Step 3: Carry it around for a minute or two and show it off. Startle your parents—or, if you are me, your husband.
Step 4: Release back into the pond.
But they also taught me to strive for behavior that was beautiful. And in my mother’s and grandmother’s eyes, what was beautiful was treating others with respect and putting your best foot forward. Taking care of your community was beautiful, as was doing nice things for others. My grandma always said, “Pretty is as pretty does.” People aren’t pretty if they act ugly.
One time my grandma caught me chewing gum. She said, “The only appropriate place to chew gum is behind a door.” One time I really wanted to chew gum, so I went behind the door to do it, just to prove a point. But it made me realize that some people think it’s rude to chew gum around them. I like gum. But I was able to see my grandmother’s perspective: there is a time and a place for chewing gum, because, let’s just face it, it can be a little gross watching other people chew.
Business Lessons
One other thing the South gave me as a child was a good work ethic. I had two business ventures as a young person, and both taught me lessons that I still put into practice today.
The first was a lemonade stand. I think a lemonade stand is a really good way for kids to learn about business. My brother and I took it very seriously. We would fill one of my mom’s huge tea pitchers with ice-cold lemonade and set up our table with paper cups, napkins, and a Mason jar to hold our money.
John and I always fought about pricing. He is four years older and thought we should be charging more than I thought we should. We would compromise on a quarter a cup, because we could take those quarters straight to the arcade afterward.
Creating the sign for the lemonade stand was my favorite part. Give me markers and some poster board, and I’m in my element. I also liked innovating: I’d find ways for our stand to be special, such as putting mint leaves in each cup, or having both iced tea and lemonade so people could create their own Arnold Palmer.
Being the loudmouth of the family, I was also the designated barker. I would flag down cars and harangue people into extra cups (“Doesn’t your husband want a cup, too?”). My brother and I developed quite a reputation on our block for running a tidy business.
Our second venture was our more innovative by far. It all began in third grade with some hair clips. I spotted them at the mall. They were very cool and just fifty cents apiece, and they were glimmering with potential. I had my brother front me some money as an investment, so I could get a lot of them and some paint pens.
I wrote my name with paint pen on the barrettes, wore them to school, and waited for other girls to notice. It didn’t take long. Soon they started asking me if I’d make them barrettes. Sure, I would: for $2. They would meet me at my desk before or after school, and in bubble letters I’d write their name or a chosen slogan in paint pen for a markup of $1.50. The orders poured in. It became like a status symbol: everybody had to have a hair clip. And so began my first real triumph in the entrepreneurial space.
I learned a lot of principles of business that way. I learned about pricing, and that margins are important. I learned that the customer is always right. If she didn’t like the writing, I had to redo it and absorb the cost of the one that she didn’t like. I learned that marketing is everything.
But I flew too close to the sun. I spent more time on my barrette business than on schoolwork, became a distraction to the girls around me, and got paint pen all over my desk. As a result, I got into a lot of trouble and my business was shut down by my third-grade teacher. Ah, the hazards of an elementary school start-up . . .
In both the lemonade-stand and barrette businesses, I loved learning about how business works. I was fascinated with the idea of turning a profit. I wasn’t afraid of hard work, and I liked engaging the market. It made me understand supply and demand. Also, I did like making enough cash to maintain my very expensive sticker collection.
People of my generation might remember this phenomenon: We had books with all kinds of stickers, from scratch-and-sniff ones to shiny backs to puffy ones. Garfield. Peanuts. All of it. But the hardest to get, most desirable ones by far were Mystiks. They had a sort of plasma inside (some people called them “oilies”) and usually had cosmic, dreamy themes, such as unicorns or wizards. A penguin with a bow tie. Butterflies! Sharks! Poodles! Hot-air balloons! They were a dollar each. A dollar!
All I can say is, it’s good I was doing so well with my businesses, because I needed those stickers—bad. How 1980s businesspeople got kids addicted to stickers, I will never understand, but it was pretty pervasive.
