What were your favorite foods as a child? Thank goodness our tastes change as we grow up because I was a rather "picky" eater. My mother really worked at trying to get me interested in a variety of foods. I was not too responsive at first, but as I grew, I came around.

The thought of picking soft, ripe raspberries off the briers in the garden, giving them a blow to remove any foreign particles, and popping them into my mouth makes my mouth water today. Blackberries were a close second, but the flavor didn't quite match raspberries.

I once ate so many that the seeds became packed in my intestines and my parents had to take me to the doctor!

I could hardly wait for watermelon time. My father was a good "thumper," able to tell when a melon was ripe. I always managed to talk him into pulling one too early, just in case his evaluation was a little off.

When young fryers were reaching maturity in summer, we had fried chicken nearly every day. The gizzard was my first choice, and then the "pully bone." That small piece of tender breast with the forked bone intact has totally disappeared because of the way chickens are developed and cut up today. After I had eaten all the meat with biscuits and gravy, I was kind enough to rotate who got to pull the bone with me in hopes of getting the longer piece, supposedly to bring good luck.

A person in our neighborhood had a sorghum mill and boiling vat and he would establish his operation in a convenient spot for persons to come for his services. We would haul our sorghum crop and watch as the juice was pressed out of the stalks and reduced to molasses. If I got tired and went home before the process was over, I would take a sample with the foam still warm on top. Buttered biscuits soaked with the natural syrup were delightful.

Hog killing was a major event. It provided most of the meat supply for an entire year that was processed and preserved in one way or another. Some parts were eaten right then, such as brains mixed with scrambled eggs for a hearty supper. Other perishable parts were given away to anyone who would take them. Hams, bacon, shoulders, ground sausage, canned tenderloin, and rendered lard were staples we could not do without.

Sweet, juicy corn is a wonderful vegetable. Yet, I looked forward to its maturing and being made into hominy. We shelled enough to fill a big dishpan. It soaked in wood ashes and water until the husks came loose. After several rinsings, it was ready to dip out and season in the iron skillet, on the menu for many meals. Commercial cans cannot deliver anything close. I enjoyed it for breakfast as well as at dinner and supper.

When in college, I could not come home every weekend. In springtime, I made my plans according to when the poke sallet shoots were at their ideal stage. I actually got hungry for poke. We had plenty of turnip greens served in the campus cafeteria, but they do not satisfy the same. I didn't make it a point to share with my college friends that I picked poke when I got home and my mother cooked it for the most delicious meal that I'd had in months. They might have thought that I was from the country or something.