The influence of food is as strong in the culture of the Delta as the accents around here. It's all about cooking.
Do you cook? What's your newest recipe? Who gave it to you? How did you cook this? What did they serve there? Who cooked this? Tell me about your dish. What are you going to order? And I'm usually like, Hey, that looks really pretty, I like the colors.
And here, it is an attraction, something you must do on your trail. So naturally, we had a night dedicated to watching friends cook for us at a place called Wister Gardens, in nearby Belzoni (pronounced Bell-zona). Friends, Sha (pronounced Shay) and Jack engineered the whole deal with some smoke involved.
|Until the lamb caught fire--|
|My lovely friend, Elinor is a fabulous cook herself. Stay tuned for her contribution.|
|Open up the window, let some air into this room...|
|Um yes. I happen to be one of the luckiest people in the world who got to eat this number. Chocolate Molten Cakes with Ice Cream. Elinor's Signature Beauty. My Lord, I had tears in my eyes this desert was so good.|
|Beginning of the night--messing you up on purpose. Chrono order is for sissies.|
I'm having a little dinner party tonight. Stuffed mushrooms, crawfish fettucine, salad and red velvet cake. Me? No. It was Elinor. All Elinor. She is my guardian of cuisine angel. I shall have a good time tonight because I am not stressed about making good food. And she loves it. And for me, the fun is eating the food and not so much cooking it. Different strokes for different folks.
It's respecting where someone is, even if it's yourself.