My Trip to Gainesville, Part 3
Friday, March 9, 2012 at 10:20PM CROSS CREEK
Cross Creek was home to Pulitzer Prize winning author Marjorie Kinnan Rawlings for 25 years, from 1928 until her death in 1953. It’s an enchanting little hamlet you could easily picture in your head; a picturesque place with a babbling brook and quaint bridge that spans it. There’s none of the clutter you’d expect from a large town — no traffic lights, no horns blaring, and nothing to hear other than the faint sounds of birds cheerfully chirping in nearby trees. Yes, that would be a very good description. It’s a secluded community that epitomizes Old Florida. This year, though, there’s no babble in the brook that separates Orange Lake from Little Lochloosa Lake. A dry winter is to blame. Not long ago, down at th’ crick, you could catch a cooter wit a cane pole.
Of her adopted town, Rawlings often wrote of the harmony between the wind and rain, the sun and seasons, the seeds and, above all else, time. Once you enter Cross Creek, you become a part of its mystique. There’s a feeling of calm that fills the heart and you’re beckoned back to an era of bygone years, listening to Bing Crosby on an RCA Gramophone instead of Kanye West on an iPod; when the country doctor still made house calls and he’d gladly take a freshly baked pecan pie as payment. Those were the days…
Most of Rawlings’ work centered around rural central and north Florida, including Cross Creek, and in 1938, she found immense success with The Yearling, the story of a boy, his pet deer and his relationship with his father. Until it was published, most literary critics considered her to be a regional writer, but she disagreed. There’s more to writing than that. “Don’t make a novel about them unless they have a larger meaning than just quaintness.”
Rawlings grew up in the Brookland section of Washington, DC, and attended the University of Wisconsin, but years of living in Cross Creek transformed her. She felt a profound connection to the area and the land. While the locals were wary at first, they soon warmed up and told stories of their own experiences, which she diligently wrote down in notebook after notebook, along with descriptions of plants and animals, recipes, and examples of southern dialects.
The following 2 pictures are of Rawling’s house.
While doing research for The Yearling, Rawlings went into nearby scrub forests and spent several weeks with a Florida Cracker, hunting, fishing, and going on a couple of bear hunts. She convinced him that she was interested in the old customs, which was the truth. Trust me, you will never win over a Cracker by lying, and you cannot be a cracker unless you was born in the state. Crackers either accept you or they don’t and there ain’t no in between.
According to Elizabeth Silverthorne, who wrote Rawlings’ biography Sojourner at Cross Creek, Rawlings received the acceptance of her neighbors because she learned quickly about their system of morals and values. For instance, neighbors helped pick pecans from her trees in exchange for enough of the crop to last them through the winter. She became interweaved with local folks.
In every small town, you’ll find neighbors who gaze out front windows through cracks in the curtains to see what others in the community are doing. Cross Creek was no different during Rawlings’ time. Interestingly, she based a lot of her fictional characters on people who lived in the town and surrounding areas, and because of it, resentments arose, despite the fact that she never once used anyone’s full name.
Zelma Cason was, at one time, a very close friend of the author’s and her first in Cross Creek. She was, that is, until she felt the sting of Rawlings’ pen in a portrayal of her in the book Cross Creek:
“Zelma is an ageless spinster resembling an angry and efficient canary. She manages her orange grove and as much of the village a county as needs management or will submit to it. I cannot decide whether she should have been a man or a mother. She combines the more violent characteristics of both and those who ask for or accept her ministrations think nothing at being cursed loudly at the very instant of being tenderly fed, clothed, nursed, or guided through their troubles.”
Cason took offense, so in 1943 she sued Rawlings for $100,000 for invasion of privacy. The trial became a spectacle as the struggle between the right of privacy and free speech ensued in open court, with Cason arguing that Rawlings did not have the right to publish a description of her without permission, and Rawlings countering with free speech. Interestingly, no Florida court had ever heard an invasion of privacy case prior to this one, and laws on libel were too ambiguous in those days. (Florida started its tradition of openness back in 1909 with the passage of Chapter 119 of the Florida Statutes or the Public Records Law.)
