After nearly twenty years of living in the South in places like Newton, Alabama, Bay Saint Louis, Mississippi, and now Hopkinsville, Kentucky, some mannerisms specific to this region were bound to become woven in my personality. Distant objects are ‘over yonder.’ I’m fixin’ to send out some Thanksgiving cards today. And though the term “redneck” conjures up certain stereotypical images, it really does reference the color of one’s neck after spending a lot of time in the sun. With that in mind and given the amount of time I spend outdoors working, I reckon I am one.

Southern cuisine, especially Cajun and Creole, was very easy to learn to love, especially where we lived in Mississippi. With many of the restaurants owned by former New Orleans’ chefs, there was no such thing as a bad one; it wouldn’t have been able to survive. Other Southern staples soon became absolute favorites of mine–especially fried anything–though I had to learn how to eat in moderation lest I become one of those people seen wandering around in pajama pants. Eating Southern cuisine is easy; cooking Southern cuisine is not. It doesn’t stop me from trying though. 

I decided to make hush puppies for dinner last night, something I rarely eat and have never made. But there was a box of mix in the pantry and I figured I’d give it a shot. It seemed easy enough; I just needed to add an egg and a little water to the mix, heat up the oil, and wait ten minutes for the batter to rest. 

  
I don’t have a deep fat fryer, and according to the directions I didn’t have nearly enough oil, but I’m used to making do with what I have (living with boat- and RV-size kitchens will make a McGyver out of any cook.) Having never made them, I was dubious about dropping batter in extremely hot oil; cooking shouldn’t be dangerous and the simple act of frying makes it so. Extreme caution advised. 

  
The batter expanded as expected, but I questioned just how big these puppies were supposed to be. The box said that the yield would be six, but if I used a tablespoon to measure as was suggested, there would be way more. I decided to error on the side of caution since hot oil was involved and since smaller puppies would be easier to manage. 

  
I realize that boxed mixes border on being sacreligious here in the South and that “made from scratch” is a badge of honor in these parts. But for this Midwestern gypsy who is very likely to keep wandering, simply putting forth a good effort should count for something. Besides, the pups actually were pretty good, even though the shape of my pan made them look like wantons. I’m chalking it up as a success!