| Biographical Non-Fiction posted January 7, 2018 |
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Brothers' talk on spareribs spark Grandmother's stories.
Two Pots of Stew
by Sis Cat
"'Dre, I wonder what Sizzler's baby back ribs are."
"Baby back ribs come from baby cows. That's why they call them baby back ribs."
"Oh, that makes sense, but why would anyone eat ribs from baby cows? Seems like a waste to me. You should let them grow up, and then kill them. That way, you get bigger ribs."
"I agree. Mom’s ribs are too small. I can never eat enough of them."
"I can understand why vegetarians don't want to eat meat, but that's not going to stop me."
"Me neither, Jay, just so long as I don't have to kill the cow."
"You boys remember the two lambs I had?"
"Maybe, Mama Jennie. I think I remember them."
"Well, I used to have two lambs that my German Shepherd, King, used to play with in their pen. They used to run around their pen, playing tag all day. They ran back and forth, back and forth. So, when it came time to slaughter them, I had to bring King indoors. After the butcher killed them, he brought in the livers, the hearts, and the meats, and chilled them in the refrigerator before putting them in the freezer.
"The next day, King went out to the pen to look for his friends but couldn’t find them, so he came inside. He sat there and told me with his eyes, 'Where did they go?'
"I explained to him, 'They’re gone, King. They were getting too big, so I had to kill them.'
"For a long time after that, King wouldn’t speak to me. I would set food out for him but he wouldn’t eat it except maybe when I was away.
"Mmm, mmm, mmm! That sure was some good lamb meat!
"My husband, James, used to work on the killing floor of a slaughterhouse. He couldn't stand killing lambs because he didn't like to hear them cry. They sound like babies. So on Mondays when it came time to kill the lambs, he would try to stay home from work, but not too many Mondays, or else he'd get fired. So when he had to work, he tried to work on the hog killing floor or the cow killing floor. He couldn't stand eating lamb 'cause he could hear their cries. He used to say, 'When I worked on the ground floor and someone cooked lamb on the first floor, I can smell it.'
"One time, I wanted to have some lamb stew. So I cooked a pot of lamb stew for me and a pot of beef stew for him, but I said to myself, 'This is ridiculous—cooking two pots of stew! This is twice the work. So I put the two stews together and said to myself, 'James could always fish the beef out later.'
"But when it was done, I couldn't tell the two apart, so I decided to serve it to him and hope he wouldn’t notice."
"Oh-oh, Mama Jennie."
"Yeah, oh-oh."
"When James came home from the killing floor, I was real scared 'cause he always said, 'I can smell lamb a mile away,' but he ain't said nothing about smelling lamb when he came in the kitchen. He said, 'What you done cook, Daddy's Girl?'
"I said, 'Beef stew.'
"He sat down and started eating. He was mixing his cornbread all up in his stew, and he ain't said nothing about tasting any lamb. I was shocked.
"He finished his bowl and asked for seconds, 'Daddy's Girl, that sure was some good beef stew! I want some more, please.'
"It was then that I decided to act smart and said, 'Do you know what you just ate?'
"This look came over James's face and he ran to the bathroom as sick as a dog . . . as sick as a dog!"
"Mama Jennie, why did you tell him?!"
"Yeah, why did you tell him?"
"I don’t know. I just decided to act smart. He never would've noticed if I hadn't told him, but I had to."
"You shouldn't have told him."
"Yeah, you shouldn't have told him."
"I know, but I didn't have to after that because I never cooked lamb again."
Dialogue Only Writing Contest contest entry
"'Dre, I wonder what Sizzler's baby back ribs are."
"Baby back ribs come from baby cows. That's why they call them baby back ribs."
"Oh, that makes sense, but why would anyone eat ribs from baby cows? Seems like a waste to me. You should let them grow up, and then kill them. That way, you get bigger ribs."
"I agree. Mom’s ribs are too small. I can never eat enough of them."
"I can understand why vegetarians don't want to eat meat, but that's not going to stop me."
"Me neither, Jay, just so long as I don't have to kill the cow."
"You boys remember the two lambs I had?"
"Maybe, Mama Jennie. I think I remember them."
"Well, I used to have two lambs that my German Shepherd, King, used to play with in their pen. They used to run around their pen, playing tag all day. They ran back and forth, back and forth. So, when it came time to slaughter them, I had to bring King indoors. After the butcher killed them, he brought in the livers, the hearts, and the meats, and chilled them in the refrigerator before putting them in the freezer.
"The next day, King went out to the pen to look for his friends but couldn’t find them, so he came inside. He sat there and told me with his eyes, 'Where did they go?'
"I explained to him, 'They’re gone, King. They were getting too big, so I had to kill them.'
"For a long time after that, King wouldn’t speak to me. I would set food out for him but he wouldn’t eat it except maybe when I was away.
"Mmm, mmm, mmm! That sure was some good lamb meat!
"My husband, James, used to work on the killing floor of a slaughterhouse. He couldn't stand killing lambs because he didn't like to hear them cry. They sound like babies. So on Mondays when it came time to kill the lambs, he would try to stay home from work, but not too many Mondays, or else he'd get fired. So when he had to work, he tried to work on the hog killing floor or the cow killing floor. He couldn't stand eating lamb 'cause he could hear their cries. He used to say, 'When I worked on the ground floor and someone cooked lamb on the first floor, I can smell it.'
