Happy New Year 2011

Here's hoping 2011 will be our best year ever.

Happy New Year!!

Eric'sWeb

Big Billy's Catfish Gumbo - a weekend recipe

Here is a quick and easy dish Big Billy used to whip up when he entertained, which was often. Big Billy was so big and athletic that he could have made a career in pro football. Ironically, he was more into talking politics than watching sports on television. Still, his catfish gumbo is a perfect winter dish for watching college bowl games and the Super Bowl. This recipe serves eight.

Ingredients

• 2 lbs catfish filets, bite-sized

• 10 oz okra, sliced

• 1 c celery, chopped

• 1 c onion, chopped

• 1 c green pepper, chopped

• 2 cloves garlic, minced

• 3 T cooking oil

• 4 c beef broth

• 16 oz tomatoes, diced

• 1 bay leaf

• 1 t salt

• ½ t thyme, dried

• ½ t red pepper, ground

• ½ t oregano, dried, crushed

• 4 c rice, cooked, hot

Directions

In a large Dutch oven, cook celery, onion, green pepper and garlic in hot oil until tender. Stir in beef broth, tomatoes, bay leaf, salt, thyme, red pepper and oregano and bring to a boil. Cover, reduce heat and simmer for 15 minutes.

Add catfish bites and okra, uncover and return to a boil. Cover and simmer for about 15 minutes or until fish flakes easily. Remove and discard bay leaf. Serve in bowls over rice.

Eric'sWeb

Total Eclipse of the Moon

Thanksgiving circa 1980s,
from left to right: Mavis,
Anne, Jack, Grandma Dale, Isey

When I went outside very early this morning to watch the lunar eclipse, I realized I was in for a mystical treat. A golden moon brightened hazy sky, back dropped by luminous Christmas lights decorating neighbors’ houses. My big tomcat Goldie joined me as I watched the unfolding event.

I had no telescope and only gazed up at the lunar phenomenon with my naked eyes. The realization that I was witnessing a total lunar eclipse the same day as the Winter Solstice, two events that occur on the same day only once every four hundred years, or so, caused me to recall another story recounted many years ago by my Grandmother Dale O’Rear Rood. Grandmother Dale was born October 27, 1891. She was nineteen when she witnessed Halley’s Comet in 1910.

“Halley’s is the only naked-eye comet that a human can witness twice in a lifetime. Mark Twain saw it twice and so did Papa Pink. I’m going to live until it passes one more time.”

Grandmother Dale didn’t quite make it, dying February 27, 1985 at the age of 93, less than a year from the date (February 9, 1986) Halley’s Comet last passed close enough to Earth to be seen with the naked eye. She actually came closer than Papa Pink; despite his boasts to the contrary, John Pickney O’Rear was born September 9, 1837, almost two years after the comet’s passing November 16, 1835.

I thought about Grandma Rood’s story as I watched the moon disappear into darkness, and then reappear the color of burnished bronze. Goldie didn’t seem to care, but shared my moment like a spiritual being that somehow understood the importance of the celestial event.

Marilyn usually leaves the radio in our living room on all the time. I’m not a religious person, but I couldn’t help but reflect on the Christmas song, Oh Little Town of Bethlehem, playing as I opened the front door and cast one last glance at the sky. It caused me to reflect on my own existence. I won’t be around in 2061 when Halley’s Comet appears again, much less in four hundred years.

Giving Goldie, my big tom a last scratch behind the ears, I grinned, deciding not to ponder the thought further as I plodded off to bed.

Eric'sWeb

Morning Mist of Blood and the Supernatural

The rattlesnake tattoo on the cover of my new mystery novel Morning Mist of Blood is from a shell gorget found in a Mississippian mound  that dates back to around 1,300 BC. There are many similar gorgets that feature supernatural beasts like strange-headed rattlesnakes, spiders and the underwater panther.

Beaks, talons, claws and fangs were favorite "metaphorical expressions" of power, hunting skill, etc.  I'm not an archaeologist but it seems like there are many similarities with symbols from Mexico, Central America and other parts of the world, especially the all-seeing eye in the center of the human palm.

Tomorrow is the Winter Solstice and the park at Spiro, Oklahoma conducts a winter's solstice walk. The last guided tour (hike) starts at around 2pm and ends at the main Spiro Mound at sunset of the year's longest day. I was hoping to make it but it doesn't look like I will. So many interesting things to do and see and so little time. Oh well, maybe next year.

Eric'sWeb

Big Billy's Catfish Fajitas - a weekend recipe

It’s no secret that Big Billy, a Dallas restauranteur and Oklahoma oil man, loved to cook, and he loved Southern comfort food. Here is one of his favorite and simplest recipes.

Big Billy's Catfish Fajitas

Ingredients

• 2 lbs. catfish, filets

• 1 cup lime juice

• 3 cups mesquite wood chips

• 1 onion, large, chopped

• 1 red pepper, large, chopped

• 2 cloves garlic, minced

• 2 Tbsp. butter

• 1/2 tsp salt

• 1/4 tsp pepper

• 8 tortillas, flour or corn, warmed

• Sour cream, salsa, avocado and lime slices

Directions

Place fish filets in a large zip-top bag. Pour in lime juice, seal, and marinate in the refrigerator for one hour. Soak wood chips in water for one hour. Drain wood chips. Sprinkle wood chips over pre-heated coals in a covered grill. Brush the grill rack lightly with cooking oil and place catfish filets on the rack. Close the grill and cook for about five minutes on either side or until the fish is flaky.

In a large cast iron skillet, cook onion, red pepper, and garlic in the butter until tender. Stir in salt and pepper. Cut filets into chunks, toss into skillet, and mix well. Fill warmed tortillas with catfish mixture and serve with sour cream, salsa, avocado, and lime slices.

###

• Born near Black Bayou in the little Louisiana town of Vivian, Eric Wilder grew up listening to his grandmother’s tales of politics, corruption, and ghosts that haunt the night. He now lives in Oklahoma, where he continues to pen mysteries and short stories with a southern accent. He authored the French Quarter Mystery Series set in New Orleans, the Paranormal Cowboy Series, and the Oyster Bay Mystery Series. Please check it out on his Amazon author page. You might also like checking out his Facebook page.

What the Readers are Saying About Morning Mist of Blood

Here's what some of the readers have said about Morning Mist of Blood:

“A riveting read that blends mystery, suspense, and just the right amount of supernatural occurrences to keep pages turning.”

“Not like I thought it was going to be, it was better.”

