Those words being “recipes” and “food.”

I try to write “tight” as they say, meaning I mean what I write. There’s no underlying secret code.

So, getting right to the point, yes, sprinkled throughout the book are some of our favorite recipes.  Below is a chapter from the book on said recipes:

Scattered throughout this book you will find a few recipes, enjoyable morsels of the food variety when words won’t suffice.

  When I started out as a cub reporter, I barely made enough to pay the rent. Food was a luxury. And so I worked on the weekends at an incredible restaurant specializing in French and Creole cooking.

  I don’t cook. I create. Recipes are made to be broken.

  I think I did pretty well. Some of these won the heart of the Little Black Dress, so I’ve got that going for me. After we were married, we started writing down a few and several years ago put together a small cookbook for friends.

  The Dress and I make a good team, probably because we are polar opposites in the kitchen. I clean as I go, the LBD believes in using every pot, pan and dish available, and worry about cleanup later.

  I look at a recipe as a guide. I’m not into ¼ and 1/8 measurements of some seasoning I’ve never heard of.  I usually pour seasonings into the cup of my hand and throw it in. I’m into dashes, shakes, squirts, the term “a lot” or “a bunch” and every now and then a pinch. However, for the sake of getting you started, I’ve added some rough measurements.

  The Dress follows the recipe and is constantly asking me how many pints to a quart, teaspoons to tablespoons and so on and so forth. I finally just wrote up a measurement chart for her. We’ve taken that old chart from Washington, D.C. to Alaska to Georgia.

  But we have fun. And that’s what it’s all about.

  Many of the recipes you’ll find here are named after friends of ours. Those who, willingly or unwillingly, served as guinea pigs. The least we can do is pay them tribute.

   As I said, recipes are made to be broken. Please break ours. If you find an ingredient you don’t like, don’t use it. I don’t think I’ve ever used cream of tartar or coriander seeds. Personally, I think some chef just threw those in to be uppity.

  On the other hand, if you’re trying Milt’s chili, you are going to need chili powder. It just won’t work otherwise. Same for a curry chicken dish. You kind of need the curry.

  These recipes are not a blow- by-blow or step-by-step. Just guidelines. I am constantly asked “how much of this” or “how much of that.” I don’t know, how much do you want? I rarely make a recipe the same way each time.

  We use an outdoor grill – a lot. For years we used gas grills, but maybe because I’m getting older, I’ve switched to charcoal and the old ways. We’re not going to waste your time telling you the intricacies of using your grill. If there’s one thing I’ve learned in cooking, you never mess with a man’s (or woman’s) spouse, dog or grill. 

  It’s about sharing great food with great friends.  Make it your own.

  And enjoy.

It is the 40-day period when Christians who are so inclined give up something they value as a sacrifice in preparation of Easter. But then it gets sort of complicated.

Now while Lent starts today, the exact 40-day period is debatable. Get a bunch of religions together and they can’t even agree on what constitutes 40 days. Some don’t count Sundays, others give breaks for St. Patrick’s Day. Some add or subtract Saturdays, others apparently use darts and throw them at a calendar. Check out Wikipedia for more.

Anyway, over at her blog, the Little Black Dress is inviting friends and readers to share what they will give up for Lent. The Dress takes this time seriously, an opportunity to focus on God through sacrifice.

And I do mean seriously. The LBD will forsake meat most of the time, but there’s more. During Lent, The Dress is giving up Hobby Lobby. There is also talk of DSW Shoes. If you know The Dress, you understand this is about as sacrificial as it comes. This is a woman who has been known to talk to her shoes; and who believes a day is not complete without a least a quick pass through any store focusing on “decor.” Not that I’m actually saying she really talks to her shoes, just that it “has been known,” which is open to interpretation.

My proposal to give up Brussels Sprouts seems rather weak in retrospect.

I don’t really consider Brussels Sprouts food, but rather a replacement for ping-pong balls when the last of said balls breaks. After hearing the LBD’s decision, I decided I’d better come up with something, say, a little more sacrificial.

And so, I intend to give up purchasing anything “new” during this period.

Now before everyone stands and applauds and starts throwing out words like “stud muffin,” there are a few caveats. Hey, if the churches can’t agree on the 40-day period, I get a break.

My period of sacrifice begins Friday. I say that because tomorrow, Thursday, I’m attending a map and compass class at REI, the mecca and Holy Grail of everything related to camping, backpacking and hiking. I know there are a couple of items I simply must get for the Sons of Thunder. You know, some comfort items to help them out with this new outdoor experience we’re getting into. Nothing for me, mind you.

Secondly, this “not buying anything new” plan does not include food.

I am unaware of any Salvation Army or Goodwill or food pantry-type store that sells used food. And even if there was, I’m just not going there – there being buying pre-chewed food.

This also does not include other necessities, things like toothpaste, deodorant and toilet paper.

