Sometime ago, I told you about meeting up with an old friend. I did my best to tell him what my days were all about without being too lengthy or boring. Although I did not realize it at the time, I failed to tell him what my “joys” are.

Nothing could be as enjoyable as the time I spend eating. I am the product of the queens of country cooking – my mother and my wife.

I also eat regularly with some of my friends. One evening while dining with them, we discussed our favorite country dishes. I never will forget my father attempting to make me like okra by telling me it would make me a big, strong man.

My sisters loved okra, and I can see them now as they sucked on those slimy pods as they ate their meal. It absolutely turned me against it in any form.

My friend that night kidded me as to why I didn’t enjoy such a delicious dish. Before I knew it, each of us was talking about the dishes we most enjoyed and those we disliked.

My most favorite meal any day would be rice with peas or beans, turnips and fried butts meat with corn bread on the side. I was pleased to learn that most of my friends enjoy the same country delicacies that I do. Don’t get me wrong, I eat almost anything except that nasty okra.

Nothing would ever take the place of the seasonal sliced tomatoes and other foods that are too numerous to mention.

My cousins in Sumter raised pigeons, and they enjoyed eating squab. Never did I learn to eat those scrawny looking little birds!

I must admit that you can’t judge the taste of anything by how it looks (except okra). Pig parts aren’t the best looking food, for instance. As a boy, I hated butchering time and the old “pudding pot” days. I believe we ate everything but the hooves.

This reminds me of the night our group feasted on seafood gumbo. I made sure after eating a small amount that I told the cook how delicious it was. I lied. On my way home that night, I knew I had eaten my first and last seafood gumbo. It really wasn’t what this dish looked like that made me dislike it but the okra that was in it.

I remembered again the words of my father that okra would make you a strong man.

If this is what it takes, I’ll go down in history as a weakling.

Lest we forget ...

T&D Columnist Rinehart Chewning is a longtime resident of Holly Hill.

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