COOKED RED CABBAGE

1 small onion

½ apple, sliced

½ cup brown sugar

1 tsp each cloves, cinnamon and salt

Few grains of rice

¾ cups red wine or sherry

½ cup water

1 small red cabbage, shredded

Sauté chopped onion and apple in medium-sized saucepan. Add brown sugar, spices, rice, wine and cabbage. Cook slowly 45 minutes to 1 hour until cabbage is soft and tender.

(Mrs. Ben W Fisher, Dallas, TX © Southern Living 1968)

Gluten-free and Vegetarian/Vegan Recipes

To meet my needs of being “gluten-free”, there are no ingredients that have wheat in them. Since one out of one-hundred people now have problems with the way the United States processes their foods, there are plenty of brands which are marked GF Gluten-free. However, read all the way around the label and determine if there might be traces of wheat or if the product was processed in a plant or on machinery that also handles wheat. (These statements are usually NOT found near the list of ingredients.) If this is the case and you are gluten-sensitive or have a wheat-toxicity, don’t use it!

I also deleted recipes which called for hidden gluten – like shrimp, frozen mangoes and parsnips.

Vegetarian foods allow the use of milk, honey, eggs, and other non-kill animal products; vegans do not. I have endeavored to post only recipes with vegan-appropriate ingredients. If I really liked something, though, that was vegetarian rather than vegan, I will note it.

Whenever possible, use non-GMO products (non-genetically modified).  If you think gmo’s are ok for you, you haven’t read any science fiction books, let alone Charles Darwin.

These recipes are not an attempt to substitute wheat or animal ingredients with something else. These recipes are “naturally” or originally gluten-free and vegetarian/vegan.

Excerpt from Follow the Bees Chapter Two

          Colette placed her groceries on the conveyor belt, trying to tune out the emotions and auras of the people around her.  She put the heavier items first – cans, frozen veggies, then the medium weight – fresh veggies and fruits.  She put the eighteen-count brown eggs last, hoping the bag boy would appreciate her organizational skills while she wondered -- wasn’t it strange that a bag boy is acceptable role in life, but a bag lady isn’t?

          The elderly woman in front of Colette whispered to the young woman at her side, “Show time,”

          The young woman rolled her head and drew in a fierce breath.  “I bought this skirt over six years ago and every time I wear it, you tell me you need to hem it.  It is not too long.  I like it this length.  I don’t want you to hem it, and I am sick to death of you disguising your criticisms as offers to improve my life.”

          In the ensuing store-wide silence, the bag boy hesitantly asked, “Paper or plastic?”

          She glanced away from the older woman and addressed the older man bagging her groceries.  “Paper.”

Very few bag boys are teenagers, Colette tried to block out her random observation.

          “If I think you have legs that are worth showing off, who am I – I’m just your mother.”

          “I have fat legs.  They are obese.  I like long skirts.”

          The ‘bag boy’ smirked at the teen running the register; both seemed to agree that the middle-aged woman was obese and some legs are better off left hidden.

          “You know, some men like a woman with a bit of weight on her.  If you wouldn’t dress like a refugee from some gypsy camp, you might find yourself a man.”

          The bagger plunked a thin plastic bag filled to bursting with cans into their cart.  “I asked for paper,” the middle-aged woman snapped.

          “We’re out of paper.”

          “Then why did you ask me which one I preferred?”

          “We could use a man around the house.  I’m sick to death of watching you being my yard nigger.”

          “Hey!”  The cashier growled.

          “I’m so sorry.” The woman handed him cash.  “My mother was raised when that word was common.”

          Colette’s cashier rolled his eyes heavenward. 

A young man in a huge cowboy hat turned from Customer Service, flaming orange surrounded him.  An orange aura indicates energy and excitement.  But this man slouched calmly away.  For a second his and Colette’s eyes met.  A sense of déjà vu trilled through her.

          “There is nothing wrong with the word nigger.  And gay is a perfectly good word, too.”

          The daughter had the mother by the arm and crossed between Colette and the cowboy.

          “Why are they stealing all of our words?”

          A bell rang.  People looked at each other accusingly.  Whose annoying cell phone is that?  But the bell increased in pitch and volume and all the cashiers crouched down under their registers.

