Thoughts of those long, lazy southern summer days ahead tease and tickle like some kind of Dixie Medusa...sweetly serenading from somewhere beyond the willow, down the creek, and past the weathered barn with the barely discernible "See Rock City" roof.
Food...and language...they cook slowly and deliberately here. A wise southern grande dame speaks slowly and inserts extraordinary syllables into words, which buys her those extra beats to see into your soul. She cooks like she speaks....with that same brand of patience, calculation, spice, and timing.
Two of these grande dames passed on... this world lost them here in Atlanta this winter.
Coretta Scott King and Ms. Edna Lewis.
Good thing we had the presence of mind to record how they both helped stir the pots.
Good thing Ms King's works shine all around the world and all along Auburn Avenue.
Good thing Ms Edna's works live on in her cookbooks and the heart of Scott Peacock, who thanks to her, can lay down fried chicken so good that it can make you weep, over at Watershed.
http://www.epicurious.com/cooking/holiday/black_history/lewis
Edna left us so many of her southern secrets in this book. Those wicked little stories and wicked little culinary secrets that allowed this grande dame to conquer hearts and subdue the "good old boys", armed simply with patience, a sly understanding of the human condition, deviled eggs, fried chicken, and catfish.
