Good heavens David, you must have a damn fine eye to drop a frog, even a large one at distance!
I didn't realise frogs legs were quite such a delicacy in any part of the US! Here of course, they make common eating, can be bought frozen in most good supermarkets even! Alas, I, as only a half native, have yet to acquire a taste for those green hoppers, still preferring mine to be leaping from lily pads and singing at the tops of their little voices. Too often I have been mocked at a fine table as I decline, politely always, a serving of this crispy, garlicky dish. Despite the hilarity and obvious incredulity I cause I simply can't quite bring myself to feast upon them, clearly I have never sat at quite such a hospitable table such as that of Bone and Miss Martha... I applaud your bravery and at such a young age too.
There would never be any forcing involved however to taste "a fat slice of Miss Martha’s blue-ribbon pecan pie" the mere thought of pecans baked in darkest Muscovado brown sugar and maple syrup wrapped in a short buttery crust is enough to make my taste buds overly excited!
Thank you my dear friend for your story, beautifully filled with just the right amount of love and deliciousness!
It makes perfect sense that frog legs would be rather common fare in France, I guess. They are not nearly so mainstream here, except in certain regions of the country where they are abundant and beloved. Another commenter to this post said that she regularly bought them at Piggly Wiggly when she was much younger and on a tighter food budget. Piggly Wigglys are a large chain of grocery stores often found in small towns and big cities in the South.
As for shooting them, hmmm, I've never been much good, as a wing shooter with a shotgun, but something about the steady breath and concentration of a rifle always made a certain amount of sense to my senses. I've always been a reasonably decent shot.
We learned early on not to be picky eaters. It simply wasn't allowed, but it stood us in good stead when our family developed dear friendships with students from India and Thailand at the university and we were then invited to their social gatherings or they would come over to our house and use of our kitchen to prepare the foods they were homesick for.
What culinary and olfactory wonders this opened up to a kid like me, who just naturally liked spicy foods from a very young age and how helpful it was when work took me, again and again to strange and wonderful places in the world, from backstreets in China to subsistence gathering in coastal Alaska, to calf branding and castrations in Montana. Strange foods didn't much scare me.
So let's make a deal. When ya'll come over to meet some actual otters in the wild and maybe some Lazuli Buntings, too, you bring a few of your favorite recipes to make, and I'll bake you your choice of a Southern Pecan Pie or an original, Lindy's style cheesecake with a shortbread crust for dessert, after grilling you up a slab of just caught salmon marinated with lemon and soy, fresh grated ginger and crushed coriander in dried lavender smoke. The pecan pie won't likely measure up to Miss Martha's, but it'll hold its own and almost certainly put a smile on your face.
I'm always like a kid on Christmas morning when I see I've gotten a note from you, my friend. I am, as always delighted and grateful.
We tried frog legs at a fancy restaurant in New Orleans. Yep, tastes like chicken. I also have a childhood memory of staring at a bucket full of live frogs in China. I wanted them to be my pets, but they were destined for a different fate.
After reading your delightfully weaved story, I closed my eyes and remembered listening to croaking MS frogs at night and how much Grandpa liked to eat frog legs. He would take off at night on a hunting venture, with a twinkle in his eyes while holding a frog geiger in his hand!
Though i’ve had my fair share of culinary adventures, frog legs have yet to be among them. Maybe someday. And if it included such hospitality as this, I’d be in heaven.
Another great chapter David! Makes me think of my dad and his affinity for frog legs, and meals at my uncle's table in the mountains of western NC. Wild game was a frequent main course. Don't know for a fact that I had frogs legs, but it was very possible...crawdads were a delicacy in that area as well.
Always a pleasure to find a note from you, Frank. Thank you, once again for making time to offer such encouragement. And yes, mudbugs/crawdads. I'll take a dozen, please.
I grew up in the ‘50’s in California eating frog legs that my father and his family gigged. I ate a lot of different animals that my hunted to supplement our food. We were considered poor although I never knew or felt that at the time.
Now I have been eating less and less meat since my compassion for all living beings has evolved and I plan one day soon to completely stop.
My husband is not on board with this, but he may have to or learn to cook for himself. 😊
Thanks for this article. It did bring back great memories of my childhood and family memories of helping each other.
Very pleasing story. First time I was introduced to frog legs uncles told not to eat too many or they’d make me jumpy. Haha. Then later received similar wit for my first squirrel dinner. Despite my uncles’ ribbing I discovered eating critters (but not groundhog) was pretty darn good.
I have always aspired to be one of 'those' uncles, myself. Uncle jokes are kinda like dad jokes, but you can sometimes sneak in a cuss word, cuz you aren't their dad.
Trying to get my head around eating groundhog, ouch.
You write really well. I am learning a lot about the development of masculinity in the south. I am somewhat out of my depth as the western girl, Massachusetts transplant, squeamish and non-violent person I have been, but I like to open new worlds.
As for that Southern masculinity thing... uhhhhh, yeah. I'm mostly grateful, now, that I was booted and came back to the West. There were undercurrents there in the deeps that I never could quite understand. I always felt a little mystified and peripheral. But damn it was a fascinating place to learn...
Good heavens David, you must have a damn fine eye to drop a frog, even a large one at distance!
I didn't realise frogs legs were quite such a delicacy in any part of the US! Here of course, they make common eating, can be bought frozen in most good supermarkets even! Alas, I, as only a half native, have yet to acquire a taste for those green hoppers, still preferring mine to be leaping from lily pads and singing at the tops of their little voices. Too often I have been mocked at a fine table as I decline, politely always, a serving of this crispy, garlicky dish. Despite the hilarity and obvious incredulity I cause I simply can't quite bring myself to feast upon them, clearly I have never sat at quite such a hospitable table such as that of Bone and Miss Martha... I applaud your bravery and at such a young age too.