          The cowboy had disappeared, as had the mother-daughter pair.  A woman in Customer Service was shouting.  Colette realized she had begun shouting at the same time the alarm went off.

Excerpt from

Follow the Bees

© Evelyn Rainey

Available for publication.

BARBECUE SLAW

(Again, probably going to just let you eat this one yourself.)

1 1-pound cabbage

2 stalks celery

1 medium green pepper

1 medium onion

¾ cup hot catsup

¼ cup vinegar

2 Tbsp sugar

1 Tbsp Worcestershire sauce

1 Tbsp mustard

1 tsp salt

Dash of cayenne pepper

Grate, shop or grind cabbage, celery , green pepper and onion. Combine remaining ingredients; mix with vegetables. Chill for several hours. Yield: 1 quart.

(Mrs. May Ann Sewalt, Richardson, TX © Southern Living 1968)

Gluten-free and Vegetarian/Vegan Recipes

To meet my needs of being “gluten-free”, there are no ingredients that have wheat in them. Since one out of one-hundred people now have problems with the way the United States processes their foods, there are plenty of brands which are marked GF Gluten-free. However, read all the way around the label and determine if there might be traces of wheat or if the product was processed in a plant or on machinery that also handles wheat. (These statements are usually NOT found near the list of ingredients.) If this is the case and you are gluten-sensitive or have a wheat-toxicity, don’t use it!

I also deleted recipes which called for hidden gluten – like shrimp, frozen mangoes and parsnips.

Vegetarian foods allow the use of milk, honey, eggs, and other non-kill animal products; vegans do not. I have endeavored to post only recipes with vegan-appropriate ingredients. If I really liked something, though, that was vegetarian rather than vegan, I will note it.

Whenever possible, use non-GMO products (non-genetically modified).  If you think gmo’s are ok for you, you haven’t read any science fiction books, let alone Charles Darwin.

These recipes are not an attempt to substitute wheat or animal ingredients with something else. These recipes are “naturally” or originally gluten-free and vegetarian/vegan.

Excerpt from Close Your Eyes Chapter Two

          Bills paid, spam shredded, Beverly held the cemetery envelop in her hands.  Jolene had planned to take Teddy to lunch after the hairdressers, so Bev had about one more hour.  She sliced the letter open and peeled out the thick paper.

          Dear Ms. Theodora Knightly,

          This letter is to inform you that the management of Beulah Pines Cemetery has changed from the City of Beulah Pines to that of Haberno, Ltd, but rest assured your loved ones’ places of internment will continue to be cared for.

          According to our records, you hold the title to a four plot section:  Chrysanthemum Lane, Matthew Row, numbered 17, 18, 19, and 20.  Plots 19 and 20 are still empty.  Plot 17 holds the remains of your late husband Corporal Hugh Knightly born June 2, 1936, died Oct. 8, 1969.  Plot 18 holds the remains of your late daughter Beverly Knightly born Jan. 29, 1960, died March 10, 1967.

 

          The rest of the letter blurred.  Beverly blinked and tears rolled down her cheeks.  She read it again.  Plot 17 holds the remains of your late husband Corporal Hugh Knightly born . . .  Plot 18 holds the remains of your late daughter Beverly Knightly born Jan. 29, 1960, died March 10, 1967.

          Beverly was born Jan. 29, 1960.  She wasn’t dead.  Why would a tombstone in the middle of a town she’d never heard of have a date for her death when she wasn’t dead!

          ‘Your adopted mother’ Dr. Eoghan’s voice whispered down the hall.

          Beverly stood up and the desk chair clattered to the floor behind her.

          Jolene’s car pulled into the drive.  Bev panicked and shoved the letter into her purse.  She plunged her fingers into the zippered compartment that used to hide her smokes, hoping against hope that just one remained.

          She trembled and took a deep breath.  The door flung open as Beverly righted the chair.

 

          Beverly finished the last lap of her two miles well ahead of the man running on the bleachers.  Anger and fear had driven her beyond the pace she knew was best.  She waited for him at the bottom step, gasping for breath and bent over.

          “You look like you could use a doctor,” he began tentatively.  “Or a cigarette.”

