Note To Self

Simple syrups; I’ve been trying out a few recipes. For Independence Day, I mixed up Mayhaw Sodas, using a simple syrup made with-you guessed it!- mayhaws. The taste is bright, sweet and tangy, like my favorite jelly.

I had a bag of lemons in the refrigerator and I needed to do something with them, before they ruined. I thought about a honey lemon simple syrup. The bag of lemons were halved and juiced. I reached and got one of my many measuring cups and poured the fresh lemon juice into it. Spooning out a few errant lemon seeds, something else floated around in the bottom of the cup. Eight whispy legs and a slight bulbous body of a daddy-long leg spider! Note to self: examine measuring cups before filling. Briefly I considered fishing out the sinister bug, but knew I would think about the floatsum every time I used the syrup, so down the kitchen drain went the juice and the spider.

Switch in plans. Two simple syrups. Two homemade sodas.

Honey Lemon Simple Syrup

Here’s what to do: In a medium sauce pan, combine 1 cup honey, 1 cup water and 1 cut lemon peel. Stir to combine and bring to a light simmer. Pluck out the lemon peel, with a pair of tongs and continue to simmer syrup for another 30 minutes. Let cool and pour into a jar, lid it up and keep it in the frig. Use it up in 2 weeks. You won’t have a problem doing this.

Next.

Mayhaw Simple Syrup 

Ready? Well, follow the above directions using 1 cup water, 1 cup white sugar and 1 cup frozen mayhaw berries. If you don’t have mayhaws, use blueberries, cherries, blackberries. You get the idea. Again, when the syrup is combined and begins to reduce, remove the berries and simmer following the above.

Now, get out a set of pretty of glasses and mix up a refreshing summer soda. Into a 4 ounce glass pour 3 tablespoons of your simple syrup. Add 4 big ice cubes. Top off with club soda.  Give a vigorous stir with a long handled ice tea spoon.

So pleasantly different from store bought soda and pop. Inexpensive to make, you know exactly what is in it. Homemade all the way, baby!

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The Honey Lemon Simple Syrup is a deep amber and the Mayhaw Simple Syrup is a beautiful berry- go figure…

Simple Blessings from the Exile’s Kitchen.

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Tongue In Cheek or We Shook the Family Tree and Another Yankee Fell Out

