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Onions

Okay, no more spiders. Onions!

Yet another sign Fall is upon us — the onions were ready for harvest. Uncle B planted me a whole bed of them this year, and there they are.

Have I ever told y’all I have a kind of a special family relationship with onions? I was weaned on one. For reals. Instead of a binky, I got to suck on a green onion.

My grandmother was so fond of onions, she carried on eating them even after she developed some nasty stomach problems. She’d eat onions, then she’d double over in pain. But she persisted.

My mother had a bowl of onions as the centerpiece on the dining room table. At Christmas, we got onions in our stockings (among other things — the onions were filler. She collected them from us to make Christmas lunch).

There is no finer fragrance than onions frying in bacon grease. Ah, but the ladies of the Stoat fambly are serious alliumophiles.

sock it to me

August 9, 2012 — 10:40 pm
Comments: 28