I purchased an overpriced mess of okra (from Mexico) at our local Wal-mart. I told Don how excited I was that we were going to have okra with our fish for supper tonight. Yum, yum.
As I am washing the okra and getting ready to prepare it, Don walks by and says, "That's okra?"
And of course I blurt out incredulously, "You've never seen okra before!!!!"
"Not before it's been cooked" he said.
We're gonna have to plant this boy some okra...he's really missing out.
I'm taking it that he never really got the funny about how my unshaven legs were like picking okra.
Hmmmm...
Truly shocking.
So I fry the precious okra and place the dish next to me on the table because I know I'll be the only one eating it. But,much to my surprise Don asked for some.
He then asks me, "why didn't you bread it?"
"I did...with cornmeal" I said.
Evidently the only okra this man has ever seen is that heavily breaded stuff at Cracker Barrel.
He tastes it and then said, "Oh. That's pretty good. Even thought it looks like s*#t, it tastes pretty good."
At last...the man has been enlightened.
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