Santa Rosa Sunshine

I’m desperately trying to re-adapt to the real world after a week on Santa Rosa Island (Pensacola, Florida). It isn’t easy, let me tell you.

My family has spent a week at the same condo (Soundside) for the last 13 years. It’s now like a 2nd home to us. We see many of the same people every year and seeing each other only once a year gives us plenty to talk about.

We look forward to this week “on the island” all year long. We'll usually walk across the street to the Gulf one or two days, we visit the local restaurants (Peg Leg Pete’s is our absolute favorite and Flounders is good, too), and, of course, we do some souvenir shopping. However, Ryan and Nicholas can enjoy the entire week without ever leaving the property. They spend hours (and hours!) fishing and crabbing off the long pier; they enjoy the swimming pool, too.

This year, the boys caught a good many crab the first night and one of our “yearly” friends, Wild Bill, cooked them along with the fish they had caught. It was a delicious impromptu dinner.

We also went shark fishing with Wild Bill and his family. Just after dark, we set-up camp on the Gulf-side. Bill and Ryan would wade into the surf, cast the line, then walk the poles back to the beach. Then it was time to sit and talk and wait for a bite. I was a little concerned about allowing my 15-year-old to walk into the water when they were desperately trying to bait shark, but I let him go anyway. This night, there was obviously no need to worry because they didn’t get a single bite. I didn’t know wether to be disappointed or relieved.

On Tuesday, Brenda cooked a delightful breakfast for all of us staying at the resort. Around 9 am we gathered in the lobby where she had a table piled high with eggs, pastries, fruit, and her famous Nassau Grits. All the food was really good, but the Nassau Grits were outstanding. So, of course, I asked her for the recipe. After we discussed cooking and cookbooks for a while, she reached behind the counter and handed me a copy of the recipe (obviously I was not the first to ask for it). She did, however, share with me the changes she made and the shortcuts she takes, so now we have the even-better recipe for Nassau Grits.


Brenda suggested that, in addition to breakfast, the grits were really good with fried fish. So, when I got home, I pulled out my favorite recipe for fried catfish and my favorite recipe for hushpuppies (both Harold Webster’s recipes as featured in our Game for All Seasons Cookbook) and we had a feast. Brenda was definitely telling the truth; Nassau Grits are a great side dish to fried fish. Try it, I’m sure you’ll love it too.


Recipes:
Nassau Grits
Deep-Fried Louisiana-Style Thin-Sliced Catfish
Pappy's Hushpuppies (I cut the recipe to 1/4 for my family)
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Sheila Simmons is Publisher at Great American Cookbooks and co-author with Kent Whitaker of the Hometown Cookbook Series

15... 37... and a Birth Day

June and July are big birthday months in my family. Maybe they are in most families; I don’t know. What's really hard for me to believe is that my oldest son Ryan has turned 15.

His 15th birthday is a big one for Ryan... A milestone. It means he can get his learner’s permit – the first step to an official driver’s license. Here, when you are at least 15 and have passed the written test, you get a permit that allows you to drive with a licensed driver in the car. In 6 months and after passing the driving test, you are eligible for an intermediate license that allows you to drive alone but only until 8pm. Ryan is already a very good driver and I’m looking forward to him driving Nicholas and himself to school each day.

Other June and July birthdays for my family include my Aunt Nedra, sister-in-law Frankie, niece Jenny, niece Brooke, Uncle Wayne, Pamela... and my birthday. I’m strange when it comes to birthdays. Roger (my hubby) is notorious for giving presents early. He gets so excited about giving it, that he just can’t wait. I hear some of you saying, “at least his gets you something; my husband always forgets.” You are right. I should be thankful.

 But... I like for the actual day to be something special. An early birthday present, to me, is a let-down when my birthday arrives. This year, however, Roger did not give me my present early. You could say that means he’s learning what I like best. Except... This year he gave it to me a week late!

We celebrated another birth day in June. My niece, Morgan Ryleigh, was born the end of May. We celebrated her birth with a Sip ‘n’ See in our home so that family and friends could meet her. I was not familiar with the idea of having the baby shower after the baby was born and calling it a “Sip ‘n’ See” until my cousin mentioned it to me. I immediately liked the idea. Baby showers are a terrific excuse for getting everyone together and a great way to help out new parents. The “Sip ‘n’ See” also allows everyone to meet the new baby and you know for sure if it’s a boy or girl which helps out with present-buying.

We had Mickey and Frankie’s (my brother and his wife) Sip ‘n’ See on a Saturday afternoon. We all gathered in my living room, passed the baby around (and around and around), visited, opened presents, and, of course, ate.

