True South

Candy Hierarchy

All sweets aren’t born equal

By Susan S. Kelly

Did you come by my house on Halloween? You know, the one with no pumpkin on the stoop, no lights on, and a Grinch upstairs watching Netflix behind the shutters? I loathe Halloween, and with grown children, am now able to confess as much.

I do, however, love candy, and since you’re still picking Nestlé Crunch wrappers from your children’s pockets or out of your dryer lint trap, now seems as good as time as any for a little treatise on the topic.

Blaming a parent for obsessions — never mind neuroses — is always convenient. I grew up in an era when mothers thought nothing of buying six packs of candy bars for dessert, the same way they thought nothing of serving syrupy pineapple slices straight from a Del Monte can. Hence my first true love: Black Cow suckers, which, tragically, are nearly impossible to find these days.

I like Common Candy. By “common,” I mean common to convenience store aisles. Caramel Creams. Tootsie Rolls. Tootsie Roll Pops. Sugar Daddies. BB Bats. Kits. I like the cheap stuff, the fake stuff. And while my preferences are common, they’re not as common as my husband’s, who’ll actually buy and eat those jellied things called Orange Slices. Again, blame the previous generation.

As a child among a dozen first cousins at their lake house, my husband’s grandfather took the passel of them each day to the gas station and let them pick out a piece of candy. If that ain’t cheap entertainment, I don’t know what is, and I plan to do the same thing with my grandchildren as soon as they get enough teeth in their head to rot. One friend has a candy drawer in her kitchen especially for her grandchildren. Now, that falls in the Great Grandparent category, beating Tweetsie Railroad or some old butterfly garden like a drum. Plus, I know where the drawer is.

Like Mikey in the old Life cereal advertisements, my husband will eat anything even slightly candy-like, including peppermints. The only people who consider peppermints candy and not breath mints are children with candy canes at Christmas. I had a boarding school friend who ate Mentos like popcorn. I can still see her putting her thumb in the roll and wedging one out. Mentos are not candy. They were precursors to Tic Tacs. Peppermints are desperation candy in the same way that my sister thinks meatloaf is Depression food. Then again, I absolutely love meatloaf, which means that I keep a bowl of peppermints available for my husband. Each to his own tastes.

Has anyone ever even eaten a Zero bar but me? It’s a personal process. You peel off the waxy white coating with your front teeth, then the fake chocolate nougat, and finally, the peanuts, or almonds or whatever they are, after you dissolve the caramel they’re embedded in. This process may explain why I can’t eat M&Ms. The way I eat M&Ms, after about a dozen, my tongue has started to get raw and cracked, the way it did as a child with Sweet Tarts. Plus, milk chocolate. Eh.

Higher up on my candy food chain: Snickers. Milky Way. Mounds. Rolos. 3 Musketeers. Yup.

Beneath discussion: marshmallow peanuts and Peeps. Easter candy is a bust in general.

Sweet Tarts = not candy. Also not candy: Reese’s cups. Butterfingers. Paydays. Junior Mints. Too much peanut butter, peanuts, and, again, peppermint. Still, in a pinch I’ll eat most of those, the same way you’ll settle for a Fig Newton if there are no real cookies around. Red Hots don’t really qualify as candy either, but they definitely qualify as common. Where else but the place where I get my tires rotated could I find a vending machine that cranks out a handful of Hot Tamales for a quarter? Not a fan of Pixie Stix — why not just buy a packet of Kool-Aid, sprinkle some powder in your palm, and lick it off? — but I’ve always loved those disgusting four-packs of Nik-L-Nips and the oversized wax lips only available at (you guessed it) Halloween.

Seeing a pattern here? Clearly, I favor candy with taffy, teeth-pulling textures. Caramels, nougats, taffy itself, fudgy chocolate like a Tootsie Roll, Laffy Taffy. Milk Duds. Bit-O-Honey. Starburst in a pinch. For one birthday, a friend gave me a 12-pack of Sugar Daddys — vastly preferable to Sugar Babies — which I take to the movies. That (literal) sucker lasts the whole movie, especially if you eat the paper stick too, as I do. Nothing better than a spit-and-sugar soaked stick.

I totally do not get Skittles, but I’ll buy a Costco jar the size of those things pink pickled eggs are usually found in if it’s filled with Jelly Bellys.

But Jolly Ranchers? I’m not much on hard candy. Hard candy is for colonoscopy prep.

Fancy-pants products from “chocolatiers” are trying too hard. Just keep your Toblerone and Godiva. Riesens are as upscale as I get. Nor have I ever understood Necco wafers, Pez, or Valentine hearts. Why not just eat chalk? Same thing for those elastic band necklaces strung with pastel candy discs that you eat while wearing it, though I admire the concept.

You know that friend with the candy drawer? She keeps all her Halloween candy corn that’s gone rock hard for me. I love the stuff, and candy just doesn’t get any more common. So don’t think poorly of my October 31 antipathy. My attitude concerns the costumes, not the candy. Besides, I just love All Saints Day on November 1. Almost as much as I love Cow Tales. PS

Susan S. Kelly is a blithe spirit, author of several novels, and a proud grandmother.

Good Natured

The Original Red Meat

A bit of bison for the holidays

By Karen Frye

The image of buffalo roaming across the prairie is an iconic symbol of the American landscape in the 1800s before the pioneers moved in. Bison meat was good for people back then, and it is in demand even more in recent years because of its high nutritional value.

Ranchers today are committed to raising their herds naturally and work hard to accommodate the natural behaviors of the bison, allowing them to roam freely. The U.S. Department of Agriculture does not allow bison to be raised using growth hormones. The National Bison Association’s code of ethics prohibits the feeding of antibiotics, crossbreeding, in-vitro fertilization or other artificial practices. This code of ethics requires ranchers to respect and conserve the natural and cultural heritage while striving to improve the quality of the buffalos’ lives.

These naturally raised bison interact with their environment as nature intended — promoting healthy ecosystems and animals. This is a far cry from the standards of the commercial factory farming methods.

Bison meat is naturally flavorful, tender, nutrient dense, high in minerals, and lower in fat and cholesterol than beef, chicken and even salmon. It’s also higher in protein, iron and B12, and a very good source of healthy fatty acids, like omega 3.

