We went to Thanksgiving Supper with Alice's cousins, up in Owings, South Carolina. Thanksgiving Supper in Owings is a tradition that goes back at least half a century. Usually there's about 25-30 folks. Cousin Hazel and her family provide the Turkey, Dressing, Gravy, Famous Christmas Rolls, and some other fixin's. The rest of the folks bring a variety of contributions: Potato Salad, Candied Sweet Potatoes, Creamed Corn, Green Beans, maybe a Congealed Salad. It is always a delicious feast. Alice's mom, Mama Lucy, always took a ham, so that’s what we brought this year: a platter of porcine perfection produced by wrap cooking a Clifty Farms Country Ham. For dessert there is usually cake or cookies, and always, always, Hazel makes Boiled Custard. Always. It is something that she doesn't make often. In fact, nobody that I know of makes it often. Alice makes it several times a year, usually around the Holidays, or when someone has some sort of mouth surgery that makes chewing unpleasant. It is very good: kind of like egg nog without the spices. Very rich, not too sweet, a nice vanilla mellowness. No booze, but you can add that yourself if you feel the need, which we don't.
big slab smallish morsel of ham, it seemed to me she was kind of thirsty. So I offered her some Boiled Custard. It was in a punch cup, and she kind of eyed it suspiciously. She cautiously let me put it up to her mouth, and tilt it so she could get a bit. After a moment, her eyes got big and she snatched the cup out of my hands and with a glug glug glug, it was empty. Then she handed the cup back to me and said "MWBAA!?" Which apparently meant something like "Goodness Gracious, that was mighty fine! Would you please get me another cup? Right Now!" Which of course I did. She followed me around the rest of the night.
Now what makes you think I might exaggerate?