Around the time of the party, I was feverishly working to get our Tennessee Hometown Cookbook finished and off to the printer. So, it stands to reason, that the recipes I cooked came from that book. We had: Pineapple Chicken & Shrimp Bites, Hobo Sausage Kabobs, Sunday Brunch Monkey Bread, and Chocolate Eclair Cake with Graham Crust. The food was delicious, the company was good, and the baby was sweet... what more could you ask for?

--Posted by Sheila Simmons, publisher, Great American Publishers and co-author with Kent Whitaker of Tennessee Hometown Cookbook. Visit the website and enter to win a free cookbook.

What's in your refrigerator?

When I was young and newly married, I would look inside my refrigerator and think, "I do not know how my Mom has so much stuff in her fridge." I thought mine would never be full. I can remember going to the grocery store with a $100 dollar bill and fretting over everything I put in the cart. I even carried a calculator with me so that, as each item was finally chosen, I would enter the amount plus a little more for tax into the tiny calculator.

At the checkout counter, I would, again, mentally add every item as I put it on the belt. The dollar total would climb and climb as the person checking me out scanned each item. I would fret and fret thinking, "Did I forget to put that in the calculator? Did that milk scan for more than I thought it was? What if it goes over $100?" By the time my groceries were all scanned and it was time to pay, I was a nervous wreck. Still, with these $100 trips to the grocery store, my fridge was never full like my Mom’s and my Mother-in-law’s and my Grandmother’s.

The years passed (quickly, I might add), and one day as the leftovers were being put away, someone said, "There’s no room in the fridge!" It took more than 15 years of living outside my parents home, but, finally, my refrigerator is full.

It seems that anytime my sons or their friends walk past the kitchen, they open the refrigerator to have a look. They may or may not actually get anything out of it. Maybe it gives them comfort just to see what’s inside. Yes, life is good, because the fridge is full. It makes me realize that when I go to Mom’s house, I just about always have a look in her fridge. I may or may not actually get anything out of it, but, I guess, it makes me feel like I’m home to see her refrigerator full. Besides, I have to see if she has any left-over macaroni and cheese I can snatch.

It’s funny to me that we can both have refrigerators so full yet have such different things inside. My Mom has blocks of cheese, liverwurst, Blue Plate mayonnaise, whole milk, apple jelly... while we have pre-shredded cheese, ham, Kraft mayonnaise, 2% milk, grape jelly... and, of course, a lot more. I’ll bet money that Mom doesn’t have worms in her fridge, but, yes, the worms that Ryan and Nicholas use to fish are there in the bottom of my fridge safely tucked away from the food. One thing Mom and I do have in common... Our fridge just about always has a supply of left-overs inside.

The left-overs in my fridge today are from dinner last night -- Fancy Filet Mignon, Coconut Pasta and Shrimp, and sliced cucumbers -- plus the last slice of Coconut Cake from Sunday. Someone will come along and eat those, but more will soon take their place.

The fridge is full... Life is good.

For more recipes, visit the online database at Great American Publishers.

Comfort Food

When I hear the term "Comfort Food," I’ve always thought of a hot bowl of chili on a cold winter day... or grits, eggs, and biscuits for breakfast when you have to get up extra-early... or a piece of my Mom’s chocolate pie made special when I come to visit.

This past weekend, changed my perspective of "comfort food." My sister-in-law suffered a great tragedy when her husband was killed in his place of business during a robbery. He also left behind a daughter in her late teens and a son in his early twenties. Danny’s death was so sudden, that it left us all in shock. But, not surprisingly, the family quickly rallied behind Cindy, Jenny, and Jeremy to do everything we could to help.

It was the two days Roger and I spent at Cindy’s house (she lives about 100 miles away from us), that I learned what a comfort food can actually be to a family grieving. Early Saturday morning, the phone started ringing with friends and family offering their condolences and thoughts and prayers... and to say they were bringing food. Around noon, the food started coming in carried by friends and business acquaintances and even friends of friends that Cindy and her family had never met. There was roast and vegetables, butter beans from someone’s garden, a meat tray with bread for making sandwiches, sodas in a cooler on ice, a chocolate pie, sweet potato casserole, hamburgers hot off the grill, corn, coconut cake, the list goes on and on and on.

With each delivery, there would be hugs and words of comfort and the same information related again and again. What should have been monotonous and more than a little irritating, eventually became comforting. At one point in the day, someone said, "What in the world will we do with all this food?!?" The idea of turning some of it away was even passed around. It was then that my wonderful Mother-in-law made me realize that the food not only brought comfort to people who were on the receiving end. She quietly said to us all, "Please don’t ask people not to bring the food. It makes them feel better to do something for you." And she was right.