“A quick, quirky, interesting read . . . Really enjoyed it.

“A fast-paced, action-filled mystery.”

“A mix of mystery and romance.”

“I just loved this one. what a true and gritty mystery/suspense/thriller/who done it/kinda sexy book! I could not put it down.”

“Great detail and I loved how the story had min stories inside of it.”

“Enjoyed this book very much.”

Eric'sWeb

Marilyn's Chicken-Fried Catfish with Pan Gravy - a weekend recipe

Do you crave southern comfort food? Who doesn’t? Here is a recipe that embodies the spirit of food for the soul. Serve it with mashed potatoes and pan gravy. Heck, I even like pan gravy over my green beans. Enjoy.

Marilyn’s Chicken-Fried Catfish with Pan Gravy

Ingredients

• 4 catfish filets

• 1 cup vegetable shortening

• Salt and pepper to taste

• 1 cup all purpose flour

• 1 cup whole milk

Directions

Combine salt, pepper and flour in a large zip-top plastic bag. Mix well. Pour milk into a large bowl. Dip filets in milk and shake off excess. Enclose in bag and shake to coat. Shake off excess. Set a cast-iron skillet over medium flame and add shortening. Lay each filet in hot fat. Repeat until skillet is full, but not crowded. The shortening should be no deeper than ¼ inch. Heat only until it's hot enough to set the breading on the catfish after it's dropped into the skillet. When the bottom crust starts sizzling, turn filets and set the other side.

Pan Gravy

Ingredients

• 3 cups milk

• Catfish drippings

• 3 Tbsp. flour

• 1 1/2 tsp. salt

• 1 tsp. pepper

Directions

In a heavy, 2-quart saucepan, heat 3 cups milk but don't let it boil. Using the skillet in which you cooked the catfish, pour off excess grease, leaving about 4 or 5 tablespoons in the pan. Over medium flame, heat the drippings and add 3 tablespoons flour, 1 tablespoon at a time. Continue stirring to brown flour. When brown, hot and bubbling, add hot milk. Stir constantly until thick and creamy. Add 1 ½ teaspoons salt and 1 teaspoon pepper.

Eric'sWeb

Amazon Publishes Kindle Version of Hound of Christmas

Please check out my new ebook, Hound of Christmas, on Amazon.

Zweibelkuchen ala Choctaw - a weekend recipe

Central Oklahoma has many citizens of German extraction, the language still spoken in Oklahoma households where German cuisine is still proudly served. Choctaw, Oklahoma, and the Old Germany Restaurant have hosted an Oklahoma version of Oktoberfest every September for the last twenty years.

Here is a Germanic recipe with a slight Okie modification. P.S. – this recipe originated in German wine country and, yes, grapes are now grown and wine being produced right here in central Oklahoma. Although great with wine, I can personally attest to the fact that this dish is also great with a cold Beck’s. Yes, southern comfort food sometimes has European origins.

Ingredients

• 16 strips bacon

• 4 large yellow onions, chopped

• 2 jalapeno peppers, roasted, deseeded, finely chopped

• 2 eggs plus 1 yolk

• ¾ cups sour cream

• Salt and pepper to taste

• Caraway seeds

• 2 -8 inch pastry shells half baked at 400 degrees

Directions

Fry bacon until crisp. Drain, crumble and set aside. Fry onions in oil until soft and yellow. Add beaten eggs, and yolk, chopped jalapeno pepper, sour cream, salt and pepper. Add crumbled bacon. Pour mixture into pie shells and sprinkle with caraway seeds. Bake at 350 degrees for 20 to 30 minutes, or until centers are firm. Enjoy.

Eric'sWeb

Happy Thanksgiving Everyone!

Eric'sWeb

A Day at the Beach

htt While mudlogging for CORE Labs after graduating college with my degree in geology, I sat a well in south Texas that took about six weeks to drill. It was not that the well was that deep or the drilling that slow, but it was quite simply the well from hell.


Everything that could possibly go wrong did go wrong. The sand-shale sequence through which we were drilling was unconsolidated, the drilling fast and the hole soon crooked. Well bores are never truly vertical because the drill bit rotates causing the pipe to corkscrew. A dogleg sometimes occurs that results in the borehole changing direction abruptly. This was the case in our well and it created worlds of problems every time the crews made a bit trip.

My fellow mudloggers and I only worked when the well was actually turning to the right. Two drilling superintendents had already been relieved of duty because of problems on the well. The new superintendent decided to try to fix the drilling problem before he became number three.

When dealing with problems encountered miles below the earth’s surface, it is impossible to estimate the time it might take to correct the problem. Because of this, the company placed Jack, Art and me on stand-by. This was okay with us because the company paid us and we did not have to work for it.

The quick fix to the drilling problem did not occur and by the third day, the three of us were tired of hanging around Weslaco. We decided to take a field trip to South Padre Island for a little fun in the sun. After icing down several six packs of beer, we headed for the beach. By the time we reached sun and sand, we were all “two sheets to the wind,” as they say.

Jack was the senior man but he was only about thirty. What bad habits that Art and I did not already possess, we learned from Jack. Art and I worked on the beer while Jack had a bottle of Jack Daniel’s that he tippled straight from the bottle. Jack was smart enough to let Art drive while he sat in the front seat giving us directions from a tattered Texas road map.

South Padre Island is a barrier bar that parallels the Texas Gulf coast and stretches for miles and miles. We were looking for a beach with lots of gorgeous and scantily clad females but after miles of driving, we continued to see only bare sand. Art finally spotted some people sunning on the beach and frolicking in the surf.

“I don’t see a road,” he said.

“There are no trees or ditches,” Jack said. “Just cut cross country.”

This seemed like a perfectly good idea to both Art and me. It was not. Within fifty feet, we were stuck up to the hubs in sand and thirty minutes of effort beneath hot Texas sun failed to extricate us.

“Leave it here,” Jack said. “I’m hot as hell. Let’s take a swim.”

This also seemed like a good idea to Art and me. Following Jack to the beach, we proceeded to strip down to our boxer shorts and dive into the surf. In the manner of all good Texas oilmen, we were loud, boisterous, brazen and very drunk. Within minutes, the crowded beach cleared leaving only the three of us to frolic in the surf.

We had no towels, no umbrella and no swim trunks. Our cold beer in the trunk was a hundred yards away through ankle deep hot sand. After an hour in the humidity and beneath the south Texas sun, we had all begun sobering up. A good thing as we were able to free the car when we finally returned to it.