Sales of bison meat have steadily increased as people discover that it is not only healthy and delicious, but also environmentally friendly. You can substitute it for beef in recipes, but beware — it is lower in fat, so be careful not to overcook it.

The popularity of Keto and Paleo diets have increased the demand for ways to get the healthy protein people need on these diets. Bison is a great choice when planning the menu for the holidays. There are many recipes available using ground bison, bison steaks and roasts. I have been using bison for years and find it delicious and easy to prepare.

Here is a great recipe that would be perfect for your holiday party:

Oven-Roasted Bison Meatballs

Ingredients:

1 pound ground bison

1/2 cup finely chopped mushrooms

1/3 cup finely chopped red onion

1 egg, beaten

2 cloves minced garlic

1 teaspoon salt

1 teaspoon black pepper

1 teaspoon Italian seasoning

In a medium bowl combine all ingredients. Mix until well blended. Form into 24 meatballs, about the size of a walnut. Line a baking sheet with parchment paper or lightly oil. Place the meatballs on the pan and roast in a preheated 400-degree oven for 10 minutes. Serve with dipping sauce.

Dipping Sauce:

2/3 cup mayonnaise

1/3 Dijon mustard

3 tablespoons chopped green onions

Combine ingredients in a small bowl, stir to blend. Makes 1 cup.

Give it a try this holiday. Surprise your family and friends with this delicious, healthy alternative.  PS

Karen Frye is the owner and founder of Nature’s Own and teaches yoga at the Bikram Yoga Studio.

The Omnivorous Reader

The Transformation of a University

Two presidents elevate an institution

By D.G. Martin

Looking back 100 years to the situation at the University of North Carolina at the end of World War I might give a little comfort to current-day supporters of its successors, the University of North Carolina System and the campus at UNC-Chapel Hill.

The system is looking for a new president to replace former President Margaret Spellings, who left March 1, and for the acting president, Bill Roper, who plans to step down not later than the middle of next year. Meanwhile, UNC-Chapel Hill is searching for a new chancellor to replace Carol Folt, who departed Jan. 15.

Both Spellings and Folt had been unable to work out a good relationship with the university system’s board of governors and the legislature.

In 1919, the university’s situation was, arguably, even more severe. It was reeling from the recent death of its young and inspirational president, Edward Kidder Graham, and facing the challenges of dealing with an inadequate and worn-out set of campus buildings, along with a post-war explosion of enrollees. Meeting those challenges became the responsibility of Graham’s successor, Harry Woodburn Chase.

Graham had been UNC’s president from 1913, when he was named acting president, until his death in 1918, a victim of the flu epidemic that scorched the nation at the end of World War I.

The Coates University Leadership Series published by UNC Libraries recently released Fire and Stone: The Making of the University of North Carolina under Presidents Edward Kidder Graham and Harry Woodburn Chase. The book’s author, Greensboro’s Howard Covington, explains how the “fire” of Graham and the “stone” of his successor, Chase, transformed UNC from a quiet liberal arts institution into a respected university equipped to provide an academic experience that prepared students to participate in a growing commercial, industrial, and agricultural New South.

At the time Graham became president, approximately 1,000 students were enrolled. The campus consisted primarily of a few buildings gathered around the South Building and Old Well. Classrooms and living quarters were crowded and in bad condition.

In his brief time as president, the youthful and charismatic Graham pushed the university to reach out across the state. Speaking at churches, alumni gatherings, farmers’ groups and wherever a place was open to him, he preached that universities should help identify the state’s problems and opportunities, and then devote its resources to respond to them. 

He coined the phrase “The boundaries of the university should be ‘coterminous’ with the boundaries of the state.” These words came from a University Day speech by Graham, although he used the term “coextensive” rather than “coterminous.”

Leaders and supporters of the university often use this language to embrace a wider partnership with the entire state. He traveled throughout the state and delivered moving speeches about the role of education in improving the lives of North Carolinians.

Graham’s ambitious plans to transform the university were interrupted by World War I when the campus and its programs were, at first, disrupted and then commandeered by the military. His death shortly after the war ended left the university without a magnetic and motivational figure to carry out his plans and vision. That task fell upon Henry Chase, a native of Massachusetts, who had gained Graham’s trust as a teacher and talented academic leader.

Although he did not have Graham’s charisma, Chase had something else that made him an appropriate successor to the visionary Graham. He had an academic background, and a talent for recruiting faculty members who supported Graham’s and Chase’s vision for a university equipped to serve the state and gain recognition as a leading institution.

Chase had the plans, but lacked sufficient resources from the state. However, he had an energetic organizer in the form of Frank Porter Graham, a cousin of Ed Graham and a junior faculty member.

In 1921, Frank Graham helped mobilize the university’s friends that Ed Graham had inspired. Covington writes, “The campaign had been flawless. The state had never seen such an uprising of average citizens who had come together so quickly behind a common cause. Earlier rallies around education had been directed from the top down, with a political figure in the lead. This time, the people were ahead of their political leaders, who eventually came on board.”

Chase took advantage of the public pressure on the legislature to secure the resources to expand the campus. He organized and found support for university programs that included the graduate and professional training needed to serve the public throughout the state, as Ed Graham had hoped. 

By 1930, when Chase left UNC to lead the University of Illinois, the UNC campus had more than doubled in size, and the student body approached 3,000, including 200 graduate students. His successor was Frank Graham. 

Chase’s ride to success had been a bumpy one. For instance, in 1925, about the time of the Scopes-evolution trial in Tennessee, Chase faced a similar uprising in North Carolina from religious leaders who attacked the university because some science instructors were teaching Darwin’s theory of evolution. 

The state legislature considered and came close to passing a law to prohibit teaching of evolution. During the hearings on the proposal, one such professor, Collier Cobb, planned to attend to explain and defend Darwin’s theories.

Covington writes that Chase told Cobb to stay in Chapel Hill because “it would be better for me to be the ‘Goat,’ if one is necessary on that occasion than for a man who is known to be teaching evolution to be put into a position where he might have to defend himself.”

Chase respectfully told the committee that he was not a scientist. Rather, he was an educator and he could speak on the importance of the freedom of the mind. He also countered the proposal by emphasizing the point that Christianity was at the university’s core. His strong defense of freedom of speech gained him admiration of the faculty and many people throughout the state.