Cason’s attorney, Kate Walton, was one of the first females to represent a client during a time when women weren’t allowed to serve on juries in the state. Sigsby Scruggs was a well-known, crafty, cracker attorney hired by Rawlings, along with Jacksonville attorney Philip May. As much as we watched the Casey Anthony trial unfold during the course of three years, the world’s eyes were on the little Florida town of Cross Creek while WWII raged on. Rawlings’ husband at the time and until her death was Norton Baskin. “I haven’t seen people around here so stirred up about anything since that two-headed calf was born over to Island Grove,” he said. [1]
From The St. Augustine Record, Monday, April 19, 2010:
The trial, held in Gainesville, drew state reporters and noisy crowds. The original trial and the appeals that followed took several years.
In the end it was a “bloody stalemate,” writes Townsend. [Billy Townsend’s great-aunt is the late Kate Walton.]
The jury in Alachua County stood by Rawlings and “laughed Zelma and Aunt Katie and J.V. out of court. It took them 28 minutes to find for Marjorie.”
But in 1947 the Florida Supreme Court overturned the verdict. It “both established the right of privacy exists in Florida and proved that Marjorie invaded Zelma’s privacy in ‘Cross Creek,’” he writes.
But the court limited damages to $1 plus attorney fees. Zelma had been “wronged, but not harmed.”
Cason couldn’t prove she’d suffered mental anguish or that Rawlings acted with malice. Rawlings failed to convince the judges that they were harming an author’s ability to write.
“They both thought they had lost,” Townsend said.
Before they died, Cason and Rawlings became friends of sorts once again.
Cason claimed that the lawyers made her do it. Townsend thinks Cason came to Kate Walton to start the suit rather than lawyers approaching her. But, now, all the people who knew for sure are gone.
As we looked over part of Rawlings’ property, Nika1 informed me that she was supposed to be buried in a different cemetery when she died, but in a twist of irony, there was a mix up and she ended up in the same cemetery as her one-time friend, Zelma, who had bought plots there earlier. When Cason died in 1963, she was buried 50 feet away from Rawlings. Quite literally, they followed each other to their graves.
It was now after 5:00 pm in Cross Creek, and as the lesson in history wound down and the sun edged closer to the horizon, Nika1 and I realized it was time to eat, and reservations had already been made at The Yearling Restaurant, a stone’s throw from Rawlings’ house. From the outside, the restaurant isn’t anything fancy to look at. As a matter of fact, there’s nothing at all pretentious about it. Looking at it from the front, it doesn’t look very big, either, but once you get inside, it’s almost cavernous. Our host led us to a good-sized back room where, later, two musicians sang and played their instruments. Our waitress for the evening was a delightful young lady named Leslie. You haven’t lived until you’ve eaten fried green tomatoes, and there are none finer than what we were served. For entrees, Nika1 ordered fried fish and I got fried gator tail. Yes, you heard that right. I had eaten it before, but none was as tender as this go around.
When you’re inside the restaurant, it’s really a cozy, homey kind of place. It’s precisely what you’d expect in Cross Creek — comfort food, and I must say, the sour orange pie for dessert was fantastic!
While we sat waiting for our food, we talked about the area; not just Cross Creek, but also about Alachua County, including where Nika1 resides. It’s amazing how many people know each other even when they live 20 miles apart. It’s a close-knit community, so when she told me the story about the history of the restaurant and one of the area’s most colorful gentlemen, I found myself captivated by what she was saying. One of her close neighbors was characterized in The Yearling. In the book, he was the crippled boy. In real life, his name is J.T. Glisson, but once you know him, his name is Jake. When the original owners opened the restaurant in 1952, they commissioned Jake to paint a picture of a yearling — one that could have been the one portrayed in the book. He did, and there it hung for 40 years. The original owners closed the restaurant in 1992 and it reopened in 2002 under new ownership. When it closed in 1992, Jake asked if he could get his painting back. The owner honored his request, and today, it proudly hangs in Nika1’s house.
