Tuesday, July 16, 2013

Starting Starters: Get hungry for justice!

Dear Readers, you wouldn't believe what a marvelous few days I've been having getting acquainted with Ms. Deen's Righteous Recipes.  The first section in the book is dedicated to appetizers, and since the majority of these recipes are short and simple, I decided that many of them could join forces in a single blog post.  This is not to say that each is not a carefully crafted statement about our need to return to a traditional, family-oriented society; rather, I simply cannot contain my eagerness to write about these various masterpieces.

Please remember that I will not be posting full recipes.  I would not rob the Beautiful Butterer of her profit margin, unlike some of the touchier peoples on this earth.  ONWARD!


Pecan and Cream Cheese-Stuffed Dates with DestinyThis delightful little hors d'oeurve features dates stuffed with cream cheese, pecans, and spices.  I applaud Paula's use of a desert fruit here; what's the point of conquering a people if you can't show off by serving their agricultural products?  As an added touch, the dainty bites are wrapped in bacon; observing who at your party refuses them is a subtle way of learning which of your neighbors you should keep an eye out for.

Hot Coercive Crab Dip with Cheddar

This intrepid dip is classic hot crab and cheese fare, with an undeniably bold (or should I say, willful) touch of hot sauce.  Adorably, Paula recommends that one serve this dish with crackers, proving that she can take it just as well as she can dish it out.  (But honestly, what other demographic is apt to attend a cocktail party?)

On the same page as the recipe, our Heroic Hostess offers a brilliant tip for ensuring that no crab shell ends up in your finished dish: before preparing the dip, spread the crabmeat onto a baking sheet in an even layer, and place in an oven set to 200 degrees F; the heat will turn the shells red, making them much easier to pick out of the white meat.  Incidentally, this is a great tactic to use on your so-called friends, too: exposing them to extreme temperatures will lead even the most stoic and dedicated plant to out himself as a Red.


Shore is Good Seafood DipI didn't have to give this one a cutesy name... the work was done for me by a far more clever (and charming, beautiful, elegant, graceful, etc.) lady than myself.

FINALLY, an entire three recipes into the book, we are given a taste of God's greatest gift to mankind: butter.  Until I read this entry, I was beginning to think that the sinister lobby of Malnutrition Maoists had brainwashed our sweet lady, but I suppose she was just keeping us on our toes; I like to think she'd be proud of me for catching that one.

Rest assured, Ms. Deen does render the poisonous bell pepper, onion, and celery in this recipe inert and safe to eat by sauteeing them in liquid gold.  Cream of shrimp soup, mayonnaise, parmesan cheese, crabmeat, shrimp, and white pepper are added to flesh out the dish.  If, like me, you're already salivating and can't wait for the amount of time it would take to make this dish yourself, it is available all across Our Land in the frozen section of Costco retailers.  Only, please, buy the dip and then leave immediately; with its red sign and long lines one has to stand in to buy bread, I think you all know what that "co" is short for.



There you have it, my loves.  I feel more like myself than ever before after preparing and imbibing these meals.  I feel the plight of our people pressing hard... and I feel the imminent turn of the tide and our subsequent victory even stronger.

After I have a cigarette and a nap, of course.



Deliciously Despotic,

Seguin



Friday, July 12, 2013

Introduction: The Spinning of the Cocoon

O, Heavenly and unending Joy!  My Southern Cooking Bible (almost redundant, that title) has arrived this day!  You may notice that this post is being published several hours after the delivery of the post; this is because I spent the majority of the afternoon and evening passed out by the mailbox out of sheer ecstasy.  If that turtle hadn't crossed by to bite my toe, I might never have come to.  (I would have found use for him, but there is no recipe for turtle soup in this book, sadly.  The World Wildlife Fund is now doubly my enemy, after having stolen its acronym from the greatest sports team known to man.)

Due to extensive sun poisoning and the lateness of the hour, I am unfortunately unable to begin my cooking adventure at this time.  However, I have pored over every enchanting character of the introduction several times now.  Since I would hate to risk copyright violation (and, moreover, because we must ALL purchase this book in order to preserve Lady Deen's Glorious Empire), I have decided to share only the absolute choice bits, interspersed with my own humble musings, though it pains me to truncate our Heroine's efforts.