Down the road, we found a recreation area with a hotdog stand and many souvenir shops. Even though we had our clothes back on, the crowd reaction was pretty much the same. They all apparently saw us for what we were – “oil field trash.” We ate a few hotdogs, ogled ever girl in sight and then headed back to Weslaco.

I awoke the next morning with a pounding head, queasy stomach and painful sunburn. Worse, we learned the well was drilling again.

I wish I could say that I learned a valuable lesson from this experience. Well maybe I did. I realized that it is a bad idea to leave behind an ice chest loaded with beer even though you intend to go little more than a hundred yards away.

Eric'sWeb

Big Billy's Tipsy Sweet Potatoes - a weekend recipe

Big Billy loved his beer but wasn’t much of a hard liquor drinker. He still liked to use it to liven up certain dishes. “Yams and bourbon was a match made in heaven,” he used to say. With Halloween upon us and Thanksgiving not far behind, here is a perfect holiday recipe. Try it and enjoy a little bit of heaven.

Ingredients

• 8 sweet potatoes, cooked, peeled, and mashed

• ¼ lb butter, softened

• 2 cups brown sugar

• 1 tsp allspice

• 1 tsp nutmeg

• 1 tsp cinnamon

• ½ cup bourbon

• ½ cup flour

• 2 tsps butter

• 1 cup pecans, chopped

Directions

Combine sweet potatoes with softened butter. 1 cup brown sugar, spices and bourbon; mix well. Pour into a buttered 2 quart casserole. Cut the 2 tablespoons butter into flour with a pastry blender until crumbly. Add remaining cup of brown sugar and pecans and blend well. Sprinkle on top of potatoes and bake at 350 degrees for 20 to 25 minutes. Enjoy.

Eric'sWeb

Another Morning Mist of Blood Book Review

Here's another book review for Morning Mist of Blood, my Oklahoma murder mystery.

http://www.featheredquill.com/index.shtml

Fiery Oklahoma Sky

Central Oklahoma finally got a respite from dry weather that has persisted since August. Two days of rain has dampened central Oklahoma, but not my spirits. A glorious sunset highlighted my walk, although I had to risk my neck, standing amid zooming traffic near the center line of 33rd Street to get the most optimum pic. The sky was just as red as the picture shows, but I had to adjust the camera's exposure compensation to make it read true.


Eric'sWeb

Book Review: Morning Mist of Blood

Please check out a review of my new book, Morning Mist of Blood at Bookideas.com.

BookIdeas

Vi's Overnight Vegetable Salad

Dot, my wonderful aunt from Katy, Texas was kind enough to share this recipe with me. It was given to her by her neighbor, Vi Tarpley. Thanks Dot, and thanks Vi. I can hardly wait to try it.

Vi's Overnight Vegetable Salad

Ingredients

• 1 16 oz. can LeSuer Peas, drained

• 1 16 oz. can French-Style green beans, drained

• 1 11 oz. can shoe peg white corn, drained

• 1 medium onion, finely chopped

• 3/4 cup celery, chopped

• 1 small jar pimento

• 3/4 cup sugar

• 1/2 cup vegetable oil

• 1/2 cup white wine vinegar

• 1/2 teaspoon salt

• 1/2 teaspoon pepper

Directions

In a large bowl combine peas, beans, corn, onion, celery and pimento. In a saucepan combine remaining ingredients. Heat and stir until sugar dissolves. Pour over the vegetables. Cover and refrigerate overnight. Yield: 10-12 Servings

Vi’s Hints: You may substitute small cherry tomatoes (cut in half), yellow or orange bell peppers, chopped, canned baby carrots, zucchini, sliced or most any kind of vegetable you like. Salad will keep for several days stored in a covered container in the refrigerator.

More hints: You may use small cans of peas, beans, corn and 1/2 of onion, celery and pimento. You may also substitute other vegetables in same amount, using one-half spices, sugar, vinegar, etc. Follow directions for rest of recipe making about 5 to 6 servings.

Eric'sWeb

Earthquake in Edmond

My business partner Ray called me around 9:30 am today. "Did you feel the earthquake?" he asked.
"Nope, didn't feel a thing," I told him.
"Our office shook like there was no tomorrow. You sure you didn't feel anything?"
"No, but I believe you," I said.
"I was in Los Angeles during a 4.5 earthquake and it wasn't nearly as intense as the one I just experienced."
"I said I believe you," I responded.
I'm a writer, but I'm also a geologist. Oil companies, for years now, have been "dewatering" a deep-seated formation called the Hunton just east of here. Once sporadic earthquakes have grown from five a year to five a month.
"Dewatering simply means the oil companies are extracting large quantities of oil and water, mostly water, from a zone about a mile deep in the earth in central Oklahoma. They sell the oil and inject the water back into another zone called the Arbuckle. this ancient formation is rife with faults and structural movement. The injected water acts as a lubricant, causing movement, and resultant earthquakes. There hasn't been much, if any, property damage - at least as yet, so no one is casting any blame. The cause of the earthquakes is subsidence due to removal, and or injection of saltwater from, or into, zones deep beneath the surface of the earth.

Eric'sWeb

My new book Morning Mist of Blood is finally out, including a paperback original version available across the web. Here is the first chapter that reintroduces Buck McDivit after a five year absense.

Morning Mist of Blood

Chapter 1

Buck McDivit exited the heavy glass doors of the Second Bank of Edmond, trying without success not to feel like someone had just kicked him in the gut. His banker, a man he had known all his life, had just rejected his request for a new truck loan.

“You got no steady job and not much in the way of assets. I can’t risk the bank’s money on this one,” he had told Buck.

Buck had stared at the little man with a voice much deeper than his size indicated and tried to reason with him. “I’ve never had a loan go south. You know as much, Jeb.”

“Things change,” Jeb Stuart Johnson had said, peering over his reading glasses. “The auditors would have my ass in a sling if I made this loan. Unless you put twenty percent down, that is.”

“I don’t have that kind of money.”

“Then maybe you don’t need a new forty thousand dollar pickup. You know what the monthly payments are on a loan that big? Hell, Buck, what’s the matter with the truck you got?”

“Two hundred thousand miles,” he had replied. “Maintenance is eating me up.”

“Then lower your standards because you can’t afford a truck costing forty-two grand.” The little man whisked his hand through his thinning hair before glancing at his watch. “Now I got another appointment coming in right after lunch so I’m leaving a little early. Anything else I can help you with?”

Buck didn’t bother answering because Jeb Johnson had already grabbed his overcoat and headed out of the office. He pulled the collar of his jean jacket up around his neck and followed him through the front door to Broadway, Edmond’s main street.

