A Different Kind of Twilight: Dark Shadows

Before the Twilight Trilogy, before Anne Rice's Interview with the Vampire, there was Dark Shadows. Dark Shadows was a gothic soap opera that aired late on weekday afternoons on Biloxi's ABC affiliate, WLOX .

If you were a kid in the late 1960s, Dark Shadows was your reason for living.

During summer break, we planned our play schedules around it. During the school year, we raced home before the haunting strains of the opening theme and the eerie silhouette of Collinwood mansion faded from the TV screen.

Dark Shadows was the saga of the fabulously wealthy, tragically cursed Collins clan. Its protagonist was the unwilling vampire Barnabas Collins played by Jonathan Frid. Veteran Hollywood film actress Joan Bennett played the Collins family matriarch. The villianess, Angelique, played by Lara Parker, was the witch who had made Barnabas a vampire and placed the curse on all those unhappy Collinses.

There were also assorted ghosts, zombies, monsters and several generations of Collinses. It was campy and confusing as all hell, especially since the members of the repertory cast often played multiple roles and travelled between centuries and generations and, oh yeah, a parallel universe.

Believe me, Lost had nothing on this show when it came to convoluted plot twists.

And my cousins and I just loved it. So did our Nona who faithfully watched every episode and filled us in on the parts we missed. "Vrag!" she'd hiss affectionately whenever the lovely, but conniving, Angelique graced the screen. Vrag is the Croatian word for imp or little devil. Nona called us that a lot, too.

The series spawned two feature films, House of Dark Shadows and Night of Dark Shadows, but I never got to see those, at least not in a theater. For some reason, my mother, who had no problem with me watching the TV series, thought the movie versions might be too scary and intense.

In 1991, a much more lavish prime-time remake, starring Ben Cross, aired on NBC. That and a pint of Ben and Jerry's Cherry Garcia became my guilty Friday night pleasure until the show was cancelled after 12 episodes.

I re-watched some episodes of the original Dark Shadows TV series a few years ago on the Sci-Fi channel. And I had to laugh -- that really was some over-the-top, melodramatic acting. The show, which was taped in one take, was full of bloopers. Cast members were always flubbing their lines and the production crew often inadvertently wound up stumbling into the frame.

And now it looks like them Shadows is gonna rise (er, fall) again. In 2007 Johnny Depp acquired the rights to the series and announced his plans to star as Barnabas in a movie remake directed by Tim Burton. This past July, they finally got a screen writer for the project, and filming is supposed to begin in January 2011.

Johnny Depp. Tim Burton. Sexy vampires and witches. I think it will work. I know I'll go see it-- and so will Nona in spirit. And if you can't wait that long, you can always watch the original on DVD.

And if you're a real Dark Shadows freak, you'll want to visit this page

Take that Twilight.

Homemade Fiddle Faddle

Dark Shadows was nothing if not a truly great trash wallow. Junk food just completes the entire experience. If a pint of B&J doesn't do it for you, try this homemade version of Fiddle Faddle, one of my favorite after school snacks.

1 c. butter

2 c. brown sugar, packed

1/2 c. light or dark syrup

1 tsp. salt

1/2 tsp. baking soda

1 tsp. vanilla

5 qt. popped corn.

Melt butter in saucepan. Stir in brown sugar, syrup and salt. Bring to boil stirring constantly. Boil 5 minutes stirring to prevent burning. Remove from heat. Stir in baking soda and vanilla. Peanuts can be added. Gradually pour over popped corn mixing well. Put in large roaster. Bake at 250 degrees for 60 minutes, stirring every 15 minutes.

Fruit Salad (?)

I hesitated before adding this beloved recipe to the blog.

Though delicious, and a staple on our holiday dinner tables, it just seems a little ummmmm, low-brow, like something out of a "white trash cooking" tome.

I've heard this called "poor man's ambrosia" or "heavenly hash. "My mother just called it fruit salad. In her mind heavenly hash was Easter candy and this has nothing in common with it except for marshmallows and Easter.

