Archived Story

A time to cook, and a time to refrain

Published 11:00pm Friday, December 7, 2012

My granny said that your reputation follows you. So, you have to carve a good one for yourself.

I have a reputation for chicken livers. She would be proud.

My friend Bannie has a reputation for chocolate pies. She makes these “to die for” chocolate pies with a meringue six inches high. Every time there’s an eating, people expect her to bring chocolate pies.

They expect me to bring chicken livers. I oblige them.

Far be it from me to deny that my cooking days are behind me.

Although I am not a modern Millie, there is one “new” way that I subscribe to and that’s “eating out.”

Some people say that you can eat out as cheaply as you can cook at home.

That does not figure into the equation for me. I don’t care whether it costs more or less to eat out than it does to cook at home. My days of frying pork chops, washing turnip greens and peeling potatoes are done.

That’s not to say that I won’t cook a big meal on special occasions — and there are two of those, Christmas and Thanksgiving. Thankfully, I have one of those behind me this year.

The way I figure it is that I’ve done enough cooking in my lifetime. The Bible says there’s a season for everything—a time to cook and a time to refrain from cooking or something like that. I’m a believer.

And, I can pinpoint the exact day and time that I decided to put away the pots and pans and “go modern.”

It was the day that I watched as a five-quart, blue speckled, enamel stock pot of highly seasoned butterbeans slid down and off the hood of the car and crashed on the street with a platter of fried chicken right behind it.

I knew the folks at Brundidge United Methodist Church would not believe a story like that. I knew I couldn’t go to the homecoming potluck dinner empty handed. I didn’t even try.

I went straight to Crowe’s Fried Chicken, bought two boxes of chicken livers, put them in a covered dish and presented my offering.

Folks bragged on what I had brought. They didn’t ask if I had personally fried the chicken livers or how long it took or what the recipe was. They just “cleaned the platter.”

Now, I’ve always been told that you take what you learn and apply it elsewhere. I’ve applied what I learned that day to everyday situations. It matters no more if the iron frying pan has rusted, the Corning ware has broken, if I’ve misplaced the lid to the pressure cooker or if the grease can or the flour bin is empty.

I have a reputation with chicken livers.

People expect that of me.

 

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