Buck’s boots were old but always polished and well maintained. He had long legs and his jeans and Western shirt made him seem taller than he really was. Two women passing on the sidewalk turned to give the handsome young cowboy with expressive brown eyes and dark wavy hair a second glance. Still upset about his meeting with Jeb Johnson, he failed to notice.

Edmond, a former train stop had grown into a north suburb of sprawling Oklahoma City. No longer a bedroom community for the wealthy, it was now the home of the third largest university in the state. It was also the third largest city in Oklahoma.

The thriving little metropolis had traffic that didn’t quite rival Dallas but was on its way to doing so. It also had a hundred fifty churches and at least ten Starbucks. Cold gusty wind whistled down the street, chilling the back of his neck, as someone tapped his shoulder.

“Sorry to bother you, Mister but I ain’t ate in two days. Can you spare a dollar?”

The economy, as in other parts of the country, had begun collapsing in Oklahoma. It seemed beggars populated every major cross street in the City but this was the first one Buck had seen in downtown Edmond. The man was scruffy, his clothes dirty and torn, but it was his dog that caught his attention. The man held on to it with a short strand of rope tied around its neck.

The young black and white Border collie wagged its tail and licked Buck’s hand when he reached down to pet it. He fished out his wallet and glanced at his last twenty.

“What’s your dog’s name?” Buck asked.

“Ain’t got no name.”

Buck handed him the twenty. “I don’t have anything smaller so I guess it’s your lucky day.” He pulled the bill back when the man reached for it. “You have to promise me part of this will go to feed your dog.”

The little man snatched the bill from Buck’s hand and stuffed it into his shirt pocket.

“He ain’t my dog. I was gonna tie him to a park bench and be rid of the little pest. If you want him, you better take him cause he ain’t staying with me.”

Buck frowned, thinking for a moment he should take back his twenty. He took the rope instead and watched the ratty little man hurry away, probably to the nearest liquor store.

He squatted and rubbed the little dog’s ears. The dog with no name wagged its tail and licked Buck’s hand.

“Maybe I can put an ad in the paper and find a good home for you.”

Feeling suddenly depressed because of his loan rejection, he wondered if he should move north to Logan County and the less pretentious town of Guthrie. Someone he recognized exited the coffee shop across the street, interrupting his malaise. Waving, he crossed the narrow street, the dog wagging his tail as he followed him.

Unlike sprawling Oklahoma City, no skyscrapers jutted into the clouds in downtown Edmond. Few structures, if any, exceeded more than two stories in height, those mostly squat brick and native rock buildings. The people walking along the sidewalks moved at the slow pace of what was once a small town.

Clayton O’Meara, his ex-employer and the former husband of Virginia, the woman for who he now worked, had apparently not seen him and was heading in the opposite direction. He stopped when Buck called his name.

“Trying to avoid me, Clayton?”

Clayton grinned, showing a set of teeth a little too perfect for someone his age. He stood several inches taller than Buck, probably six foot four, and he sported a full head of silver hair, complete with expensive salon highlights.

“Hey, Buck. Nice leash you got. What are you doing up so early?”

“I was about to ask you the same thing?” he said, ignoring Clayton’s comment about the dog’s makeshift leash.

Clayton answered Buck’s question with little more than a wry grin and the word, “Business. Don’t you ever feed that dog?”

“He’s not really my dog.”

“From the way he’s wagging his tail, I’d say he thinks he is.”

A wealthy oilman, Clayton O’Meara owned a large cattle spread in southern Logan County. He rarely left the showplace ranch and Buck couldn’t recall ever seeing him in downtown Edmond. Despite the chilling temperature, the older man wore no hat, probably so as not to distract from his full head of hair. Only an unzipped orange goose down parka emblazoned with the letters OSU covered his designer sports shirt.

Clayton was at least thirty years older than Buck but the sparkle in his hazy eyes made him seem little more than a teenager. Glancing at his Rolex Commander, as if the expensive watch somehow held the answer to some unasked question, he pointed to his car down the street.

“I’m sort of in a hurry.”

Buck recognized a brush-off when confronted with one and said, “Didn’t mean to hold you up.”

Clayton grinned and slapped Buck’s shoulder. “Sorry to rush, but I got an appointment and I gotta get. We can catch up on things later.”

Instead of hurrying away, he turned toward the door of the coffee shop he had just exited. Reaching for the handle as if he had forgotten something inside, he thought better of it. Pivoting on the heels of his polished snakeskin boots, he headed down the street to his awaiting vehicle. Buck watched as Clayton’s chauffeur opened the back door of a big white Mercedes for him. With tires squealing, the car hurried away, around the corner.

Buck glanced at the door of Café Oklahoma, the coffee shop a fixture in downtown Edmond for almost as long as he could remember. He knew Clayton well enough to know he wasn’t a coffee drinker. Curious, he opened the door and glanced inside.

Seeing a familiar face alone at a table, he completely forgot about Clayton as memories of a recent romance, ended too soon for his liking flooded his psyche. It was his former girlfriend, Kay Karson. Everyone called her KK. She turned around, as if expecting someone else. Seeing him, she folded her arms, frowned and glanced away.

“No greeting for an old friend?” Buck asked as he approached her table.

KK crossed her shapely legs, black lace hose and ankle-length boots the only concessions to the outside chill, considering the short leather skirt she wore.

“You’re really full of yourself, aren’t you?”

Before Buck could answer, an employee said, “Sir, you can’t bring your dog in here.”

“I’ll only be a minute,” he said.

Buck and KK had been an item for almost a year. She liked line dancing, prancing horses and ice-cold Coors beer. Her slender legs looked great in tight blue jeans and cowboy boots. Honey blonde hair draped her shoulders, framing her slightly less than perfect but unforgettable face. She was, in fact, a beauty queen, having amassed three titles before the tender age of eighteen. Buck soon learned she thoroughly realized the effect she had on men. Now, at twenty-nine, she could focus her power on the opposite sex like an ICBM, with the same explosive result. Buck had found his dream woman. At least he’d thought.

KK’s father was a medical doctor in Tulsa, her mother a college professor at Tulsa University. She had never wanted for anything. Looking at her now, Buck could see she had acquired a few very expensive trinkets he doubted even her doting dad could afford. A diamond pendant graced her slender neck. The large diamond in an expensive setting had good color and was no fake. It was a companion piece to the diamond ring on her finger sporting an even larger and more ostentatious stone. Mink lined her gloves and the expensive jacket draped across the back of the booth.