I got some great recipes from these men and women, but also some good hints for the next time I’m on the giving end: 1) bring the food in disposable dishes so there is no worry about returning dishes 2) several people brought sodas and tea which was great to go with the food 3) one person brought paper towels and even toilet paper 4) several people put a return address label on their food which was great because we were making an effort to capture that information each time for thank you notes.

Here are some recipes that are terrific for taking to a family in their time of need. Start the roast before you go to bed and let it cook all night then add the vegetables first thing in the morning; it will be ready to delivery just before lunch. The 4 Ingredient Butterscotch Cake is super easy; I keep the ingredients on hand for anytime I need a last minute dessert. Cook it in one of those disposable aluminum pans on a cookie sheet so there will be no dishes to return.

Onion Soup Pot Roast & Veges
4 Ingredient Butterscotch Cake

--Sheila

Sheila Simmons is Publisher at Great American Cookbooks • Their newest publication Game for All Seasons Cookbook has just arrived from the printer.

14 x 40 and the House is Still Standing

My son, Ryan, is fourteen years old. We have always called him a "social butterfly." From the time he was old enough to ask, he’s always had friends or cousins (or anyone that was willing) come over as much as possible. If he couldn’t get someone to come to our house and play, or even better spend the night, then he would hit them up to go to their house. You know the drill, "Hey, why don’t you call your Mom and ask her if I can come over?"

When Ryan was four and five years old, it would take me an extra hour to go to the grocery store. Where most kids would get a little shy when people stopped to say, "Oh, he’s so cute," Ryan would start a conversation. He would talk to them like a little adult for as long as they were willing to listen. I’m proud to say that at 14, when a lot kids are willing to talk to their friends, but don’t seek-out conversations with adults, Ryan will still sit and have a conversation with you. He’ll even talk to his dear-old Mom sometimes.

So, social butterfly that he is, Ryan has had a party for the last two years. It has now become "Ryan’s Annual End of the School Year Party." This year’s party was this past Saturday. I really never know what to expect as far as how many kids will come. But, so far, we’ve averaged between 40 and 45 kids both years. "Forty!" my friends say, "You must be brave."

"Actually," I brag, "I didn’t have one second of trouble and nothing was broken." It’s the truth. Out of all those kids, we had absolutely no arguments or fights. We have a bed upstairs (from the 1800s!) and someone hopped on it causing the slats to come out, but technically it wasn’t broken. The next day, Ryan’s friend Daniel told me that someone was throwing oreo cookies upstairs, but Ryan is in charge of clean up. The front door slammed at least 6 million times, but Roger and I eventually got used to that. I had to turn the music down a time or two, but I’m thinking that’s not much trouble for 40 teenagers. Heck, I’ve had that kind of trouble from just four!

The best part was getting to meet all the kids Ryan talks about and being able to put a face with the name. Most of the kids made a point to search me out sometime during the night to have a quick chat. A few that I know better than others would sit and have a longer conversation. Teenagers are interesting people if you give them room to talk.

But did you know they travel in packs? I guess I should have remembered that from my own teens, but this time I had the opportunity to just sit back and watch. For awhile, Roger and I sat at the kitchen table playing Gin Rummy. A pack of kids would come down from upstairs to grab some food. Next thing you know, another pack was down until eventually just about all the kids were downstairs. By then, a pack had moved outside so that, eventually, they had all moved outside. When a group decided they would go upstairs, they would soon be all upstairs dancing and playing pool again. I’m guessing this is similar to how the buffalo roam.

So, what do you feed 40 teenagers? The first year, we went all out and they didn’t eat half the food. My little family, my in-laws at the bottom of the hill, and our neighbors were eating chicken nuggets, french fries, and onion rings for days. This year, Ryan said, "Mom, let’s just do some chips and dip this year." Sounded good to me so we had Hot Tamale Dip served with corn chips and tortillas, Homemade French Onion Dip served with plain potato chips, and Avocado Dip served with purple tortilla chips. I did cook four of those "It’s not delivery" pizzas and a few chicken strips. It’s a good thing, too, because this year, they actually ate most of what I cooked. Go figure... Who can predict teenagers? And where are they when you need them?

What is Bunco?

"What IS Bunco?" I get asked that question quite frequently – mostly from men. The whole thing, I think, seems very mysterious to men. Why do all those women get together every month? What do they do while they are there? Why is there so much laughing involved?

