Ode to Boiled Okra

Well, it wasn't really my great-grandma, but you coulda fooled me.

Hubby and I lunched at a little downtown hole-in-the wall place today. It was the restaurant space for what used to be the nicest motel in town. It is run down now and you really don't want to be in the parking lot after dark. They have a blue-plate special weekdays at noon. The folks who work downtown talk about eating there all the time, but Hubby and I had never tried it.

I knew it was going to be home-cookin', so I expected good food. I got the meatloaf to begin with (a small portion), but should have held out for the veggie plate. They had purple hull peas, turnip greens, lima beans, and BOILED OKRA! Never, ever have I seen boiled okra on a buffet line or on a menu. WOO HOO! Gimme a double, heapin' helpin' of THAT! Whole slimy pods of beautiful boiled okra and okra only. No stewed tomatos adulterating the taste. Oh, and hot water cornbread too!

I was in seventh heaven. My eyes glazed over as I shoveled in my veggie delights like a starving man in lock-up. Hubby commented I didn't have a lot to say during the meal. I dared not even take a breath for fear this sumptuous meal may disappear like a dream. I told him my great-grandmother had cooked me lunch and I was too busy to talk.

I am once again a small child sitting at my great-grandmother's table. The table is covered in a red checkered plastic tablecloth. Homemade peppersauce lives on the corner of the table by the window. Veggies picked fresh from the garden have been simmering all morning, making my mouth water with each passing moment. Grandma and I sit down for our lunch. She, the staid 85-year-old, scary looking with just one eye, chews silently with her front teeth...all that she has left. I, the quiet little 8-year-old, eat country cookin' that I can't get anywhere else. The fact that I helped pick it this morning makes it all the more tasty. We eat in silence because when you have good food in front of you, eating is what you should be doing. We can talk later.

But I digress. The point is that I found somebody in this town who knows how to cook like God intended...with a generous helping of bacon grease added to everything.

WOO HOO! BOILED OKRA! Turnip greens and purple hull peas in bacon grease! I may die of a coronary, but by golly I will die happy.

We will be eating here as often as possible.