Curt's Bounty

Well, I think I've managed to turn my brother Curt into a behind-the-scenes blog monster. Now that he's actually reading my blog, his not-so-gentle nudging to convince me to include more of him in my posts has officially begun. Out of the blue, he sent me a few photos of the fruits and peppers of his labor from the country (Mother's). In efforts to be a wonderful little sister, I'm devoting this entire post to him and only him. Curt, this one's for you.

Peaches:
Blueberries:
Hot Peppers:
He really does have a green thumb...wish I did.

Sheila Denise

Fourth of July in the Country

On Friday night, I was still undecided regarding what to do for the holiday weekend, but at midnight-thirty I made the decision to spend the holiday weekend in the country. I grew up in Glenwood and Mother still lives there. So, I was up at 6AM on Saturday, packing and swearing because I wanted to sleep in, but the thought of leaving Atlanta (and interstate highways) behind for a few days was quite appealing and I was suddenly in the mood for my little road trip to "The Wood" as I call it.

I took a little detour along the way to get a couple of boxes of peaches for Big Brother Curt, who lives in Savannah and just might possibly love peaches more than I do. Well, my plan was to go to Lane Southern Orchards in Fort Valley, but Curt suggested I shorten my trip by dropping by the Macon Farmers Market, shaving a few miles off my trip (and to get the peaches to him faster). A visit to ANY farmers market is an exciting thing for me. As a bumpkin who grew up on "home grown" foods, I'm always thrilled to meet and talk with the vendors who actually grow their supply. My first stop was Michelle's for tomatoes...OMG how I love REAL tomatoes. I'll likely eat so many this summer that I'll be sick of them until next summer. Across from Michelle's was Cameron's who had beautiful, fragrant peaches and freshly picked UNSHELLED purple-hull peas. The story on the peas is quite short...Mother REFUSES to accept peas that are already shelled--she needs to shell them herself and at 81, let's just say she gets what she wants. I'll add with glee that she doesn't expect us to pitch in with the shelling, so we have a win-win situation. The thought of watermelon crossed my mind, but I decided to hold out to get a few from "the man at the light" in Glenwood (the light is the BIG intersection in "town" with our only traffic light). Now it's back on the road to the country and before I know it, I'm greeted by the familiar sights of home.

When I walk into the kitchen, the mixer is on the counter and I spotted a recipe for a Lemon Meringue Cake. Yippee!!! Curt's planning to bake a cake!! The ingredients list led me to believe that it would be absolutely divine...

...and it was. As a matter of fact, it was cheek puckering hyper-lemony goodness. It was so good that I'm proud to admit that I "stole" the recipe. I am definitely making this bad boy (after I lose 20 pounds) or when the lemon craving takes over--whichever comes first.

I walked around the backyard, eating a homemade popsicle (the healthiest thing of the weekend--strawberries, vanilla Greek yogurt a bit of sugar and lime juice) and admiring nature and Curt's various plants, ranging from purple and green hot peppers to peaches to okra. Here are a few photos of my little outing.





There's an unwritten code while in "The Wood" that simply states there is no such thing as being on a diet or eating when you're hungry. In the country, you eat because you can and that's exactly what I do each time--this visit was no different. I'm a little ill just thinking about all food I've inhaled since Saturday, so I won't give y'all a rundown. I'll simply post a few shots of Sunday afternoon's chowing.

"Real" Tomatoes, Grilled Asparagus & Pasta Salad:

Purple Hull Peas & Butterbeans with Okra (both with TONS of cured pork--please don't ask):

Grilled Corn & Pork Chops (I became a little engrossed in conversation, but the chops were still fabu):

Fried Okra & Hoe Cakes:


I enjoyed my holiday in the country with family and friends and I'm very pleased with my last minute decision. Escaping the city really does a mind and body good (well okay maybe not the body). The diet starts (again) right after another piece of cake.

I hope you had a safe and enjoyable holiday!!