At first glance, Bunco is a game. The rules for Bunco varies between the many, many groups around the country. Basically it is a dice game played in groups of four people. The four people at the table roll three dice for a particular number. Points are scored based on how many of that number are rolled. If you roll three of a number, you score a BUNCO. When someone at the head table gets to 21 points or the first time a BUNCO is rolled, the round ends and everyone at the table scores a "win" or a "loss" based on their score when play stops. After three rounds, the losing team moves to another table and play is resumed. There are other rules and other variations, but this gives the gist of the game.

Now that you know a little about the game, I will tell you the REAL answer to, "What is Bunco?". Bunco is an excuse — an excuse to get together with my girl friends once a month... an excuse to talk and laugh and cut-up... an excuse to get out of the house or, when my turn to host comes around, an excuse to have friends over. It seems that my friends and I are forever promising to"get together soon" or "do lunch" or "cookout sometime," but life gets in the way. We are all busy with our families and our work and the convenient time to get together just never happens.

So, on Bunco night, we all gather... to play a game, yes... to win prizes, yes... but also to catch-up on each other’s lives, to tell stories about what our children have been up to now, to brag or complain – whichever is most applicable – about our spouses or boyfriends.

For me, hosting Bunco is also an excuse to try-out new recipes on a new batch of people. Thursday night was Bunco at my house so I tested Fun Bacon Cheeseburger Roll-ups, Upside-Down Pan Pizza, Strawberry Pudding Dessert, and Almond Joy Pie. I served them with peas from last year's garden and okra and tomatoes cooked together. The test recipes were a success, and judging from my hubbies comments about the noise level (he was hiding out in the bedroom) a good time was had by all.

--Sheila

(Sheila Simmons is Publisher at Great American Cookbooks • Their newest publications Game for All Seasons Cookbook and Tennessee Hometown Cookbook will be available soon. If you are a Bunco fan, visit their Bunco website www.weplaybunco.com; there is a very convenient scorecard available for download that includes numbers across the bottom to keep-up with your score.)

Bicycles, Honeysuckle, and Supper

Do you remember Honeysuckle? I do, but until yesterday I had not thought about it in years. Roger, Ryan, Nicholas and I were enjoying a late-evening bicycle ride down the “main” (they are all country roads where we live) road beside the house. It was a warm, but not too hot, 70 degrees with a light wind – perfect for a bicycle ride.

As man of the house, Roger was out in front and yelled back with “can you smell that?” Just as I was about to ask “what,” I caught the scent, too. That aroma of honeysuckle growing beside the road brought back many, many memories at once.

I can remember being just about my youngest son’s age (Nicholas is 8) and riding my bicycle down the gravel roads around my house. I was always barefooted wearing shorts and a t-shirt and more often than not at least one of my many first cousins was riding along with me. We’d take frequent breaks to sit along the side of the road in the shade of the big trees, and, of course, taste the honeysuckle. I don’t think I’ve had a single gourmet meal in my adulthood that tasted as good as that honeysuckle did when I was eight years old.

Back in the present, Roger and Ryan had ridden ahead in a competition to see who could ride fastest. Nicholas and I were riding slow and easy, enjoying the weather, and talking about our day. Nic suddenly pulled off, dropped his bicycle in the grass, and asked, “Have you ever tried these, Momma?” as he reaches a honeysuckle bush beside the road.

It makes me happy to know that a new generation is enjoying the small pleasure of honeysuckle. So, we sat, Mother and son, in the shade of the big trees beside the road and tasted honeysuckle. I noticed that Nicholas would pick the delicate flower, break off the bottom, and suck the nectar as through a straw. This is, of course, a legitimate way to taste honeysuckle.

However, I earned a few “mommy points” by showing him the way I learned as a child. You pick the flower and gently break off the bottom keeping the little stem in the center intact. You then gently pull that stem out the bottom and the “ball” at the top brings the nectar through. When you gently touch this to your tongue, it’s honeysuckle heaven.

If you don’t know the pure and simple pleasure of honeysuckle, it’s not too late. Take your kids or grandkids (or a neighbor’s kid if you have to) on a bicycle ride (or a walk or even a car ride), locate some honeysuckle, and take time to sit beside the road and taste the sweet nectar. You won’t regret it.

We spent so much time on our bicycle ride, that I had to do a quick supper when we returned to the house. I had some catfish fillets in the freezer, so I thawed them quickly and made this Hot and Sweet Baked Catfish. We enjoyed it over rice, with corn nuggets (most of which the kids, mine and three or four neighbor boys, ate right out of the bowl while everything else was cooking), and Okra & Tomatoes (frozen, sliced okra with a can of petite-dice tomatoes, a touch of sugar, and a little thyme... and a little time). It was delightful follow-up to an enjoyable evening.

Sheila Simmons, Publisher • Great American Cookbooks • Visit our database for more great recipes. • Submit YOUR recipe to be considered for publication.