Okra Water Quotes

It was funny how we thought education to be the great gilded key which would solve all problems, eliminate all poverty and disease, eradicate differences between social classes, and bring the children of okra-planters up to par with the children of emperors.

This is why we do it all over again every year. Fueled only by the stuff they drink from the air and earth, the bush beans fill out their rows, the okra booms, the corn stretches eagerly toward the sky like a toddler reaching up to put on a shirt... We gardeners are right in the middle of this with our weeding and tying up, our mulching and watering, our trained eyes guarding against bugs, groundhogs, and weather damage. But to be honest, the plants are working harder, doing all the real production. We are management; they're labor.

with a sad smile she would recount the time our grandfather was so displeased with our grandmother’s okra stew that in a fit of temper he threw the pot out the window into the deep, fast-running waters of the Bosphorus.

Memorize this list of foods that you should eat liberally: 1.​All green vegetables, both raw and cooked, including frozen. If it is green, you get the green light. Don’t forget raw peas, snow pea pods, kohlrabi, okra, and frozen artichoke hearts. 2.​Non-green, non-starchy vegetables, including tomatoes, peppers, eggplant, mushrooms, onions, garlic, leeks, cauliflower, water chestnuts, hearts of palm, and roasted garlic cloves. 3.​Raw starchy vegetables, such as raw carrots, raw beets, jicama, radish, and parsnips. They are all great, shredded raw, in your salad. 4.​Beans/legumes, including split peas, lima beans, lentils, soybeans, black beans, and all red, white, and blue beans. Soak them overnight, then rinse and cook them, add them to salads and soups, make bean burgers, sprout them, and eat bean pasta. 5.​Low-sugar fruits, one or two with breakfast and about one more each meal. 6.​Try to have berries or pomegranate at least once a day. Frozen berries are the most cost effective.

Of course, I myself had ordered the barbecue and links and ribs from the guys at Pink Pig- ten pounds of just the smoky brisket itself- and, of course, nothing would do but for Mama to serve them on her silver-plated platters somebody had given her when she and Daddy got married. But every single other dish on that huge table was Mama's handiwork. There were the collards she'd mentioned, but also her red cabbage coleslaw, and barbecued pintos, and big bowls of okra and tomatoes, and corn pudding, and potato salad made with potatoes boiled in water spiced with Texas Pete, and baskets of jalapeño cornbread, and not only two pans of her rich banana pudding but also two sticky cherry cobblers. Must have been twenty different items on that buffet- enough to feed double the number of guests.

We began with two buttery sweet edamame and one sugar syrup-soaked shrimp in a crunchy soft shell. A lightly simmered baby octopus practically melted in our mouths, while a tiny cup of clear, lemony soup provided cooling refreshment. The soup held three slices of okra and several slippery cool strands of junsai (water shield), a luxury food that grows in ponds and marshes throughout Asia, Australia, West Africa, and North America. In the late spring the tiny plant develops leafy shoots surrounded by a gelatinous sheath that floats on the water's surface, enabling the Japanese to scoop it up by hand from small boats. The edamame, okra, and water shield represented items from the mountains, while the shrimp and octopus exemplified the ocean. I could tell John was intrigued and amused by this artistic (perhaps puny?) array of exotica. Two pearly pieces of sea bream, several fat triangles of tuna, and sweet shelled raw baby shrimp composed the sashimi course, which arrived on a pale turquoise dish about the size of a bread plate. It was the raw fish portion of the meal, similar to the mukozuke in a tea kaiseki. To counter the beefy richness of the tuna, we wrapped the triangles in pungent shiso leaves , then dunked them in soy. After the sashimi, the waitress brought out the mushimono (steamed dish). In a coal-black ceramic bowl sat an ivory potato dumpling suspended in a clear wiggly broth of dashi thickened with kudzu starch, freckled with glistening orange salmon roe. The steamed dumplings, reminiscent of a white peach, was all at once velvety, sweet, starchy, and feathery and had a center "pit" of ground chicken. The whole dish, served warm and with a little wooden spoon, embodied the young, tender softness of spring.

Nigga sound like a can of okra.

Claude’s Gumbo 2 sticks unsalted butter 2 cups all-purpose flour 2 red bell peppers, chopped medium fine 1 white onion, chopped medium fine 4 celery stalks, chopped medium fine 3 cups chopped okra 2 tablespoons good Creole seasoning 1 tablespoon freshly ground black pepper 1 tablespoon red pepper flakes 1 tablespoon chili powder 1 teaspoon dried thyme 2 to 3 tablespoons minced garlic 4 bay leaves 1 jalapeño, minced 1 to 3 serrano peppers, minced (optional; add if nuclear-level spiciness is desired) Salt 2 quarts chicken stock 11/2 pounds andouille sausage, cut into 1/4-inch-thick slices 6 to 10 ounces clam meat, with its liquid 31/2 pounds boneless skinless chicken thighs, pan-seared, browned, and cooked through 1 pound shrimp, shelled, deveined, and pan-seared Hot sauce White rice, cooked according to package directions In a large saucepan, melt the butter over low heat. Once the butter is melted, add about 1/2 cup of the flour, stirring vigorously for 1 minute to make a roux. Slowly add the remaining flour 1/2 cup at a time, stirring constantly to ensure a smooth consistency. Continue cooking for 25 to 35 minutes, until the roux is deep brown, adding more butter or flour if necessary to maintain the consistency. Once the roux is ready, add the bell peppers, onion, celery, okra, Creole seasoning, black pepper, red pepper flakes, chili powder, thyme, garlic, bay leaves, jalapeño, and serrano peppers, if using, and a generous pinch of salt. Stir till well combined. Begin adding the chicken stock 1 cup at a time, stirring well. When all the stock has been added, the sauce should thickly coat the back of a spoon but not be porridgelike. Add the andouille sausage, clams with liquid, and chicken. Stir thoroughly, reduce heat to low or medium-low on the smallest burner, and simmer at least 60 minutes, stirring periodically. Add water or additional chicken stock if the gumbo boils too low or starts sticking to the bottom of the pot. The gumbo should have the texture of a thick soup and pour easily from the spoon. About 10 minutes before serving, add the shrimp and stir well. Add hot sauce to taste and additional peppers (ground or fresh) if more spiciness is desired, and serve over rice. Eat when the spirit is raw and the eyes are overflowing, while listening to “Cry” by Johnnie Ray.

The fish on the rectangular plate are autumn ayu, salted and grilled. One of them is lightly smoked over wood chips from a mixture of cherry blossom and apple trees; the other--- with the roe--- is marinated in a yuzu-infused sauce. Feel free to garnish them with the finely chopped water-pepper leaves on the side. In the cut-glass bowl is some late-season hamo eel, in a tangy nanban-style marinade. You could sprinkle some kuro shichimi on there if you want to spice it up a little. Oh, and don't worry: All the fish is cooked right through! The Oribe bowl contains today's fried dishes: The breaded chunks of autumn eggplant and Omi beef are best paired with the miso sauce, while these two--- surf clam and vegetable tempura, and fried kuruma prawn fish balls--- will go nicely with the matcha salt. And the Karatsu cup is filled with a mixture of miniature taro, baby matsutake mushroom, red konnyaku jelly, and okra.