My dad loved liver and onions and buttermilk. I'd sit there, the awful plate before me, terrified and 4 years old, and he would try to bribe me.
"Take two bites and a sip, and we'll go down to the Crawdad hole!" he would say, but I just couldn't do it. Two bites of Liver and a sip of buttermilk was way past the "daily allowance for awfulness" for a four year old.
God how I wanted to go to the Crawdad hole, with my little string and safety pin and a piece of bacon, and catch some of them crawdads.
I could almost eat the Liver, but no way could I abide the buttermilk.
What would you have done?
Thats what I want to know.
Monday, July 25, 2011
THE CRAWDAD HOLE
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1 comment:
There is no prize grand enough to overcome the awfulness of liver or buttermilk. Or fish. That was the dish that kept me at the table way passed dinnertime while children starved in Africa.
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