One's Kitchen is his Kingdom.

 

Source + recipes

In the backwaters of Louisiana, the place to eat was at  Kalper's Kitchen, where unique and delicious fare could be found. Good food was prepared by the man, Kalper himself.  He was always the force blowing full bore around his kitchen, letting no one and nothing get in his way.

Not an easy person to approach, his manic brilliance gave new definitions to Southern fried catfish and smoked ribs.  AND all who knew Kalper also understood to stay out of Kalper's kitchen during these hours of inspired creation.

Sadly, a short new sous chef, Whittier, was ignorant, and stumbled into the kitchen whereupon Kalper promptly skewered Whittier with his newest blade, a nine-inch Miyabi Birchwood.

A squelched scream gurgled. Hearing the thud,  Kalper's three brothers,rushed in to grab Whittier by his Nike sneakers, and drag him to the freezer. 

One muttered, “Damn! That’s the fourth one this month."

They tossed Whittier onto the heap of Alvin, Sanders, and Simon. “Damn shame.”

The italicized underline letters are from Wednesday Words. This collection is from River, Drifting through Life, posted back in 2015. We had some excellent BBQ two days ago, and this came up in my brain.  

           

Fine Eatin'

Source + recipes

In the backwaters of Louisiana, the place to eat was at Kalper's Kitchen, where unique and delicious fare could be found. Food was prepared by the man, Kalper himself.  He was always the force blowing full bore around his kitchen, letting no one and nothing get in his way. No one ever knew his secret recipe for award winning shredded beef and smoked ribs.

Not an easy person to approach, his manic brilliance gave new definitions to Southern fried catfish and smoked ribs.  AND all who knew Kalper also understood to stay out of Kalper's kitchen during these hours of inspired creation.

After other sous chefs--Alvin, Sanders, and Simon--got fed up and left, a short new sous chef, Whittier, joined the staff. Whittier was missing some brain cells, and stumbled into the kitchen whereupon Kalper promptly skewered Whittier with his newest blade, a nine-inch Miyabi Birchwood.

A squelched scream gurgled. Hearing the thud,  Kalper's three brothers rushed in to grab Whittier by his sneakers, and drag him to the freezer. 

One muttered, “Damn! That’s the third one this month. Damn shame.""

They tossed Whittier onto the heap of Alvin, Sanders, and Simon. Soon they would finally be allowed in Kalver's Kitchen.


Wednesday Words was started by Delores, who closed her site.  Elephant's Child and at River along with other bloggers are providing pithy challenging words.These words were from 2015.

I took these words and using a dark humor hidden in my brain, put this into a new and unusual short story.

Great fun. 

                

Wed.Words: Dysart, Louisiana

southeast Louisiana

When forecasters warned that Hurricane Banning would be making landfall in just a few hours that morning, parishioners of St. Mark Catholic Church dropped everything and sprinted to the Church.  All recognized how fragile the old church was.

Even the normally dysfunctional people drinking at Lucy’s Bar and Grill loped over, with fry-cook Big Chris moving with rare alacrity. 

The Baxter family unloaded sheets of plywood, planks, and boxes of nails as the community arrived.  Without speaking, it was understood that the multi-paned, mullioned window overlooking the altar was primary to protect.
 

source: rgbstock/greekgod

The colored glass, brought to the Parish from France in 1781, was invaluable, a true treasure to the people of Dysart, Louisiana. Even with the church boarded up, still none knew if it was enough.

Hours later, when the wind had carried the storm away, parishioners hurried to see St. Mark’s.  Viewing the structure even from a distance, all gave thanks, even Big Chris. 

Seeing the Altar and precious window intact, it did not matter that much of St. Mark’s lay in ruins.

Every Wednesday, River posts 6 to 12 words to be used by any blogger who wish to enjoy a break from the serious stuff.  Use these words to write fiction, prose, poetry, flash fiction, etc.  Either post it on your own site and link it back to River's delightful gentle stream, or make your addition to her blog site comment section.

The bold words above are this week's words.  Hope you enjoyed how they were used.

Also, many thanks to Delores at Under the Porch Light who started this writing stir up, and to Elephant's Child who took up the slack when Delores' computer went all wonky.

Go on, with it!  Fling yourself out into the unknown!

The Letter G, y'all

The Letter G, glorious G

If you are from the South, or live near the South, or emigrated from the South, or wish you lived in the South, then this word will have you nodding,"Yes.  Yes, of course."

"G" is for Grits.

Source: Eat Live Run

I did not enter the delicious world of grits until I was an adult.  My parents knew all about grits, had been eating them for years, but somehow they never put them on the table.


It was shortly after having an abscess in the lower back molar with a major bad root canal, that I discovered grits. After such a massively painful event, the only foods I could eat had the texture of baby food.  Mashed potatoes were acceptable.

That was when my mother fixed me some grits.  She put a sizable glop of real butter on it, poured a bit cream, and a swirl of maple syrup.  Grits, glorious grits!**

If you live in Louisiana, please go there and write about it.

**Some Southerners may prefer their grits with bacon and eggs, but I like the sweet better.  This is from Bite and Booze, Jay D. Ducote.  

For any readers who have experienced similar dental experiences, I offer my sympathy.  If I were at your house, I would mix up some grits for us both.

Grits can be purchased at any reputable grocery store, next to the oatmeal.  Better quality  grits can be found in a "Sprouts" or natural food store.

Y-Z Posts: Yodeling and Zydeco, part 2

Source: duchessa

I like to think that I have an eclectic taste in music, that I am broad-minded.  Hey, I was in college during the 1960s and 70s, man.  But that is so not true. 

My music education pretty much ended in the early 1980s.  Somehow I cannot get beyond Zanadu Xanadu with Olivia Newton John.  Was it the trauma or was it Boy George?

I don’t know, but the last 15 years or more are scarcely dotted with memorable music, except for Whitney Houston and anything Irish music related (of course).

In recent years, I was exposed to something called “Zydeco”.  And I haven’t been the same. 

Can’t help it, my feet want to dance.  I feel the beat and the words—and this is from a person who struggles to clap and sing at the same time.  Maybe I was born down in Louisiana, stolen by pirates and brought up-river to where my folks were buying catfish from a guy down on the levee off the ‘Ssippi. 

What IS it?  It is like gumbo, with every nation tossing a bit of its culture into the pot, adding lots of spice.  And I like it.

Just listen, see what you think.

And that concludes this year's A to Z 2013 Challenge, on a high-note with Yodeling and a dance with Zydeco!  Now, take it away......