Jake is in his 80s now, but he’s not just a painter, he’s an author; a writer of books. I think there’s something in the air up there in Alachua County. I sense it’s where a lot of creative juices flow, and they once babbled through Cross Creek. The world is a wonderful place, and the legacy of Marjorie Kinnan Rawlings lives on. Why? Because she didn’t just write The Yearling, she lived it…
“Enchantment lies in different things for each of us. For me, it is in this: to step out of the bright sunlight into the shade of orange trees; to walk under the arched canopy of their jade like leaves; to see the long aisles of lichened trunks stretch ahead in a geometric rhythm; to feel the mystery of a seclusion that yet has shafts of light striking through it. This is the essence of an ancient and secret magic.”
— Marjorie Kinnan Rawlings
(See: The Yearling, a 1946 movie starring Gergory Peck and Jane Wyman)
Next: My Trip to Gainesville, Part 4 — Micanopy, the oldest inland town in Florida.
Dave Knechel | tagged Billy Townsend, Cross Creek, Elizabeth Silverthorne, Florida Cracker, J.T. Glisson, Jake Glisson, Kate Walton, Marjorie Kinnan Rawlings, Sigsby Scruggs, The Yearling, The Yearling Restaurant, Zelma Cason | in Dave Knechel, David B. Knechel, David Knechel, Florida’s Government in the Sunshine, Human Interest, Marinade Dave, Marinade Dave Knechel, Nika1, marinadedave | Share Article | 1 Reference 
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Reader Comments (60)
Thankyou so very much, Dave , for these wonderful stories !!!!!!!! I have really enjoyed all three of your Gainesville blogs, I sure would love to be able to visit there, myself.....I remember , so many years ago, my Mother took me to see the Yearling, when it was first released to the theatres.....and i remember how heartbroken I was, at the ending of the story....thanks again !!!!!!!!!!!!!
Thank YOU, Marie, for enjoying my Gainesville stories. I've got one more up my sleeve. Nika1 took me through Micanopy and I took some photos there, too. I forgot to mention Part 4 on this post, so I added it after your comment was published. You reminded me!
I sure am grateful that you've had a wonderful time reading these posts. It is precisely what I intended to do. Your comment really warmed my heart.
Great article Dave - All this area is truly Cracker country. Most people in the area either know or have heard of our neighbors in the areas of Cross Creek, Island Grove, Micanopy, etc. We certainly have plenty of the unusual to keep the gossip and talk going. Rawlings was quite the character and could out cuss any of the old fishermen of Cross Creek and Orange Lake. I would have love to see her trial. It was certainly a circus atmosphere. If Rawlings didn't like what was going on she didn't mind telling off the judge or anybody else in her way. It certainly made great discussions at our old post office.
Speaking of the post office discussions they still go on today. Just arrive there around 8-10 and everyone is either on the porch or inside by the stove pipe. This is how the farmers - ranchers start their day and half the time enjoying it so much they forget their mail .LOL
Most definitely, Nika1, this is Cracker country! Rawlings had to have made quite an impact in Alachua in her day, but from my impression, everyone up yonder leads a colorful life. I had read that she had a salty mouth and could cuss with the best of them. I don't think that hurt her one bit. Not that everyone swears like that, but it was probably a great equalizer.
I think it's great that discussions still go on at the post office. I can just picture it, too, all settin' around a spell at the stove pipe. I did want to put one of the pictures up, but the lighting was bad. The sun was setting behind it and it really dulled the image. Next time! Thanks for adding more to the story, and thank you again for your hospitality.
