Sherry Chapmanby Sherry Chapman
First published in Winter, 2009, Volume 6, Issue 3, The Hatchet: Journal of Lizzie Borden Studies.
Well, I dunno who’d believe me if I told ‘em that I just finished my writin’ here an’ it flew off into God’s waitin’ hands, I gess. So I won’t bother to tell ya that. Now I’m gonna be sittin’ here twice as long in the kitchen, and if I get caught there’ll be voice raisin fer sure. Makes it kinda fun.
So Springtime is finally here. And ‘tis glad I am about that. I’ve been openin’ a couple of windows in some of the rooms every day to try to get some of the stale smell out of the rooms.
The girls are doin’ their spring cleanin’ upstairs. Miss Lizzie musta cut herself on somethin’ cuz she calls down to me, “Maggie! How do you get blood out of a carpet?” And I says, “I don’t know nuthin’ that works. Dye the whole thing red.” And she got mad. ‘Twas truly the best answer I could think of. But she figgered I was bein sassy. “Watch your tongue!” she says. I made a good face in her direction, but I was glad she couldna see.
Mr. Borrden wasn’t in any better a mood this mornin’. He heard the girls talkin’ about takin some of his eggs from the farm and dyein ‘em so they’d be Easter Eggs. Oh, waste not want not musta been the first words he learned to say. “I’ll get your eggs – and free. From the bahn.” So he goes out there and pretty soon he comes in with a bunch of pijun eggs. He lays ‘em on the table and says, “There. There’s your eggs. And money didn’t have to come out of my pocket for another one of your whims, Girl.”
When he left the room, Miss Lizzie she cried and cried. “Babies! These were going to be babies!” and she plunked them into the kettle of boilin’ water that was on the stove. I don’t know why she just didn’t put the eggs back in the bahn.
Well, today I’m gonna show ya how to make an Easter favorite I make here for the Borrdens. The girls like it because it don’t put no weight on ‘em. Mr. Borrden likes it cuz it’s cheap. And Mrs. Borden, she eats it. She eats ennything. Tis sad to see. She just eats mindlessly. And eats. And eats.
Join me in the kitchen, why doncha, and I’ll show ya how to make
IRISH CARROT SOUP
Yer gonna need:
Olive oil, 2 big spoons full
Carrots, sliced and peeled, about 2 pounds
Onion, one big one and chop it finely
Garlic cloves, 6. Peel ‘em
5 whole cloves
Vegetable broth or water, about 4 cups
Fresh lemon juice,
1 big spoon full A pinch of sugar
Chilled whipping cream
one fourth of one cup Fresh parsley, chopped
Heat yer oil in a big pan. Put in yer carrots, onion, garlic and cloves, then ya fry ‘em until the onion ain’t white ennymore. Add almost all the water or broth. Then ya cover the pan and simmer it till the carrots are good and soft. Stir it once in a while. It should take about half an hour.
Take the cloves out of the broth and throw ‘em away. I can’t let Mr. Borrden see me doin’ that. Mash up the carrots and stuff till it’s creamy. Somebuddy probably invented somethin’ electric for this job but you know Mr. Borrden. Put the soup back in its pan and mix yer lemon juice and sugar in. Put what salt and pepper in that ya want. If it needs to be thinner (and it will) just put more broth in till it’s to yer fancy.
Now take a whisk (we have one of those) and whip yer cream till ya count to about 10, when it’s slightly thickened. Heat the soup thru and stir it or you’ll be sorry. Put it in bowls, then put a little drizzle of cream on top and on top of that sprinkle some parsley on it.
May the blessings of God’s soft rain be on you,
Falling gently on your head,
Refreshing your soul,
Trooping up the misty ways
When yer fire burns low.