But his defense of freedom was not absolute. He could be practical. When Cobb wrote a book about evolution and the newly organized UNC Press planned to publish it, Chase vetoed the idea. He explained that the book “would be regarded by our enemies as a challenge thrown down and by our friends as an unnecessary addition to their burdens.”

Chase explained, “The purposes for which we must contend are so large, and the importance of victory so great, that I think we can well afford for the moment to refrain from doing anything, when no matter of principles is involved, that tends to raise the issue in any concrete form, or which might add to the perplexities of those who will have to be on the firing line for the University during these next few months.” 

Chase’s pragmatic handling of a delicate situation showed how academic leaders, perhaps all leaders, sometimes have to temper their principles in the interest of achieving their goals.

Covington writes that Chase “took the flame that Graham had ignited and used it to build a university and move it into the mainstream of American higher education.” 

Without Ed Graham’s fire and Chase’s stone, UNC would not have become what it is today, one of the most admired universities in the country. 

Robert Anthony, curator of the North Carolina Collection at UNC-Chapel Hill’s Wilson Library, asserts that there is a wider lesson. He writes, “In this thoughtful, skillfully written examination of the University and its two leaders during the earliest decades of the 20th century, Howard Covington reminds us that individuals with vision and determination can make a difference.”  PS

D.G. Martin hosts North Carolina Bookwatch Sunday at 11 a.m. and Tuesday at 5 p.m. on UNC-TV. The program also airs on the North Carolina Channel Tuesday at 8 p.m. To view prior programs go to http://video.unctv.org/show/nc-bookwatch/episodes/

Bookshelf November

November Books

NONFICTION

Finding Chika, by Mitch Albom

The best-selling author returns to nonfiction for the first time in more than a decade in this poignant memoir that celebrates Chika, a young Haitian orphan whose short life would forever change his heart. Told in hindsight, and through illuminating conversations with Chika herself, this is Albom at his most poignant and vulnerable. Finding Chika is a celebration of a girl, her adoptive guardians, and the incredible bond they form — a devastatingly beautiful portrait of what it means to be a family, regardless of how it is made.

The Fall of Richard Nixon, by Tom Brokaw

The NBC News White House correspondent during the final year of Watergate, Brokaw writes of justice and judgment, in this nuanced and thoughtful chronicle, a close-up, personal account of the players, the strategies, and the highs and lows of the scandal that brought down a president. He recounts Nixon’s claims of executive privilege to withhold White House tape recordings of Oval Office conversations; the bribery scandal that led to the resignation of Vice President Spiro Agnew and the choice of Gerald Ford as vice president; Nixon’s firing of Special Prosecutor Archibald Cox; travels with Henry Kissinger and how Nixon organized emergency relief for Israel during the Yom Kippur War in the midst of Watergate; Nixon’s “I am not a crook” speech; the unanimous decision of the Supreme Court that required Nixon to turn over the tapes; and other insider moments from this important and dramatic period.

Our Wild Calling: How Connecting with Animals Can Transform Our Lives — and Save Theirs, by Richard Louv

Louv’s landmark book, Last Child in the Woods, inspired an international movement to connect children and nature. Our Wild Calling makes the case for protecting, promoting and creating a sustainable and shared habitat for all creatures — not out of fear, but out of love. Transformative and inspiring, this book points us toward what we all long for in the age of technology: real connection. Louv interviews researchers, theologians, wildlife experts, indigenous healers, psychologists and others to show how people are communicating with animals in ancient and new ways; how dogs can teach children ethical behavior; how animal-assisted therapy may yet transform the mental health field; and what role the human-animal relationship plays in our spiritual health.

Little Weirds, by Jenny Slate

This collection of essays is a little weird — and very funny. Slate, who won the 2014 Critics Choice Award for Best Actress in a Comedy, was a literature major at Columbia University, where she helped form the improv group Fruit Paunch. She was a cast member on Saturday Night Live, a regular on the Jimmy Fallon Show and had a recurring role on Bored to Death. 

The Cartiers: The Untold Story of the Family Behind the Jewelry Empire, by Francesca Cartier Brickell

At the heart of this revealing tale of a jewelry dynasty — four generations, from revolutionary France to the 1970s — are the three brothers whose motto was “never copy, only create.” Thanks to their unique and complementary talents, they made their family firm internationally famous in the early days of the 20th century. Brickell, whose great-grandfather was the youngest of the Cartier brothers, has traveled the world researching her family’s history, tracking down those connected with her ancestors and discovering long-lost pieces of the puzzle along the way. This book is a magnificent, epic social history shown through the deeply personal lens of a legendary family.

Sam Houston and the Alamo Avengers: The Texas Victory that Changed American History, by Brian Kilmeade

Recapturing this pivotal war that changed America forever, Kilmeade sheds light on the tightrope all war heroes walk between courage and calculation. Thanks to his storytelling, a new generation of readers will remember the Alamo. In March of 1836 Gen. Santa Anna led the Mexican Army in a massacre of more than 200 Texians, including Jim Bowie and Davey Crockett, besieged in a tiny adobe mission for 13 days. The defeat galvanized the surviving Texians, commanded by Sam Houston, who led them to a shocking victory in the Battle of San Jacinto, securing their freedom and paving the way for America’s growth.

FICTION

On Swift Horses, by Shannon Pufahl

Muriel is newly married and restless, transplanted from her rural Kansas hometown to life in a dusty bungalow in San Diego. She begins slipping off to the Del Mar racetrack to bet and eavesdrop, learning the language of horses and gambling. Her freethinking mother died before Muriel’s 19th birthday and her brother-in-law, Julius, is testing his fate in Las Vegas, working at a local casino, where he falls in love with Henry while the tourists watch atomic tests from the rooftop. When Henry is run out of town as a young card cheat, Julius takes off to search for him in the plazas and dives of Tijuana, trading one city of dangerous illusions and indiscretions for another.