"One time, I wanted to have some lamb stew. So I cooked a pot of lamb stew for me and a pot of beef stew for him, but I said to myself, 'This is ridiculous—cooking two pots of stew! This is twice the work. So I put the two stews together and said to myself, 'James could always fish the beef out later.'
"But when it was done, I couldn't tell the two apart, so I decided to serve it to him and hope he wouldn’t notice."
"Oh-oh, Mama Jennie."
"Yeah, oh-oh."
"When James came home from the killing floor, I was real scared 'cause he always said, 'I can smell lamb a mile away,' but he ain't said nothing about smelling lamb when he came in the kitchen. He said, 'What you done cook, Daddy's Girl?'
"I said, 'Beef stew.'
"He sat down and started eating. He was mixing his cornbread all up in his stew, and he ain't said nothing about tasting any lamb. I was shocked.
"He finished his bowl and asked for seconds, 'Daddy's Girl, that sure was some good beef stew! I want some more, please.'
"It was then that I decided to act smart and said, 'Do you know what you just ate?'
"This look came over James's face and he ran to the bathroom as sick as a dog . . . as sick as a dog!"
"Mama Jennie, why did you tell him?!"
"Yeah, why did you tell him?"
"I don’t know. I just decided to act smart. He never would've noticed if I hadn't told him, but I had to."
"You shouldn't have told him."
"Yeah, you shouldn't have told him."
"I know, but I didn't have to after that because I never cooked lamb again."
"Baby back ribs come from baby cows. That's why they call them baby back ribs."
"Oh, that makes sense, but why would anyone eat ribs from baby cows? Seems like a waste to me. You should let them grow up, and then kill them. That way, you get bigger ribs."
"I agree. Mom’s ribs are too small. I can never eat enough of them."
"I can understand why vegetarians don't want to eat meat, but that's not going to stop me."
"Me neither, Jay, just so long as I don't have to kill the cow."
"You boys remember the two lambs I had?"
"Maybe, Mama Jennie. I think I remember them."
"Well, I used to have two lambs that my German Shepherd, King, used to play with in their pen. They used to run around their pen, playing tag all day. They ran back and forth, back and forth. So, when it came time to slaughter them, I had to bring King indoors. After the butcher killed them, he brought in the livers, the hearts, and the meats, and chilled them in the refrigerator before putting them in the freezer.
"The next day, King went out to the pen to look for his friends but couldn’t find them, so he came inside. He sat there and told me with his eyes, 'Where did they go?'
"I explained to him, 'They’re gone, King. They were getting too big, so I had to kill them.'
"For a long time after that, King wouldn’t speak to me. I would set food out for him but he wouldn’t eat it except maybe when I was away.
"Mmm, mmm, mmm! That sure was some good lamb meat!
"My husband, James, used to work on the killing floor of a slaughterhouse. He couldn't stand killing lambs because he didn't like to hear them cry. They sound like babies. So on Mondays when it came time to kill the lambs, he would try to stay home from work, but not too many Mondays, or else he'd get fired. So when he had to work, he tried to work on the hog killing floor or the cow killing floor. He couldn't stand eating lamb 'cause he could hear their cries. He used to say, 'When I worked on the ground floor and someone cooked lamb on the first floor, I can smell it.'
"One time, I wanted to have some lamb stew. So I cooked a pot of lamb stew for me and a pot of beef stew for him, but I said to myself, 'This is ridiculous—cooking two pots of stew! This is twice the work. So I put the two stews together and said to myself, 'James could always fish the beef out later.'
"But when it was done, I couldn't tell the two apart, so I decided to serve it to him and hope he wouldn’t notice."
"Oh-oh, Mama Jennie."
"Yeah, oh-oh."
"When James came home from the killing floor, I was real scared 'cause he always said, 'I can smell lamb a mile away,' but he ain't said nothing about smelling lamb when he came in the kitchen. He said, 'What you done cook, Daddy's Girl?'
"I said, 'Beef stew.'
"He sat down and started eating. He was mixing his cornbread all up in his stew, and he ain't said nothing about tasting any lamb. I was shocked.
"He finished his bowl and asked for seconds, 'Daddy's Girl, that sure was some good beef stew! I want some more, please.'
"It was then that I decided to act smart and said, 'Do you know what you just ate?'
"This look came over James's face and he ran to the bathroom as sick as a dog . . . as sick as a dog!"
"Mama Jennie, why did you tell him?!"
"Yeah, why did you tell him?"
"I don’t know. I just decided to act smart. He never would've noticed if I hadn't told him, but I had to."
"You shouldn't have told him."
"Yeah, you shouldn't have told him."
"I know, but I didn't have to after that because I never cooked lamb again."
 Recognized |
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Frustrated with my family's inability to tape record our grandmother, Mama Jennie Bell Moore (pictured), when she sprung stories on us, I developed two habits:
1.) I listened closely.
2.) I wrote her stories down in my diary afterwards.
"Two Pots of Stew" is my 1990 diary account of Mama Jennie's story swarm. I thank her for making me the storyteller I am today.
Thank you for your review.
Pays
one point
and 2 member cents. 1.) I listened closely.
2.) I wrote her stories down in my diary afterwards.
"Two Pots of Stew" is my 1990 diary account of Mama Jennie's story swarm. I thank her for making me the storyteller I am today.
Thank you for your review.
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