YOU WANT A BISHCUIT?

I am going to make fried okra this weekend.

There is something about picking up our organic vegetables from the CSA(Community Supported Agriculture) vegetable co-op we joined this summer and planning to come home, cover them in corn meal and eggs, and deep fry them in artery clogging oil. I don't know, it just seems like that's not the way the CSA people intended their vegetables to be used.

I think they probably intended for them to be sliced and eaten raw; maybe with a little balsamic vinegar drizzled over them, followed with a plate of organic fruit and granola and then a long hike in the woods while playing a bamboo flute and wearing Birkenstocks.

Not that I have anything against Birkenstocks. I hear they're really comfortable.

But no raw vegetable plate for me.

No sir, I'm gonna fry me up some okra and serve it up next to a big ole hamburger, followed by a cosmic brownie and a trip to the basement where I will plop on the couch and watch trashy television.

Okra? You may ask.

Yes, okra. The CSA sent us some okra and I'm going to have to use it.

Since I went to college in the South, I learned to eat fried okra. And I liked it. So I can't look at this fresh organic okra in my kitchen without thinking of my college cafeteria days.

*disclaimer - if you don't think Arkansas is The South, listen to them talk. They're Southerners too, folks. Oh, and the summers down there? O. PRESSIVE. Besides that, that's where I learned the proper usage of "ya'll."

When I was in college we had two cafeterias - the poor students' cafeteria and the rich students' cafeteria. Actually they were called Pattie Cobb Cafeteria (poor) or Heritage Cafeteria (rich).

Guess which one I ate in.

Yep, the poor one.

But it was fun. It was located in the basement of a women's dorm that was actually closed for renovation my freshman year. The cafeteria had a separate entrance so the renovations didn't effect it in any way. And the people there were fun. 'Cause poor people can be fun too.

At Pattie Cobb our meal plan was such that we paid one lump sum for our meals for the semester and our meal card was marked off each time we ate. We were allowed three meals a day, but I think I ate breakfast in there twice. Yep, we actually had a construction paper card and the cashier would "X" out the meal or punch it with a plain old paper punch. At Heritage each ITEM was charged separately to the student's account and the cheapest meal plan there was more expensive than the ONLY meal plan available for Pattie Cobb diners. The Heritage plan was tricky because it often meant the guys ran out of money on their meal card while the girls had money left over to use up before their next meal card was issued. My room mate was always bringing in armloads of chips and cookies to use up the money on her meal card. Not that I minded...I like Grandma's Peanut Butter Cookies. Either that, or she'd be buying supper for some guy the last few days of each month. It is important to note that the Heritage diners ALSO had simple construction paper meal cards with several amounts printed on the bottom and the cashier had to "X" out the amount for each item. I don't think plastic meal cards were on the college scene yet when I was in college a LOOOOOOONG time ago.

Anyway.

Also at Pattie Cobb, we didn't have as many selections as the Heritage diners did. I usually had a breaded chicken breast sandwich or the potato bar. And fried okra.

There was one little old man who worked the service line at Pattie Cobb. He pulled the tray off the stack and put a bun on it before passing it to the next person. But before he put the bun on the tray, he'd look at you and say "You want a BISHCUIT?" And I'd say, "Yes, please" or "No thank you." My Southern friends would say "Yes Sir" or "No Sir," because Southern kids always said "Ma'am" or "Sir."

And then we'd hear the BISHCUIT man ask that same question as we moved through the line.

"You want a BISHCUIT?"
"You want a BISHCUIT?"
"You want a BISHCUIT?"

And he'd always say BISHCUIT a little louder and with more ooomph than the other words.

To this day, when Paul and I are making something with buns, or actually serving biscuits, we ask our kids "You want a BISHCUIT?"

And they look at us with the same blank expressions they've responded with for the last several years - ever since the BISHCUIT line was introduced in our household - and say something like "that wasn't funny the first time we heard it and it's not funny now."

But it cracks us up every time.

And isn't that what's important - that WE think we're funny?

So, I've bought my cornmeal and I'm planning my fried okra for tomorrow. And if we get okra next week from the co-op, I will be searching for a good gumbo recipe.

And I think I'll serve it with BISHCUITS.