The Maynard Gang

I remarked to my sister, Linda Davis, recently that I had cooked an old fashioned dish for my supper. Cutting up a rack of baby back pork ribs, I salted and peppered them and fried them in an iron skillet. I was astonished that hardly anyone I suggested the idea to had even eaten fried ribs or even heard of such, even those older than me. My thought was that the conversation would trigger memories of “hawg killin” in their youth.
My sister informed me that even at 72 and 73 years of age, “we are two of the last”. No doubt, in terms of having lived in our traditional upland South culture, she is quite right. At the risk of offending dietitians and home economics teachers and tempting fellow diabetics to transgress, I must report that if you “get a good scald on em”, they are crunchy, juicy, and delicious.

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