Good eating at my house!

My July 7 column

There’s good eating at our house
We stopped off at the Wallace Cook farm, west of Lyerly, on July 3, so my wife and I could buy some fresh vegetables. It was a good move. She picked up a fine assortment of peppers, squash, corn and cucumbers.
They will not last long at Casa Espy. Alison will go through that stuff like nobody’s business.
When she moved to Northwest Georgia, Alison knew little about country cooking. Born and raised in South Africa, she knew a lot more about chutneys than about pickled pig’s feet. She came to the United States as a young teen, but by then she had become a vegetarian – gasp! – and so her ideas about what to eat were really unusual for the Deep South, where if something moves and doesn’t have a Social Security number we are inclined to shoot it and toss chunks of it in a big, black frying pan.
Alison’s ideas of preparing food also included options other than frying the heck out of it.
On the other hand, I am a traditional Southern eater. Deep frying is next to Cleanliness which is next to Godliness. I like grease. I like lard. I like MSG. I like refined sugar. I like white bread (preferably smeared with delicious potted meat). Mayonnaise is King!
Over our years together we have learned to compromise on our dining. I like to think my palette has become a bit more sophisticated and certainly I am willing to try new things – within reason. My enjoyment of several food shows (“Top Chef,” “No Reservations”) on cable TV has also spurred this evolution.
Much to my amusement Alison has not only learned to tolerate Southern cooking, but has come to appreciate some of it. It didn’t hurt that much of the first Southern food she ate was made by my late mother, Sally Kinsey, who is now a Master Chef in Heaven, and my wonderful aunts who also knew how to sling the hash.
We recently went to a movie in Dalton and I noticed that Alison was sneaking something out of her purse and munching on it. What’s that, I asked, clutching my own overpriced theater-sold box of Milk Duds.
“Corn bread,” she whispered.
I laughed out loud.
All she needed was a glass of buttermilk to go with it.
For awhile our daughter Rowan was a culinary battleground.
Her mother wanted to feed her only the healthiest, most natural food available. I was determined to make sure Rowan wasn’t The Kid the Other Kids Laughed At in the school cafeteria, where they munched hot dogs while she nibbled on lentils and sprouts.
It has taken some time, but eventually we reached our version of a gastronomic Treaty of Versailles, agreeing to work together to make sure our daughter eats well, but also enjoys a plethora of non-toxic but fun junk food (in reasonable quantities.)
Lunch one day may mean broccoli, beans and brown rice. But later that night there could well be a strawberry milkshake to knock down.
It seems to be working (though Alison is still absolutely appalled by our daughter’s sheer joy in devouring an entire can of Vienna sausages.)
On a recent outing with some family members, Rowan got to eat pizza. When asked what kind she wanted on her slices, she without hesitation told my brother “Spinach!”
That drew a pretty good a laugh but one day when she is mashing softball home runs with her Popeye-sized biceps, her mom and dad will enjoy the last chuckle.
We both want our daughter to try new foods and not be afraid of doing a little culinary experimenting. That’s why though she loves Kraft American singles (“square cheese”) she also has a taste for Swiss, provolone and cheddar.
One day at school they were serving that “government cheese” the cafeterias all seem to offer. Rowan took a bite and then asked her teacher if they “had any Gouda!”
That’s my girl! And that’s also my wife!

Jimmy Espy is staff writer for the Summerville News. His favorite foods are lamb, fried shrimp, barbecue pork, fried chicken and salty watermelon. It’s no surprise he’s overweight.