A Southern Gallimaufry
Sauté a cup of finely chopped white onions in a stick of butter until clear; stir in 3 tablespoons flour. With grace and beauty, blend in a cup and a half of milk mixed with an egg yolk. Stir until smooth and thick. Remove from heat, add six sliced hard-boiled eggs, two tablespoons grated hard cheese, cayenne for heat, and paprika for color. Salt to taste. This recipe serves about eight people.
You can find mixes for this old cake in the store, but they cannot compare to scratch, and September’s hot, dry weather is the perfect time to make it. It’s tricky; the water and cream of tartar go a long way to make sure you get good results.
Preheat oven to 350. Separate a dozen eggs, using caution to ensure no yolks make it into the whites. Bring whites to room temperature and stir in a tablespoon of water. Sift a cup of cake flour with a half cup sugar until it’s very light, at least twice, thrice is better. Beat egg whites in a large, very clean, dry bowl until foamy and sprinkle in a half teaspoon of cream of tartar. Continue beating, and as the texture begins to even out, add a teaspoon or two of pure vanilla extract and–gradually mix in another cup of sugar. Keep beating at a medium speed until the whites form stiff peaks, then carefully fold in the flour while sifting it over the whites. Use a spatula, and turn the bowl; the key is not to deflate the bubbles, so don’t over-mix.
Gently pour the batter into a 10-in. ungreased tube pan; the cake has to cling to the sides as it rises to make it crusty. Bake until the top is browned and springy. Use a knife to separate the cake out, and cool on a rack.
Slice or cube young cucumbers, squash, or green tomatoes. Pack into jars. Mix water and vinegar 2:1 with a tablespoon each salt and sugar per cup of liquid. A little garlic is a nice touch. Heat and stir until dissolved, cool, and pour over vegetables, with enough liquid to cover. Seal and shake a time or two. Refrigerate overnight before serving.
He was born to wealth, with a wife and children in a mansion on St. Charles, land from Natchez to Memphis, a man of taste and discretion, well-schooled in the ways of the world. She was born in poverty, with a red leather trunk containing everything she owned, a woman/child knowing nothing but footlights.
One night she plucked out his heart and held it in her hand. For an ethereal week, he kept her in an apartment on Ursuline. Then the revue—a musical comedy, ‘In Dahomey’—swept her away to Chicago, Manhattan, London, and Paris, into the arms of others. When he bought 24,000 acres in Boliver County the next year, he named the land for her face, radiant in the lime light, and her body, warm beside his in the morning sun.
Wrapping in foil before baking ensures a steamed potato, which is wonderful and nostalgic, but lesser fare than the crisp skin and fluffy center of dry baked. Wash potatoes, dry thoroughly, and coat with salted oil. A 12 oz. russet will take an hour in a 400F oven.
This memoir was originally written in 1996 and emailed to the Fasola – Discussions group. At the time, the worship activity we know as Sacred Harp was in the middle of a nationwide growth & resurgence.
The following is the description of one of the earliest Sacred Harp events that I can remember, even somewhat vividly. It is stored in the corner of my memory and every now and then it sneaks out to refresh my thoughts.
July 1973 – I was but twelve years old. I had been to Sacred Harp singings all my life but this was the first year that I was trying to take in as many of them as I could. Being late summer, the crops were “laid by” and conventions were beginning to occur in North Mississippi. I come from a very active churchgoing family so Saturday singings are at the top of my list. It was the Saturday before the first Sunday in August (last day of July), time for the Webster County (Mississippi) Convention. For many years, this had been a two-day singing but it had been reduced to one like many others that would follow.
I loaded my fence-rail frame into the back of an old Chevelle with Hugh and Henry McGuire, chauffeured proudly by their father, Hugh Bill McGuire. Making our way to the south end of Calhoun County, we turned on to a dusty gravel road just below Derma, Mississippi (go ahead, get out your atlas). It was a typical hot, scalding July day. The vegetation on the roadside was now a dull green from months of the hot sun and covered with layers of dust, put there by ambling autos and numerous farm implements. We crossed Topashaw creek bottom which included a handful of rickety old wooden plank bridges stretched across an almost dry creek bed. As you climb the first hill on the other side, you can look across the creek bottom and see a straight road for about a country mile (and then some) and watch the dust you have left behind settle gently above the road in the late summer heat. We pass through little communities so small that if you blink, you’ve missed them. One barn roof proudly proclaims “Bentley, USA”. Bently is now home to a 4th of July barbecue which is heavily attended in election years.
Somewhere in the woods we leave Calhoun County and enter Webster County. Within a matter of minutes, we enter the sleepy little community of Montevista where the local Baptist church is hosting the convention. Upon entering the church, it didn’t take long to figure out that without us Calhoun County folks, the pickins’ would be kind of slim. Most of the Webster County singers were on tenor, with a few others scattered on the remaining parts.
Here sat a group of folks, mostly senior citizens, who had attended singings most all their life. In their younger days, they had made their way to singings at local churches in wagons pulled by oxen, horses, or mules. On this day they came in vehicles named Fairlane, Galaxy 500, and Impala. They communicated by “yellin’ across the holler” as children but had lived to know that men walked on the moon. Today, they continued the tradition of singing from the Sacred Harp.
I still remember some selections from the day. The day’s singing included “When I am Gone,” “O, Come Away,” “Soft Music,” “Pilgrims Farewell,” “Wells,” “Windham” (led in 4/4 time by Joe Cobb) and “Easter Anthem,” which was traditionally sung in Mississippi at 2:00 in the afternoon. Other favorites were from the 1911 Sacred Harp (J.L. White edition) which were included in the 1958 Deason/Parris revision of the Christian Harmony. “Angel Band” and “Don’t Grieve Your Mother” were among those favorites.
