes to a full stop before making a right turn.  In fact, it's opened me up to such a completely different lifestyle that I felt the need to share it all (warts and all) with you!  

So join me on my journey as I share my forays into prepping, canning, shooting, and my life in general.  I won't claim to be an expert on anything - I'll share the tips & tricks I learn along the way, the good, bad and the truly ugly, and hope you'll either find them helpful or humorous. 

Grab yourself a Co'Cola and set a while.  I'm just getting started.