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McMurry students quit studying history, began
eating it
By Bill Whitaker
If nothing else, McMurry University's Don Frazier has given
his students a true taste of Texas history this year.
And judging from the minor feast students enjoyed to close
out the semester this week, Tums might have been in order.
I mean, one student proudly referred to his family's chili
recipe as "hot enough to do permanent damage."
"Food is really a reflection of our culture," Dr.
Frazier said during a classroom exercise whereby students served
up recipes from family archives. "I had assigned them this
book to read, Eats, about the cultural significance of the food
we eat.
"Then I thought, 'Gosh, everyone coming into this classroom
brings a cultural background with them, why don't I have them
do something that reflects the cultural diversity that we have.'
"Plus," he admitted, "I was despairing of grading
research papers."
So it was down the hatch this week. While the history prof's
students earlier in the semester prepared recipes they'd only
read about in history books (such as vinegar pie), Monday they
prepared dishes from recipes in their own families, sometimes
going back several generations.
Who would guess history could be so perilous?
CHITLINS, ANYONE?
Quincy Jones, 23, of San Antonio, prepared a bread pudding
making special use of heels from loaves of bread. Although the
recipe would be the same no matter what hunk of bread you used,
Quincy's great-grandmother routinely used heels to prevent family
disturbances at the dinner table.
"Everyone would argue over who was going to eat the ends
of the bread," Quincy said, "so she'd do this just to
keep everybody from fighting."
Students needed little convincing about eating bread pudding
-- heels or not. Chitlins, though, were another matter.
"This is my first time to fix chitlins," 21-year-old
Hiawatha Hickman told me during the feed. "But as long as
I remember, we always had chitlins on New Year's Day. My grandma
said that was all that was left from the hogs during slavery times.
Anyway, we ate it with black-eyed peas and cabbage."
Dr. Frazier admitted some recipes pretty much discouraged anyone
from trying them.
"Someone suggested prickly pear stew," he recalled.
"Step One was burn the spines off the prickly pads. You know,
there are some things that just send up a red flag, like when
the directions call for washing eight pounds of tripe."
Another recipe proposed (but not approved) indicated how homogenous
our culture is becoming. One student, searching his mind for a
recipe that was popular in his own family, suggested (and in all
sincerity) "Rice Crispys marshmallow treats."
Dr. Frazier's reaction: "I asked him if his last name
was Kellogg."
Quincy told me his fellow student was quite upset, too, when
informed Rice Crispys treats wouldn't quite cut it as a bona fide
"family recipe."
MOCK DUCK, ANYBODY?
Some of the recipes submitted the other day intrigued me, including
that from 37-year-old Dyess Tech. Sgt. Mike Akin, who originally
hails from Lancaster County, Penn. While he didn't actually prepare
a sample of the recipe, he did say "mock duck" was a
longtime favorite in his family.
Basically, you mash together bread, onions, an egg, milk, pepper,
A-1 Steak Sauce, roll it into balls, stick them in the oven for
an hour or so till crunchy, let them cool, then take hamburger
meat mixed with ketchup, onions, bay seasoning, more steak sauce,
and drape the pattys over the ball.
Then you cook them in the oven for another hour or so and consume.
I asked Mike why his kinfolks called it "mock duck."
"I guess they were wishing it was duck instead of hamburger,"
he said. "But it's simple, it tastes good and it's relatively
filling -- and it's cheap."
Definitely this week's culinary lesson was a feast to remember,
though most students had to rush off to other classes so I never
got to determine if the food in their stomachs had bloating effects.
At least no one passed out during the lunch hour.
T.J. Lau said that possibility would have loomed, though, had
she prepared her grandmother's famous fruitcake, enlivened by
intoxicating spirits frowned upon in certain quarters of the Methodist
hierarchy. Seems her grandma added strong liquor regularly while
making the holiday concoctions.
"Now, the Thanksgiving fruitcake, we kids could have some
of that," she said. "But the Christmas fruitcake --
well, that was for adults only!"
Bill Whitaker, who found what he guesses was a bay leaf in
his Irish stew but didn't want to cause a social stink by asking
about it, can be reached at 676-6732. And you can e-mail Bill
at WTWARN@aol.com.
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1997, Abilene Reporter-News / Texnews / E.W. Scripps. Publications
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