For me, okra has always been somewhat of an enigma. In the South we mostly have it fried. If you try to boil it, it becomes very
mucous-y and sticky. What is this
madness?!
When I think of okra, my mind flashes back to memories of going to my grandparent’s house for Sunday lunch. My grandmother (who is a beautiful southern lady) standing at the stove with her apron on, pulling the last few pieces of fried okra out of the hot oil. I loved eating that fried okra. It was crispy and salty with a touch of sweetness. It was the perfect accompaniment to any southern dinner - whether it was beans and cornbread or roast and potatoes.
Fried okra also reminds my of a favorite childhood book
“When I Was Young in the Mountains” by Cynthia Rylant.
As I got older, I learned a delicious recipe with okra using Indian spices but I never truly appreciated the okra in its original form. Raw. It is a truly delightful vegetable. I always imagined that raw okra would be tough, hairy and slimy. Which is why I had never thought of trying it. My brother opened my eyes one day to the error of my ways when he handed me okra cut in two with some salt. I bit into it. It was crisp, fresh, mild, not slimy and absolutely delicious. My respect and love for this little vegetable increased exponentially.
I look forward every season to fresh okra. However, instead
of thinking of whether I want it fried or covered in spices, I simply want it
raw with a touch of salt.
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