          “I quit smoking,” she straightened.

          “No, people like you and me don’t quit smoking.  We just choose to not smoke for a while.  We could start up again tomorrow, or not have a cigarette for years.  Me?  It’s been seven years.”

          “You’d still smoke again after seven years?”

          “In a heartbeat.  But every step I run up and down those bleachers is a way of – I don’t know, pacifying the demon?  What about you?”

          “I quit smoking,” she assured him firmly, “four months ago.”

          “And how long have you been running?”

          Here she had to drop her eyes, “Ten years.”

          “Since your husband died.”

          Beverly opened her mouth to say something sharp, but then realized he’d just confirmed her suspicions.  “You really have done your homework on my mother and myself.”

          “That’s my job.”

          “What made you think I was not my mother’s child?”

          “When you and your mother were admitted to the hospital after the car accident, ten years ago, you both were given to Dr. Figaro as patients.  Since you admitted you’d never been to a doctor before, he had the lab run all the usual tests, including blood type.  You have type Z, your mother is type X.”

          “Maybe my father’s blood was type Z.”

          “No.  No matter what type the father had, if the mother has type x, each and every resulting child will also have type X or C.  Always.”

          Beverly stared into the space between them, unfocussed, trying to catch her breath.

          “I am very sorry to have been the one to tell you.  It was incredibly –“ he paused as she speared him with her blue eyes.  “She’s your mother, no matter what eggs and sperm started your life.”

          Beverly sat down and smirked, “You know, you might tell those medical universities that the general public just isn’t that stupid and they need to change their ‘heartfelt platitudes.’”

          “You know,” he sat beside her. “”You have a very wry sense of humor that could almost be described as vicious.”

          Her lips fought the urge to grin as she met his gaze.  He didn’t resist and bestowed a magnificent grin on her.

          “I want you to be my doctor.”

          He blinked.  “Are you feeling ill?”

          “I’m fine.  Really.  I don’t want you as my doctor for medical reasons.  I need a confidant.  You’re not allowed to divulge patient-doctor information, right?”

          “As long as there is no danger of injury to yourself or others.”

          “Present or future tense?  Not that I know of.”

          “Past tense?”

          Beverly gulped and tried to calm her racing heart.  “Will you be my doctor?”

          He nodded.

          “I’ve never had a doctor before.  Not even when I was married.  As a child, my mother refused to take me to a doctor – she said it was for religious reasons, and other than getting immunizations at the local clinic, that was it.  No major illnesses, breaks, surgeries, nothing until the car accident.”  Her eyes filled with long-borne grief.  “And none since then.”

          “But your mother uses a doctor now.”

          Beverly rocked forward and back, fighting tears.

          “What is it, Beverly?  You look terrified.  Let me help.”

          She nodded. “I was going through my mother’s mail, paying her overdue bills.  I found a letter from a cemetery in Beaulah Pines,” she said.

“Beaulah Pines?” he seemed startled.

“Yes, you know it?”

He shrugged.  “Sorry for the interruption.  Continue.”

“Keeping me away from doctors had nothing to do with religion.  She didn’t want anyone to know that I’m not Beverly Knightly.  Maybe a doctor would have a way to track something like that.  Ways that lost children can be identified.  Ways that fake birth certificates can be challenged.”

          Eoghan tilted his head.  “I don’t understand.  How did the letter from a cemetery tell you about not being who you thought you were?”

Excerpt from

Close Your Eyes

© Evelyn Rainey

Available for publication.

BARBECUE CABBAGE

(note: I’m not going to try this myself. I like cabbage. I like and can eat barbecue sauce. But venture on without me! Enjoy!)

1 medium cabbage, chopped

2 Tbsp butter/margarine

4 Tbsp barbecue sauce

Cook cabbage in butter until partially done. Add barbecue sauce; simmer until tender. Yield: 8-10 servings.

(Thelma Sischo, Pelham, GA © Southern Living 1968)

Gluten-free and Vegetarian/Vegan Recipes

To meet my needs of being “gluten-free”, there are no ingredients that have wheat in them. Since one out of one-hundred people now have problems with the way the United States processes their foods, there are plenty of brands which are marked GF Gluten-free. However, read all the way around the label and determine if there might be traces of wheat or if the product was processed in a plant or on machinery that also handles wheat. (These statements are usually NOT found near the list of ingredients.) If this is the case and you are gluten-sensitive or have a wheat-toxicity, don’t use it!

