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Updated: May 8, 2025
Potatoes and onions fried together have a lovely tendency to stick to the frying pan, especially if there is not too much grease, and if they are fried very slowly. Cash would have to do some washing and scraping, when it came his turn to cook. Bud knew just about how mad that would make Cash, and he dwelt upon the prospect relishfully. Bud never wanted potatoes for his breakfast.
I can cook, boy, in a way to make your mother's Sunday dinner, with company expected, look like Mrs. Newlywed's first attempt at 'riz' biscuits. And I don't mean any disrespect to your mother when I say it. I'm going to have noodle-soup, and fried chicken, and hot biscuits, and creamed beans from our own garden, and strawberry shortcake with real " "Hush!" shouted Sam.
It was a farmer's dinner, as it used to be in southern Ohio fifty years ago: a deep dish of fried salt pork swimming in its own fat, plenty of shortened biscuit and warm green-apple sauce, with good butter. The Boy's Town boys did not like the looks of the fat pork, but they were wolf-hungry, and the biscuit were splendid.
On reaching the edge of the forest, we sat down and ate our dinners under the shade each man having brought a little bag containing a few handsfull of farinha, and a piece of fried fish or roast turtle. An obstacle here presented itself on which we had not counted.
The giant smiled uneasily: "I'm keepin' out o' the sun an' a-takin' keer o' my health," he said, and his eyes dropped hungrily to the corn pone and fried fish, but the boy shook his head sturdily. "You can't git nothin' to eat from me, Babe Honeycutt." "Now, looky hyeh, Jason " "Not a durn bite," said the boy firmly, "even if you air my mammy's brother.
It was all grand in the extreme, but somehow I felt, as did Bob and Bigley, that a well-spread tea-table with some hot fried ham and some eggs, with new bread, would have been worth it all. I am almost ashamed to put this down, but my companions confided their feelings to me afterwards, and it is perfectly true.
Then she rose to her exquisite house, and got breakfast ready, according to the unswerving programme of the day. Fried chicken and mince pie: she had had them as a child, and now they were scrupulously prepared. After breakfast, she sat down in the sunshine, and watched the people go by to service in Tiverton Church.
And she fried them in the melted butter which the Tigers had made, and they were just as yellow and brown as little Tigers. And then they all sat down to supper. And Black Mumbo ate Twenty-seven pancakes, and Black Jumbo ate Fifty-five but Little Black Sambo ate a Hundred and Sixty-nine, because he was so hungry. By Helen Bannerman
There were different preserves; and, among other things, was a sort of bread made of equal parts of flour and meat reduced to powder and worked together with a little lard, which boiled in water made excellent soup; and there were rashers of fried ham, and for drink there was tea. Neither had Frycollin been forgotten. He was taken forward and there found some strong soup made of this bread.
"You bet it's 'a pair' that will take your 'two knaves, you and your Lord Brownstone," returned Golly, dropping a mock courtesy. "Ta-ta; I'm going on the stage." She went first into a tobacconist's and sold cigarettes. Sometimes she suffered from actual want, and ate fried fish. "Do you know how nice fried fish tastes in London, you on 'the Oilan'?" she wrote gayly.
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