Summer's slippery one

I was in my early twenties and visiting Austin, Texas for the first. I fell immediately in love with the “keep it weird” city – perhaps it was the Drag Queen Scavenger Race down 6^th Street or the Shiner Boch I was sipping as I watched spiked heeled racers hobble by that led me to believe I had fallen down the rabbit hole.  Houston wasn’t this arousing.

I was there for work, and since it was the end of the workweek I decided to stay for an extra day. I got out to Lake Hippie Hollow where my lack of appropriate bathing attire turned not a single head. Rhythmically I bounced along to the sounds at the Continental Congress. I even bought a pair of snake-skinned-cockroach-killing cowboy boots. I was taking it all in. So, it made prefect sense that I would make self available the local foods – chicken fried steak with thick white gravy; bar-b-que, I mean bar-bque; and a known by alien food – okra.

Now, I was born in the Deep South, which I always said gave me right to, y’all. However, I did not make it a full year before my parents decided to repatriate to the north. It was not a food my mother brought back as part of her cooking arsenal so all I really knew about it was it was fried – like zucchini just minus the lemon and parmesan. I was game but this version was not fried rather pickled. I love pickled cucumbers, green tomatoes, onions and the like so I figured why not – because upon first bite a viscous slim filled my mouth and refused to be washed away by bottle after bottle of Shiner Boch. How could this be? This iconic vegetable was that terrible.

It would be years before I dared that bite again. And, I could never imagine that I would grow a couple

of varieties in my garden that have become summer favorites, cook it in various fashions and freeze fresh cut okra for winter consumption. I have learned to avoid them if they are longer then about 2-inches in length, and acid (lemon, vinegar, tomato) are the best ways to mitigate that overwhelming reaction of YUCK. I have even taken to pickling my own though only small ones make into my jar which become the prefect garnish to a Bloody Mary.

Pickled Okra

2-pounds orka

1/3-cup coarse pickling salt

2-tablespoons smoked Spanish paparika

1-teaspoon whole black pepercorns

4-cups white distilled vinegar

Use orka that is no longer than about 2-inches in length – these will be less slimy. Wash the orka well under cold water.

Sterlize a 4-quart glass jar.

In a 2-quart saucepan bring 4-cups of water to the boil along with the salt, and boil for about 4 to 5 mintues.

Into the jar place the okra, paparika, black peppercorns nad the vinegar. Once the water/salt has boiled pour it over the okra. Fit the jar with a secure lid, and refrigerate for a minimum of 4 weeks. 

Dealing with a period of change

The weather is still shorts and t-shirts but there is a definite transition in the air. After a couple days of rains, winds and clouds the returning clear sky is not longer sending down waves of scorching light. And, to my chagrin the mornings are suggesting a light jacket. Yes, this is that point of transition for surf-n-turf weekend getaways to in town get-togethers with folks we’ve not seen since last spring. My kitchen is showing signs of this shift. Dill, cilantro and thyme are returning to pre-sweltering abundance and the last of my tomato plants are putting out flowers with very little likielhood of there ever being a fruit to harvest. But as I wait for the day I will need to pull a sweater over my head beets, lettuces and cauliflower let me know they will be there on that day as well.

Surprisingly to me there is one summer plant that continues to put out fruit continuously, and that is okra. Starting in early summer this African native has lite up the garden with awash of yellow flowers that quickly matures into the elongated vegetable that has divided eaters into love them or hate them camps. I remember the first time to ate okra I was visiting Austin, Texas and was served pickled okra. It was vile to me, and its only redeeming quality was the jalapeno that spiked the mushy slime I had to endure in order not to be viewed as an arrogant northern. It took me years before I convinced myself to have another go at it. In the farmer’s market were beautiful, petite samples and the farmer assured me, the smaller they were the less goopy they would be. And, they were right.

I now know how to deal with the mucilaginous interior – acid. The meeting of okra and tomato upon arrival in the New World  a match made in culinary heaven was created. Though it is not just tomatoes I use: lemons, vinegar, and pureed peppers help neutralize its polarizing viscous nature.

Roasted Garlicky Okra – yields 4 servings

2-1/2 pounds okra

6-garlic cloves

1/4-cup olive oil

Salt and freshly ground pepper to taste

¼-cup fresh lemon juice

Pre-heat the oven to 450-degrees.

Trim the stems from the okra and discard. Slice the okra on an angle about ¼-inch thick.

Carefully peel the garlic without crashing it. Then slice the garlic cloves as thin as possible – they cannot be too thin.

Place the okra, garlic, olive oil, salt and pepper into 10-inch cast iron skillet. Place in the oven and cook for 15 minutes, and then remove and toss the okra. Return to the oven and cook another 20 to 25 minutes. Remove from the oven and immediately mix in the lemon juice. Serve warm.