Darlene's Digest

She excused herself from the heat of the cane fires and walked to the tables where the women were laying out an array of pumpkin and pecan pies, shortbread oozing with sweet jam, all of it covered with light cloths to keep the insects off. Crocks of preserves and pickled tomatoes, cucumbers, and relishes shone in the sun. Her persimmon cakes were added to the pile. While once Julia might have wondered who could consume so much food at one sitting, she’d seen the Crackers sit down to their victuals and knew the food would be little more than a memory by the time the day was done...The uncooked cane juice in the barrels was pale green, and as it cooked and was stirred it thickened and ripened to a deep amber, becoming the syrup prized for sweetening everything from coffee to pecan pie to biscuits. “It’s a lot of work to get a little sweetness in your life.” Julia looked over her shoulder and favored her husband with an arch smile. “But worth the effort, don’t you think?” She looked bac...

“Please keep an eye on them. I’m going down to the beach for more water.” “What if they try to escape?” He handed her his stick. “Bash their little heads, Miss Farnham. They’ll behave.” She looked at him skeptically, but took the stick. Pompom sniffed all around the valise, then flopped down next to her, eyeing the pot with his head on his paws. Alex returned and added water to the pot, careful not to let it fall below a boil. Eventually, after some whining (the dog) and grumbling (Miss Farnham), he pronounced the crabs ready for consumption. He extracted the crabs by using his stick to flip them into the air. “Catch them, Daphne! Quick, before the dog grabs them!” Holding the valise open, Miss Farnham dashed about, catching the manna as it fell from the heavens. The dog barked, and she laughed, and Alexander felt almost lighthearted. He put it down to hunger. --Castaway Dreams I've always felt it's important to count your blessings as often as possible, but Thanksgiving ...

Before we celebrated US-style Thanksgiving in Florida (the Spaniards celebrated Thanksgiving with the Timucua Indians at St. Augustine long before those latecomer Pilgrims set foot aboard ship) we had cane grinding in the autumn to share the work and feast with friends: As the shadows lengthened, the men began gathering around the tables like wasps drawn to sweet fruit, cozying up to their women and trying to talk them out of some of the food before the feast officially began. Ma Ivey ruled her dirt yard like an empress and wasn’t above slapping a reaching hand with a wooden spoon when they drew too close. Finally though, the last of the cane was put through the mill and the syrup cooked down, and as the night sky filled with stars the feast began to a chorus of tree frogs and crickets serenading the workers. They lined up before the platters of roast pig and venison, quails, turkey, and doves. Even a possum or two joined the potatoes in the smoldering coals. There was fish stew a...

Alex returned and added water to the pot, careful not to let it fall below a boil. Eventually, after some whining (the dog) and grumbling (Miss Farnham), he pronounced the crabs ready for consumption. He extracted the crabs by using his stick to flip them into the air. “Catch them, Daphne! Quick, before the dog grabs them!” Holding the valise open, Miss Farnham dashed about, catching the manna as it fell from the heavens. The dog barked and she laughed and Alexander felt almost lighthearted. He put it down to hunger. --Castaway Dreams I've always felt it's important to count your blessings as often as possible, but Thanksgiving gives us a special focus on being grateful for the little things--food, shelter, puppies, and people who love us. I'm especially grateful for each and every one of my readers. When you take time to drop me a note saying you enjoyed my stories, it recharges my batteries and gets me back to the keyboard. Thank you. I couldn't do this...

Before we celebrated US style Thanksgiving in Florida (the Spaniards celebrated Thanksgiving at St. Augustine long before those latecomer Pilgrims set foot aboard ship) we had cane grinding in the autumn to share the work and feast with friends: From  SMUGGLER'S BRIDE :      As the shadows lengthened, the men began gathering around the tables like wasps drawn to sweet fruit, cozying up to their women, and trying to talk them out of some of the food before the feast officially began. Ma Ivey ruled her dirt yard like an empress and wasn't above slapping a reaching hand with a wooden spoon when they drew too close. Finally though, the last of the cane was put through the mill and the syrup cooked down, and as the night sky filled with stars the feast began to a chorus of tree frogs and crickets serenading the workers. They lined up before the platters of roast pig and venison, quails, turkey, and doves. Even a possum or two joined the potatoes in the smoldering coa...

Image by Old Shoe Woman via Flickr Chocolate Bourbon Pecan Pie Some of you have asked for my recipe for Chocolate Bourbon Pecan pie, so here it is. The secret to success is the quality of the ingredients. Having said that, I use a frozen pie shell because "quality" and my efforts at pie crust making do not go hand-in-hand. However, if you're skilled in that area, go for it. This recipe is in two steps. The pecans bathe in the bourbon overnight. Otherwise it's fairly quick and simple. About 1 cup of good bourbon 1.5 cups pecan halves (fresh shelled are best) 3 eggs, slightly beaten 1 cup dark corn syrup (I'm told you can use pecan syrup, but I haven't tried that yet) 4 oz. top quality bittersweet cooking chocolate, melted and cooled (I love Scharffen Berger for this recipe) 2 Tablespoons butter or margarine, melted (I use margarine to keep it non-dairy, but butter would be better) 1/3 cup sugar 1 teaspoon vanilla extract 1 unbaked 9" pastry shell Soa...

Image by h-bomb via Flickr Thanksgiving Prep Pies are done, most of the groceries are purchase, picking up son tonight, farmers market tomorrow. Must be almost Thanksgiving!

Image via Wikipedia I was at the farmers market yesterday (briefly, it started raining again) and managed to score some of the first crop of China Honey oranges and pecans. The China Honeys tend to sell out very quickly, but I got there early enough to get a 1/4 bushel. Mmmm...sweet, easy to skin, juicy China Honeys. But the real prize was the pecans. I'd been a bit nervous because Leo didn't have his pecans in at the beginning of November because of the unusually warm weather. Now I can shell them to make my pecan pies for Thanksgiving. Normally my dear husband shells the pecans, but he's having a busy month so I'm giving him a break. That custom of him doing the shelling goes back to early in our marriage. We were broke, and the packaged, shelled pecans in the supermarket were too expensive for my budget. He needed to go to Tallahassee on business and on the way back passed a roadside pecan stand. Knowing how much I love pecan pie, he bought a bag, brought the...

Image via Wikipedia Happy Thanksgiving! I want to wish all my friends a very happy Thanksgiving holiday. I'm thankful for my family, my health, and the joy I experience when people say my stories entertained them. Thank you all very much. And I don't care what those Yankees claim, the first Thanksgiving was celebrated in 1565, in St. Augustine, Florida. You can read more about it here.

Thanksgiving has come and gone, and it was delightful. We had both boys home, the food came out well and cooked on time, we had wonderful guests for supper. Over the weekend got to see some of the other young adults who grew up with our lads and have since moved away. I just returned from the 4 hr. trek to Orlando's airport so my eldest could catch his plane to NYC. The traffic on I-75 and the Florida Turnpike was intense, but not backed up in any major sense, so it all went well. I was briefly tempted to go to the Florida Mall in Orlando and visit those stores we don't have up here, but I slapped myself upside the head with a reminder that it's the Sunday after Thanksgiving and the mall will still be packed. Plus, I'd rather shop in my own community, even if the selection isn't as broad. The youngest is on his way out the door loaded down with leftovers, heading back to his apartment at UF and the house is once again quiet and the nest empty. Poor Yofi has be...