fried chicken and green beens

Really, there is nothing better than fresh fried chicken, green beans and mashed potatoes. I was invited to a pot luck game night Saturday night and decided to go back to my roots and spend the afternoon making a southern supper, minus the potatoes. Gays and carbs.

I hadn't made friend chicken in maybe a decade, but I think I did all right. I was skimpy on the salt and it was noticeable in the taste. However, my secret-ish blend of herbs and spices made it very nice.




The green beans, however, I frakking rocked. I can't wait to make those again.


It really made me miss Mattie. And writing about it I share the southern authors lament that there is not a good word for "the black women who raised us." Mammy neither right nor accurate. But Mattie came on Mondays and Fridays and did the cooking, and other light chores in the years before her knees gave out. She spent my childhood taking care of us, and we spent her adulthood taking care of her. Big bundle of love was Mattie. And Lawd she could cook. I can't make her chicken, or squash, or banana pudding, or meatloaf—omigod her corn—, but I do try. Some times my versions a bit more gourmet, and my turkey soup has become the stuff of legend. But whenever I attempt something loving in the kitchen, I think of Mattie, and give my thanks for her with the love I pour into every portion.