It doesn't really have anything in common with fruit or salad either, hence the question mark in the title. You will find nary a strawberry, melon chunk, banana slice nor anything fresh in it except perhaps for the sour cream. I do recommend you take a gander at the expiration date on that (although really how much worse can sour cream get).

No, this is what they call a "pantry staples dish":

1 can of fruit cocktail (in heavy syrup), drained

1 small can of pineapple tidbits (or crushed pineapple) -- again in heavy syrup, drained

1 cup and a half of miniature marshmallows

1 pint sour cream

Dump it all together in a bowl, cover and let marinate overnight. You can add a cup of flaked coconut if you're so inclined (we never were). Or add a handful of chopped maraschino cherries (as we often did) or substitute canned mandarin oranges for the pineapple (which we only did once. Pineapple's better).

Now, while this might seem like a dish for undiscriminating palates, there really are a few details you should be discriminating about if you make it.

1.) Do not attempt to upgrade the recipe by substituting fresh fruit and creme fraiche. I've tried it. It doesn't work. Your pocketbook will be poorer and so will the overall flavor.

2.) Don't make this with "lite" fruit cocktail. If you're gonna do it, do it with heavy syrup. Even after draining the fruit cocktail, the syrup that coats the "fruit", absorbs, along with the sour cream, into the marshmallows and is a really key part of the flavor.

3.) Absolutely do not use those abominable colored miniature marshmallows. That's just an insult to the recipe and your dining partners.

4.) Don't toss this together minutes before serving time. The salad will be soupy and taste like what it is -- a bunch of thrown together convenience foods. This really needs to sit in the fridge overnight to absorb all the flavors and work its magic.

5.) At serving time, the mixture should have a fluffy airy texture. Serve in a pretty cut crystal dish. Presentation is everything. You may even be able to trick people into thinking it's real food.
Say what you will about it, I defy anyone to find a better accompaniment for ham.

Can We Put the Round Bone Back in the Round Steak (Pretty Please)?

Maybe I'm just unobservant, but exactly when did supermarket butchers start leaving that little round bone out of their cuts of round steak?

As a rule, I don't much care for round steak. Yeah, yeah, I know the round cuts are leaner, and therefore better for you, than chuck, but they're also dry, tough and flavorless. Don't EVEN think of making me a hamburger with ground round.

That said, one of the favorite "everyday" summer meals of my childhood was my mom's pan-fried round steak with milk gravy served over rice with a side of fresh green beans and a slice of ripe garden tomato to make the plate pretty.

And the reason this was one of my favorite meals was the ubiquitous little round bone, filled with bone marrow, that came with every steak.

Like a hopeful puppy, I stood at my mother's elbow as she pounded the bejesus out the steak, cut it into serving pieces, dredged in seasoned flour and browned in a tablespoon or so of oil. I kept a watchful eye on the piece with the bone in it. When the meat had browned and the marrow turned creamy and pulled away from the bone, she let me gnaw on it while she made the gravy.

The marrow, creamy, sweet, nutty, went down like silky candy -- only better. And it was never enough. As far as I was concerned, the butcher could have just bundled up a whole package of those little round bones with a fifty-cent-piece size of meat attached and I would have been perfectly content.

The other day I had a hankering for round steak and gravy. I went to three grocery stores. In their meat cases, I found plenty of extremely lean, unnaturally red, unbelievably expensive, BONELESS round steak.

In the end, I wound up making do with the boneless stuff. It tasted OK, but it wasn't quite right.

I REALLY missed the bone.

In butcher shops all over America, there are heaps of those little beauties no doubt just being pitched out with the trash. If only I could get my hands on them.

Pan Fried Round Steak With Milk Gravy

Cut the round steak in to serving sized pieces. Pound with the textured side of meat mallet to tenderize the meat. This step is important. Round steak tends to cook up tough so you have to break down the muscle fibers before you add the meat to the skillet. Dredge lightly in seasoned flour. This isn't chicken-fried steak so don't worry with an egg wash or a double coating of flour.