CHILDREN’S BOOKS

Beverly, Right Here, by Kate DiCamillo

In a crooked little house by a crooked little sea, a hardened young teen finds compassion, friends, family and the beginnings of a lightness of spirit that compels her to move forward and to reach back. She finds the courage to let people in and to open up to the world of possibility. In her signature style, the two-time Newbery-winning National Book Award honoree has again brought to life a story raw, incredibly sweet and sure to stick with the reader long after the final page. Fans of all of DiCamillo’s books are invited to meet her Friday, Jan. 10, at 5:30 p.m. at the Southern Pines Elementary School auditorium, 255 S. May Street. Sponsored by The Country Bookshop, tickets are available at www.ticketmesandhills.com. (Ages 10-14.)

Juno Valentine and the Fantastic Fashion Adventure, by Eva Chen

This second book from Instagram fashion superstar Eva Chen is part girl power, part history lesson and all fun! When Juno Valentine cannot decide what to wear for picture day, she gets help from her mom and her dad but also (with the help of her magic shoes) from Michelle Obama, Simone Biles and Audrey Hepburn. Perfect for back-to-school or any time a young listener might need a self-confidence boost. (Ages 4-7.)

The Crayons’ Christmas, by Drew Daywalt and Oliver Jeffers

’Tis the season for wish lists and holiday giving but everyone knows the best gifts are the ones you give. Duncan and all the crayons from the beloved The Day the Crayons Quit are back in this delightful holiday title that includes punch-out ornaments, letters to unfold and read and a pop-up Christmas tree.  This little gem is sure to be a new holiday favorite.  (Ages 4-8.)

Allies, by Alan Gratz

The ever-amazing master of historical fiction, Gratz has crafted another masterpiece. From land, air and sea, Allies follows the lives of four young people through the 24-hour period that will forever change their lives and the lives of so many others. Gratz fans of all ages will devour this one in one big gulp. (Ages 12 and up.)

Charlie Hernandez and the League of Shadows, by Ryan Calejo

Charlie Hernandez heard Hispanic myths from his abuela since he was a very young boy. He always thought that the myths were just that — fun stories meant to entertain. Then, his parents disappeared, his house burned down, and to top it all off, he grew a pair of horns. Now, Charlie suspects his grandmother was not merely entertaining him; she was preparing him. To find out what is really going on, Charlie teams up with his school’s best investigative reporter (and his crush), Violet Rey. Together they embark on an adventure that will change their lives. From talking skeletons to witches and queens, they both will have to come to terms with their new reality and learn how to survive in it. Review by Annabelle Black. (Ages 10-14.)  PS

Compiled by Kimberly Daniels Taws and Angie Tally

 

Hometown

Fallback Position

Saving a season of discontent

By Bill Fields

As the Washington Redskins dropped their fourth straight game in the early stages of another lousy NFL season on the same weekend my alma mater North Carolina came heartbreakingly close to beating Clemson, I had one thought: Thank goodness for Ohio State.

There is no way that sentence could have come from my keyboard prior to 2013, when I started dating Ohio-born Jen, whose sporting interests start and end with Buckeye football. They were her parents’ favorite and quickly became her team, too. Jen keeps track of the Buckeyes like a meteorologist watching a hurricane, then, when college football season is over, contentedly returns to reading, cooking or needlepoint.

Since Ohio State wins regularly, it wasn’t a hard sell for me to become a fan, because who wants scoreboards making them sad several months a year? Washington has had only nine winning seasons since 1991, and although things are looking up for the Tar Heels with the return of coach Mack Brown, he is not a miracle worker.

I’m not going to abandon my NFL favorite despite their owner or their nickname, both of which are problematic. I have rooted for Washington since Sonny Jurgensen was passing to Charley Taylor and still have the Sonny-signed 8×10 I sent away for. I had NFL bed sheets, a Redskins toboggan and jacket, and was glued to the television every time they played.

During my childhood of fandom, Washington didn’t have a winning record until I was 10. But the Jurgensen-led offense could always move the ball, as evidenced in a 72-41 victory over the New York Giants in 1966, the 115 total points still an NFL regular season record.

I remember well the joy of the 1983 Super Bowl, when Washington finally won the big one. I drove to Charlotte to watch the game with my friends Brad and Lynne, Brad having grown up in the D.C. area and been a long-suffering fan like me. Washington was Super Bowl champion again in 1988 and 1992. In that decade I was well rewarded for many years of football futility, but recently, with the wayward team management, those highlight memories seem very distant.

The Tar Heels played some of their finest football when I was in school at Chapel Hill, no surprise given their roster included Lawrence Taylor on defense and Kelvin Bryant on offense. Although I was typing for The Daily Tar Heel, which ruled out face paint or a flask in Kenan Stadium, those were heady days. In 1980, when UNC was 7-0 and traveled to perennially good Oklahoma, there hardly had been a bigger Carolina football game.

Alas, the Dick Crum-coached Tar Heels were humbled, 41-7, but there was so much interest in the contest I was able to string for a couple of newspapers and make a few bucks to spend at the Porthole and He’s Not Here. Carolina won the rest of its games that season, concluding with a victory over Texas in the Bluebonnet Bowl, the only time I was in the Astrodome.

After meeting Jen, I soon discovered that despite her longtime allegiance she had never attended an Ohio State game at “The Shoe.” We remedied that in 2016, driving to Columbus to watch OSU play Bowling Green State University. Jen was like Ned Beatty’s character in Rudy, finally going to a Notre Dame game after many seasons of watching on TV. Our seats were way up high, but the Buckeyes and The Best Damn Band in the Land were great, and so was the weather, gloriously warm and sunny. Final score: Ohio State 77, Bowling Green 10.

The Buckeyes were scoring plenty of points in their early games this season, guided by quarterback Justin Fields, whose name makes their games even more fun for this fan. Come the Saturday after Thanksgiving, Jen and I will be in front of a television for Ohio State-Michigan. It’ll never be Carolina-Duke hoops for me, but I’m happy “The Game” is at least a little bit my game too.  PS

Southern Pines native Bill Fields, who writes about golf and other things, moved north in 1986 but hasn’t lost his accent.

Wine Country

Syrah Weather

Time for Thanksgiving and a fuller flavor

By Angela Sanchez

I love November. Sweater weather, falling leaves and cooler, crisper air. It also means a change in what I like to drink and, of course, I love deciding what to pair with Thanksgiving.