There would never be any forcing involved however to taste "a fat slice of Miss Martha’s blue-ribbon pecan pie" the mere thought of pecans baked in darkest Muscovado brown sugar and maple syrup wrapped in a short buttery crust is enough to make my taste buds overly excited!
Thank you my dear friend for your story, beautifully filled with just the right amount of love and deliciousness!
It makes perfect sense that frog legs would be rather common fare in France, I guess. They are not nearly so mainstream here, except in certain regions of the country where they are abundant and beloved. Another commenter to this post said that she regularly bought them at Piggly Wiggly when she was much younger and on a tighter food budget. Piggly Wigglys are a large chain of grocery stores often found in small towns and big cities in the South.
As for shooting them, hmmm, I've never been much good, as a wing shooter with a shotgun, but something about the steady breath and concentration of a rifle always made a certain amount of sense to my senses. I've always been a reasonably decent shot.
We learned early on not to be picky eaters. It simply wasn't allowed, but it stood us in good stead when our family developed dear friendships with students from India and Thailand at the university and we were then invited to their social gatherings or they would come over to our house and use of our kitchen to prepare the foods they were homesick for.
What culinary and olfactory wonders this opened up to a kid like me, who just naturally liked spicy foods from a very young age and how helpful it was when work took me, again and again to strange and wonderful places in the world, from backstreets in China to subsistence gathering in coastal Alaska, to calf branding and castrations in Montana. Strange foods didn't much scare me.
So let's make a deal. When ya'll come over to meet some actual otters in the wild and maybe some Lazuli Buntings, too, you bring a few of your favorite recipes to make, and I'll bake you your choice of a Southern Pecan Pie or an original, Lindy's style cheesecake with a shortbread crust for dessert, after grilling you up a slab of just caught salmon marinated with lemon and soy, fresh grated ginger and crushed coriander in dried lavender smoke. The pecan pie won't likely measure up to Miss Martha's, but it'll hold its own and almost certainly put a smile on your face.
I'm always like a kid on Christmas morning when I see I've gotten a note from you, my friend. I am, as always delighted and grateful.
We tried frog legs at a fancy restaurant in New Orleans. Yep, tastes like chicken. I also have a childhood memory of staring at a bucket full of live frogs in China. I wanted them to be my pets, but they were destined for a different fate.
So it wasn’t just me?😉
After reading your delightfully weaved story, I closed my eyes and remembered listening to croaking MS frogs at night and how much Grandpa liked to eat frog legs. He would take off at night on a hunting venture, with a twinkle in his eyes while holding a frog geiger in his hand!
"...I closed my eyes and remembered listening to croaking MS frogs at night and how much Grandpa liked to eat frog legs."
There's an entire universe in that one sentence.
PS: (gigger)
Fabulous writing. Really draws in the reader. A world I don’t know brought to vivid life. That’s what reading is all about!
Thank you for the kindness of making time, for offering such encouragement.
The words deserve it 💛✍️💛
Beautiful—as always. And the audio is fantastic.
Though i’ve had my fair share of culinary adventures, frog legs have yet to be among them. Maybe someday. And if it included such hospitality as this, I’d be in heaven.
My road warrior friend, your generous notes are a gift. Thank you.
Yes, the hospitality. There is where the magic really lies. As I know you know.
May your taste buds dance with a froggy one day in the company of kind souls.
Road warrior! (blushes)
Another great chapter David! Makes me think of my dad and his affinity for frog legs, and meals at my uncle's table in the mountains of western NC. Wild game was a frequent main course. Don't know for a fact that I had frogs legs, but it was very possible...crawdads were a delicacy in that area as well.
Always a pleasure to find a note from you, Frank. Thank you, once again for making time to offer such encouragement. And yes, mudbugs/crawdads. I'll take a dozen, please.
Nice accent!
Thanks, pal.
Does it come anywhere close to the one you imagined as you were reading some of these stories finding their way onto the page all those years ago?
I grew up in the ‘50’s in California eating frog legs that my father and his family gigged. I ate a lot of different animals that my hunted to supplement our food. We were considered poor although I never knew or felt that at the time.
Now I have been eating less and less meat since my compassion for all living beings has evolved and I plan one day soon to completely stop.
My husband is not on board with this, but he may have to or learn to cook for himself. 😊
Thanks for this article. It did bring back great memories of my childhood and family memories of helping each other.
Vickie, what a fascinating glimpse. Thank you.
Funny, those looks back to humbler beginnings. We ate quite a bit of venison when I was little. Same thing... supplementing our food supply.
Your family sounds cool.
Very pleasing story. First time I was introduced to frog legs uncles told not to eat too many or they’d make me jumpy. Haha. Then later received similar wit for my first squirrel dinner. Despite my uncles’ ribbing I discovered eating critters (but not groundhog) was pretty darn good.
Heh, heh, heh...
I have always aspired to be one of 'those' uncles, myself. Uncle jokes are kinda like dad jokes, but you can sometimes sneak in a cuss word, cuz you aren't their dad.
Trying to get my head around eating groundhog, ouch.
You write really well. I am learning a lot about the development of masculinity in the south. I am somewhat out of my depth as the western girl, Massachusetts transplant, squeamish and non-violent person I have been, but I like to open new worlds.
Mare, thank you for such kind words.
As for that Southern masculinity thing... uhhhhh, yeah. I'm mostly grateful, now, that I was booted and came back to the West. There were undercurrents there in the deeps that I never could quite understand. I always felt a little mystified and peripheral. But damn it was a fascinating place to learn...