Heat a tablespoon or two of vegetable oil in a skillet. Cook the meat on both sides until browned. Again you're not looking for a crispy golden fried coatings.

Remove to a plate. Keep warm while you prepare the gravy.

Now this milk gravy is the second reason why this was one of my favorite childhood dinners. My grandmother -- my daddy's mother in Tennessee -- routinely made this milk gravy with meat drippings, flour and milk to go with everything --pork chops, fried chicken and this round steak.

Add seasoned dredging flour (about two tablespoons, maybe a little more depending how much gravy you are making and how thick you want it) to the drippings in the skillet and lightly brown. Slowly whisk in about a cup of HOT milk. For best results, whisk a little flour from the skillet into the hot milk before adding the milk mixture to the skillet. Cook the gravy for a few minutes, scraping up the meat bits, until thickened and light brown. The texture varies. If you like thick gravy, use less milk, add more milk if your gravy is cooking up too thick. Add salt and pepper to taste. I like mine kind of peppery. Serve over rice or mashed potatoes or over the meat and hot flaky biscuits .

To be completely honest, this isn't a true Point Cadet recipe. My nona made smothered round steak with peppers and onions in a tomato gravy. But I like this kind better.

Spezi, Anyone?

When it's hot like this, I just mainline Diet Cokes. And when I've had my limit of caffeine for the day (something people tell me as opposed to something I figure out all on my own), I switch to lemonade.

But I never really thought about mixing the Coke and lemonade together. Maybe it's because I really hated the canned lemon coke that came out several years back. To me it tastes like lemon Pledge smells.

Or maybe it's because of one of those colorful "Depression-era" stories my mother was so fond of telling . You know those "making do" stories that parents raised in that era told (and embroidered just a teensy bit) so we lazy 70's teenagers would know how easy we had it?

Her story was her family couldn't afford soft drinks for all six kids, so Grandpa, as a special treat, would mix one or two bottles of Coke (actually I think it was RC Cola) into a pitcher of lemonade to stretch out the cola.

I felt so sorry for her.

Three years ago, I visited a friend in Bavaria. The trip included a visit to Crazy King Ludwig's castle in the Alps (the one on which Cinderella's Disney castle is based). Now that castle is way in the hell up in the sky. So the first thing you want to do after hiking your ass up there is find something to drink. At the concession stand that someone obviously saner than Ludwig was thoughtful enough to provide, you will find a revelation: a drink called Spezi -- a mixture of lemonade and Coke.

Turns out Spezi is a very popular beverage all over Germany and, in fact, in many parts of Europe. In Bavaria, it is made with an orange lemonade while in northern Germany it's more of the traditional lemonade. It's not bad -- especially if you can find carbonated lemonade (or orangeade) as they have in Europe. I make mine with regular lemonade and Diet Coke. For a more authentic Bavarian touch, try mixing the Coke with Fanta orange soda.

For the record, I never really believed Mama's"walking to school in the snow" story either. I mean, hello, I was raised in Biloxi, too. I'm saying.

Sunday Night Special: Fried Egg Sandwich

It's Sunday night. The house is tidy (well as tidy as it's gonna get with seven cats in residence ). The clean laundry is folded and put away. The garbage has been hauled to the curb for tomorrow's pick-up. All that's left to do is check in with you, dear readers, and enjoy my family's traditional Sunday night dinner: a fried egg sandwich.

I have been eating fried egg sandwiches on Sunday nights for as long as I can remember.

In my family, the Sunday noon meal has always been the big pull-out-the-stops meat and three plus dessert meal eaten on the good china around a table with a tablecloth (or at least place mats). At least twice a month, we would enjoy these at my grandparents' house on Point Cadet.


Those feasts usually revolved around baked or fried chicken, a roast (pork or beef) studded with garlic and falling apart, rice and gravy with Parmesan cheese, potato salad and deviled eggs (both covered with a generous coating of paprika -- Nona loved the stuff), and canned green peas. Nona wouldn't have known a leafy green vegetable if one had bitten her.