Sheila Denise

Turning 50

Today marks the 50th birthday of my late brother, Tony. 50, fifty, the Big Five-O...however you put it, he'd be half a century old. WOW!!!


I was talking with my other brother, Curt, a few days ago, and we were discussing Tony and wondering how Mother feels to have such "old" children. As the youngest, I was really referring to everyone BUT me. Nita & Curt are both pushing HARD on 60's door and I know I'll always be a "baby" in Mother's eyes. As a non-parent, I'm always amazed to see young-uns I've know from babyhood to adulthood, so I can only imagine how parents feel when their babies evolve into full-fledged grownups. I mean AARPers, seniors-shopping-on-discount-days and the likes. Mother happens to be the proud owner of some of these people and it simply boggles my mind.

As I thought about this entry last week, I wasn't sure which direction to take it--should I keep it serious or should I be as Tony was--silly as all get-out. After Facebooking with Alexander, the youngest of his three sons (Andre-oldest & Jamal-middle), I decided that silly would be the route to take. Since I tend to assign numbers to "The Nephews", Andre is #3, Jamal is #4 and Alexander is #5 (just for future reference if names aren't used).

I can hear Tony's distinctive "squiggle" as I type this--it's kinda hard to describe or duplicate his laugh, so the best I can do is blend a squeal with a giggle. It was one of those sounds you'd hear coming from him and you'd burst into laughter too (after you got over the shock of that sound actually coming from a boy). Mind you, the entire family is quite silly, so it doesn't take much to get us on the giggle train, but there was absolutely no way we could hear Tony squiggling and not join in. Don't you just love folks that make you laugh??

You know what?? I've decided that I won't turn this into a long story about Tony. I'm going to end it here and ask you to think about the person who possesses "that" laugh...you know, the one that throws you into your own little gigglefest and leaves no doubt that they are truly tickled from their toes to their nose. That's exactly what I'm doing today.

Happy Birthday T!!

Sheila Denise

Hen & Dumplings By Curtis, My Brother

A true southerner knows not everyone can make Hen & Dumplngs, which leads me to declare that it should only be done by those who can do it successfully. The destruction of a perfectly good hen and dough, should be illegal.

Let me preface this by stating--my brother Curtis is a DAMN GOOD COOK. He is one of the best cooks/bakers I know, and given the fact that I've have years of "good-food-eating" experience, that says alot. Thankfully, we're all good cooks, which kinda sorta explains my need to lose a few pounds, but this post isn't about my butt, it's about the Hen & Dumplings.

Curt (we call him Curt), can cook/bake anything and does so on a very regular basis (unlike Riley, our sister who has to ensure the proper alignment of the stars, the stillness of the wind and who knows what else before she turns the cooktop/oven to the "on" position).

We all spent the weekend at Mother's (yes I call her Mother) to celebrate her 80th birthday. When I arrived on Friday evening, Curt was stewing the hen and I must say, it smelled divine. I was eager to taste this treat, as I haven't had real Hen & Dumplings in a few years. My Aunt Maxine's were the the last version I had eaten. Curt said this would be Sunday dinner. I wasn't going to be there for Sunday dinner so I planned to take a care package home for my Sunday pleasure.


Every time I go to Mother's for any type of shin-dig, I somehow eat nonstop during the entire visit, and this trip was no different. I shortchanged myself when I was putting my little Hen & Dumplings care package together. I was so stuffed, that I only took enough to feed a small child, a very, very small child--the biggest mistake I've made in recent history. As I reheated my tiny care package, I tried to pretend it was enough, but in fact it was simply a teaser. I had to search for one of my smallest bowls to serve it in. Lesson learned--no matter how stuffed you are, take enough Hen & Dumplings for at least two people or you'll regret it.

Curt called me on Sunday morning and advised that the dish needed pepper and I didn't need any coaxing to add pepper (and thyme). Oh the joy of comfort food.



Sheila Denise