Braving the stickiest of the sticky trips to the okra patch worth it for fresh, golden-fried batch

Around the table at the family gathering last weekend, the hot topic (and I do mean hot!) among those who had gardens was about picking okra--how on these scorcheroo days nobody can bear the thought of that necessary task.

Even the most seasoned gardeners were quietly admitting that they let days go by now without making a trek to their garden's okra "bushes". The sticky plants get even stickier in this Texas heat. Nobody can bear the thought of sweltering while getting attacked by thousands of little okra-skin prickles.

Miss a day now, and the okra pods are just too big and tough. But doggone it, that's what we've--and everyone else apparently has--been doing. The heat is just too stifling. The gargantuan okra pods have become rejects (a.k.a. gone into the pod-drying pile for seeds for next year.)

Tonight my guilty conscience--and my desire for just one more helping of summer staple Golden Fried Okra--got to me. Hubby answered my pitiful entreaty and dashed out to the okra rows, quickly cut what he could, threw the bigger ones into his "seed pile",and raced back in to take a birdbath and guzzle down some bottled water after the venture. The 20 pods he brought in were perfect for my eggwash and flour-cornmeal dusting before I popped them into a sizzling skillet.

I'm not promising what tomorrow might bring. With yet another 100-plus August day in store, we may become okra slackers again. But on tonight's dinner table was the freshest, goldenest fried okra you can imagine--worth every bit of trouble (Hubby to wife: "That's easy for you to say, since you weren't the picker!")

Golden Fried Okra

20 okra pods, washed and cut into 1/2-inch pieces

1 cup all-purpose flour

1 cup cornmeal

1 teaspoon salt (I used salt substitute)

1/2 teaspoon black pepper

1/4 teaspoon paprika

2 eggs, beaten (I used egg substitute)

olive oil

In medium-sized bowl beat eggs or pour egg substitute. In plastic zipper bag combine flour, cornmeal, salt, pepper, and paprika. Stir cut okra into egg until it is covered. Remove okra from egg and dip in flour mixture in the plastic bag until okra is thoroughly coated. Heat 1-inch oil in a large skillet. When oil is heated, remove coated okra to skillet. Fry in small batches until coating is golden brown and okra tender (about 5-7 minutes). Continue to fry in batches until all okra is fried. Drain on paper towels.

The Dog- (aka okra-pickin'-every-day) days of summer are here again

The hot, sticky, okra-pickin'-every-day, dog days of summer clearly are at hand.

In a predictable ritual now, each late afternoon Hubby exits carrying his paring knife, gloves, and plastic bag and heads to the garden to see what's ready on the okra rows.

To be usable for cooking at all, new okra pods must be removed quickly from the plant. Let them stay a day too long, and they're tough as leather; the knife can hardly hack its way through the pod to slice the okra to prepare for a meal. (When this happens, hubby throws the hardened okra on the ground, knowing the pod will leave seeds for the next year's garden.)

At this point many gardeners let their okra go to seed or chop down the mighty plants that by now are as tall as a person. Okra-pickin', at this stage, is not necessarily a joyful task. Sweltering days combined with the itchy okra leaves can make for some unpleasantness. Many okra-pickers find they must wear long-sleeves to avoid succumbing to the itchiness. Interestingly, cutting the okra is like deadheading a rose or a geranium--removing the new pods simply makes more grow in their place.

But I have far too many favorite as well as untried okra recipes remaining in my file to turn my back on this harvest. (As I mentioned in an earlier blog, on years that we don't grow okra, we always regret the lack thereof.)

Plus in my refrigerator I had some ears of fresh corn that needed to be used up in a recipe. Hubby's most recent trek to the garden gave me reason to prepare Okra Creole, a divine veggie combination (okra, corn, tomatoes, onion, green peppers) that holds a place of honor in my new cookbook, Way Back in the Country Garden. (In the Vegetable Side section of the cookbook it is the first one listed.)

Hubby and I used it to top some leftover pasta we had in the refrigerator. The next night (we loved it so much, we prepared it two nights in a row--with fresh okra each night) we served it over crumbled (low-sodium) tortilla chips. For tonight's leftovers we may serve it over brown rice, but it's wonderful on its own without using it as any kind of extras.

With more dog/okra days undoubtedly ahead, many more trips to the okra "grove" undoubtedly are in Hubby's future.

