Countdown to 2004: Happy New Year!


Here it is, my "Countdown to 2004," of sorts, in all it’s blackgrrl glory. Enjoy.

  1. You have to get up early and start your day by making black eyed peas so the first thing that hits your stomach after midnight will be a delicious bowl of good luck. The traditional meal for good fortune in the new year where I come from is black eyed peas with hamhocks (for luck), rice (for health) and collard greens (for money), along with sweet tea, cornbread and whatnot. I can’t eat all that tonight and even if I could, I don’t have time to make it. As you’ll soon find out, I’ve got a lot to do today. The black eyed peas will have to do.

    Here’s my royal gift to whoever loves me in cyberspace: a special recipe. I want all of you to get off to a good start this year. (And no, it’s not from my personal ultra secret ultra Southern cookbook. If you want that, you’ll have to come over to my house.) By the way—like Big Momma ‘n them, I don’t really measure anything. Whatever’s in the instructions is approximate, not exact.

    Queen Esther’s Standard Issue Recipe for Black Eyed Peas

    One bag of black eyed peas, any brand at all

    Olive oil (preferably extra virgin)

    Bay leaf

    Scallions

    Garlic

    One large yellow onion

    Black Pepper

    Optional (here’s the magic, folks):

    Molasses or honey

    Fresh basil (preferably sweet)

    Tarragon

    Smoked meats (bacon, turkey wings/legs, neckbones, etc.)

    Here’s an interesting tidbit: Although black eyed peas got here through the African slave trade, they are from Asia—just like that other quintessentially Southern object of my desire, kudzu.

    Take a large pot with a secure lid and fill it with something like at least 6 quarts of water with a long dollop of extra virgin olive oil for flavor. Slice into the onion and garlic lengthwise to open them up a bit and then put them in whole. Cover this and let all of it come to a rolling boil.


    Queen Esther Suggestion #1: Use lots of garlic. It’s good for you.

    You should have sorted your peas for pebbles and random bits of filth and debris the day before and soaked them in a bowl. (Don’t just open the bag and toss it in the pot. Hey—you can’t be too sure, especially nowadays.) If you didn’t, don’t worry about it. Just take out another pot, fill it with water, boil the peas for two hours, then rinse them in icy cold water and you’re good to go.

    Queen Esther Suggestion #2: Use a crock pot. Put enough water in it to keep it from drying out, put it on low and skip out of the house. If you’re anything like me, you don’t have time for anything else.

    If you’re not a vegan, now is the time to toss in the meat: bacon, ham hocks, whatever. If you can’t take the oink, use turkey wings—whatever tweaks your speakers, as long as it’s smoked.

    Add the scallions along with the black eyed peas, turn down the heat and let it simmer for awhile. Vegans should add finely chopped fresh basil and a bit of fresh tarragon and all of you must add one nice sized bay leaf. If you’ve got a pot, you’ll have to watch it carefully, so you can keep adding water to prevent scorching or sticking. If you’ve got a crock pot, add water, put it on low and you’re free to go. After about 20 minutes or so, add a dollop of molasses or honey if you feel like it and at least one tablespoon of black pepper whether you feel like it or not. Salt to taste. (You should know that some people like to stick this dish in the oven in a roasting pan or dutch oven right about now to complete the cooking process, but I’m just not that kind of party. Unless, of course, I’m making rice.)

    Queen Esther Suggestion #3: Hey, Carnivores—ditch the meat this time and use herbs. You’re not going to believe this (because neither did I, frankly) but it’s quite flavorful without pork.

    If you did this right, it ought to be more like soup, not stew. There should be enough for anyone who wants to share the luck with you.

    (If you don’t like this recipe, here’s two others: Hoppin’ John and another one with chard for vegans. No matter what you make, make something. And bon appetit.)



  1. While you’re making the black eyed peas, you should probably call all of your family and friends, far and wide. They’ll definitely be calling you. This is a very important step because somehow, all that love will end up in the pot.

  1. Scour your apartment and organize your closet. It’s good luck.

  1. Absolutely everyone in the neighborhood was in the 24 hour Laundromat by the time I got there in the afternoon. I’m sure that they were thinking the same thing that I was thinking: Clean absolutely all of your dirty clothes before the new year arrives. That’s good luck, too.

  1. While you were doing all that cleaning and organizing, you must have found some stuff that you don’t want anymore. Bag it up and take it to The Salvation Army for a last minute tax write off. (And be sure to get a receipt. You know I did.)

  1. While you’re out, take your Baby Taylor to Guitar Row to get the action fixed and get it restrung.

  1. Shop for groceries so you won’t have to go out for anything for the rest of the week. Go to Fairway and get the stuff you love, like Ben n Jerry’s New York Super Fudge Chunk ice cream, smoked Scottish salmon, stuffed Vidalia onions, fresh fruit, sautéed kale or broccoli with toasted garlic, Sabrett wieners and good German sauerkraut and German brown mustard and my favorite German ginger ale, (imported from South Carolina of course). Yum. And by the way. You might want to go by the video store and rent the stuff you haven’t had a chance to see, so you can pull the shades tomorrow, stay in bed all day and watch movies.

  1. Shower and shave, and put on your fabulously clean clothes. Be filled with a wonderful sense of relief that you got your hands and feet done before the end of the year. And your eyebrows.

  1. Now that you’re clean and your place is clean and smelling like Southern home cooking, it’s time for you to either stay in or leave for the evening. Have fun.

  1. Do not, I repeat, do not eat or drink anything after midnight until you’ve had at least one bowl of those black eyed peas that you’ve left simmering on the back of the stove all day.

 
 


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