White on White

I've collected white dishes since 1965.  
I was in high school then and it was long before Martha was Martha,
and long before my last name became White.

My sister Sandra and I never had real hope chests (although my 85 year old mother still has hers which Sandra, the eldest, will inherit one day), we just collected stuff.  Sandra collected Elvis albums, and still has a complete collection, and I collected decor, dishes, art, and

Porcupines!

Autumn reminds me of a lot of things,
none the least of these are porcupines
simmering in the slow cooker.

I don't associate Porcupines with my mother, as she didn't make them, but Bobby Witenhafer's mother next door to us made them with gusto.  Bobby was the neighborhood nerd -- every neighborhood has to have one, you know, and by today's standards for the popularity of nerdism, Bobby would have been the most popular kid in school.  He was really a sweetheart, but back then "yahoo!" meant "Yahoo! we're going to Diary Queen for ice cream sundaes."  Intellectual guys like Bobby just weren't in fashion.  Here's Bobby's photo, next to Judy Wishneff who was in my close circle of friends:

Anyway, Bobby's mother, Mrs. Witenhafer (all the moms in my neighborhood oddly had the same first name: Mrs.) made the best Porcupines in the world, and maybe even in the Milky Way Galaxy, and they're so simple to make, I'm almost embarrassed to include them in Blairsvillager.com, but I 

To Everything There is a Season

 




The summer Adirondack chairs are stacked and ready for the shed.  They look lonely amidst the turning leaves, as though their usefulness has played out.






Their lazy comfort seems suddenly out of place in these new days of Autumn that were not meant for lounging barefoot in loose shorts and tee-shirts over tall glasses of iced tea, but for brisk walks in long sleeves, pants and warm socks and later, sipping cups of hot mulled cider.

 






When I see my old garden cart sitting vulnerably naked and empty of the soil and twigs and weeds it so selflessly hauled for me, I dream of pumpkin farms and hayrides, and long hikes in the woods.












Then I look down, and know it's all worth it --- that autumn is a time for reflection; a time to regroup and refresh.  A time where green meets its match -- but never its competition --  in orange, gold, red, and brown.

 

I grew up in a place where everything was always the same.  The seasons never changed.

I know now I could never go back to that. 

The sameness of it never filled my soul with whispered things, like the morning mist of the mountains.

 

I feel protected by the misty shroud.......like a woman hiding behind a veil -- 
needing to let go and brush the veil aside to see and be seen.  But waiting until 10:00 a.m.

 

Jackson's Jolly

Beverly Jackson personally chose the menu for Bobby Jackson's and Missy Mashburn's birthday luncheon at Jackson Insurance on Thursday.

























When I asked Beverly how many to cook for, she said, "Ten people probably, I think, maybe." I have all but forgotten how to cook for only ten people.  The medical offices I cook for in Gainesville, Toccoa, Franklin, Waynesville and Asheville are anywhere from 25 to 55 people.  But when Beverly Jackson asks anything of me, she can consider it done. I go into automatic mode because I'd do anything within my power for these people --- I love these people!  Besides, cooking for probably-maybe-10 is like having a day off

Rolls Rustica

Ready for the oven -- a sheet of Office Gourmet Crusty rolls.

I get more questions about my famous Office Gourmet fresh-baked European style rolls than almost anything else I cater.  I can be on-site at a catering job and before I'm completely unpacked, people are coming in begging for rolls.  I've learned to make extra.


 

The rolls are proofed uncovered on commercial half-sheet pans overnight to get the best rise and yeast development.  The number of rolls on the pan determines the size of the finished product.  Southerners prefer a more delicate roll, and cover their rising breads and rolls with cellophane wrap which prevents them from forming a crust.  A European style roll has a flakier crust that's a little bit al dente (resistant to the teeth), and is more rustic in quality.

You Can Taste the Love

This bench only looks lonely.  It isn't.  Sometimes when I drag myself around the walking trails at Meeks Park, I have to wait for this bench unless I want to sit with a stranger.  Don't get me wrong -- I'm not opposed to strangers because every friend I have used to be one.  But when you're out of breath and want to commune with nature -- a silent, lonely bench does the trick.

No lonely bench last Sunday, though.  BIG crowd at a picnic I attended in the park with my fellow Unitics from Unity Church of the Mountains.  I'm a caterer and I loved everything these beautiful people prepared and offered -- all was delightfully delish.  You really can taste the love, you know.  It's definitely why I'm still in business all these years, and other caterers have come and gone.  The clientele (pharmaceutical reps) say my food has a "certain something"