RRN Online Volume 554

January 13 '07

Volume 554

‘Lasses And Molasses By Ralph Jones

Pantry Syrups After having read most of what Mr. Carter has written in the Ridge Rider Newsabout Golden Eagle Syrup, I want to add my two cents worth to the adoration of this wonderfully sweet elixir. Whether you enjoy molasses, syrup, or something in between, it’s all good. I enjoy "Golden Eagle" myself and have a jar in our cupboard now.

Having grown up there in Pontotoc, molasses and syrups were a staple on our table. We usually ate some kind of molasses several mornings each week. There was nothing more delectable than molasses or syrup over some of Mom’s delicious biscuits and real cow butter (much of which was milked and churned by yours truly).

Dad was a connoisseur of molasses. In the fall Dad sought out people who made sorghum molasses locally and also searched out peddlers and stores who regularly carried real homemade sorghum molasses. When we ran out and we relied on the store brands, most were good and we enjoyed them, but our first choice was sorghum. Occasionally we got a container of what was supposed to be sorghum molasses, when in reality they were just "sorghum-flavored" syrup.

"These ain’t sorghum, they’re just "South Mississippi Syrup," Dad would say.

He did not particularly like many of the "cane" syrups. We would go ahead and eat them until we tired of them, then they would go to the shelf and sit for a spell. More such purchases would be made until our shelf was full of partially empty containers of syrups.

Mom "wanted not, because she wasted not", as the old saying goes. Somewhere along this time she would clean out the cabinet of all the different syrups. She would light the stove and began to pour all the leftover syrups and molasses into a large pan. As they cooked she tasted, adding a little of this and a little of that, until her taste buds said it was just right. She cooked, and stirred until the concoction was thoroughly blended. When she was finished it was a real taste treat. Neither sorghum, nor syrup, but a blend; you might call "surp-o-lasses." No two batches tasted the same.

Today I took an inventory of my wife’s cupboard just to see what we had and found the following:

"Golden Eagle" Original - since 1928 – Fayette, AL
"Stholl’s Sorghum Molasses" – Finger, TN
"Mr. P’s Soggie Bottom Sorghum Molasses" table syrup – Dekalb, MS
"ALAGA" Syrup "The Original Cane Flavor" Montgomery, AL
"Karo Light Corn Syrup" since 1902 – Distributed out of Memphis, TN
"Grandma’s Molasses Original" unsulphured – Stamford, CT
"Ludlow’s Resiphe, Lasses ‘n Sir-up Blend – Germantown, TN

Of the above brands/kinds, most are good in their own right, however the last one "Ludlow’s Resiphe", is a hold over from Mom’s kitchen, and is delicious, even if I do say so myself. It is a mixture of every kind of syrup in the cupboard at the time they were made.

I have inquired about the recipe from Ludlow (he’s my cousin twice removed; he’s been removed twice but he keeps coming back), but he only says that if he tells me the secret formula, then he’ll have to kill me. He probably learned it from my Mom and her only recipe was to mix it till it tasted right, then it was done.

Mom had another "secret" up her sleeve, although it was probably well known to many folks around there at the time. Some mornings we would get up and the biscuits would already be in the stove baking only to remember we were out of all kinds of syrups. It didn’t bother her in the least. She just lit an eye on the stove and put water on to boil. Soon she added a heap of sugar.

Now, don’t ask how much or how long or what else, that’s all I ever saw her put into the mix. When it was done, it resembled white Karo and tasted similar, but "gooder" than Karo. She’d take that off the stove nearly boiling and pour it over your biscuits and you’d thought you was eating Manna straight from Heaven. It was so good that it would almost make you "swaller yore tongue." Wish I had some now!

I do like my molasses and syrups. So many different kinds are readily available at the grocery store. However, real open pan cooked sorghum molasses without any additives are harder to find. Many of the Amish communities make sorghum molasses for their own use and to sell. Stholl’s Molasses is from an Amish community south of Jackson, TN and usually sells their product in the Memphis area at fresh vegetable stores. There is an Amish community there in Pontotoc County, southwest of Springville, that makes molasses and offers them for sale. The last that I bought there were the best molasses I have ever eaten.