When the temperature turns down and the light of day gets a little dimmer, it’s time for wine that reflects the atmosphere. While I don’t recommend drinking pumpkin-spiced wine (although I do love a great, well-made pumpkin-flavored porter or stout beer), I do look for wines with a richer, darker, fuller flavor than what is called for during warmer months.

One of my all-time favorite wines for fall and Thanksgiving is syrah, or shiraz. It’s the same grape, just called different things in different growing regions. In general, Southern Hemisphere growing regions like Australia, New Zealand and South Africa will refer to their wines as shiraz, while Northern Hemisphere producers in Europe and the United States will call their wines syrah.

It’s a red grape that has rich, dark berry and cherry, chocolate and a hint of pepper spice flavors. Sounds like fall to me. The grape produces a low tannin wine with a round mouth feel that is still “big” without being overpowering.

For a great value I look to the Southern Hemisphere. Nine Stones Shiraz from the Barossa Valley in Australia is a medium-bodied wine with a little hint of eucalyptus and cocoa. A warm, continental climate like the Barossa Valley’s allows for wines with more power and black pepper than cooler areas.

For a bigger, richer style, Fess Parker Syrah from Santa Barbara County, California, is rich and concentrated without being too much for the Thanksgiving turkey. Syrah grapes from the Santa Rita AVA (American Viticultural Area) benefit from the combination of steady and continuous breezes coming off the Pacific, and the dense fog that rolls in over the mountains, keeping the vines protected from the heavy sun, and allowing for ideal ripening.

Both wines will shine next to all kinds of other holiday meats, too, especially beef, and my favorite, syrah-braised lamb shank. For a starter, pair with a tasty, tangy goat cheese like Cypress Groves Bermuda Triangle. Drizzle with a little honey and serve with dried cherries.

When the leaves cover the ground, there’s a chill in the air and we are preparing for the rush of the holidays, I still like to relax with a glass of white wine after a long day. Trying something a little off-dry this time of year pairs perfectly with autumn-spiced desserts, like spice cake, and rich hearty dishes.

I love the diversity of riesling. While many rieslings are off-dry — slightly sweet — many are dry. An off-dry style like Fess Parker Santa Barbara County Riesling is bright, light and fruity on the palate and nose. Hints of traditional stone fruits and citrus blossoms, backed with a touch of acidity, make the wine light enough but structured, complementing heavy sides like vegetable casseroles and stuffing at the Thanksgiving table. It can follow you to the dessert table or help you start the meal off. Pair it with Purple Haze, a fresh goat cheese made in Northern California, that has added lavender and fennel pollen. The racy bite of the goat cheese and its floral notes help to balance the fruity wine. For dessert, a pineapple upside-down cake or carrot cake both have the richness to cut through the slightly sweet, slightly acidic characteristics of the riesling.

If you haven’t had a riesling from Northern Italy, this is the time of year to try one. The rieslings of this area are rich and complex. The cooler climate and heavily mineral-driven soils make for wines with more petrol on the nose and rounder, slightly viscous palates. Lemon curd and lemon zest characteristics in Roeno Riesling from Trento, Italy, are a nice accompaniment to the richness of fried turkey and mashed potatoes at Thanksgiving. The acidity and minerality of the wine pair nicely with a robust cheese like Appalachian, made in the foothills of the Appalachian Mountains by Meadow Creek Dairy. A house style “tomme” cheese made with raw milk from grass-fed cows is buttery, herbal and nutty this time of year from the richness of the summer milk.

Heed the call of syrah and riesling this fall, and be grateful it’s finally cool enough to stuff ourselves!  PS

Angela Sanchez owns Southern Whey, a cheese-centric specialty food store in Southern Pines, with her husband, Chris Abbey. She was in the wine industry for 20 years and lucky enough to travel the world drinking wine and eating cheese.

The Kitchen Garden

Hot Time

One last rush of fall peppers

By Jan Leitschuh

Pepper abundance time is now. Take advantage.

Enjoy October’s cooler weather, after this summer’s scalding sweat bath. Pepper plants revel in the easier temperatures, desperately throwing out lots of new fruits this time of year.

If you have a little vegetable plot, and it includes sweet bell peppers — or peppers of any type — chances are your counter is overflowing right now with jalapeños, sweet bells, habaneros, Anaheim chilies and more. 

What to do?

Don’t argue with the prosperity! Peppers of all types are expensive in winter. Chop and freeze for winter fajitas, pizza toppings, veggie soups, Italian dishes and chili, of course. Hot pepper jam is amazing on cream cheese and crackers all winter long. And roast some sweet red bells on the grill, or in the oven.

It’s a funny thing, this crazy fall pepper flush. 

Young pepper plants are warm season plants. The little transplants can be frost-tender in spring, and they dislike cold soils. Not only do they need to be planted well after any frost is possible, their little rooty feet crave warm soils to thrive in.

But once a pepper plant digs in, matures and begins producing, it can segue smartly into fall and handle some chilly nights. Curiously, heat-loving peppers put out one last hearty flush of fruits in the fall, leaving a gardener with an abundance. It’s a plant that can pay itself back in spades come early October.

Didn’t put any peppers in last spring? Local festivals and farmers markets can be a fun way to experience the fall pepper abundance, too. Places like nearby Pittsboro celebrate this Carolina fall flush with a popular “Pepperfest” (held annually, it was in late September this year). Star chefs, brewers, distillers and more, all from central North Carolina, produce pepper-themed dishes, desserts and beverages for the festival-goers, along with live music. Put it on your calendar for next year. 

The Farmers Market in Carrboro features growers like Alex and Betsy Hitt of Peregrine Farms of Graham, roasting peppers in a metal drum on the spot for your feasting pleasure, or to take home in a paper bag to cool down. Our local farmers markets should have fresh peppers for salsas, stuffing, pepper steak and more.

Roasting bell peppers instantly improves the flavor of this common garden veggie, kicking up the interest in any dish. It’s a fall specialty. Kitchen maven Ina Garten’s instructions for pepper roasting are:

1. Preheat the oven to 500 degrees.

2. Place the whole peppers on a sheet pan and place in the oven for 30 to 40 minutes, until the skins are completely wrinkled and the peppers are charred, turning them twice during roasting.

