Stewed Okra

Good morning.

Have you ever eaten stewed okra?  And if you have, how did you like it?  Well, I can tell you I tried, and I emphasize tried, to eat some just once and it did not go well.

When we lived next to Mawdie, my grandmother, sometimes my dad would take preaching jobs on Sunday.  Most of the times, those preaching jobs were a pretty good ways from home; and since some of my friends attended Maple Hill Church of Christ, I asked if I could stay with Mawdie and go to Maple Hill on the Sundays that Dad preached.  We had some really sweet neighbors, Roy and Bertie, who lived down the road from us who also attended Maple Hill and they said I could ride to church with them.

sc01225b76_2So, one Sunday, I got all dressed for church and waited for Roy and Bertie to stop by and pick me up.  Mawdie chose not to go with us that particular Sunday and said she would have dinner ready when I got home from church.  Let me add here that dinner was lunch at our house. Anyway, they stopped by and we went on our merry way to church; and as always, it was a great service.

I got back to Mawdie’s and sure enough, she had a good hot meal all ready for us to eat.  She had made chicken and dumplin’s, cornbread, sliced  tomatoes and stewed okra.  I had never eaten that slimy stuff and swore I never would. But, Mawdie asked me to just try it and if I didn’t like it, I wouldn’t have to eat any more.  Since Mawdie was such a sweetie and she asked so nicely, I decided that I would try it just for her.  I mean, how bad could it be?

I got some okra on my fork and put it in my mouth.  OMG, that was the most awful stuff I had ever put in my mouth but I tried to chew it up and swallow it.  I tried and tried to swallow it, but my throat completely closed and I had to choice but to spit it back out.  The whole time I was trying to eat it, Mawdie was sitting there watching my face to see how I would react.  I bet she was secretly laughing at my reaction, but she just smiled and said that I didn’t have to eat it.

I do love fried okra, pickled okra and okra in my soup, but I just cannot take the stewed okra.  And you know, there was a very slim chance that I might have liked it, but I would have never known if I hadn’t tried it.

Mawdie was a wonderful grandmother and I would have done anything for her, even try to eat slimy okra.

See ya next Wednesday.