“Just saying hi to an old friend,” he countered.

KK tipped over a half-empty coffee cup with her elbow. Dabbing at the spot with a napkin, she continued frowning.

“You call yourself an investigator. You don’t have a clue. I imagine you must have thought all you had to do was smile at me and I would jump back into your bed like a horny teenager. Well, we’re not in college, and you are not the star quarterback and campus heartthrob anymore. You don’t even have a real job. You may have a nice ass but it doesn’t compliment your lousy future.”

KK didn’t wait for his reply, brushing past him and appearing not to hear when he said, “Guess tamales and dancing Saturday night are out of the question.”

As she disappeared out the door without looking back, he wondered what he could have done to provoke such a display of anger. With a shrug to the employee still looking at him and the dog, he followed her outside, watching as she entered a brand new white Mercedes sports car, pulled out of her parking place and gunned away down the street.

“No problem,” he called out at the disappearing vehicle. “I can’t afford a date Saturday night anyway.”

Two rejections and a brush-off before noon, he thought as he considered where she had acquired the Mercedes and her expensive mink jacket. Their relationship had not ended badly. It had simply flickered out and died.

Buck had attended college for a time at OSU. He had dropped out to sign on with the OCPD. One of his friends there had left to become an oil and gas lease broker during one of the many oil booms, and he soon followed him. His lucrative job ended during an unexpected, at least to him, reduction in oil prices. Since then, he had supported himself in many different jobs such as club bouncer, skip tracer, process server, and private detective. His opportunities for gainful employment had recently narrowed and he found himself using his meager savings to pay his bills. It didn’t help that his aging Dodge pickup needed repair almost weekly.

“Come on, Buddy. Let’s get you something to eat.”

When Buck reached his truck and unlocked the door, his cheeks burned hot. He’d never had an ego problem, even though gorgeous women often became speechless when meeting him. It didn’t matter because now he needed a drink, preferably something with whiskey in it. Shaking his head, he remembered he couldn’t afford one.

It was past lunchtime, his stomach growling. After stopping at a convenience store, he began searching for change in the truck’s console.

“You wait here. I’ll be right back.”

He returned a few minutes later with a hot dog. Giving the meat to the young dog, he ate the bun. The little border collie gobbled down the wiener then curled up and went to sleep in the passenger seat.

Buck had not reached the horse ranch where he lived and worked part time when he received a call from the Logan County death investigator. One of his many jobs included assisting the investigator whenever a suspicious death occurred. He did not care for the often-gory work. It didn’t matter now. Because of his current financial situation, he could ill afford to turn down a job, no matter how distasteful.

A cowboy had discovered a body at a nearby ranch. Clayton O’Meara’s ranch. Buck pondered the coincidence as he turned his truck around and headed north, along with his sleepy passenger.

Eric'sWeb   Gondwana

Natchitoches Meat Pie - a weekend recipe

Natchitoches is the oldest continuous settlement in Louisiana, and that includes New Orleans. Located on the Cane River, this scenic and interesting town was the location for the movie Steel Magnolias. With a diverse cultural history, that includes French, Spanish, English, African and American Indian heritage, this sleepy community is like no other. Here is the original recipe for the world famous Natchitoches meat pie. Don’t change it or it will no longer be a Natchitoches Meat Pie.


Ingredients: Meat Filling

• ½ lb. ground chuck

• 1 ½ lb. ground pork (not sausage)

• 2 tsp. flour

• 1 tsp. shortening

• 2 onions, large

• 6 scallions, small

• 3 tbsp. parsley (chopped, very fine)

• salt and pepper, to taste

• 1 dash cayenne pepper

Ingredients: Pie Crust

• 4 cups flour

• 2 eggs, large

• ½ cup melted shortening, preferably lard

• 1 tsp. salt

• 2 tbsp. baking soda

• small amount of milk

Directions

Make the meat filling first. Meat should be ground twice and then run through a sieve. The idea is for the meat to be as smooth and uniform as possible. Brown the meat in a heavy iron skillet, pouring off any fat that accumulates.

Make a roux of the flour, shortening, onions, parsley, salt, pepper and cayenne pepper. Combine meat and roux thoroughly. Set aside for cooling.

Begin the pastry and DO NOT use cooking oil instead of lard. Sift flour. Add baking powder, lard, eggs and enough milk to make a stiff dough. Roll until very thin. Cut circles about the size of a coffee cup saucer from the dough. Fill with meat mixture and fold over. Moisten with water around edges and crimp with a fork. Poke a couple of holes in each pie (so they don’t explode!) and then deep fry until golden brown. You are in for a treat, so enjoy.

Eric'sWeb

Optical Illusion

Hey, check out this optical illusion. Pretty neat!

http://videogames.yahoo.com/events/brain-teasers/optical-illusion-13/1408012

Eric'sWeb

Here are three pics of Shane's (Marilyn's son) new dog Oscar.

Oscar



Marilyn and the Captain



Bad Boy

Buck is Back!

I published my first novel, Ghost of a Chance in 2005. The protagonist, Buck McDivit, is an Oklahoma cowboy raised in foster homes. Buck inherits an island and boat marina on mysterious Caddo Lake in east Texas from an unknown aunt. Once in Texas, he confronts racism, lost gold and the ghost of a girl that haunts the lake.

Five years later, Buck reemerges in Oklahoma when a wealthy rancher hires him to investigate murder, oil and cattle theft, and a group of mysterious women that live on a commune near the center of his large ranch. Buck soon learns the commune is populated by more than just a bunch of female crazies. They are doctors, scientists, architects and artists that have pooled their resources and have created a virtual Eden smack in the middle of central Logan County.

The women practice conservation, burning no fossil fuels. Their domal houses are partially buried, connected to shops, businesses and exotic restaurants by an elaborate system of tunnels. They also practice other things; they are members of the Southern Death Cult, an ancient Pre-Colombian religion. Their spiritual leader is Esme, a beautiful woman with a mysterious past, and a rattlesnake tattoo on her shoulder.

If you missed Buck, he is finally back. The paperback original will be out shortly but the Kindle Edition is already available on Amazon. Please check it out. I think you will like it.