3. Remove the stem from each pepper and cut them in quarters.

To get an even smokier and more complex pepper flavor, try flame roasting, over a grill or even on your stove. Be sure to wear a protective oven mitt and use tongs. To grill, arrange peppers on a medium flame, turning every few minutes, roasting for 15-20 minutes, until the peppers are charred, soft and collapsing in on themselves. Let cool in a paper bag, or steam further in a glass bowl covered with plastic wrap. Peel away the charred skin and discard. Remove seeds and membrane from interior.

Over a stove burner flame, char individually, using tongs — simple for a small-batch recipe needing a flavor up-level. Hold pepper above your hottest flame with tongs and a mitt, turning until fully blackened, 7-8 minutes. A sheet pan and your broiler can also do the trick for a greater number, but watch carefully and rotate as needed.

Process the results for terrific, smoky roasted red pepper tapenade or soups, relishes, dips, pastas, sandwiches, even breakfast scrambled eggs.

To freeze your abundance of peppers, first rinse, dry, then remove the stems, seeds and white interior membranes. Dice or cut into strips, then spread on a tray so they’re not touching. They don’t even need to be blanched (flash-cooked) first. Freeze till firm, then transfer to a freezer-safe zip-top bag with all the air pressed out. Or, if you have a vacuum sealer, seal your harvest into chili-worthy portions. Shake out needed quantities for your cold weather recipes.

If you have a dehydrator, and freezer space is scarce or you like to camp and backpack, it may be a good option. It’s generally too humid in North Carolina to dry peppers outside, as they do in New Mexico and Arizona. Set your oven to the lowest possible temperature and watch carefully throughout the day. This will heat the house but, hey, nights are cooling off. Store in airtight containers.

For a little winter heat, I like to freeze my hot peppers as well as the sweet bells. A teaspoon or two of jalapeños scooped out of the bag adds a kick to many a chilly night meal. While you are chopping, wear gloves and don’t touch your eyes.

Come November, when the colder winds blow, you’ll be glad of a little fire to add to chili, beans, curries and tortilla soups. Or treat yourself to a few jars of homemade pepper jam to serve over the holidays, with cream cheese and crackers. Since you’re already chopping hot stuff, why not go ahead and whip up a batch of fresh pepper salsa straight from the garden? 

Habaneros and the throat-scorching “ghost” peppers are generally too much for most dishes, yet the plants are throwing them out by the handfuls now. Despite the fact that many humans love hot peppers, capsaicinoids, the “heat” in peppers, is an irritant to mammals and insects. We can use that to deter deer, rabbits and some insect pests.

Chop and freeze two cups of the habaneros or ghost peppers as above — besides gloves to protect the fingers, contact wearers may appreciate goggles. Come spring, dump it into a food processor with several cloves of garlic. Add a little water to make a slurry. Consider the goggles again. Once pureed, add the mix to a big, clean bucket and pour four gallons of hot water over it. Cover and let steep for a day, then strain well, through several layers of cheesecloth, into another clean bucket. Add a few squirts of dish soap to help the mix stick. Add to your garden sprayer, and use after a rain or every few days. Don’t spray your actual tomato fruits unless you like them spicy!

Peppers can be slow to come into production in summer. Once they hit their stride, they bear prolifically. The heat and dryness of late July can cause blossoms to drop, thus a gap in fruiting. But come fall, they charge ahead. As we head into late October, it’s usually well worth the effort of tossing a blanket and covering the plants on those first few frosty nights.

Roasted Red Pepper Spread

Red bell peppers, roasted

Garlic cloves

Good olive oil

Red wine vinegar

Salt and pepper, to taste

Rinse, then roast red bell peppers and peeled garlic cloves in the oven at 350 degrees until soft. Cool, then blend in food processor with a little olive oil, red wine vinegar, salt, and black pepper. Adjust quantities of ingredients to your taste. 

Roasted Red Pepper Spread can also be frozen, and it takes up less freezer space than chopped and bagged peppers. Get the fireplace going, crack open a good bottle of wine, and serve with a good chevre and crispy crackers. Consider it dinner.  PS

Jan Leitschuh is a local gardener, avid eater of fresh produce and co-founder of the Sandhills Farm to Table cooperative.

Papadaddy’s Mindfield

Humor Me

These are difficult times. More reason than ever to ease up and have a good laugh

By Clyde Edgerton

In a small town stands a stucco building with two signs out front, one large, one small.

The large sign: Juanita’s Veterinary and Taxidermy Shop.

The small sign: Either Way You Get Your Cat Back.

Humor sometimes is forced to the backseat during this age of monster hurricanes, deadly drugs, poverty, wasteful wealth, anxiety, senseless car deaths, gun deaths, higher suicide rates, declining lifespans . . . WHOA! STOP!

Are the times really that bad? Or are the times being covered in such depth with penetrating media platforms, social and otherwise, that we just think times are worse than ever?

I mean, we at least got past the Middle Ages.

Answer: The times really are that bad . . . and there may be small, smooth ways to move, in your head, against bad times. To find a kind of comfort, a kind of distance from the noise.

Humor lightens the load. In some cases, humor close to home, maybe in the neighborhood.

A man who happens to be blind stands on the street corner. His Seeing Eye dog is peeing on his leg. The man is trying to feed his dog a Fig Newton. A woman across the street sees what’s happening, checks for traffic, walks over and says, “Excuse me, sir, did you know your dog was peeing on your leg?”

“Yep,” says the man.

“Well,” says the woman, “why are you trying to feed your dog a Fig Newton?”

The man says, “When I find his head, I’m gonna kick his ass.”

A small funny story (except to the dog, perhaps).

A different kind of entertainment tends to come from other places, from big obscene movie stories, for example — stories with blazing killer weapons and blatant blasts of blood. These movies seem to compete with our big crazy times, and maybe that’s why fans flock to them. These movies seem to say, “The world is getting crazier and uglier and more violent, and thus citizens deserve crazier and uglier and more violent movies. We are keeping up with the times.”

But crazy times also create the need for us to find more little stories from our own neighborhoods and communities. Sit on your front porch for a while. Watch. Listen. Talk to a neighbor.

Go buy some honey, see what happens.

Recently, a friend said he’d take me to a home where I could buy some good honey. He was a regular visitor. He knocks on the door to a sun porch. Somebody says, “Come in.” Inside, an elderly woman (about my age) is sitting at a small table, putting together a giant jigsaw puzzle. Her husband is sitting on a couch across the room. I and the couple are introduced, we shake hands. My friend and I take seats, and I ask about the puzzle — something to talk about before I buy some honey.