I LOVE reading about Ms. Rawlings, you and Naka1! Hope u will continue writing. (a BOOK!)
Hi to Naka1! She's a sweetheart!
Thanks, Mary B. I promise you that I will continue to write!
Dave, that is quite the article about Cross Creek and The Yearling. I find the pictures take on an atmosphere of morbidity, almost spooky and something you would see in a horror movie. Is this due to the time of year you took the pictures or a drought? I am not a history buff, in fact I bombed out on history when I aced in practically every other subject in school so I cannot really connect with this story.
I did find the court case interesting. I think old Zelma needed to get a little loving and not work so hard in her orange grove. Maybe that would have softened her up. Thank goodness her weapon of choice was her sharp tongue and not a load of buck shot in Rawling's rear. $100,000 was a small fortune back then. Back in those days, I expect libel and defamation suits could get pretty heated in a court of law. I am pleased to find out that women were beginning to join the fray and make their debut in the legal system. I guess Rawling's fictional characters hit too close to home for Zelma but I am glad Rawlings only had to fork over a buck. So it seems that the two women eventually kissed and made up. I wonder if they hissed back and forth at each other once they were both six feet under and 50 feet apart.
Now you know why I did not major in history and literature came in a close second. How gross, pan fried gator tail and sour orange pie? The way to your heart, Dave, cannot be through your stomach or maybe it is.
On a serious note, your writing was very descriptive and all in all it is a great write up. You should be commended for putting so much effort and time into this article. Although I am not a spinster, Zelma reminds me a lot like myself. LOL
Hi, Snoopy - The drought hasn't helped, and the foliage hasn't "sprung" to life yet, so things aren't as green as they will be in a couple of weeks. Plus, there was Spanish moss hanging all over everything. That's what gave the trees a spooky look.
I don't think the two women ever kissed and made up. Legend has it that they went to their graves as mortal enemies, or so I heard. They may have publicly saved face, but it was only skin deep, but hey! Even a dollar back then was a lot more than it's worth today.
The gator was deep fried. That's the way it's done down in these here neck of the woods. Everything is deep fried, 'cept boiled collard greens. Heck, even peanuts are boiled. That sour orange pie was not what you think. I ordered key lime and Nika1 got that one. I took a bite of hers and it was DEEEE-licious!
I never gave it a thought about you and Zelma. Hmm, you may be onto something., Thanks, I did put a lot of work into this one.
Dave, each part of your story gets better and better. Quite an experience for you to be able to see all of this and I thank you for sharing it with us. Your pictures are very good. Your writing makes me feel like I am right there with you. The picture that is now hanging in Nika1's house is very nice. I look forward to reading more about your trip to Gainesville.
Dave~ ~ I am curious by nature. I read that the town folks in Cross Creek all stand around a stove pipe. Is there a stove attached to it? I guess this place serves as a post office.
Dave~~one other question.... Is Cross Creek just a tourist attraction now or do people still live in the past as it is their choice? What is the population of Cross Creek, then and now? Do most of them raise food from the land to market and raise beef for sale?
I do admire Rawlings for fishing, hunting and even killing bear to get a story. Geez, Dave, it makes you look kind of spoiled when you made your trips out to Suburban with your Sony and then mingling with all the bigwigs at the courthouse to bring us a story or a summary of the day's events. I don't think you could wrestle bare or wrestle a bear? No need to answer that one.
I am glad you explained the Spanish moss. That is eerie looking stuff. It is probably very pretty in those parts when everything is lush and green.
I noticed upthread that in error I called Zelma, Zeldlma... LOL oops
Thanks, Mary Jo. I wasn't sure if this one was too long or not, but there was a lot to write about Cross Creek and MKR. The camera I use is quite good. The raw images are over 65 inches wide, so in Photoshop, I have to cut them down in scale or they'd take a long time to upload and view. Yes, the yearling painting is quite nice. I would be proud to hang it in my house, too. There's just one more installment before I mooooove on to another pasture. I wonder where I'll go next...