Dinner, served under the oak trees behind the church, was a sight to behold. Plates of fried chicken graced the table alongside fresh butterbeans, tomatoes, corn, & squash. The meal could be topped off with some heavenly coconut cake or homemade chocolate pie topped with fresh calf slobber (meringue). One cook had brewed the ice tea a little strong. When the extra strong tea was poured out by me and John Leigh Vanhorn, it fizzled and made a layer of foam on the hot gravel in the driveway. A tastier batch awaited us in another jug on the table.
The afternoon session concluded with many thank you’s and “’preciate all you folks from other counties comin”.A couple of times someone looked over at Hugh, Henry, and myself and said “it shore is good to see these young fellers takin’ up sangin”. New Hope Baptist Church offered to host the convention the following year. After a song and a prayer, the convention was dismissed until 1974.
Before the long (35 mile) ride home back down the same dusty trail in a non-air conditioned car, Hugh Bill made a stop at the Montevista grocery store. This little cinder block building sat at the bottom of the hill below the church with a Southland Oil sign and kitty cat decals on the gas pumps out front. Once inside, Hugh, Henry and I made our way over to the old fashioned “drank box”. What a selection! Nestled inside the cooler were cold Nehi bellywashers (Peach & Strawberry), along with numerous other fruit drinks. I opted for a cold Grapette which was beside companions Lemonette and Orangette. These had to be the best fruit flavored soft drinks of all time. At least they were on that day. On the dusty car ride home, us boys sang songs we didn’t know from the Christian Harmony. Hugh Bill sang along with us while driving. He didn’t need a book since he knew them all from memory. (Still does, for that matter.)
For the next few years the Webster County Convention convened at New Hope Church, which sat on the main highway (Mississippi 9) between Eupora & Calhoun City. The remaining singers discontinued their visits to Calhoun County due to disability or they passed away. The last attempt at a singing was summer 1983 or 1984, I’m really not sure. The Webster County Convention went the way of many others in our state. They’re gone but not forgotten.
My memory of this was stirred when I read the J-card from a cassette recording from a convention in the north (somewhere in New England, I’m thinking). It included a list of singings begun in recent years. For every singing listed on that cassette, there is a singing in The South (such as the Webster Convention) that no longer exists, somewhere here in The South. I appreciate the efforts of all you folks around the country that have started singing groups, conventions, etc. In your own way, you’re preserving this fine old tradition we fondly know as Sacred Harp.
You may preserve the sound and the music. Unfortunately, you can’t preserve people, places, and time, nor the lost days of youthful boys.
Mark S. Davis Pearl, Mississippi
Line a lightly buttered loaf pan with parchment paper, and place it in the freezer. Add two teaspoons pure vanilla to 14-ozs. sweetened condensed milk and refrigerate. Whip two cups of heavy cream to stiff peaks. Working quickly, GENTLY fold the whipped cream into the sweetened condensed milk, along with any additions—mashed macerated fruit, chocolate syrup, or crushed cookies or nuts—until well blended. Pour into the cold loaf pan and cover with plastic wrap. Freeze for at least four hours. Some recipes will tell you to stir the mixture after about two hours (while you still can) but you don’t have to.
Frank Bowen sent me this recipe, and here I reproduce his original mail with the reminder that while the location has changed. Pizza Den is still open, and Bob’s family is carrying on the tradition of great local food in Oxford. Go see them the next time you’re there.
The following is a recipe that was posted on an Ole Miss Spirit message board several years ago. I made it several times and can attest that it is faithful to the original at the Pizza Den. It is not in standard recipe format, but it tells how to make the sandwich very well. I don’t know who made the post. He had a user name of Reblanta. I have found that the instructions of letting it rest on the counter for 15-20 minutes to simulate delivery is an important step.
Pizza Bob’s Famous Submarine Sandwich
In May, 1983, I had just bought a new car and decided that I would take it out on the road and drive up to Oxford for the afternoon, primarily to drop by Pizza Den and pick up some submarines to take back home and share with my Ole Miss friends that night. Things were slow late that afternoon when I got there but Pizza Bob was in good spirits. Since nobody else was there, I decided to broach the sacred subject on just how Bob made his famous submarine sandwich. Whether he was thinking of the good times he’d had in Nam, the money he had made off of me over the years, or perhaps he just felt sorry for me, I couldn’t tell, but this is what he told me. I watched him make the submarines and committed the process to memory.
Take your baguette, split it down the middle. Pour butter over the open slices of bread, sprinkle on a generous portion of both Parmesan and mozzarella cheese and place several thin slices of ham, salami, AND luncheon meat! Bob dusted all slices in between with the same cheese mixture, then in the middle of the meats he ladled in spaghetti sauce. Over the top of the meats he sprinkled more of the cheese mixture and then placed the other half of the bread on top. Finally, just as he was ready to seal up the sandwich in foil, he poured more melted butter over all. I cook mine about 20 minutes total in 350 degrees, turning it over about half way to disperse the butter evenly throughout. Finally, to make it authentic, take it out of the oven, and leave it on the counter top for about 15 to 20 minutes to simulate the delivery to Fraternity Row. Always remember to press the sandwich down as well.
I make it a point to make “Pizza Bobs” for every first televised football game of the year and I suggest that you do as well. I make mine exactly like he told me to except for that luncheon meat stuff. I hope that when you make your “Pizza Bob” sandwiches, you’ll think of Pizza Bob. I once heard this said and believe it now to be true: If food were a religion, Pizza Bob would be the High Priest.