In an old song, remembered from my youth, one of the verses says:

"I likes molasses, good ole country sorghums,
I eats ‘em in the winter and the fall,
When they trickle down my chin
and I licks ‘em up agin’,
that’s when I likes ‘em most of all".

Where that old song came from, or who wrote it, I haven’t a clue. It has been around as long as I can remember. It says it just the way I feel. Most of all I likes ‘lasses, mo-‘lasses, syrups, fake syrups, ribbon cane syrup, Louisiana syrup, corn syrup, and most any concoction that fall in between. Plus, we haven’t even mentioned honey; but that’s another story.

Are the biscuits ready yet?

By Ralph Jones, Germantown, Tennessee

Note: Syrups pictured above are from the pantry of Wayne and Barbara Carter:

Karo Dark Corn Syurp,
Hillbilly Soppin Sorghum, Pulaski, TN
French Camp Academy Sorghum Molasses, French Camp, MS
Golden Eagle Syrup, Fayette, AL.
Pure Honey by Honey Bee Hendrix West Point, MS;
Sorghum Molasses (unbranded),
Pure Maple Syrup by Morse Farm Sugar Works, Montpelier, VT.

Northwest Passage Bypassing Bruce

For the past seventeen years, in my travels with SUPERVALU, there have not been many weeks that I’ve not motored to Indianola and back to Pontotoc at least once a week and often twice or more. There are more than a handful of routes to traverse the distance that spans one hundred thirty or more miles. Most of these routes include a trip through Bruce, roughly thirty miles southeast of Pontotoc. If my car were a horse it would have long ago learned the road most traveled, and I could "saddle up" and set the controls to auto pilot. But, my car doesn’t have a mammal’s brain, and it can’t learn the way from repetitive trips.

For years, I’ve varied my route to and from Indianola, most often traveling the shortest of the several paths from which to choose but sometimes selecting the safest route for nighttime or the easiest to navigate in bad weather. In winter, I sometimes choose the route that affords the opportunity to see the most red-tailed hawks, which is the most northerly of all routes, passing largely through Delta towns such as Marks, Tutwiler, and Drew, and Ruleville.

Long ago, I learned the quickest and shortest route passed through Bruce and Coffeeville but only recently did I learn there was a northwest passage just north of Bruce that lopped about five miles off my shortest route. How I found this route was a combination of a means to avoid road construction and a bit of an adventuresome spirit.

When SUPERVALU had an account in Water Valley, I experimented with various routes to Water Valley from Pontotoc. There were drawbacks to all of the routes in that the quickest was not the shortest and the shortest was not the safest and there wasn’t five minutes difference in any of them. Yet, I discovered I could travel almost to Bruce then turn west to Banner, travel north a few miles (toward Oxford) and hit a highway that took me into the center of downtown Water Valley.

A few months ago, I chose to avoid the Coffeeville to Bruce route, when returning from Indianola, because I thought I had seen road signs outside of Coffeeville stating motorist should be cautious of loose material. For me, that meant the road was being resurfaced with tar and crushed rock, and even one mile of driving on crushed rock will dust up a black car in a hurry. My memory must be somewhat faulty because the road I thought was to be resurfaced has not been touched, so far.

However, I was almost to Coffeeville on my trip back home when I recalled the possibility of having to drive on crushed rock. My first instinct was to continue to Water Valley then on to Oxford and hit the four-lane to Pontotoc. I might have driven that way, except when I got to the four-way stop on the bypass near Coffeeville, I decided to take the back-country to Banner and cut over to Hwy 9 a few miles southeast of the Pontotoc County line.

A few days later I was about to backtrack along the same route to Indianola, but when I got to Banner, a pickup in front of me went straight across Hwy 7 at the point where I had always turned right. The tag on the pickup was registered in Yalobusha County, whose county seat is Water Valley. I went ahead and turned right as planned, but as I considered that the pickup might be on its way to Water Valley, I pulled off the highway and consulted my map of Mississippi.