“Oh, yeah,” says the woman, “I do a lot of puzzles. I’ve probably done a hundred this year.”

I look at her husband, sitting quietly on the couch, and ask him, “Do you do puzzles, too?”

“Oh, yeah,” he says, slowly. “If we didn’t have puzzles, we wouldn’t have nothing to do.”

That was not an answer I could make up or find in a joke book, but for me (as a writer) it was golden — a little local story I’ve been telling my friends and have now written down.

Put the news aside. Talk to a neighbor. Discover a joke, a little story. Fight the bad times that way. Dismiss the cellphone and computer and TV for hours at a time. Hang on to the humor. Put some peanut butter on a piece of toast, add a little honey, go sit on the porch. Watch, listen. Find a story.  PS

Clyde Edgerton is the author of 10 novels, a memoir and most recently, Papadaddy’s Book for New Fathers. He is the Thomas S. Kenan III Distinguished Professor of Creative Writing at UNCW.

True South

The Child Files

Kids say, well, whatever pops into their blessedly sweet heads

By Susan S. Kelly

Whenever “the world is too much with us,” as William Wordsworth so prettily put it, or current events and crises and confusion threaten to crumple me, I first read Wendell Berry’s poem “The Peace of Wild Things,” taped to my computer monitor. Then I pull up YouTube, and Hugh Grant’s voiceover opening lines of Love, Actually. “Whenever I get gloomy with the state of the world, I think about the arrivals gate at Heathrow Airport . . .”

Then, naturally, I head for my Child Files.

Next to my Miscellaneous File (because where else do you stash something like “Mules and mushrooms have no gender,” and “New wallpaper smells like Band-Aids”?), my Child File is the thickest. Sure, I dutifully listed all minutiae in their baby albums — first word, first tooth, first haircut — but the Child File contains far more pertinent information. It’s a kind of record, repository, evidence of, the skills my children came by, created, and/or appropriated for survival as adults. Darwin’s theories had nothing on my three kiddoes (and what you told me about yours).

On avoidance: When I lecture my oldest, he clips a pen to his leg hair.

On socialization: “If you miss lunch, you miss everything,” my daughter complained if I scheduled her doctor’s appointment late morning. She also whined if the carpool came too early, thus denying her another op for elementary school drama. In addition, the all-day sulk because she’d forgotten it was a dress-down day and she’d worn dress code to school.

On negotiation/the art of the deal: My son receives a $10 gift certificate at Harris Teeter for a tip, and then tries to sell it to me for $9. Why nine and not 10? I ask. “I’m trying to sweeten the deal,” he says.

My 16-year-old is cleaning out his collection of . . . liquor bottles. His 8-year-old sister wants the cool Absolut vodka bottle, for which he makes her pay him $2 and smell his feet. The amazing aspect to this sibling transaction is that it takes place without my ever being aware. No one pleads; no one fights. Both think they got a good deal. Later, my daughter shows me the newly acquired bottle with pride, and tells me how she came to possess it. With no trace of humiliation.

On growing up: My son and his post-college roommates bickering in a Costco aisle, then resorting to rock-paper-scissors to determine what they’ll buy. As far as I can tell, rock-paper-scissors informed 90% of his decisions at that age.

Other son eating pancake batter because it was the only thing he could afford at that age.

Daughter asking, “How do you know when you’re grown up?” Oldest child immediately answers, “When no one writes your name in your clothes anymore.”

Nephew who composed an outline before he wrote the thank-you note to his girlfriend’s mother.

On higher education: My son’s announcement that his teacher told the class that every Emily Dickinson poem can be sung to the Gilligan’s Island theme song.

Other son’s announcement that he has dropped Statistics 11 for the History of Rock ’n’ Roll.

Son’s wholly serious question the night before second grade begins: “Mom, do I have to take math this year?”

Nephew’s entire essay content on What I Like About People: I like their houses and toys and that’s about it.

On ownership rights: The handwritten note left in the dried-up, sugar-stiffened, flake-crusted Krispy Kreme box containing a lone doughnut: DO NOT EAT THIS IT IS MINE.

On illness: “I blew my nose so hard that air came out of my eyes,” my son informed me.

On coping with ennui, from my daughter: “When I get bored, I either like to organize things or try on clothes.”

From my son, who is tired of me reading all the time: “Watch. I can predict what Mom is reading right now, I’m psychic. She’s reading ‘the.’”

Same son, leaning over lawn mower and breathing in the gasoline fumes: “Watch, Mom. I’m getting dumber.”

The 9-year-old daughter and her friend are playing a game called Make Me Laugh, which involves putting on some music and dancing. How nice, I think; how cute. When I come downstairs, the Make Me Laugh laughter abruptly ceases. Slow dawning of humiliation: The pair are dancing and laughing to my music, finding it all just too, too hilarious.

Older, non-eyeglass-wearing brother to younger brother, who’s finally, gleefully, getting contact lenses: “The first thing the doctor does when they measure you for contacts is give you a shot in your eyeball.”

(Actually, that entry might go hand-in-hand with the sibling argument it interrupted, wherein the two combatants were arguing over who had peed last and therefore had to go back upstairs and flush the toilet.)

Bless the child, then, unwitting antidote for adult existential angst. PS

Susan S. Kelly is a blithe spirit, author of several novels, and a proud grandmother.

Golftown Journal

Finding Peace

The many pleasures of walking a golf course

By Lee Pace

During the last week of August, I turned over to the editors at UNC Press my manuscript of 60,000 words and flash drive of several hundred photographs assembled during a two-year period for a book about walking some of the top golf venues in the Carolinas. The idea was to find 18 courses crossing dimensions from private to resort to municipal that offered outstanding golf and fostered a culture of walking — by lugging, pulling a trolley or taking a caddie. 

And find a good story at every juncture.

I am delighted to report there are legions of golfers across the Carolinas who think of motorized carts as the scourge of the Earth. Herewith is a sampling of the golfers I met and the passion I found.