Okra Creole

3 or 4 slices bacon (I use turkey bacon)

1/2 cup chopped onion

1 green pepper, chopped

3 tablespoons bacon drippings (I use 3 tablespoons olive oil)

18 okra pods, sliced

2 fresh tomatoes, sliced, or 1 cup canned tomatoes, undrained (if canned, I use the no-salt-added variety)

1 cup fresh corn

1/2 teaspoon salt (I use salt substitute)

1/2 teaspoon cajun seasoning (I use salt-free, such as Mrs. Dash)

In large skillet fry 3 or 4 slice bacon. Reserve 3 tablespoons bacon drippings and let it remain in skillet. Crumble bacon. In skillet saute onion and pepper. Return crumbled bacon to skillet. Add sliced okra pods, tomatoes, corn, and seasonings. Simmer covered for 15 minutes.

Looks like a summer of "love" for that slimy, Southern vegetable

Okra is one of those garden-yield items that inspires a loathe/love relationship.

To begin with, it doesn't yield itself up easily. Unlike tomatoes, cucumbers, or peaches that you simply gently pluck from the stalk with a slight flick of the wrist, okra must be cut (read that "sawed") away with a knife, which means that the picker must arrive at the garden "armed" if okra is desired.

The okra leaves are itchy, so hot summer days (the only time okra presents itself to be picked) make communing with the okra plant an often-unpleasant experience. Even when you wear gloves, you can hardly wait to get inside to wash off your arms.

Then, this stereotypically Southern plant, putting it bluntly, is gooey and slimy when it's first sliced. Many people don't get beyond that fact. Slimy okra gumbo is one recipe option when okra is an ingredient. It's not the only option by any means, but the slithery texture makes a permanent impression on those already suspicious of this vegetable. I love what Wikipedia says about okra: some cooks prefer to "minimize" its characteristic "sliminess."

On the "love" side, if properly prepared, okra wins kids' kudos early on. Both my children always selected fried okra, with an inch of crispy breading, of course, above just about anything else for their "sides"--one way to get veggies down the younger set, even if it is fried in an inch of grease.

Our last "love" okra crop was in the summer of 2005. I acquired more okra recipes than I have hairs on my head (definitely more recipes than the hairs on my hubby's head.) My recipe for Grandma's Fried Okra, which hubby found on the Internet but said it was a replica of his mother's, was added to my collection that summer.

The year 2005 started off good, but soon we had so much okra growing, we couldn't cut it fast enough. Then when we cut it, we couldn't eat it fast enough or even give it away to friends and neighbors. One neighbor, rather impolitely, asked us not to offer any "more" since he was overwhelmed with our generosity. The uncut okra then went to seed and continued to produce more plants; six-foot-tall vines soon took over.

My husband refused to plant any okra in the summer of 2006 and even pulled up stalks that rose from seeds left over from the previous year.

Summer of 2007 was Texas' memorable monsoon year. All crops washed out, including our prize peach trees (more about that in my next blog). The following summer we didn't even try, because our soil was leached out so badly from the '07 floods. Last year we planted okra, but none grew. By then we were regretting not having okra around. We vowed that 2010 would be "the" year again.

If our first "picking" is any indication, this year, indeed, okra is our new best friend. Last night's meal featuring Grandma's Fried Okra, which also uses potatoes, green peppers and onions, was memorable indeed. After that I've got recipes for Sauteed Okra, Corn, and Tomatoes and Okra Creole, both from my new Way Back in the Country Garden cookbook, waiting in the wings.

The ubiquitous challenge: picking ("sawing") and using it the minute it becomes ripe, which means frequent trips to that sticky corner of the garden. The payoff: falling in "love" with okra all over again.

Grandma's Fried Okra

Okra (about 20 pods)

3 medium potatoes (could be mix of redskin and Irish potatoes)

cornmeal

1 teaspoon salt

black pepper

1/2 cup chopped green peppers

1/4 cup olive oil

Slice okra into 1-inch rounds. Chop potatoes into small cubes. Chop onions and green peppers until fine. Dust okra in corn meal. In skillet fry okra in hot olive oil until okra is brown. Add potatoes, onions, and green pepper. Cook until vegetables are tender. (May need to cover skillet with lid until vegetables cook.) Remove lid. Add salt and pepper to taste. Cook with lid removed until vegetables crispen up.