Snoopy - I didn't see a post office in Cross Creek. Nika1 lives a town or two over yonder, about as far as a sow can run in an hour. That there spot has a post office with a stove. I got me a picture of it, but it didn't turn out the way I liked it.
People actually live in Cross Creek. I didn't see any real tourists, but I know they come. The restaurant seemed to be filled with locals. By that, I mean they live all around and not just in Cross Creek. The next story I write will be about Micanopy, which is northwest of where Nika1 lives. The Yearling Restaurant has a good reputation all around that neighborhood. Next time, I want to eat at Blue Highway Pizza. It had a reputation as the best pizza in the state.
I done a fixin' to your Zeldma. No problem.
Davey~~I would be delighted to tell you where you can go. After rotating to so many pastures, the next stop is the slaughter house otherwise it has been a waste of good grass. Okay, the stove pipe is in the village or town where Nika lives....gotcha! I picture a short pot belly stove with a long stove pipe extending up to the ceiling.
When I was young, we lived in a farm house that still had the wood burning stove in the kitchen. Of course, we used the regular oven, but it sure was nice looking. And it worked!
Dave, does the Gator have much flavour? Have you ever tried Coconut Crab? Delicious! Thanks for part 3.
I love reading folklore of different parts of the country. We sure do have our share here in Savannah Georgia. If I could write like you, what tales I would have to tell. Keep it up and thanks for sharing with everyone.
This is so lovely to read. I had just gotten off of the Bad Breeders site, and 2/3s of the tales of woe were from Florida. It's SO NICE to read about a lovely place there, not totally loaded up with perv degenerates abusing their kids, but a group of decent people doing useful and interesting things with their lives, in a place that is real in the present- not some nostalgic invention to sigh over.
Hi, Tiffany - Gator isn't a strong tasting meat. I guess I could say it tastes kind of like chicken, but it's not chicken. It's not a fishy flavor, nor is it gamey. That's because commercial meat is farm raised. When caught in the wild, and since they are also bottom feeders, the meat would taste muddy, like catfish. Commercial catfish is also farm raised. I don't normally eat gator, but I felt adventurous. I'd eaten it years ago, so it wasn't as if I were in for something I knew nothing about.
I've never heard of coconut crab. Coconut shrimp? Yes, but alas, coconut is not on a diabetic's menu. It raises sugar. When I was first diagnosed, the doctor told me that I could not eat coconut. None? NONE, he said, and I haven't eaten it since. Of course, if you were doing the cooking...
Hi, Cindy – I enjoy writing stories like this because I know there's a lot of history involved. I didn't go to Cross Creek with all of this knowledge, but I was aware of what transpired there, but just about the author, not the lawsuit. Whenever I write something about a place I visit, I have to dig deeply into its past. This one was quite interesting, and I hope my final installment, about Micanopy, is, too. Thank you, I'm elated you enjoy my writing. Sometime soon, I hope, I'll be up your way and I know there will be a great deal to write about.
Believe me, Karen, after three years of Casey, this is a real oasis. It's folklore, it's true, and it's an interesting piece of history, not to mention a calming place to visit and enjoy today. There were no murders, no child molestations, and no rapes to write about. It was just a great place to write about. Plus, it allows me to show one of the other facets of my writing. I'm glad you liked it! Yes, not all is bad in the world, and I just won't allow myself to write about nothing but doom. Thanks. I like lovely.
Dave - Are you letting Snoopy talk about my
post office? Why it is 134 years old and just a wooden shack. The only heat is from the stove and no air conditioning in the summer. Our boxes are old but still work and I have the lucky number 1.
We have no stores in our community but do have a local farmer who sells his veggies. Everyone here works in Gainesville or Ocala.
Cross Creek is larger and the people farm, raise cattle, or fish. They also work in the two nearby towns. There are very few tourist and many live on their own resources. Not so much where I live.