The main thing I learned from all my entrepreneurial success was that working with my brother on the funding for the hair clip venture or on selling lemonade made those things more fun. To this day, it’s important to me to really enjoy the people I work with. That’s another thing that I learned way back in elementary school: Don’t go into business with people you don’t like, because you never know whether or not you’ll be successful in the end, so it’s important to enjoy the journey.
These days, I don’t start a movie, a television show, or a business with people I’m not ready to spend a lot of time with, because, let’s face it, if work is fun, it doesn’t feel like work. For example, I always have the best time working on movies shot in the South that are about southern people. (I have been lucky enough to work in Tennessee, North Carolina, Arkansas, Texas, Georgia, South Carolina, and West Virginia.) Plus, it’s nice when I get to be on a movie set and talk in my native accent. I feel like I’m putting on an old pair of slippers that fit just right.
MAKES ABOUT 1 GALLON
Lemonade-Stand Lemonade
* * *
12 lemons
1 cup sugar
6 cups cold water
* * *
1. Finely grate the zest of two of the lemons. Place the zest and sugar into a small saucepan with one cup of the water. Bring to a boil over high heat and reduce to a simmer. Stir until the sugar dissolves. Remove from heat and let stand for 10 minutes.
2. While the sugar syrup cools, juice the lemons (you should have about 1 cup fresh lemon juice). Place the juice in a gallon-sized jar. Pour the cooled syrup into the jar through a mesh strainer. Discard the solids. Pour the cold water into the jar and top with a tight-fitting lid. Shake well to combine. Chill until ready to use. Serve over ice. Adjust the sugar to sweeten to your liking.
Note: Heating lemon zest with the sugar and water boosts the lemony flavor.
Doesn’t a house feel more like a home with a dog waiting on the doorstep for you?
The Dog House
While we’re on the subject of children, I must say I’m very much in favor of children having pets. I myself am partial to dogs. Some of my favorite acquaintances are dogs! I have had many and often name them after famous figures, such as Coco Chanel. My mother started out with Yorkshire terriers named Cricket and Mr. Leo. The next dog was Sarah, my tiny black teacup poodle. For Christmas when I was five, I chose her over a bike. Then we had a dachshund named Boo-Boo. Then another Yorkie named Dixie, who ended up being toothless and bald, which was a real tragedy, though she took it in stride. My mother loved her dearly. I wasn’t as big a fan. Then I had a Chihuahua named Chi-Chi. (That was even before I was in the movie Legally Blonde. Bizarre coincidence, right?) Then I had an English Bulldog named Frank Sinatra. (I am personally obsessed with bulldogs, and the University of Georgia Bulldogs mascot, Uga, happens to be the most adorable English bulldog you’ve ever seen. Of all the mascots of all the SEC teams, he’s my favorite. You can’t be sad watching Uga drool on his little red sweater.)
These days, we have a French bulldog named Pepper; Hank Williams, a chocolate Lab; and a German shepherd named Nashville, whom I call “The Sheriff.” That’s because he’s the law around these parts. Growing up, I always dreamed of having a bunch of dogs around, and now I do. I don’t even mind that my house smells like a kennel . . . Well, maybe I mind a little. I cons
ider myself lucky that my husband loves dogs, too!
Honestly, everybody in the South talks about their dogs as if they were members of the family, and the dogs run wild there. Dogs have the best life in the South, because you just don’t ever put a dog behind a fence. You wouldn’t do that to someone in your family, and you certainly wouldn’t do that to the family pet. Dogs wandered free around my neighborhood, no leashes or enclosures. Jubilee, our neighbors’ dog, would come over and hang out at our house all the time, and no one thought it was strange. We played with the dogs as much as we played with other kids. They were part of our community.
Is this dog’s collar monogrammed? Why, yes. Yes it is.
Dogs were always just around. On mornings my parents drove car pool, every one of my friends would run out to the car with some sort of hunting dog as their escort. There were always dogs chasing the car back down the drive and running around the neighborhood as though they owned it.
