At the whistle stop
Heavens, it’s cold. I suppose this snap is good practise for my trip to a brittle Europe at the end of this year but what is this, Minsk?
My fingers and toes froze in their boots on the way home tonight—winter ain’t good news for a girl with poor circulation and clothing riddled with holes. Yet, I was warmed this evening past with a rice pudding that my mum cooked for us. It tasted a little bit like bread and butter pudding (which Mum also tackles with aplomb) and oh, it delighted me so that I peeked at the recipe this morning and noticed something about the recipe book.
The book is called Fannie Flagg’s Original Whistle Stop Cafe Cookbook. Now Fannie Flagg’s Original Whistle Stop Cafe Cookbook features recipes from Fried Green Tomatoes at the Whistle Stop Cafe, which Flagg wrote a screenplay for, which became the movie Fried Green Tomatoes. As you may understand, I now have to see Fried Green Tomatoes, which looks somewhat like a middle-aged version of Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants.
From reading the preface to Fannie Flagg’s I’ve learned that the Whistle Stop Cafe is actually real, except it’s called The Irondale Cafe in Alabama and it was opened in the thirties by her great aunt Bess who ran it for fifty years. As if that wasn’t apple pie enough, check out her site. If that homepage didn’t convince you she’s homegrown, the author photo sure will.
Jokes aside, this cookbook is kind of great. It’s full of phrases like ‘drippings’, ‘Uncle Buddy’ and ‘pot pie’ and there are these old black and white photographs of Alabama printed throughout. Being the convivial lass that she is, Fannie begins most of the recipes with helpful advice like:
Roast Possum
For Yankees or anyone else who cannot locate possum, substitute pork.
Or this ripper:
Lemon sauce
This just makes everything better! Except rutabaga*.
Fannie even gets a little cheeky:
Bread pudding
You may use raisins if you wish but be sure to soak them in bourbon overnight…better yet, throw the raisins away and drink the bourbon.
Ha! Oh, Fannie—you kill me!
Although, after an evening of hot chips with tomato sauce and vinegar, several toffees and TimTams and a $3.99 vino, getting into a home-cooking habit probably wouldn’t be the worst thing.
* A yellow turnip—also called a swede to the detriment of Sweden, as the rutabaga developed a bad rep as the ‘last resort’ food during World War I. Allegedly the bastard spawn of a cabbage and a turnip.