After Sunday lunch with my folks, I drove back to Birmingham with a carload of vegetables Mother had cooked for me. And I still had one jar of the chili sauce she tried (without success) to teach me to can. So for the past two mornings, I've had peas and chili sauce for breakfast. Might sound a little strange, but it beats the heck out of yogurt and breakfast bars. If Dave hears me making cornbread at 5 a.m., though, the marriage might be over. One of these days, I'll master Aunt Grace's technique for frying eggs in the microwave. Until then I'll just have to keep on raiding Mama's "deep-freeze," as we used to call it. (I wonder what okra would taste like before daylight???)
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