My mother always said you need a dog to teach you responsibility, but I don’t think that’s the main lesson dogs have for us. I think they help us understand unconditional love and that humans aren’t the only beings in the universe. Dogs bring out our compassion—something that’s much needed in the world right now. They provide us with companionship and acceptance. I mean, what’s better than chasing a dog? Or a dog chasing you? Or making another little creature happy? We get so much love and joy from spending time with our dogs.
Truthfully, we spoil our dogs to no end. They watch TV with us. My dogs hit the dog lottery. For example, I would never stop our chocolate Lab from rolling in the mud and then getting into the pool and then rolling in mud again and then coming inside. Because he’s our dog. It’s my philosophy that a dog can’t be made to not get up on the furniture, and so the furniture must be dog-proof. We adapt to dogs rather than expecting them to behave like something other than what they are.
I’ve been blessed with so many really special animals in my life. Don’t even get me started about horses. When I was a girl, I rode horses one summer at camp and learned how to take care of them. It was a lot of work, but my mom thought it was important for children to learn some manual labor. Even if I did get stomped on and bucked off too many times, I always got right back on the next day. And there has been a payoff: as it turns out, I’m always riding in movies and in photo shoots, and it’s fun for me rather than scary. I must project an air of confidence on the sets, because no one ever hesitates to stick me on a horse or hand me a baby. I can’t complain. I like horses, and I like babies.
Once I even got to work with an elephant. It was a magical experience. She communicated like a human being, I swear. It’s such a privilege for me to be close to animals and get to work with them, because my grandma always used to say—and I say this to my kids all the time—you have to treat God’s innocent creatures with kindness. Just because they can’t speak, it doesn’t mean they don’t have feelings. A big part of growing up with respect for animals is letting the joy of having an animal into your life. It’s a really beautiful thing for kids. It gives you deep compassion.
To this day, one question I find myself asking people is whether or not they’ve had that experience of bonding with an animal and feeling as though it had a human soul. The stories you hear! Almost all those I ask say there is or was a truly special animal in their life, usually a dog or a cat that they felt close to. I usually like those people best.
MENU
summer porch picnic
* * *
When it comes to lazy summer days with kids and dogs running around, the best way to eat dinner is outside under tree cover or on the porch. In such weather, no one says no to a picnic, especially if we’re talking about my grandmother’s fried chicken (just as good cold as hot!), okra, and squash.
* * *
Dorothea’s Corn Salad
Dorothea’s Brined-and-Battered Fried Chicken
Summer Squash Casserole
Fried Okra
Tutti-Frutti Ice Cream
SERVES 6
Dorothea’s Corn Salad
* * *
Dorothea was against two things: picking corn more than a day before you ate it and refrigerating a tomato. The natural sugars in sweet corn turn to starch soon after picking, so pick it or buy it from a farm stand the day you plan to cook it. Tomatoes get mealy and mushy when refrigerated, so keep them on a counter or windowsill until ready to use.
* * *
1/4 cup white wine vinegar
2 tablespoons fresh lime juice (from 1 lime)
2 teaspoons Dijon mustard
1 teaspoon kosher salt
1/4 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper
1/2 teaspoon honey
1 shallot, finely chopped
1/2 cup extra-virgin olive oil
8 ears corn, shucked, kernels removed (about 6 cups)
2 pints cherry tomatoes, halved
1 bunch green onions, white and light green parts only, thinly sliced
1 cup lightly packed fresh herb leaves, finely chopped; use a mix of whatever summer herbs you like best, such as basil, cilantro, chives, tarragon, and flat-leaf parsley
* * *
1. Combine the vinegar, lime juice, Dijon mustard, salt, pepper, honey, and shallot in a small jar and set aside for 10 minutes to allow the shallots to soften and flavor the vinegar. Add the oil, secure the lid on the jar, and shake vigorously for 30 seconds to emulsify the dressing.