Sorry - Ali Rose knocked the spacing off and I couldn't get it back.
No, Nika1, no one is going to make fun of your post office or your #1 P.O. Box. It's a great little building and there's a lot of history inside those walls. Please give Ali Rose a big scratch behind her ears for me!
Nika~~I think it would be best if you and I discussed your stove pipe. I was not so interested in the post office but now I have taken a fancy to that too since you desribed it. I couldn't understand why people wouldn't gather around the stove and share the morning news. Why the stove pipe unless of course, you have a lot of tall people in your village?
If I knew your address, I would send you a letter by snail mail. I already know it is Box 1. LOL
Who is Ali Rose, the post mistress? Shame on you, Dave?
ARF! ARF!
Hi Snoopy - The post office is very tall to keep the inside cooler. That is great for our summer days but not for the winter. . Old benches and chairs are around the stove to discuss the important news of the day. Such topics include politics, who got a new truck, to solving all the issues on the gator sports teams. All this valuable news begins the day. Of course the post office closes for a 2 hour lunch and we never heard of Saturday mail.
Dave, does plain seafood raise blood sugar levels? Coconut crab isn't cooked in coconut, though it does eat coconut itself. A delicacy in Vanuatu, it is naturally delicious and I fear any kind of sauce would ruin it. So, was the Gator prepared in a light coating of some kind prior to deep frying? Some of the recipes i've read about from the South sound scrumptious, albeit very harsh on the waistline.
In Laos their specialties are cat, bat, rat or virtually anything on a stick. Deep fried grasshoppers and spiders too. The locals forage for food then cook them and sell them in little makeshift roadside stalls. I'd recommend having a nice satay at Bangkok airport prior to travelling on to Laos and sticking to the instant packaged noodles made on bottled water lol.
Nika ~~God love ya! You are a true sweetheart! I came from a small town in New Brunswick and all the old timers used to sit around in the waiting room at the train station or on benches outside the General Store. The women used to have sewing circles or quilting bees and do their gossiping. You know, who got pregnant out of wedlock and went to visit their Auntie in another town until the nine months were up. No one had any secrets in my village. LOL
I knew Ali Rose was your doggie and I was just funning Dave. He still talks about what a wonderful time he had when he visited. I would have been in seventh heaven making that journey.
Tiffany~~I will stick to lobster dipped in butter and lemon. Steamed clams or mussels on the half shell with a splash of lemon. Deep fried scallops or pan fried halibut ....mmmm Cod tongues and cheeks..mmm again... I ate one raw oyster with my eyes closed.
For a million dollars I would eat a chocolate coated bumble bee... I think...
I got timed out .....
I take it a satay is like a shishkabob... I wouldn't mind a chookie satay.
Oh yum, Snoopy. I would happily join you in those seafood endeavours. Or a chookie satay lol. Raw oysters I readily enjoy whilst many others don't, same with baby octopus.
Tiffany~~raw oysters are delicious. It is the looks of them that kinda spoil your appetite. I prefer fish over meat any time although I like a nice hamburger or chicken burger.
Everyone who returns to Nova Scotia are drawn back to this place. Their chicken burgers are to die for.
Maybe I should say Chookieburgers.
The Chicken Burger
No, Tiffany, plain seafood doesn't raise sugar, but WOW! I took a look at Vanuatu on Google Maps and what a tropical paradise! I never knew it existed. If there were ever a place I'd want to retire to, that's it, and I'd stuff myself silly with coconut crab.
The gator was lightly breaded and deep-fried, which is a southern custom. I try to avoid fried food, but when I'm in a place steeped in tradition, I like to live it for the full effect. I do draw the line at chitlins and other oddities.
I am aware of Laotian food because we have a section here in Orlando that favors Vietnamese. I love a good satay, but chicken or beef is where I draw the line. No bat, cat, or rat, and no insects! In the U.S., we are warned to not drink the water south of the border. Use bottled if you don't want a bad case of Montezuma's Revenge. Yes, stick with packaged noodles and don't drink the water.