From Croft Thomas, an Asheville physician and member at Biltmore Forest Country Club: 

“I think it’s presence, honestly. One of the things everyone looks for in life is being purely in the moment, absolutely present. I think some would call it nirvana. Golf is something where you’re 100 percent fully present for it. When you’re hitting your shot, you think of absolutely nothing else. When you walk, I think it prolongs that and allows you to have that presence over three-and-a-half hours. I don’t think I’d feel that with a golf cart. All you’re thinking about is your shot. It’s complete presence and it’s extended by walking.”

From Bill Coore, whose golf design partnership with Ben Crenshaw produced the restoration of Pinehurst No. 2 and the Dormie Club:

“Golf is a game born of nature. I rather doubt that the originators of golf in whatever form ever envisioned the day people would ride around and play the game. Just like sand has been a link throughout golf architecture for 500 years, walking has been a link throughout the history of golf for more than 500 years.”

From Gil Hanse, the architect who designed the new Pinehurst No. 4 and The Cradle short course and says he “absolutely abhors” having to build cart paths:

“What makes golf the greatest game is that our playing fields are so drastically different from one to the other; there is no standardization. Whatever nature and the mind of the architect produce, that’s what we play on. To experience that as you move through a landscape on foot opens you up to seeing so much more. You see the nuances of the design, the subtleties, feel the topography. You can’t experience that in a cart. Your feet aren’t in contact with the ground and you’re moving at a fast speed. When you’re sitting in a cart, your focus is all about, where is my ball?”

From Paul Zizzi, an Atlanta anesthesiologist who’s a member at Grandfather Golf and Country Club in Linville: 

“Golf is such a nice reprieve from the environment I spend most of my time. It’s all about moving your body and breathing good air and getting sunlight. If you understand how the body works and what it needs, walking becomes much more attractive. For me it’s stress relief, it’s visual stimulation as you see a lot of beautiful sights. And it’s getting sunlight. I love the game of golf, but that’s almost secondary to getting outside and moving my body.”

From Tommy Brittain, a trial attorney and member at The Dunes Golf and Beach Club in Myrtle Beach: 

“Those old gnarly Scots on those moors and heaths before there were any motors were, of course, walking. On the true Scottish links courses, they understand your feet on those fairways and in the rough are part of the story. It’s inexplicably a part of the experience. We’ve lost that in America. It’s typical of us to take over a situation and put some sort of convenience or ease to it. Sadly, that’s part of our culture. But fortunately, we have little pockets of people who have glimpsed why walking is part of the game.”

From John Farrell, director of golf at Sea Pines Plantation on Hilton Head Island:

“We have kind of a heightened sense of awareness as we’ve seen the other side to it. (Mandatory carts) is just not the way to do it. If you’re physically able, the way to play is to walk. It’s the easy way to roll. Here we’re at sea level, the proximity greens to tees is good, it’s better socially, and obviously it’s better physically. There are so many benefits to walking I can’t see why you wouldn’t.”

From Kitty Garner, a member at Charlotte Country Club who with four young children in the 1990s would play quick morning rounds alone once the kids were off to school:

“Coming out early and walking was like finding peace for me. I’d get to the first tee time and walk really fast. I’d finish in a couple of hours and be ready for the next carpool. I didn’t have four hours to play. But I needed that quiet time.”

From Jeff Loh, a regular at Mid Pines Inn and Golf Club as he stands on the 15th tee of the 1921 Donald Ross-designed course: 

“Your heart rate picks up a beat or two on this part of the course. This routing is ludicrously good. They say good wine has a sense of place — terroir. This course has quite the sense of place. It’s unique to the Sandhills. When it was all Bermuda (before Kyle Franz restored the native areas in 2012-13), it could have been in Connecticut, it could have been anywhere. And to appreciate it more, you walk.”

From Dr. John Ellis, an orthopedic surgeon and former president at the Country Club of North Carolina who helped draft an initiative encouraging walking: 

“We developed a policy that said we think walking is a part of the game and should be allowed. You can really enjoy the game walking. As a doctor, obviously it’s the right thing to do for your health. We realized we would lose some income on the carts but felt it was the right thing to do. Allowing walking better met the needs of our members, which is what a private club is supposed to do anyway.”

From Joe McCullough, who joined Pinehurst Country Club in 2012 after hearing about the “Walking Club” that allowed members to walk the resort’s nine golf courses during certain times while restrictions were placed on resort guests:

“Our first month in town, the club had an orientation meeting and one of the pros said the Walking Club no longer existed. I panicked. I thought I’d made the biggest mistake in my life. The young man quickly said not to worry, they now allowed unrestricted walking. I thought, ‘Man, I’ve just won the lottery.’”

From Hayes Holderness, who lives in Greensboro and travels the world walking courses as a member of the Golf magazine rating panel, on the yin and yang between walkers and riders on the first tee: 

“Someone might say, ‘Oh, you’re going to be anti-social and walk. I say, ‘You’re the one being anti-social. You’re welcome to join me walking.’ It’s good-natured kidding, no one gets upset about it. But the truth is, we can talk a lot more if we’re walking. The entire foursome can talk. If everyone’s in carts, you mainly talk to your cart mate.”

From Dick Deal, former president at Secession Golf Club in Beaufort, South Carolina, an all-walking club: 

“I used to ski a lot in the winter and would walk my home course at Fairfax Country Club to get my legs in shape for the winter. We had a large cadre of walkers. Another group was the big, fat guys who sat on their rears, rode carts and had heart attacks. When you walk, you get a sense of the wind and the firmness of the ground. All the elements play into your mind. You’re at one with the golf course; you’re not separated by some noisy mechanical device.”

And from Dr. Julian Laing, the town doctor in the fictional Scottish village of Burningbush in Michael Murphy’s 1972 book Golf in the Kingdom: 

“For every theory ye propose about the improvement o’ the game, I’ll show ye how the game is fadin’ away, losin’ its old charm, becomin’ mechanized by the Americans and the rest o’ the world that blindly follows them. Look at the crowded links , the lack o’ leisure , the hurried startin’ times, the ruination o’ the old clubs where ye could gather with your friends and enjoy some good conversation. I see the distorted swings, the hurried rounds, and now the electric carts tae ruin the courses and rob us of our exercise.” PS

Lee Pace’s book tentatively titled Good Walks will be published in 2020 by the University of North Carolina Press.