I haven't written much about this recently. It can come off as complain-y. Instead, I write emails to my best friend who's dealing with the same affliction. Nevertheless homesickness has come on strong in the past few weeks. I blame the sale of my parents' house, my "home" in Wisconsin, in Wisconsin, my house, which I miss so very much and didn't realize how attached I had become until I left. This is where the complain-y part comes in, you see, my parents are moving here, right down the road. We'll see them once a week, at least, again. They will babysit when Caleb gets sick unexpectedly, or we need a night out. My mom will call me from the grocery store, a call that evolves from "these cherries are on sale, and look really good, do you want me to pick you a bag?" and ends with "we're having roast for dinner, do you guys just want to come over?" and I'll say "yes!" I'm so very, very glad they will be here.
But all of a sudden I have no home in Wisconsin. Wisconsin! A place I did not think I was attached to, because I hate the Packers and I love Southern cooking. Right? And yet, I'm terribly, terribly homesick and the week before last was the worst, holding back tears at the office, feeling all the feelings about losing the home when I got dressed for 2 proms, packed for college, came home from my first date with my husband (and lots of other first dates!), got ready for my wedding and my son took his first steps. Feelings, so very many feelings.
My friends who visited (from Wisconsin!) asked me "What's your favorite part about living in Tennessee?" and in my homesick mind my first thought was "Well, we have jobs. And that's about it." It was snarky and I didn't say it out loud. There are plenty of things I like about Tennessee: springtime, the longer growing season, live music everywhere, lots of bbq. I could counter with all the things that I'd prefer in Wisconsin: the summer, sweet corn & tart cherries, fish fries, snow at Christmas, my home church that I still miss, the ability to pronounce all the funny Indian names of towns that we don't have down here.
I find myself caught in the middle in the kitchen. I recently picked up The New Midwestern Table, by Amy Thielen, who lives in the Northern reaches of Wisconsin. I made Swedish Pancakes, a dish popularized at a restaurant in Door County with goats on the roof. I've now made them twice, they are exceedingly easy. They are a definite cure for some of the homesick blues.
They definitely had a Southern twang served with Bourbon Poached Peaches instead of Lingonberries. My sister has strict instructions to bring some with her from IKEA.
Also, this cookbook is amazing, it's on my Christmas list. I will be checking it out from the library repeatedly until then. Every recipe I've tried is outstanding, they have obviously been thoroughly tested and well written.
But then, yesterday, I stopped at the farm stand in town. It sets up on T/Th/Sat and has a small variety of fruits and vegetables. It's not everything I might find at a farmer's market, but what it lacks in variety, it makes up for in convenience. I can pull right up to the tent, leaving the car running with Caleb and grab a handful of things for dinner. Everything is $2 a pound, grown in a small town just west of us, maybe 20 minutes away or so. The Southern part of my heart thrilled to see a basket of okra. I was introduced to okra, fried, in college in Texas. Brian loves it and I hoped Caleb might see it as a version of a french fry (he didn't, but he did at least try it twice). I took it, and some exceedingly nice plums and passed on the peaches, but might go back later this week because peaches are only here for so long! I fried it up, sans recipe, because I can fry okra with my eyes closed. And that makes me feel a little bit more at home here.
Simple Fried Okra
I like okra cut longwise, into long strips as you see above. They've easier to pick up and less work than the small rounds you often see.
1 handful okra, or however much you want to feed your family. I do not enjoy reheated fried okra, so I try to fry just enough for the one meal.
Wet: 1 egg + a nice splash of meat + cajun seasoning. Whisk together. I would add something spicy if I weren't trying to get Caleb to try it. You could also use salt and pepper instead of the cajun season if you prefer, but go easy with the salt. You can always salt them later, hot out of the oil.
Dry: Equal parts self-rising flour and cornmeal. I like the yellow cornmeal. You could use All-Purpose flour, I liked the way the self-rising flour made the breading extra puffy.
Bring a heavy pot with about an inch of oil up to frying temperature. I used Peanut oil, Canola or Vegetable is also fine. I didn't tend to use a themometer here. I just turn the heat on high and keep an eye on it- you want it to shimmer, not smoke. Flick in a little of the flour mixture to test it. When it start sizzling, turn down the heat a touch and toss in your okra - not all at once. If it sizzles too fast, turn down your heat a lot.
Toss the okra in the wet, then the dry, then into the oil it goes! Keep an eye on it. If it browns too quick, turn down your heat. Pull it out with a slotted spot when it's golden brown and put it in a paper towel lined bowl or basket or pin tin. I like to sprinkle a little seasoning salt on top, but taste before you do! Over-salted okra is no good.
Brian and I cannot keeps our hands out of this before we get to the dinner table. It's just too good!
