Kitchen Queen of Fish Pot Road

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The winner of Alison Hart's book EMMA'S RIVER is (drum roll, puh-lease) : NIKKI SNYDER. I'll be contacting you soon for your address. Enjoy the book!

Thanks to all who entered.

Alison Hart on Food in Fiction and Book Giveaway

As promised, the first installment of Foodie Fridays. The first post is by children's book author Alison Hart. Please leave a response about Alison, her books, or anything on this blog and you will be entered to win a signed copy of "Emma's River."

Food in Fiction

Food scenes in fiction are a terrific way to highlight time and place. Emma’s River (Peachtree Publishers), my historical suspense for young readers, is set on a steamboat in 1852. At that time, steamboats were a means of travel, but they were also described as elegant “floating hotels.” (They also had a nasty habit of exploding, sinking, and catching on fire, all fodder for a great plot!) Cabin passengers were waited on by stewards, maids and cabin boys. And meals were sumptuous. To ensure a lively and descriptive steamboat setting, I read history texts, diaries and journals. Always I was struck by the dining descriptions on the cabin deck:

 

            The table was covered with dainties such as jellies and creams, ices, French sauces and sweets, tarts, pies and almonds. Dinner included pigeon fricassee, baked duck and turkey, and squirrel. When the supper bell rang, it was one grand race. (Steamboats on the Western River by Louis C. Hunter)

 

            In contrast, the deck passengers (immigrants and laborers) brought their own food. Since there was no refrigeration and one stove to serve hundreds, choices were limited and might include bologna, sausages, dried herring, crackers, bread, cheese and whiskey. If the steamboat was stranded or delayed, deck passengers often went hungry or starved.

            My research spotlighted many fascinating food details; however, good suspense writing means a scene can not just be about food, it must move the story forward as well.

 

            “Emma, look lively.” Doctor Burton thrust a tureen at her. Impatiently, setting it down, he grabbed a platter and spooned a mound of spiced pigshead onto his plate.  Emma stared at the contents of the bowl beside her. Fish heads and tails floated in a murky sea of broth.

            “You, waiter! More bread!” Doctor Burton called. Cries for more soup, more pastries, more meat rose in the air. The room echoed with the clattering of forks and clinking of spoons, and the diners chomped and slurped as if their manners had been left ashore.

            When Doctor Burton’s attention was on a tray of cakes, Emma slipped from the table.

 

            This scene was fun to write, but mainly I used it as a plot device. Emma’s guardian’s preoccupation with his meal gives her a chance to sneak below to the forbidden main deck “where proper young ladies do not go” to see her beloved pony.

            Food is used in many other ways in Emma’s River. Emma uses sardines and crackers to bribe Patrick, a hungry stowaway, who in return demands, “Porkpie topped off with a mash” if he is to care for Licorice Twist, her pony. Food also helps to describe the differences between life on the cabin deck and the main deck:

 

            Emma passed a family huddled in a cave they’d made of some crates. The father was breaking a hunk of cheese into pieces. Four grubby children stuffed the bits into their mouths. As they chewed, they stared at Emma with hollow eyes. She had just finished a meal of roast turkey, rabbit stew and apple pie. She ducked away, her insides twisting at the thought of the family’s hunger.           

 

            All my novels use food to set time and place, move the plot and enhance characters. Next time you read a novel, whether it’s a contemporary mystery or historical suspense, think how food is used to create an exciting story, not just to whet your appetite! 

Introducing Alison Hart and Foodie Fridays

When one of my daughters finds a good book, they spread the word among their friends and teachers. And as a way of introducing next week’s guest post, I thought I’d share my 11-year-old’s love of this book “Emma’s River,” by Alison Hart.  My daughter, whose name is also Emma, recently  shared this book with her English teacher and class as one of her favorite books. When I asked her why she liked it so much, she was succinct.  “I like the adventure, the descriptive language, and the history.” (A future book reviewer?)  For more information about the book, click on the cover and it will take you to Alison’s website.  There, you will also see what a prolific writer she is and can check out some of her other books.

Next week, Alison will share a post on food in fiction and I will be hosting a giveaway of her newest book, “Whirlwind.” So stay tuned. This is the start of a new feature on this blog, Foodie Fridays, where food remains a focus but is looked at through fiction, movies, music, and soon—because food is not just about recipes, right?