Eric'sWeb

Weekend Pics

Princess, Patch and Scooter



Looking for the Sun




Toadstool Kingdom



Brightest Autumnal Equinox in More Than a Decade

http://www.mnn.com/food/organic-farming/stories/world-celebrates-autumnal-equinox-2010-brightest-in-over-a-decade

Eric'sWeb

Before (During) After: Louisiana Photographers' Visual Reactions to Hurricane Katrina, Edited by Elizabeth Kleinveld-a book review

This is a great book. Check it out.

http://www.seattlepi.com/books/426880_144049-blogcritics.org.html?source=rss

Eric'sWeb

Rain and Remembrance

Rain, blown up from the Gulf of Mexico by Tropical Storm Hermine continues as I keyboard this posting. Happily, it's ending the driest August in central Oklahoma I can remember. Being from Louisiana, rain on the roof always makes me melancholy and causes me to reflect on events from the past. Here are a few pics from a 2001 4th of July party.

Lee, Lanny and Betsy

Angela, Kathy and Diana

Helen and Kate

Eric'sWeb

Some Old B&W Family Pics

Cousin Angela & Brother Jack

Aunt Carmol

Eric's Dad Jack

Unknown girl, Cousin Carolyn Sue, Brother Jack, Cousin Angela

Big Billy's Mexican Stew - a weekend recipe

Big Billy liked to cook and he also liked to eat, apparent by his weight of three-hundred pounds. A connoisseur of many cuisines, his favorite was Mexican, and not necessarily the Tex-Mex variety served almost everywhere in the southwest United States.


Here is a recipe for a very hearty beef stew derived from the highlands of southern Mexico and brought to the States by immigrants.

Ingredients

• 1 ½ lb. beef, cubed

• ¼ c. all-purpose flour

• 1 ½ teaspoon garlic powder

• 2 tablespoons vegetable oil

• ¼ c. soy sauce, naturally brewed

• 3 carrots, medium, 1” pieces

• 2 tomatoes, medium, chopped coarsely

• 2 onions, medium, chunked

• 1 can whole kernel corn (8 oz.) drained

• 1 ½ teaspoon oregano, crushed

• ½ teaspoon cumin, ground

Directions

Coat beef cubes with mixture of flour and garlic powder, reserving excess. With hot oil, .brown beef in large pan. Stir in soy sauce and 1 ¼ c. water. Cover and bring to a boil. Reduce heat and simmer 1 ½ hours, stirring occasionally.

Add carrots; simmer covered for 15 minutes. Stir in tomatoes, onions and pepper; simmer 25 minutes, or until vegetables are tender. Stir in corn, oregano and cumin; simmer 5 minutes. Combine reserved flour mixture with ¾ c. water. Stir into meat mixture, bring to boil and cook until slightly thickened. Enjoy.

Eric'sWeb

Murder, Cattle Rustling and Pagan Revelry in Central Oklahoma

My first novel, Ghost of a Chance was published in 2005 and introduced cowboy private investigator Buck McDivit. Buck is finally back in his first full-length novel in five years.This modern-day western takes place in central Oklahoma when a wealthy rancher hires him to investigate a murder, cattle and oil theft and a pagan compound populated only by women. He must also contend with a shape-shifting black panther, a giant wolf dog and a beautiful woman with a rattlesnake tattoo.


Morning Mist of Blood is presently available only as an ebook. Yes, I prefer the heft of a hardback you can take to bed with you and read late into the night by lamp light. Still, the ebook generation is here and now, Amazon reporting that it made more money selling ebooks last quarter than it did paper versions. Morning Mist of Blood is available for the Kindle, Nook, Sony, Apple and most other ebook readers, including PDF which you can read on your computer. Best of all, you can download half the book for free to see if you like it before you ever spend a penny.

Morning Mist of Blood debuted today at Smashwords.com but will soon be available at Amazon, Barnes & Noble, KoboBooks, Diesel Ebooks, Sony and Apple. If you get a chance, please check it out at the Morning Mist of Blood page on Smashwords. Hey, and thanks for reading my blog.

Eric'sWeb

Big Easy Book Trailer

Big Billy's South Padre Meat Loaf - a weekend recipe

Although born in Arkansas, Big Billy lived in Texas most of his life. The State is so big, it can easily be divided into many regions, any one of which is bigger than most other states. The people populating these regions have their own ethnicity, cuisine and culture. Big Billy was an expert on each of these regions and adept at cooking their many dishes.


South Padre Island is an area all to itself, unlike any other part of Texas—or the world for that matter. The inhabitants of South Padre Island come from all over, its culture and cuisine just as varied. Here is a dish Big Billy discovered, and made his own, while on a trip to the island.

Big Billy’s South Padre Meat Loaf

Ingredients

• 2 lbs. beef, chopped
• 1/4 lb. salt pork, chopped
• 1 onion, chopped
• 1 green pepper, finely chopped
• 1 tsp. salt
• 1/4 tsp. pepper
• Dash paprika
• Pimento, strips

Directions

Mix all ingredients except pimento strips and then sprinkle with paprika. Grease a bread pan and put in half the mixture. Place strips of pimento over the top. Add the rest of the meat and bake in moderate oven for 45 minutes. Serve with hot boiled rice and tomato sauce.

Connecticut AG Mulls Apple and Amazon Ebook Dealings

http://www.nytimes.com/2010/08/03/technology/03ebook.html?_r=1&partner=rss&emc=rss

Eric'sWeb

Whirlwind to Louisiana

Marilyn and I drove to Vivian last weekend for my Dad’s funeral. The gravesite ceremony was wonderful. Two young soldiers came up from Fort Polk. One of them blew Taps on his bugle. They performed the flag ceremony, presenting me with the flag.


I was surprised by the number of people that attended, considering my Dad’s age and the short notice. My two cousins, Skip from Austin and Sonny from Georgia were there, along with their wives, my Aunt Marguerite, Brother Jack, his wife and four kids.

Leaving town, Marilyn and I stopped at the drive-in bar on the Louisiana/Texas border. Marilyn took pictures because it is hard to believe there are still places in this country where you can buy a bourbon and swamp water from the window of your car.

My Dad is finally home in Vivian, at rest beside my Mother. As Marilyn and I plopped down on our couch soon after making it to Edmond, I knew how he must feel.

Eric'sWeb

My Dad Died Yesterday - Jack Pittenger's Obit

My Dad died yesterday after a long battle with Alzheimer's. We are burying him Monday in Vivian. Below is his obit. Like all obits, it is no more than a book blurb for a novel that took a lifetime to write.