I also deleted recipes which called for hidden gluten – like shrimp, frozen mangoes and parsnips.

Vegetarian foods allow the use of milk, honey, eggs, and other non-kill animal products; vegans do not. I have endeavored to post only recipes with vegan-appropriate ingredients. If I really liked something, though, that was vegetarian rather than vegan, I will note it.

Whenever possible, use non-GMO products (non-genetically modified).  If you think gmo’s are ok for you, you haven’t read any science fiction books, let alone Charles Darwin.

These recipes are not an attempt to substitute wheat or animal ingredients with something else. These recipes are “naturally” or originally gluten-free and vegetarian/vegan.

Excerpt from To Hold Back the Dark Chapter Two

Wren-at-Dawn was a man of his word.  He repeated the same phrase to himself as he got up early Sunday morning to live up to his lost bet.  He’d do all the stables today – his first day in charge while Pierre was off-world with Ben.  But he would take two hours off for church.  He would go to church because Atticus was a wise minister and the music lifted his spirits.  It had nothing to do with the new recruit named Lanza who sang in the choir.  Well, not much.

Lost in thoughts of a sweet face, silver-white hair and the voice of an angel, Wren-at-Dawn jumped when Hreno said, “See, I told you he’d be here by now.”

Jeremy, accompanied by his best friend Magyar, nodded and picked up a pitchfork. 

“I’m going to lay down over here, Jeremy,” the dog said.  The boy nodded.

Jeremy and Magyar spent their summers at the Ranch.  Five years earlier, Jeremy had been one of the students kidnapped by a Strategia Oscuro during the Battle of Crystal Lake.  Magyar had risked her life to rescue him.  Hreno and Wren-at-Dawn had been part of the portal which brought him home.  He had to repeat the seventh grade that year, but from that point on, he knew what he wanted out of life – to be a veterinarian – and he did everything it took to reach that goal.  His tests and grades were good enough to go to one of the International Baccalaureates or Collegiate High Schools in the county, but George Jenkins High had one of the best agricultural departments, so he refused their invitations.  He was a junior there now with a 3.9 GPA.  He’d been given a full four-year scholarship to UF and would work on his Vet degree along with his bachelors.  The scholarship was from the Refuge.  He was proud of that.  And he knew that as soon as he was able, he’d move up here and become Ben’s partner.  Ben was the best vet anywhere, all the animals agreed on that.  But they also felt it wouldn’t hurt to have one who could talk to animals, like Jeremy could. 

“I still can’t believe the Queen didn’t get her way.”  Hreno brought an empty wheelbarrow over to Wren-at-Dawn.

            “It’s about time Ben stood up to her.  She’s become a spoiled brat.”   He took off his shirt.  With his exertion, the normally pale scar bisecting the area between his left shoulder and collarbone was a vivid red against his tanned skin.  He rarely noticed the scar anymore, except when an extremely powerful portal was being woven.  Then it ached and burned. 

            Jeremy took off his shirt, too.  It wasn’t that he was mimicking his hero; it was just warm in the stable.  “More like spoiled pet.  That’s what the horses call her.”

“A pet?  That’s how they feel about her?”  Hreno sneezed.

            Jeremy nodded before sneezing, too.

            “Bless you,” Wren-at-Dawn said.  “What she needs is a swift kick.”

Jeremy sneezed again.  “Really?” He stopped what he was doing to stare at his hero.  Wren-at-Dawn was probably only a year or two older than Jeremy, but where Jeremy was still a high school kid, Wren-at-Dawn was a man.  And Wren-at-Dawn thought that what Venutha needed was a swift kiss.  He could do that.  He could kiss the Queen.

 

            With Hreno’s and Jeremy’s help, Wren-at-Dawn only had one stable left to do.  They were showered and dressed for church and whistling up horses when Magyar rubbed her head against Jeremy’s leg.  He bent down and cupped her head lovingly in his hands.

            “I’m going to stay in the bunkhouse while you go on to church.”