After the big noon meal, the kids headed outside to play hide and seek, walk on the fishing bridge or go to Rosetti's for ice cream. The adults cleared the table, cleaned up the kitchen, played cards, talked politics and told stories and jokes until dark. Everyone laughed a lot.

When we got home, as full as we still were, my mother insisted we eat a "little something" before we went to bed. Three daily meals -- whether you needed them or not -- was an iron-clad commandment in our household. That "little something" usually turned out to be a fried-egg sandwich.

When I moved out on my own, I continued the tradition -- mostly because eggs were about the only thing I could afford to eat for many years. Now I just do it (my cholesterol level permitting) cause I like 'em.

To me a simple fried egg sandwich, on fresh white bread, was, is and will always be the coda on a weekend well-spent.

It wouldn't be Sunday night without one.

Fried Egg Sandwich

Melt a pat of margarine or butter over medium heat in a non-stick pan until it stops bubbling. Break a large egg into the hot skillet. When the egg white has set, burst the yolk, using a spatula to spread the yolk into all the cracks and crevices of the cooked egg. Sprinkle with salt and pepper, flip the egg, and cook until the bottom is just set but still a little "juicy" and the lacy outer edges of the egg are brown and crispy.

Flip the fried egg onto a piece of FRESH white sandwich bread, top with a second slice. That's it. No mayo or other condiments (except for a drop or two of hot sauce if you must). For the optimal sandwich you want white bread, but it must be super soft and fresh or the sandwich won't be any good.. If your bread is past its prime, lightly toast it first.

Since I am not normally a "white bread" person, I keep a loaf in the freezer so I can thaw out the slices for this very purpose. It works.

Sarah Coventry Parties

The 1970s were THE decade for home sales parties. If it hadn't been for Sarah Coventry jewelry -- which Aunt Marie sold on the home party circuit -- I would have had a pretty empty social life -- and even emptier jewelry box. I do not remember a single birthday or Christmas from high school where I did not receive at least one piece of Sarah Conventry jewelry.

The jewelry was not unattractive and well made for costume stuff. I received many compliments on a long hinged owl pendant with moonstone eyes as well as a silver necklace with a bib of intricately woven silver chains -- both looked great against a black turtleneck. I also felt very sophisticated in a gold faux-coral studded dinner ring that reached to my knuckle.

The standout SC piece, however, had to be the "Love Story" birthstone ring that everybody, including me, just HAD to have. It consisted of two crystal hearts set in a lot of frou-frou entwined vines and flowers. The collection also included earrings and a pendant.

I don't have any of my Sarah Coventry jewelry anymore. Looking at its popularity, and the corresponding prices, on e-Bay now, I wish I did. SC has gone from schlock to vintage. Who knew? Funny how time has a way of bestowing respectability.

I do, however, still have some of those Sarah Coventry party recipes. Two in particular stand out: congealed pretzel salad and my cousin Susie's fudge scotch ring.

The "salad" was really more of a dessert. Fudge scotch candy was one of the few things Sue liked to cook; she always made this for Christmas and to any pot luck type of affair.

So, are there any other Sarah Conventry girls out there? What was your favorite piece of Sarah Coventry jewelry and your favorite party recipe?

Strawberry Pretzel Salad

2 cups crushed pretzels
3/4 cup margarine, melted
2 teaspoons white sugar
1 (8 ounce) package cream cheese
3/4 cup white sugar
4 1/2 ounces frozen whipped topping, thawed
1 (6 ounce) package strawberry flavored gelatin
2 cups boiling water
2 (10 ounce) packages frozen strawberries

Preheat oven to 400 degrees F (200 degrees C). In a medium bowl, mix crushed pretzels, margarine and sugar. Press crushed pretzel mixture into the bottom of a 9x13 inch baking dish, and bake in the preheated oven 8 minutes. Remove from heat and allow to cool.

Blend together the cream cheese and sugar. Fold in whipped topping and spread evenly over cooled pretzel mixture.