I had never noticed, but the squiggly lines on the map going west from Banner appeared to connect to Coffeeville and/or Water Valley.

"What have I got to lose?" I considered. "If I miss Coffeeville, I’ll probably end up in Water Valley, and it doesn’t look as though the mileage is much different from my planned route."

I turned around and drove the mile back to Banner and with map in hand drove west toward Coffeeville. I had not driven far until I realized that county roads aren’t as smooth as state roads. Plus, this one had a few curves where it’s best to keep ones speed closer to forty than fifty-five.

Near Coffeeville A few minutes later, the county road teed with another road, and without any signs I wasn’t sure whether to turn left or right. My map showed I would eventually make a left turn to get to Coffeeville, but I wasn’t sure I’d driven far enough, so I turned right instead and noted a couple of landmarks in case I had to retrace my journey.

A mile down the new road a marker told me I was on Hwy 32, and I knew I could at least get to Water Valley on this road. About ten minutes later, another marker read "Coffeeville," to the left. I turned at the intersection and soon found this road to be the hilliest, curviest, and jerkiest of them all. I decided it was constructed by someone in the rollercoaster business.

After getting pummeled for perhaps fifteen miles, I noticed I had entered an unnamed community and presumed I was near Coffeeville. I soon realized I was in a neighborhood of Coffeeville, but I had no idea which way to go at the intersection I was approaching. It was another "T."

The vehicle in front of me turned right, so I did the same. We passed two more intersections before coming to another "T." I wasn’t sure where I was until I could look both left and right at the "T." I saw a caution light to my left and felt sure I was back on familiar ground. Sure enough, when I got to the caution light, I could see Coffeeville High School and was within a half mile of where I would have been had I made the drive from Bruce to Coffeeville.

I checked mileage when I got to my office in Indianola and was surprised to note I had driven fewer miles than even on what had been my shortest route.

Since discovering a northwest passage around Bruce, I have driven the new route several times. In the autumn the foliage was simply beautiful, and I liked having less traffic with which to contend. It’s a rough ride, but when I’m sleepy the roughness keeps me awake. I avoid the new route at night because I’ve seen too many deer along the way, dead and alive. The new route is about five miles shorter than any other route, but it still takes two hours and fifteen minutes to get from Indianola to Pontotoc which ties the fastest of my known routes.

Probably the best reason to avoid the new route involves concern for ones welfare. The various road signs along the way, especially those between Hwy 32 and Coffeeville, are vivid reminders that rednecks live among us. Most signs have been used for target practice on multiple occasions. The thought of someone using a road sign to sight-in the scope of a high powered rifle is scary, and to drive along a mostly deserted road where such signs exist is even scarier when one has no way of knowing if a bullet intended for a road sign has, instead, his or her name on it.

The newfound northwest passage is not recommended for all travelers, but if a change of scenery is desired, it’s a good route from Pontotoc to Coffeeville.

Bodock Beau Lawn Mower

Perhaps some readers will find the following amusing. I enjoyed both of them, if that helps anyone.

Lawn Mower

When our lawn mower broke and wouldn't run, my wife kept hinting to me that I should get it fixed. But, somehow I always had something else to take care of first, the truck, the car, and fishing, always something more important to me. Finally she thought of a clever way to make her point.

When I arrived home one day, I found her seated in the tall grass, busily snipping away with a tiny pair of sewing scissors.

I watched silently for a short time and then went into the house. I was gone only a few minutes. When I came out again I handed her a toothbrush.

"When you finish cutting the grass," I said, "you might as well sweep the side walk."

The doctors say I will walk again, but I will always have a limp.

Shared by Linda Ball Reeves

Snow Man’s No More

Once there was a snowman who stood outside the door.
He thought he’d like to come inside and play about the floor.
He thought he’d like to warm himself by the fire bright red.
He thought he’d like to climb upon the big white bed.
So he called to the north wind, "Help me now, I pray.
I’m completely frozen, standing out all day."
So the north wind came along and blew him in the door.
Now there’s nothing left but a puddle on the floor.

Source: Laugh Newsletter December 2006