Lovely Paula's words will be here presented in purple lettering, to further emphasize her regality.  My own thoughts will be rendered in italics, to express my trance-like state at being brought closer to understanding Her Vision.

"Y'all know I was born and raised on Southern food and made my name sharing my version of down-home cooking with the world.  But the funny thing is that until I began to travel outside of my own little town of Albany, Georgia, I couldn't have told you what Southern cooking is all about."

Though I'm typically a staunch supporter of isolationism, I approve of Ms. Deen's efforts on this front; exploration is essential to the development of cuisine.  After all, if not for Iberian colonization of the New World and their subsequent discovery of the potato, the Belgians would never have been able to invent Freedom Fries.

"When I moved to Savannah as an adult, I learned mighty fast how differently folks eat there, with all the fruits of the sea--beautiful blue crab and sweet shrimp--just swimming right outside their back doors.  When I married Michael, I married into Savannah red rice, shrimp and grits, and a big old Low-Country boil full of seafood."

And when Michael married you, he made Prince Philip look downright useful by comparison.  Not that he could ever complain, being the luckiest of tag-along grooms.

"You haven't eaten Southern food until you've had a taste of the Tennessee mountains' stack cakes and chowchow..."

The Appalachians eat dogs?  I wasn't aware they had been infiltrated by Maoists.

"All of this good food comes out of a rich history.  In Louisiana, for instance, exiled French refugees known as the Acadians arrived in South Louisiana from Nova Scotia, Canada, in the mid-1700s."

Another reason to sever diplomatic ties with Canada: they sent their Frogs here to eat ours.

"Each time I learn something new about what all the great cooks of the South have simmering, I hold my head a little higher.  I am just so proud to count myself among them."

Nay, Lady, not among them; above them.

"Good, down-home Southern cooking isn't fancy, but when y'all sit down to a simple plate of crisp fried chicken; a fluffy, warm, just-buttered biscuit; a mess of greens cooked down with a bit of ham; and a tall, handsome banana cream pie topped with ice-cold whipped cream afterward, well, you'll have to agree: there is just nothing better."

I had never thought to describe that particular dessert as "handsome" before, but this is an undeniably powerful and apt description.  I wonder if there's any way I can call my fiance a "banana cream pie" without seeming to accuse him of being a homosexual.

"I could spend the rest of my days crisscrossing the states south of the Mason-Dixon line with my cast-iron skillet..."

Why not cross to the North with it, too, in order to smite carpetbaggers?

"Heck, you can get in a war down here over barbecue sauce..."

At the risk of harming our tourism industry, you will.

"In fact, even when times were hard, Southerners typically used their resourcefulness and the bounty of berry bushels, streams and brooks, and a kitchen garden to get them through.  So many of the beloved recipes in these pages were born through the combination of a talented cook and a scant pantry: flour, shortening, cornmeal, maybe a bit of smoked ham, and the occasional old laying hen, plus a bushel of homegrown fruits and vegetables.  These are the main ingredients in the majority of recipes in this book."

Times have been thus hard for Southerners since the never-ending cultural shaming known as "Reconstruction" was initiated.  And, lo and behold, how do they dethrone a successful Southern woman?  By trying to make her Righteous Authoritarianism sound like it's a bad thing.

"All my recipes are big on flavor--because in the South, as my mama always told me, your seasonings need to be scared of you, not the other way around."

My own mama told me the same thing about political dissidents.

"Now, Southerners can be big, loud, and passionate, and we are never more that way than when we're talking food."

Or talking political dissidents.


At the bottom of the last page of this Dear Dissertation lies Ms. Deen's signature; though in cursive, the strokes are upright, powerfully refusing to be stricken with shame or guilt at the hands of the Northern Scourge.  And, directly under the tail of the "n" (for "nationalism") lies a wry smiley face, subverting the subversive.