By the way, I can be QUITE adventurous!
Dave~ ~ WOW, I will send you the plane ticket to Vanuatu but only if you eat some live grapphoppers so you can hop on the jet with a spring in your step. It will be my treat...no sweat!
Oops, that will be a one-way ticket.
I'll take you up on that offer, Snoopy. It's not far from Kong Island, either.
Who told you that, Jeeves?
No, look it up. Kong Island. I should have said "was" because it sunk into the ocean in the mid-1930s.
Did the gorilla get drowned too? I mean King Kong.
King Kong died in NYC. Son of Kong, otherwise known as Junior, or JK, drowned when the island sank after a volcanic eruption. Kong Island was not the true name of the island. I should have written Skull Island, or Skull Mountain Island. There is some discussion or discrepancy over two names attributed to the island as either separate land masses or two alternative names of Skull Island in different South East Asian languages, origins unknown, with the latter most readily accepted by anthropologists. Skull Island is also known, then, as Farou Island and Mondo Island. The ancestry of the natives has never been explained because they perished at the time the island sank into the Pacific, although the setting suggests they were of a South East Asian group.
Why thank you, Professor Knechel. I would have thought that a volcano would erupt and the molten lava would spread out and make an Island bigger instead of sinking it. That does not sound logical but I assume the source of your information was reputable.
Would you believe that I was every professors pet? That is not a hint that I want you to start feeding me Kibbles and Bits. Okay?
I will feed you Monkey Bytes with Gorilla Filla. I did make a scholarly revision on my mini-dissertation.
My kids would enjoy that chookie burger joint, thanks for the link, Snoopy! May I have a one way ticket to Vanuatu too please?
What are chittlins please Dave?
Vanuatu would be a brilliant place to retire to Dave. It has world class scuba diving, beautiful food, is very relaxed, heavenly waterfalls, a gorgeous lagoon, glass bottom boat tours, so many things that make it one of the best places i've ever visited. The locals took me into their homes, showed me how they live, prepare cava. The biggest mistake tourists make is staying by the resort pool, there's a treasure trove of adventures outside of the resorts and off the main island. Another place you'd probably like is Heron Island, about two hours off the coast from where I live now. The coral is spectacular.
Chitterlings, or chit'lins, are pig intestines, Tiffany. They are breaded and deep fried, but I draw the line there. Won't eat them and don't want to smell them when they're cooking. It's an African-American and Southern culinary tradition sometimes called "soul food" cooking.
Now it's my turn... What is cava? The only thing I'm finding is a type of Spanish wine. Was Vanuata once under Spanish rule? Anyway, that's where I want to go.
One day, but I did go look at Heron Island. Sweeeeeet!
Dave - I will not go anywhere near chit'lins but i also will not touch an oyster. As far as oysters are concerned i never eat anything that goes down faster than you can swallow.
By the way, most of King Kong's remains were ground into hamburger meat and sold to diners throughout the tri-state area of New York, New Jersey and Connecticut. Some steak cuts ended up in military C-Rations prior to WWII.
I like oysters, Nika1, but I grew up on clams. I once sat down with my friend, Frank, and ate 7 dozen clams in one sitting, washed down by at least 7 draught beers. Of course, that was way back in the day, but I still love them.
Nika ~~lol, you must have tried a raw oyster at one time. I ate one on a dare. I have to admit, it was delicious.
Dave, 7 dozen clams equals 84. Do you know that they will deplete the calcium in your body? No wonder you would make good shark bait today. I will sent you a snorkle when I sent your plane ticket.
Tiffany, I can't send any money for your ticket until my pension check comes in next month. Sorry. If Dave gets to the Island first and does a little snorkling, there will be no need for you to go. I am not talking Jonah and the whale here.