“Are you OK?” Jeremy asked.

            “Sure.  It’s just been a long morning.  And Ohamaha has started nesting, so I’d just as soon stay out of her way for a while.”

            The boy pressed soft kisses on his dog’s forehead.  “I love you.”

            “I love you, too.”

            Hreno put her hand on his elbow as they watched the ancient warrior pad slowly back to the boy’s bunkhouse.  Jeremy looked down at her, tears filling his eyes, “She’s dying.”

Hreno nodded but didn’t say anything.  She was great that way.

 

Chinan pulled the truck up to the farmhouse.  The truck’s front right headlight was busted.

“What happened?” Wren-at-Dawn asked calmly. 

Chinan shook his head and tried to match the horseman’s reserve.  “I went into town this morning.”

The truck bounced as a dozen teens climbed into the truck bed or the backseat – depending on their seniority.

“Courtney’s a pretty girl,” Wren-at-Dawn nodded.

“I met with her family at Bob Evans.  They’re good people. And they like me.”

“Crazy people,” Jeremy gently shoved the young horseman’s head toward the steering wheel.

“When I came out, the light was busted.”  He picked a wadded piece of paper up and handed it to Wren-at-Dawn.  This was on the windshield.  I can’t read, but it made Courtney blush and her father got angry and said perhaps I should think about moving into town.”

Wren-at-Dawn handed the paper to Jeremy.  “And?”

“And start going to First Baptist.”

Jeremy read the message aloud, “Go home you damned freaks.”

“You shouldn’t have gone alone.”

Jeremy scowled but didn’t question Wren-at-Dawn in front of the others.

“Take a dog with you, or let one of the other horsemen ride along.”

“Yes, Wren-at-Dawn.”

“Make sure all the Horsemen and Dog Guards know this.  There are some people in town who have their minds set to hate us.  We don’t need any trouble while Pop and Dad are away.”

Hreno leaned into Jeremy’s ear and whispered, “Atticus and the priest of First Baptist are having talks.  But not a week goes by that one of our trucks doesn’t get damaged – slashed tires, busted lights, dented panels.  And they like leaving nasty messages on the windshield or painted on the doors.”

Venusha leaned into him from the other side, “Sometimes they pee in the cab.  We have to lock the doors.”

Excerpt from

To Hold Back the Dark

© Evelyn Rainey

Available for publication.

 

HORSERADISH BEETS

1 1-pound can sliced beets

3 Tbsp sugar

1 Tbsp cornstarch

1 ½ tsp salt

1 ½ tsp vinegar

2 tsp horseradish

1 Tbsp butter/margarine

Drain beets, reserving liquid. Place beets in greased 1 ½ quart casserole. Blend sugar, cornstarch and salt. Stir in ¾ cup beet liquid and vinegar. Add remaining ingredients; bring to boil, stirring constantly. Pour over beets; cover. Bake at 350 for 30 minutes. Yield: 4 servings.

(Mrs. E. W. Henry, Frogmore, SC © Southern Living 1968)

Gluten-free and Vegetarian/Vegan Recipes

To meet my needs of being “gluten-free”, there are no ingredients that have wheat in them. Since one out of one-hundred people now have problems with the way the United States processes their foods, there are plenty of brands which are marked GF Gluten-free. However, read all the way around the label and determine if there might be traces of wheat or if the product was processed in a plant or on machinery that also handles wheat. (These statements are usually NOT found near the list of ingredients.) If this is the case and you are gluten-sensitive or have a wheat-toxicity, don’t use it!

I also deleted recipes which called for hidden gluten – like shrimp, frozen mangoes and parsnips.

Vegetarian foods allow the use of milk, honey, eggs, and other non-kill animal products; vegans do not. I have endeavored to post only recipes with vegan-appropriate ingredients. If I really liked something, though, that was vegetarian rather than vegan, I will note it.

Whenever possible, use non-GMO products (non-genetically modified).  If you think gmo’s are ok for you, you haven’t read any science fiction books, let alone Charles Darwin.

These recipes are not an attempt to substitute wheat or animal ingredients with something else. These recipes are “naturally” or originally gluten-free and vegetarian/vegan.