2. Combine the corn, tomatoes, green onions, and herbs in a large bowl. Add the dressing and toss well to combine. Season the salad with more salt and pepper to taste. Serve at room temperature, or cover and chill until ready to serve.
SERVES 4 TO 6
Dorothea’s Brined-and-Battered Fried Chicken
* * *
My grandmother made the best fried chicken. Going through family recipes, I found a tattered and splattered cookbook by Mrs. S. R. Dull called Southern Cooking and inscribed “Dorothea Witherspoon, May 14, 1942, Decatur, Georgia.” Inside was a recipe for fried chicken with cream gravy, along with several index cards in my grandmother’s handwriting for other versions of fried chicken. This recipe blends them all and is a great match for the fried chicken she made. Soaking the chicken pieces overnight in low-fat buttermilk mixed with your favorite hot sauce boosts flavor and tenderness. (Hot sauce has quite a bit of sodium in it, so it acts as a brine.) Double this recipe for hearty eaters.
* * *
1 pint buttermilk mixed with 1/4 cup hot sauce (optional)
One 11/2- to 2-pound chicken, cut into 8 pieces
2 cups all-purpose flour
1 tablespoon kosher salt
1 tablespoon onion powder
1 tablespoon garlic powder
1 tablespoon hot paprika
1 tablespoon freshly ground black pepper
2 cups whole milk
2 large eggs, beaten
Peanut or vegetable oil for frying
Creamy Gravy (optional; recipe follows)
* * *
1. Pour the buttermilk–hot sauce mixture into a large zip-lock bag, add the chicken pieces, seal, and place the bag in the refrigerator to let the chicken soak for at least 8 hours or up to 24 hours before frying. Set the bag aside to come to room temperature at least 30 minutes before frying. Drain in a colander, discarding the brine.
2. Combine the flour, salt, onion and garlic powders, paprika, and pepper in a heavy-duty paper bag. Whisk the milk and eggs together in a shallow dish. Drop several of the chicken pieces into the bag of seasoned flour, seal, and shake to coat the pieces thoroughly. Open the bag and dip the floured pieces in the egg wash. Return them to the bag of flour and shake to coat again. Set them aside on a wire rack while you repeat the process with the remaining pieces—flour, egg wash, flour.
3. Heat at least 3 inches of oil in a Dutch oven over medium-high heat until it reaches 325°F on a frying or candy thermometer. Carefully slip the chicken breast pieces, skin side down, into the hot oil. The oil tem
perature will drop. Regulate the heat to maintain a temperature of 325°F. Cook the breasts for about 7 minutes without moving them. Turn and cook for 7 to 8 minutes more without disturbing them. The chicken is cooked when it reaches 160°F on an instant-read thermometer. Add the legs and thighs and fry, undisturbed, for about 8 to 10 minutes, turning once halfway through cooking. Maintain the temperature of the oil and fry the chicken until the meat is cooked through and reaches an internal temperature of 160°F.
4. Remove the fried chicken to a clean rack set over a paper towel–lined sheet pan to soak up excess grease. Season with salt and pepper while hot, if desired. If making the gravy, reserve 2 tablespoons of the grease from the frying pan. Serve the chicken warm or at room temperature.
Creamy Gravy
* * *
2 tablespoons grease from frying the chicken
2 tablespoons butter
1/4 cup all-purpose flour
1 cup chicken stock
1 cup heavy cream
Kosher salt
Freshly ground black pepper
* * *
Place 2 tablespoons hot grease from frying the chicken in a small skillet over medium-high heat. Add the butter and, when the foam subsides, sprinkle the flour over the hot fat, whisking constantly, to make a roux. Cook until the roux is golden brown, about 1 minute. Whisk in the chicken stock and cream. Stir until smooth and thickened, 5 minutes more. Add salt and pepper to taste. Transfer to a warm gravy boat for serving.
Whiskey in a Teacup Page 9