Jack Howard Pittenger, a true American hero, passed from this earth on July 21 at the Norman Regional Veteran's Center in Norman, Oklahoma, three days shy of his ninety-first birthday. Jack was born in Trees City, Louisiana on July 24, 1919. He served in the U.S. Army from 1941 through 1945 where he took part in the campaigns of Normandy, Dinard, Brest, the Crozon Peninsula, and Luxembourg. In Germany, he saw action at Haertgen, from the Roer to the Rhine, and in the Ruhr Pocket, and was in the Elbe River area on V-E Day. He earned the Combat Infantryman's Badge, the Good Conduct Medal, and the European Theatre of Operations Ribbon with four battle stars.


He married Mavis Lela Pittman in 1943. They settled in Vivian and were married sixty-three years at the time of Mavis' death in 2006. Jack was a talented builder and built many homes in Vivian before becoming a pipefitter. He was a lifetime member of the Plumber's and Pipefitter's Union and retired in 1982.

Jack is preceded in death by wife Mavis, Mother Dale O'Rear Rood, step-father Oscar Rood and sister Carmol. He had two sons Jack Jr. and Gary (Eric), and numerous grandchildren and great-grandchildren.

Eric'sWeb

Struck by Lightning

Big Billy had an Oklahoma oil company during the late 70s, early 80s oil boom. Like many others during that era, his went belly up when the economy flopped and oil prices collapsed. He moved to Texas and started a restaurant, visiting me years later in Oklahoma City after I ran into him in a dark Dallas bar. I had some leases in Noble County along with a geologic idea. I showed it to him and he bought it from me, intent on drilling a well.

The prospect was a reentry of a previously drilled well that had “shows” that were never tested. Big Billy had money but to say that he was cheap would be an understatement. Even though he could easily have afforded a Jaguar, he drove an old Chevy until the wheels practically fell off. Sometimes, when you are drilling, it doesn’t pay to go with the cheapest bid.

Big Billy somehow dug up an old drilling contractor with a cut-rate price and very old rig to drill our well. The wash-down that should have taken three days was only 250 feet deep after a week.

I told him what I thought. “The bit is out of the old hole. You’re drilling a new hole and with this piece of junk you are drilling with, it’ll take forever.”

Big Billy was stubborn but he wasn’t stupid. Taking my advice, he released the dilapidated old drilling rig while we scratched our heads about what to do. We soon decided to perforate a shallow zone already cased behind surface casing. Big Billy’s good luck hadn’t gone far away and we completed the zone for lots of natural gas.

The well turned out to be a prolific producer and spurred the drilling of another ten shallow wells offsetting it. There were numerous, potentially productive sands in the area and I finally talked him into drilling a well to test this possibility. We called it the Big Boy.

We drilled the Big Boy to a depth of about three-thousand feet. Ed G., a friend of mine since Cities Service days, and also a cracker jack well-site geologist, watched the well as it was drilling. Before reaching total depth, we had recorded “shows” of natural gas in two zones. Ed and I both recommended that Big Billy set pipe.

“Do either of these zones produce in offset wells?” he asked us.

I shook my head but explained, “They calculate productive on the electric logs and we had positive shows while drilling through them.”

Big Billy wasn’t convinced.

“I can’t let my investors set pipe on a wildcat zone.”

Ed was irate. “With that kind of logic, there would have never been a productive well ever drilled. Someone has to be the first.”

Argue as we might, Big Billy decided to plug the well. He did so with a temporary plug, thinking someone might come along later in the area and find production in the two zones. He didn’t have to worry about lease expiration because shallow production held them. Everything would have been hunky-dory, except for Old Mother Nature.

A year or so later, Big Billy got a late-night call from the Corporation Commission, Oklahoma’s oil and gas regulatory agency. The temporary plug he had set on the Big Boy was leaking natural gas to the surface. During a spring thunderstorm, lightning had struck the surface plug and set it on fire.

“Plug it or produce it,” the Commission ordered.

Big Billy grumbled, but complied with the Commission’s order by reentering the well and completing in the same shallow zone as all of his offsets, still overlooking the two untested deeper zones.

Natural gas prices languished for several years, during which time Big Billy bought out all of his partners. He called and told me that he intended to sell the little natural gas field, buy a sailboat and retire to Washington with Kathy, his significant other.

“You’re too young to retire,” I said.

Unable to convince him, Ed and I found a buyer for the property.

Because of depressed natural gas prices, Big Billy sold the wells for $100,000. Ed, still enamored with the prospect, bought ten percent of the producing property for ten grand. He shortly had a pleasant surprise.

The price of natural gas, like all commodities, is controlled by supply and demand. When the supply is high, the price is low. When it stays low for a lengthy period, gas operators stop drilling. Since all wells decline, the supply always, sooner or later, drops below the demand. If no new wells are drilled to take their place, a shortage occurs. This is what finally happened the month after Big Billy sold his gas properties, bought his sailboat and moved to Washington. After realizing the imbalance between the supply of available natural gas and the demand for it, marketers began bidding in earnest. The price suddenly soared, returning Ed’s investment in a single month.

Big Billy either didn’t care or else decided not to let it bother him. He and Kathy lived on their boat, docked near Seattle, for several years until they both became bored with retirement. The oil and natural gas boom was still going strong so they sold the boat and moved back to Texas. His luck was still good and he and Kathy managed to amass yet another fortune during the ensuing Texas land boom.

Stubborn to the end, he never acknowledged being wrong about not testing the two deeper zones in Noble County.

Eric'sWeb

A Morning Mist of Blood - coming soon

COMING SOON!


The long-awaited sequel to Ghost of a Chance. Cowboy gumshoe Buck McDivit returns to investigate cattle theft, paganism, murder and a shape-shifting black panther.

DON'T MISS IT!

Eric'sWeb

Big Billy's Crawfish Quesadillas

Big Billy was a Texan, transplanted from Arkansas by way of Oklahoma. He had a big booming voice that somehow overwhelmed even his six foot four, four hundred pound body. Big Billy wasn’t ashamed of his weight and he had a razor tongue that could lacerate most mere mortals in seconds, if they ever dared not treat him like the super intelligent person that he was. Kathy was Big Billy’s better half. More intelligent than even Big Billy, she was the keel that kept his boat positioned on the straight-and-narrow.

Once, at a Superbowl party in Oklahoma City, Kathy fell in love with an abandoned blond cocker spaniel with the regal name of Stacy’s Blueberry English Muffin. One of the young dog’s elderly owner’s had recently died, the other no longer capable of caring for the pedigreed cocker.

