Cooking in the West

This week we will vote in a Presidential election that has the potential to change the course of our country. By the time this column runs, we will likely know the outcome of the 2024 election. Regardless of whom we chose to vote for, we have Veterans to thank for preserving our right to vote and our right to freedoms that we cannot take for granted.

As Veteran's Day approaches, my heartfelt gratitude goes out to all Veterans, but I especially feel deep sadness for those who served in Afghanistan who are feeling betrayed by their leaders who botched the exit and effectively erased all of their efforts as we handed the country back to terrorist organizations, gifted them 85 billion dollars' worth of military aircraft, weapons, and equipment, and sacrificed many of the support personnel who were left behind with an unfulfilled promise that we would get them out. Time can never erase the images of those so desperate to flea Afghanistan that they died trying to cling to a C-17 aircraft as it took off from the Kabul Airport.

I found a journal entry I wrote back in 2007 during the Iraq War that seems relevant yet today to honor Veterans:

I am writing this on a crumpled lunch bag while sitting in a camp chair on the bank of Meadow Creek in the Scapegoat Wilderness. There is not another human for miles, because the hunters and guides are hunting several drainages away. I feel extremely fortunate to be here in this incredible place that few people will ever experience. The sun is creeping down towards the tops of the mountains to the west. The wispy clouds that were tinged purple are now turning pink and orange.

The potatoes are peeled, the baking is done, the cookies are waiting, the lanterns are filled, the cook tent is swept, the wood and water have been hauled, and I know the turkey is doing well in the oven because I can smell it from here. The horses and mules left in the corral are dozing in the waning light. The camp robbers, squirrels, and chipmunks are busy scouting for camp morsels. It just doesn't get any better than this.

Suddenly my train of grateful thought was broken by something that one of the hunters from Louisiana, had said yesterday. Conversation in the cook tent had turned to politics as often happens. The radio had just announced that this has been the bloodiest year in Iraq with 852 American casualties to date. Kyle said that he would move to Canada before he would send a son to fight in Iraq, and as the mother of a 19 year old son, I had to sheepishly admit that I would want to do the same thing.

I love this country and everything it stands for, but I cannot wrap my mind around the sacrifices those men and women stationed halfway across the world are willing to make so that I can sit here as blissful and free as the eagle playing on the wind currents above Meadow Creek. I cannot imagine how the mothers of those soldiers felt when they watched their sons or daughters walk away for what could be the last time. Every one of them is directly responsible for my freedom.

I have seen the pictures on the internet of our soldiers trenched down for the night in the hot sand with more hot sand blowing over them. I cannot fathom their discomfort, homesickness, and fear, because I have never experienced anything remotely similar in my sheltered life as a native born American.

The price of freedom is so great, and it has been borne by so many. Sitting here in paradise, I realize that every Veteran of every war fought in the history of this great country made this priceless moment possible for me. Every mother who ever watched her son or daughter go off to fight for my freedom puts me to shame. My heart aches for the thousands of mothers, fathers, spouses, and children who received the telegram or the knock on the door telling them that their loved one had paid the ultimate price for the freedom we take for granted every day. I cannot even comprehend making that kind of sacrifice, and yet without their courage, dedication, and ultimate sacrifices, this one nation under God would cease to exist.

So, with Veteran's Day coming up, I want to acknowledge that every Veteran of every war this country has ever fought made this moment on the bank of Meadow Creek possible for me. Thanking Veterans seems trite and inadequate, but with heartfelt gratitude and support, I salute every one of you!

Kyle, the repeat client who inspired that journal entry on the paper bag, brought me two cookbooks from Louisiana. I would like to share a few recipes from the textbook of Louisiana cuisine, "River Road Recipes." Thanks, Kyle!

Hush Puppies

1 C. cornmeal

1 t. baking powder

1 t. salt

1 t. sugar

1 C. flour

1 egg

3/4 C. milk

dash of red pepper

chopped green onion tops

1 T. grated onion

Sift dry ingredients into bowl. Beat egg, add milk, and add this to cornmeal mixture. Add onion and red pepper. Drop by spoonful in hot (375 degree) deep fat and fry until brown. Should you like a lot of crust, these may be patted flat. Yields 2 dozen.

Shrimp Gumbo

2 lbs. shrimp

2 T. oil

2 T. flour

3 C. okra, chopped

2 onions, chopped

2 T. oil

1 can tomatoes

2 quarts water

1 bay leaf

1 t. salt

3 cloves garlic, chopped

red pepper (opt.)

Peel shrimp uncooked and devein. Make dark roux of flour and oil. Add shrimp to this for a few minutes stirring constantly. Set aside. Smother okra and onions in oil. Add tomatoes when okra is nearly cooked. Then add water, bay leaf, garlic, salt, and pepper. Add shrimp and roux to this. Cover and cook slowly for 30 minutes. Serve with rice.

Baked Bananas

4 T. butter

6 firm medium sized bananas

1/2 C. sugar

1 lemon

Place 3 T. butter in heavy skillet. Add bananas 2 or 3 at a time and brown. Lift gently with spatula and place side by side in shallow baking dish. Sprinkle with sugar and squeeze lemon juice over all. Dot with remaining butter and bake at 350 degrees until bananas are tender and syrup thickens (about 30 minutes).