Green Tomato Sandwich Spread—Yum

I finally made the green tomato sandwich spread and here are my observations:

1. A bigger food processor would be so much better. Truly, the most arduous part of making this was the grinding, emptying, grinding, and so on.

2. Though the instructions say after grinding, place the vegetables in a pot and cover them with a water. I decided not to because the vegetables were already a bit watery. 

3. Even though I didn't add water, I still should have drained the watery stuff from the vegetables because my sandwich spread is a little runny. It's not so bad that i can't enjoy it. But it could be better. 

4. It tasted good—sweet, creamy, with a hint of sour and an even smaller hint of bite. But it's not quite right, yet.

5. This make recipe make a HUGE amount of spread. I halved it and I still ran out of jars. 

6. I am not a photographer or a stylist—but here is what the sandwich spread looks like:

 

The Mysterious Green-Tomato Sandwich Spread

A few weeks ago I was at the Staunton Farmer’s Market and saw green tomato relish 
offered by one of the vendors. I was instantly taken back to my childhood sandwich spread, which Mom would make and can this time of year. Every year.

“Does that have mayo in it?” I asked the vendor.

“No. You’re thinking about sandwich spread, not relish,” he answered. (Photo by Susy Morris at http://chiotsrun.com.)

Something clicked in the murky recesses of my mind. I remember the sweet, creamy green mixture spread on bread, crackers, and sometimes just spooned out of the jar  for a hefty, creamy bite. I also remembered getting the recipe from my mom and thinking: “Okay. I’m not ever going to make that.”  I was in my 20s and it looked too complicated—when would I ever have the time?  From my point of view now, I’d say it does have a lot of steps. But it’s not really complicated—and it’s really worth the effort.

So I dug around in all my notebooks and piles of papers for the recipe and I couldn’t find it.  I had to take a deep breath and call my Mom—who in her Kitchen Queenliness—reported to me years ago that my father’s family put her through a kind of hell to get this much-lauded recipe. “It was an old Cox family recipe,” she said. ‘And they never really liked me. “

Which is odd—because the farmer’s market guy said: “We all make the sandwich spread, too.” So, while the recipe may be a little different from family to family, I'm betting it’s basically the same.

But, after all these years, Mom couldn’t find the recipe. This vexed her to no end. “I guess you’ll have to call your father.” She sighed into the phone.

Call him I did. I asked him about the grief his family put my mother through to get this recipe.

“I have no idea what she’s talking about, “ he clipped.

Okay. Just give me the recipe, people.

 Here it is—and full disclosure—I’ve not made it yet. But I plan to over the next few weeks. It’s a great way to use those green tomatoes from the garden—other than frying them (though that is a treat, too).  You can also make a green tomato mincemeat pie. (Check out a recipe from my book Mrs. Rowe’s Little Book of Southern Pie here.)

 

 Makes 8 pints

12 green tomatoes

12 green peppers

12 red peppers

4 onions

2 hot peppers (Dad prefers banana pepper)

 

Grind all of those ingredients together. Cover with water and boil. Let it stand for 2 minutes and drain.

 

Add

1 cup apple cider vinegar

2 cups mustard

4 tablespoons salt

3 cups of sugar

1 1/2 cup, water

1 ½ cup flour

Cook together and boil for 10 minutes.

 

Take off the fire and add one quart of mayonnaise. Stir well.

 

Can and seal hot.

Popsicle Memories

I had not eaten a popsicle in years when a teacher at Emma’s preschool handed me one. This, of course, was several years ago. Emma is now 11.  I was delighted by the childhood memories that suddenly rushed through me. One of the wonderful things about having children is that it brings memories of your own childhood back into your life. Watching Emma eat her red popsicle and enjoying one myself brought on so many images of summer that I couldn’t resist writing about them.

For me, it was banana popsicles. Oh, how I loved them. And ice cream—any flavor. Especially after a softball game, sore muscles, and companionship of teammates made it even more special. I remember the smell of my catcher’s mitt and the smile of my friend Michelle. The chants of “Comebatta, come batta, swing!”  The dusty bases.  Sweaty practices. Long walks to the fire hall where practice was held—along with the big summer event—the Raccoon Township Volunteer Firemen’s Fair.

