Appalachian Word of the Week -- OKREE

OKREE (Okra) is one of those foods you either love or hate.

During my childhood, I could only tolerate it if it was dusted with a mixture of half flour and half cornmeal and fried in a black iron skillet. Of course, as in all things, we added a sprinkling of salt and pepper to the mix. Then it fried until all the slime was gone and it was golden brown.

Later in life, I attempted to eat it in soups or combined with stewed tomatoes. Nope. My OKREE (I called it okra) had to be fried. I could not handle that slimy mushiness. YUCK!

Although I and many of my friends called it okra, the older folks (like my dad) referred to it as OKREE.

OKREE (Okra) flower

Daddy always planted a row or two of OKREE plants in our hillside garden. The plants grew quite tall--taller than me. I loved the soft yellow flowers that preceded the pods of OKREE. I wanted to pick some, but Daddy wagged his finger at me and said, "If'n you pick them flares, you won't get no OKREE." So, I controlled my urge and admired them from a distance.

When the pods were just the right size, according to Daddy, we picked a mess and took them inside to Mom. I got to rinse the dirt off before Mom sliced them. The sensation of the tiny hairs on my fingers made me think they would stick into my fingers like tiny needles. They didn't hurt, just felt weird. After rinsing, I remember having to sop up the water so the outside of the pod didn't get slimy. The tiny white seeds inside fascinated me as Mom sliced the OKREE.

Fried OKREE

The smells of OKREE cooking made my tummy gurgle with delight. No matter what else we had for supper, I dug into the crispy morsels with gusto.

At the end of the growing season, like about now, there wasn't enough OKREE left to gather a whole mess. So, we'd search for a few scrawny green tomatoes still clinging to the vines and combine the tomatoes and OKREE into one fair-sized mess. Instead of slicing the tomatoes, Mom or Dad (he was a fabulous cook) would dice them into cubes and add them to the OKREE. Of course, they first dusted them with the flour/meal mixture.

Sometimes, I make a mixture today, even if I have plenty of the ingredients to make a full mess of either one. The tomato adds a tanginess to the mix. Makes for a satisfying dish, for sure.

Sliced OKREE (okra)

After writing this post, I've decided I need to fry up a mess of OKREE for my dinner tonight. It's sitting in there waiting for me. Come to think of it, I've got a couple of green tomatoes in the fridge, too.

I'm going to have a fabulous supper.

How about you?

Did you grow up eating OKREE? Or okra? Did you love it or hate it? Do you ever eat it today? I'd like to hear about your memories.