Some years back I was cooking for the good folks in Foley, Alabama. Every year they put on a festival called Heritage Harbour Days, and let me tell you they do it up right! There are close to 25,000 folks that come dfiting through there over three days.
I set my ole wagon up on one end of that pretty little park and host Dutch oven clincis all day, with a little BS to boot (I don’t even charge for the BS). The highlight of the day is always when it comes time for the peach cobbler demo. These good folks will wait in line for a Dutch oven cobbler until the last drop is dished out. You have to swat them with a spoon like an ole hound dog to get them to quit licking the pot!
On this particular day, there were about 250 folks gathered around the wagon as I commenced my little cobbler lesson I started by telling folks to add two cups flour, two cups sugar, a dash of cinnamon and then four teaspoons of baking powder and a pinch of salt. I like to use big words and impress people once in awhile so I told them good folks, ” Let’s incorporate this mixture together until well blended.” Now don’t that sound fancy and proper instead of just saying stir this all up?! I went on, “When the dry mixture is mixed well let’s add two cups of milk.”
And that’s when it happened.
Every place I have ever been I always seem to draw a wierdo! You know, that one odd kind that just wants to voice their opinion to let me know they’re a better cook than I am, and that my recipe is not as good as theirs. Well, the particular idiot this day came from the back and split the crowd in a hurry… like Moses parting the Red Sea!
She was a spindly young women. She was a little disheveled looking- her hair a little matted, wearing clothes that looked like she sewed them herself in the dark and she was covered in pins with various quotes on them like: Save the Snapping Turtles or I wear recycled shoes. Don’t be alarmed folks, but I thought she might be a vegetarian and no that isn’t a mispelling, I didn’t aim to say veterinarian!
I’m not trying to offend anyone, I just wasn’t ready for some speech about how my food was bad her and her causes. But agaimst my better wishes she commenced to tell me, “Do you know we are the only species to continue to drink milk after we have been weaned?” What?!
Now to say the least, this took me by surprise and I had to think about that for a minute for an intelligent answer. The crowd was also eagerly awaiting my response. I couldn’t dissapoint them so after about a thirty second brain freeze all I could muster up was, “Who gives a ****?” That got her attention.
“You should use soy milk,”
“Soy?” I replied , “I ain’t never heard of such, but if it will help you out ma’am, you run a soy cow by here and I will sure pull a tit on her!” She didn’t like that, but everyone else in the crowd thought it was funny.
Now I know my response might have been a ittle inappropritae, and I tried to apoligize to her later but to no avail. But my gosh, just how do you get a cow to give soy milk? Do you feed her only soy beans.? Does that mean if I started feeding my cows cocoa in their hay they would give chocolate milk?
I am still confused, and somewhat bumfuzzeled, if you know what I mean. To this day, I’m still looking for that soy herd. I bet they’re in a field somewhere drinking soy lattes, driving around in VW buses and eating Chik-Fil-A.