My favorite part of the fair was seeing my friends from school that I had not seen for most of the summer. I can still hear the whir of the ferris wheel and the roar of the tractor pull. And I can still smell heated engines and burning oil at one end of the field and the greasy French fries, cotton candy, and home made pies at the other end. I can still see Mom handing out our tickets and sitting in the bingo tent all night long. Every night. Catching up on gossip. Winning a little money or a door prize. Going home late and falling into bed.  Sleeping in until 10. Going for long walks and bike rides along our steamy gravel road. Hiking up and down the grassy hills. Exploring the shaded, deep forests. Discovering moss, mushrooms, and snakes. (There was always one good snake story each summer.)  I remember: Running in open fields. Lying in the sun and listening to the radio. Going to the pool in Aliquippa. The sound of splashes and giggles. Lifeguards’ whistles and yelps. Going to the river to watch the fireworks on the Fourth of July. The smell of my mother’s lilac bush and the way it grew wild to scratch against the window.

I remember long Sunday mornings with Grandma in a hot, little red brick country church that sat on a reservoir. My sweaty legs on the pews. Chewing sticky candy to help pass the time.  Long-winded Presbyterian preachers. The longing for it to end so that I could go outside and gaze at the water and run barefoot on the lawn. The same lawn on which I would I would marry my husband. The same man who is the father of my children. One of whom's teacher handed me a popsicle and sent me journeying into the past.

Summertime. I hate to see it go.  

Summers in the South with Lemon Verbena

Although my mom’s home base was Western Pennsylvania, she spent much of her time as a child and teenager in Sarasota, Florida, where a branch of the Carpenter family lived. Sometimes I think we were some strange brew of transplanted Southern and hard-scrabble Western Pennsylvania.

I am often pleasantly surprised by the similarities of my childhood  culture and the Southern one I live in now. We ate cobbler every summer, drank sweet iced tea by the gallon, and looked forward to the fair, where tractor pulls and pie contests filled us with anticipation.

One thing we didn’t have (not that I remember) was the rich diversity of summer smells I’ve come to know and love since living in Virginia—magnolia, honeysuckle, mimosa, wisteria, and my favorite, lemon verbana.

For many, lemon verbena is the quintessential Southern herb. Perhaps it’s because at least two of the great icons of Southern culture give it a mention—Margaret Mitchell and William Faulkner. In Gone with the Wind, the herb is a favorite scent of Scarlet O’Hara’s mother. And one of the characters in Faulkner’s The Unvanquished wears a sprig of it behind her ear. (Photo by Renee/Playingwithbrushes.)

Even though I know better, because my own great-grandmother told me of wearing lemon verbana tucked in her cleavage in Western Pennsylvania, I still think of it as Southern. 

Ever since I’ve been growing herbs, I’ve always included lemon verbena in my garden. The scent of the plant never seems to die. I stuffed its dried leaves in muslin bags in closets and in drawers. Years—and I mean years—later the scent was still there. It’s no surprise that throughout history it was mostly known and used for its fragrance. The Victorians loved it for cleaning purposes, as well, and would sometimes place sprigs of lemon verbena in finger bowls at each plate at dinner parties.

Another popular use for lemon verbena is in tea. It works either as a tea that consists of all lemon verbena for a cup of hot tea or  in glass of iced tea—much the same way you would use mint. This is probably my favorite way to use the spindly-leafed herb. For me, ultimately, what is summer without sitting on the porch in the fading afternoon with a tall glass of iced tea, the chatter of crickets and frogs, and the gentle scent of lemon verbana in the air? 

Three products I love this summer

I’m taking a little break from the regular narrative on this blog to tell you about three products I’ve fallen for this summer.

1. Metromint, which is a bottled water with exactly the right mint-kick for hot days when you are killing time in hot Staunton, Va. waiting for your daughter to get out of acting class.
2. Stonyfield’s Oikos Organic Greek Yogurt.  Filling. Tasty. Better for you than the other stuff. My favorite is the pomegranate.
3. Naturally More Peanut Butter. As a vegetarian peanut butter is important for my diet. I’ve tried every kind there is—and this is the best I have ever eaten.

 

I’m not providing you with links for two reasons. You can do a quick search for these products, if you are so inclined. And I am unofficially endorsing these product. I’m not being paid to do it and nobody has offered me any products—though if anybody wants to…here I am.