In a medium bowl, dissolve the strawberry flavored gelatin in boiling water. Mix in strawberries and set aside to cool for 15 minutes.

Pour gelatin mixture over cream cheese mixture and refrigerate until set, about 4 hours.

Fudge Scotch Ring

1 cup walnut halves (I've also made this using pecans)
1 6-ounce package semi-sweet chocolate morsels
1 6-ounce package butterscotch morsels
1 14-ounce can sweetened condensed milk
1 cup coarsely chopped walnuts (or pecans)
1/2 teaspoon vanilla extract

Line the bottom of a 9-inch pie pan with a 12-inch square of aluminum foil. Place a custard cup in the center of the pan. Plan walnut halves around the custard cup forming a 2-inch ring. Set aside.

Combine the chocolate and butterscotch morsels and condensed milk in the top of a double-boiler. Place over hot, not boiling, water. Stire until the morsels have melted and mixture begins to thicken. Remove from heat and stir in chopped nuts and vanilla. Chill about an hour. Spon chocolate-butterscotch mixture in mounds over the walnut halves. Remove the custard cup. Store in refrigerator covered with foil. Yields one 8-inch ring.

The Point Accent

If you hail from the Point, it doesn’t take long for someone to figure it out. Even if your last name doesn’t end with –ich or –eaux, the second you open your mouth, everyone knows your roots rest somewhere east of downtown.

This distinctive accent, largely native to the Point, but also heard around the Back Bay and other East Biloxi neighborhoods is less common in Central and West Biloxi. You definitely don't hear it in Long Beach, Gulfport or Pascagoula although you do hear something that sounds like it around Bay St. Louis.

It’s hard to describe the Point Cadet accent in print. Think Brooklyn crossed with a Southern drawl and you’re pretty close. A friend of mine from Massachusetts visiting East Biloxi for the first time declared, “I love this place. Everybody sounds like Joe Pesci.”

And, by the way, the true old timers never pronounced their neighborhood’s name as we do now. It was Point Caddy to them.

So how did this Noo Yawk accent wind up in the deepest part of the Deep South? And why did it largely skip over much of the rest of Mississippi’s coastal communities?

It all goes back to early 20th century immigration and its way of creating melting pots within a very short period of time. At the turn of the last century, New Orleans and Biloxi, received large numbers of people from Italy and what later became Yugoslavia, as well as Acadian French descendants from the swamps of South Louisiana. All of them were drawn by the booming seafood industry. New Orleans, more than Biloxi, also received Irish and German immigrants which explains why, in some neighborhoods, their regional accent is similar to, but slightly different than what you hear in some parts of Biloxi.

As the newcomers settled into the same working class neighborhoods, their various accents melded and evolved.

As evocative as these distinctive, if less than dulcet, tones are of our local culture, it’s hard to believe they they may be a short-lived phenomenon. The accent, so strong in my grandparents’ and parents’ generations, has started to fade away. Blame it on our transient society, where people move away from their old neighborhoods, and on the mass media which has affected all regional dialects to some degree.

In another generation or so , those dropped gs, screwy diphthongs and misplaced possessives may be heard only in oral history archives. A relic like the old downtown Biloxi Woolsworth (Woolworth’s to the rest of the world).

Aw, dawlin’, dey won’ know what dey missin’.

Red Bean Salad

The accent is on flavor in this favorite Point summer salad. This recipe does it the old-fashioned way, with red beans cooked from scratch, but today's busy cooks just substitute canned red beans..

1 cup of dried red beans
4 cups of water
(OR SUBSTITUTE 2-3 cans of red beans, rinsed well)
1 chopped onion
1/4 cup of good olive oil
1 T vinegar
Salt and pepper to taste

Rinse and sort beans. If cooking from scratch, bring beans and water to a boil and cook until tender. Drain well. Add chopped onion, olive oil, salt and pepper. Toss to blend. Refrigerate two hours and serve cold. This salad s a good accompaniment to grilled pork chops or sausage.