Tongue in cheek
Indulge me please.
My eldest is doing genealogy for both sides of his family.
Papaw (My father’s father) always said to not go digging around in the past; you never know what you might find. Horse thieves from Missiouri, perhaps… If only that were the case. Thieving horse stealers would be so preferable to what he has found out about my great-great-grandfather. The dirty Yankee! It pains me greatly to admit it. Damn Yankee! Multiple wives. A preacher to boot! Oh, oh, oh!! I am beside myself with this information. Now we know why he was never mentioned- no family story about him to pass down.
Horse thief/Yankee. Not equal in my estimation. Yankee is far worse.
What would my Daddy have thought? I wonder.
Thank God for my Southern Grandmothers. A praying group of women they have always been.
God bless the Southern Belles that the Yankee men fell for…. at least for a time, because they didn’t stay around long till they skedaddled back to their Yankee mothers.
And here I was calling my ex’s people traitors and opportunistic raccoons for siding with the North up in Tishomingo County during the Northern Aggression. Guarding Grant himself. I think. Maybe Sherman..? That’s still worse because they were Southern born and bred.
Oh, my identity, proudly Southern, has been smeared with Yankee blue on both my mother’s and now my father’s side. Oh, oh, oh.
So, all of this begs a question: what the heck am I? Born in Baton Rouge, Louisiana. Live in Podunk Mississippi. Does your geographical position make you Southern? I do hope so.
I don’t like cold weather. Snow is a big No for me. My blood is too thin to live above the Mason Dixon Line.
I cringe when I hear children answer adults with a plain yes or nah. That should be “Yes, ma’am” or “No, ma’am”, thank you very much.
While in Washington, D.C. a few summers back, I toured some of the Smithsonian. Going through a metal detector, the young girls ahead of me ignored the security guard’s greeting to have a nice time touring the museum. He wanded my purse and also told me the same that he had told the girls. But I responded the way my very Southern Grandmother would have wanted, “Thank you, sir,” I answered. He stopped me. “Ma’am, ma’am. Where are you from?” he asked. “Mississippi,” I replied. “Ah, Mississippi,” the security guard said wistfully with a smile. He gently shook his finger at me and said again, “Well, you have nice time visiting D.C., ma’am.” He heard my Southern accent. He recognized my Southern manners.
In an antique shop in a suburb of Bethesda, Maryland, my accent opened the shop owner’s want for conversation and to find a thin thread of commonality between us. “Oh, you’re from the South, ” she said when she heard me say that I was just browsing. “Quite South,” I answered. “Quite South?” the shop owner repeated. “Yes, I am from Mississippi, by way of Baton Rouge.” “Oh, Baton Rouge! Are you Catholic, by any chance?” “Uh, no”, I replied. “I ask,” she said, “because I went to Catholic school and all the nuns were from Baton Rouge.” That thin thread connecting.
And I enjoy my cornbread and peas every New Year’s Day. I had a Northerner tell me one time that catfish was a bottom feeding trash fish. Might be, but next to hushpuppies and coleslaw I call that a mighty fine meal. Grits! Try ordering that in northern environs. If one could find it on a menu, you’d have to gain access to the kitchen to teach them how to prepare them. The joys of a ripe tomato between two pieces of lightly toasted bread with a slathering of mayonnaise. Did that last word have you confused? If it did you are probably a Yankee. ‘Cause y’all shortened that word to just mayo and now everybody calls it that. Being from Louisiana, and growing up in the Southern part of the state, the Cajun influence was deep. Mayonnaise was pronounced ‘my-nez’. It’s not your “nez”, it’s my “nez”. I know, I know. Wasn’t until I moved to Mississippi that I learned to pronounce it correctly. Mayo-naise. Ah, well.
No white shoes or clothing after Labor Day and never before Easter. And you don’t leave the house with wet hair or not brushed either. You go out the door as an example of your upbringing. You represent your family at all times.
All of the above makes me Southern, right? Can we not just rebury that Yankee? It was a difficult time. The War Between the States. He was young. She was younger. It was a border state. Emotions were high and off kilter. Poor little Susan. She didn’t know John would turn that Yankee coat and head back home right after the war was over.
I’m going to say I’m Southern. Claim it for my own.
P.S.
(I love you my Yankee friends. You’re down here. You must know a good thing when you see it.)
Thank you for reading.

Genealogy Blessings from the very Southern Exile’s Kitchen.

(this was first posted on my fb acct last year and has been edited)

Coffee Mug

20190710_063329Three places I love and in no particular order (that depends on the time of year and my current project needs): kitchenware stores, hardware stores and garden centers. Oh, just for continuity, let’s call them gardenware stores.

Way back in 1984/1985, I worked at Cortana Mall in Baton Rouge. There was a kitchenwares store privately owned and outfitted with gadgets, table linens, serving pieces, chafing dishes, fondue pots, glassware, coffee makers. Across the back wall were bags of flavored coffee beans and a commercial grinder. Yes, you could request a special blend and they’d make a batch for you. I often spent my half-hour lunch break in that little store, just to smell the coffee.

At Christmastime in 1984, I went into that kitchenware haven and bought my mother a set of coffee mugs. Elephants tumbling together in a happy jumble artworked their sides. Up until about six months ago they had stayed in the back of the coffee mug cabinet. My mother liked the coffee mugs, but considered them too nice to use everyday. Nice things should be used everyday, especially cheerful coffee mugs when you need a pick-me-up to start your day.

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This morning’s coffee offering was Community French Vanilla and 2 Land-O-Lakes Mini Moos. Well, good morning!

A mug of Blessings from the Exile’s Kitchen.

#CommunityCoffee

#LAND-O-LAKES

#BatonRouge

#Coffeemugs