hen it starts to feel like summer, you’ll find us on the porch having one of our Screen Porch Suppers. Now, we don’t really host anything called a Screen Porch Supper, but if family or friends stop by, which they often do, it becomes an event. There’s always plenty of food and more conversation than you can handle. We live by what my grandmaw always said every time we walked in the door, “Have you eaten yet?” And it doesn’t matter if the answer is yes, there’s still something worth pickin’ at. I guess all that’s pretty common, but I think it’s something that’s not as appreciated today as it once was. I was raised the same way my parents were. They made sure our door was always open, that even if food was scarce there was enough to go around, and if you needed a place to lay your head, consider yourself at home. I didn’t realize my parents were raising me any certain way though. You don’t stop to recognize something that just is. All our neighbors were the same way. Anything one of us had, the rest were welcome to. I helped our next-door neighbor, Charlie, put out the garden each year and then I’d help his wife, Mary, put it up. They gave away even more than they kept, which is probably why when things were lean in our house, there was still enough food to go around. Mary taught me a lot about cooking. I made her 14-day pickles when I was 13 years old and entered them into the county fair. I won first place in my division. I don’t think there were many 13-year-old boys making pickles, so I didn’t have a lot of competition. She told me about how her grandfather taught her to make bread, which he learned while baking bread for the soldiers in his camp during the Civil War, as she showed me what to do. I still make her bread-n-butter
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pickles each year, and now I’m kind of famous for them among my friends. I can’t make potato salad without thinking about hers. And, her deviled eggs were the best I’d ever had, and that includes the ones at church potlucks. So, today at our house, a Screen Porch Supper is almost never complete without some deviled eggs, which this past year I’ve taken to calling The Devil’s Cackleberries. They’re one of the first things I remember learning how to make and never having a recipe for. Mary just made them, and I would watch or help mash the yolks or something. But boy, would I help eat ‘em! Before I get into how to make them, let’s talk about tips for the best results... 1. Never use fresh eggs to hard boil. Some will say that there’s a foolproof method for easily peeling fresh eggs, but my mama didn’t raise a fool. I buy eggs two weeks before if I know I’m gonna make them. 2. Turn the eggs over in the carton the night before you boil them, so the yolks settle to the center. 3. To peel them, once they’ve cooled in cold water, put the lid back on the pot. While holding the lid on, and holding the pot over the sink, give it a good shake for about 30 seconds. As the eggs knock against one another in the pan, the shells will crack, and water will get up under it and start to peel the eggs for you. Then just finish peeling the eggs in the pan and rinse them off to remove any remaining shell bits. The pieces of shell will fall to the bottom of the water, so when you’re done, just pour off the water and toss the shells into the trash. Or, if you compost, just put them in the bin. 4. Always boil 1 or 2 more than you plan to devil. That way if you get the yolk mixture too runny, you can mash in another yolk or two and it will thicken right up. Then you’ll have a couple of testers to make sure they’re just right.