Hopefully, you the reader are now as eager as I am to delve into the gastronomical treasures contained within this album.  Ever Forward, fellow Eaters of the Epoch!


Peckish and Principled,

Seguin Womack

Saturday, July 6, 2013

The Onward March of Injustice

Dear Fellows in Truth,

Since my introductory post displayed such an eager desire to acquaint myself with the Deen Legacy, my ensuing silence must have you all confused.  Please be aware that this is not for any waning of interest on my part, but rather because, tragically, my more-than-cook book will not be arriving in the mail for some days to come.  Amazon has alerted me that this Tome of Transcendence is on back order; this is almost certainly the work of the Trotskyite hordes who seek to collect the works of our beloved Ms. Deen simply for the barbaric pleasure of immolating the blessed pages thereof.  To this I say, not in my back yard!  (I'm not referring to "back yard" in the broader sense of my community at large.  I have literally set bear traps baited with food stamps to capture any Leninists who might dare tread on my property.)

While I lament the delayed arrival of my purpose, I must also lament that Bobby Deen, host of the vile "Not My Mama's Meals," has not lost his Cooking Channel contract.  Indeed, Bobby, Paula Deen is not your mama; you have no mama, for she has no son.  "Not My Mama's Meals" is a program that seeks to strip Paula's recipes of their nutritional bounty; he dilutes them to the "healthy" standards dictated by a state that would have you stand in the bread line without even providing butter to spread on it.

I cannot classify the decision to retain his show as hypocrisy, because (and I cannot stress this enough) he clearly has no familial ties to Our Dear Chef.  Still, it pains my heart to see this mockery of the wondrous recipes she has provided to utilize the goods of Our Land remain on air.


With heavy heart and bated breath,

Seguin

Wednesday, July 3, 2013

The Destined Convergence of Kindred Souls

Dear Reader,

By stumbling across this blog, you have granted yourself the enormous pleasure of witnessing a great undertaking; you will see me enact the change needed to salvage Western civilization, and you will help me celebrate the life and work of the greatest patriot any of us will ever know.

First, a word of introduction.  My name is Seguin Womack, and I grew up a little Southern girl with a penchant for justice and down-home country cookin’.  I grew up to attain a degree in the pastry arts, all the while enjoying the works of various personalities on the Food Network.  Though it was certainly a pleasant diversion to observe the bumbling, pseudo-culinary tomfoolery of the likes of Mario Batali and Giada De Laurentiis, there was only one personality in the gastronomical field who was able to command my respect and admiration: the inimitable and iron-willed Ms. Paula Deen.

I always admired Deen and recognized a distinct je ne sais quoi of class and grace about her, but, to my shame, I failed to discern her true genius until she was recently outed as being… uncompromising.  You see, the divine Ms. D was accused of having used what the Marxists refer to as a “racial slur.”  Until a few weeks ago, I had no idea that she felt so passionately about preserving the land of our fathers.  With this knowledge in tow, I now have more determination than ever to emulate and embrace our dear Paula.  But how to go about this lofty goal?

My inaction at the beginning of her struggle against the rabble was a mixture of grief and fear of giving insufficient tribute.  Luckily, just last night, I came home to watch my sister viewing the film Julie and Julia.  The film is a cautionary tale against lunacy, as the main character, Julie, cooks her way through the works of Julia Child, and begins to admire her.  This is sickening, of course, because Julia Child was a treacherous, Francophilic giantess who probably never tasted black eyed peas in her life.  But I began thinking, what if a young woman were to extend similar devotion and scholarship to the works of a true genius of the age?  I realized quickly what my plan of action must be: I myself will devote my time to the study of Paula Deen’s comprehensive manifesto, The Southern Cooking Bible.


Now, dear Reader, please understand that I fully appreciate the gravity of my task, and that I certainly don’t consider myself anywhere near on par with the Paragon of Purity herself.  Rather, my goal is to enrich myself and our culture at large, while carefully honing the mind frame to do what is necessary.  I hope you will join me on my journey, and together, we can find a way to turn the sickle against its wielders.

Pro Dominus et Patria et Butyrum,

Seguin