However, it will include clothes, toys, anything related to hiking/camping/backpacking, and just plain “stuff” I can live without for 40 days. There is a difference between a need and a want; and between a need and a real – as in survival – need.

Giving up something you don’t really care about is easy. Giving up something of value, something you want, is another story. Lent is a time, as the LBD says on her blog, “to make a sacrifice unto the Lord.” A time to seek and find God’s direction for your life.

It is not a time to play holier than thou nor win a “My sacrifice is bigger than your sacrifice” contest.

As The Dress says, seek and find.

There’s nothing else like it.

Over time, you’ll start seeing familiar faces; others seeking that same craving. Habits may change, but you will always remember your first joint. And it probably was your father who made the introduction.

The names differ from city to town, but the decor is fairly constant. A friend may introduce you to his joint, and you’ll feel right at home. But your favorite joint is your hometown one, the one that makes the best burgers in the world.

Mine is located in Tulsa, and every time we came back,  it was the first food stop. Always. Except Mondays, when they were closed. Oh, and when they closed down the place in summer for two weeks for vacation. And somehow our trips always coincided with that closure, and that never made me happy.

My dad first took me there, and for a while it was our Saturday morning ritual. I started taking the Sons of Thunder there. They, just like I did at that age,  favor the stools at the counter.

You see, the stools – five on one end, six on the other – spin. Really, really well.  If you’re not into that, there’s five booths or seven or eight tables that seat either two or four. Or more if you pull up some chairs.

The ketchup comes in glass bottles and it’s the slowest ketchup in the world.  When I was young, one of the old-timers working the counter told me to squeeze the bottle. I did, he laughed and then I did too, although I was a little embarrassed. Same thing happened to one of the Sons of Thunder.

Same guy, same joke. Forty years apart.

It was a family business and the customers and employees remained the same. It was a constant. The only variable was we just aged. The owner died a few weeks ago, and it seems most of the other original team has gone. Too many new faces. It just doesn’t feel the same.

Yet for more than 40 years the place has held up pretty well. The booths are tired, as are a lot of the chairs. But that’s the way it always is. The booths have this rather odd green, and the chairs are yellow and orange. Interesting mixture.

The counters are pretty hard to describe. The Little Black Dress says they are “salmon” colored. But somehow “salmon” in my hamburger joint just doesn’t make much sense. Let’s just say throw in some orange, yellow, a lot of wear and tear, a lot of grease and a lot of years, and you’ll come up with something.

As I said, the faces are changing. But the food always remained constant. Sometimes I like constant things. You can have a hamburger, cheeseburger, weinerburger, fish or grilled cheese. They also have “bowl” specials on different days – butterbeans, navy beans or beef stew. There’s homemade chili and a few side dishes – cottage cheese, coleslaw and if you get the hamburger steak, which is what the LBD always gets, they give you two slices of white bread.

The pies are homemade, and the Sons of Thunder were always pretty much into those. They’re huge slices and you order them when you get your regular food order because you sure don’t want someone else to get that last slice. They only make so many each day. The Sons favor coconut and chocolate.

There has been one change in the food options. They no longer serve french fries. See, some of the employees, including the head cook, are ex-military. They didn’t take too kindly to the French bailing on us during the Second Iraqi War. So they still serve fries, but now they’re  Freedom fries. With a capital “F.”

On the day of my wedding, I took all the groomsmen to lunch there. Ordered what I’ve always ordered – two cheeseburgers, mayo only, onions fried in. Side of Freedom fries, and of course a root beer. I don’t know where they get it, but it’s the best and coldest root beer around. Served in a frozen glass mug. Everyone orders root beer.

Funny, I’ve never tried any of their other options. It’s always the same cheeseburgers. Sometimes I’ll order a third, if I’m really hungry. I did on my wedding day.

I went back recently since our move back to the area. I didn’t recognize a single face. New cook, new waitresses, even the dishwasher guy was new.

And while the “ambiance” was exactly as I remembered, it just wasn’t the same. I took the Little Black Dress there a week later, hoping, praying my last visit was some imbalance in the galaxy or something.

It wasn’t. Even the LBD said it was different.  Something was missing in the taste and I still can’t put my finger on it. Even the root beer, the one constant, seemed different. And No. 2 Son of Thunder pointed out the coconut pie wasn’t as good as usually. And that’s a big sign.

And that made me sad. Because “your” joint should never change. We need a few constants in life, a few things we can always rely on.

But I guess life goes on. But I’m not really sure that’s such a good thing in this case.

Talk about hip, she’s got her own YouTube channel where she shares stories from that era and more importantly, shares those secret recipes that stretched the food budget a long way.

With the economy going the way it is,  you might want to check out the appropriately named Depression Cooking channel. And no, shoe leather is not involved.

Hat tip to The Simple Dollar for pointing this out.