Muffin was on her way to the pound but Kathy begged Big Billy to let her adopt the friendly dog. He agreed, but only after obtaining her promise to “do anything he asked of her” for a month. Hmm! I have no clue what wild and depraved acts Kathy had to ultimately perform, but Muffin turned out to be one of the world’s best dogs, a real princess that even Big Billy eventually bowed down to

Muffin and Big Billy are both gone, but Kathy now lives in Austin along with her new husband Ross and two kitties Lefty and Blacky (named after some crazy country-western song, I think) that she and Big Billy had adopted. Since Kathy is allergic to cats, she built them their own air-conditioned palace behind her house on Lake Travis. Ah, the lives of the very rich!

Anyway, here is one of the many wonderful dishes Big Billy and Kathy used to cook up. It’s a Louisiana/Texas specialty I think you will like.

Big Billy’s Crawfish Quesadillas


Ingredients

• 8 ten-inch flour tortillas
• 1 lb. peeled crawfish tails, lightly rinsed and drained
• 1 medium onion, chopped
• 1 Tbsp. butter
• 1/2 cup green onions, chopped
• 1 cup Monterrey Jack cheese

Directions

Butter a non-stick skillet and sauté onion on medium heat until tender. Add green onions and crawfish and sauté about 10 minutes. Spritz a large skillet with cooking spray and place on medium heat. Place tortilla in skillet and spread with 1/2 cup crawfish and cheese, and top with another tortilla. Cook 1 minute on each side and then cut into 8 wedges. Serve quesadillas as an appetizer along with Texas hot sauce and sour cream.

####

Eric Wilder is the author of two mystery series that feature private investigators adept in the paranormal Amazon, Barnes & Noble, and iBook author pages. Please check out more of Eric's writing on his Website.

Summer of Love

We experienced the “Summer of Love” in 1969, along with Woodstock and the first man on the moon. There was also Vietnam. I had just graduated from college and planned to marry in August. Before the marriage occurred, I sat my first oil well.

It was early July and I waited in Houston, Texas for my first assignment as a mudlogger with a company called Core Lab. My new mentor was a degreed geologist named Ed M. and we were soon on our way to Mississippi. The 60s in Mississippi were still racially charged and we had to peel off the Core Lab sticker from our company car before driving into the state.

Many in Mississippi thought of CORE as the Congress of Racial Equality, not an oil and gas service company. Being from Louisiana, I was somewhat used to racism, but not even close to what I encountered in Mississippi.

My first well was a 17,500’ wildcat, just outside of Laurel, Mississippi. Ed and I found a room at a local boarding house. Ed liked boarding houses – he had married the owner of the last boarding house where he had stayed in Monroe, Louisiana. I liked them too because I did not have a lot of extra money for the local Hilton.

The drilling rig was big and noisy, but I was not destined to see the well through its total depth. Instead, I drove to Weslaco, Texas to finish logging a well drilling there. I never finished that well either because Core Lab sent me to log yet another deep wildcat, this one near Talco in east Texas.

While young hippies were smoking dope, cavorting around with no clothes, and listening to rock music, I spent the “Summer of Love” on an assortment of noisy drilling rigs from Mississippi to Texas. My boss begged me to sit a wildcat for him in Nicaragua and put off my marriage until later. I thought about it, and the extra money he offered, but my bride-to-be would have none of it.

Five months later, I was married, drafted into the Army and training for a traumatic trip to Southeast Asia as a hired gun for Richard Nixon. Yes, I missed the wild and decadent parts of the “Summer of Love” but I tried making up for it during the “Disco 70s.” Maybe it is a good thing because I don’t think I could have survived both.


Eric'sWeb
 
 

Lust, Deception and Murder - a new novel by author Eric Wilder

My new book is almost ready for publication. After going through many gyrations, I finally decided to call it A Morning Mist of Blood. Buck McDivit, the hero of my mystery Ghost of a Chance returns. This time, the setting is central Oklahoma, home of the cowboy detective. A cattle theft near a large, present-day Oklahoma ranch sets the story into action and soon propels Buck into a quagmire of lust, deception and murder. Please consider giving it a read when it is available. Meantime, check out Lost on Route 66, the book I edited.

Eric'sWeb

Big Billy's Potato Puffs - a weekend recipe

Big Billy had lots of success as an oilman and restaurant owner but never forgot his rural Arkansas roots. He lived by the mantra “waste not, want not” and the dishes he prepared often reflected this philosophy. Big Billy loved southern cooking, and that included potatoes. Instead of throwing away left-over potatoes, he would often turn them into this tasty dish.

Big Billy’s Potato Puffs

Ingredients

• 2 cups cold potatoes, mashed
• 2 eggs
• 1 Tbsp. cream
• 1 Tbsp. butter
• Salt and pepper to taste

Preparation

Mash potatoes well and put them in a frying pan with butter. Add the yolks of two well-beaten eggs, stir and add the cream. Continue stirring and cook until the mixture is very hot. Remove from fire and add the whites of the eggs that have been beaten into a thick froth. Fill a buttered baking dish with the mixture and bake in the oven until the crust turns golden brown. Enjoy.

Eric'sWeb

Eric Wilder Goes Digital

Hoping to find new audiences for my writing, I have published many of my Wyatt Thomas short stories as ebooks and they are available at Smashwords.com. Please check out my homepage there and tell me what you think.

Eric'sWeb

Big Billy's Oyster Balls - a weekend recipe

Big Billy was a Dallas restauranteur and oil man, but he loved Cajun food and knew how to prepare it. Big Billy liked people and he liked parties. When he hosted one of his famous parties, he often prepared this appetizer. It’s one of my favorites and I think you will like it too.


Big Billy’s Oyster Balls

Ingredients

• 2 pints oysters, chopped

• 2 pints sausage, chopped

• 1 egg

• 2 cups bread crumbs, grated

• Cajun hot sauce, to taste

Preparation

Combine oysters and sausage. Season liberally with Cajun hot sauce. Add egg. Shape into small balls. Coat with bread crumbs. Fry in hot oil until golden brown. Serve hot.

Eric'sWeb

Lily's Oyster Stew - a weekend recipe

Oyster stew is a Louisiana staple, but is prepared and eaten everywhere the succulent sea creature is found. Like gumbo, there are many variations, some heartier than others. Here is one of Lily’s versions. This recipe is included in Lily's Little Cajun Cookbook, available in ebook format at Smashwords.com.


Lily’s Oyster Stew

Ingredients

1 stick butter

1 tablespoon minced garlic

1 medium onion, finely chopped

1 medium carrot, finely diced

2 tablespoons Cajun seasoning, plus more to taste

2 pints oysters (with liquor), drained and liquor reserved

1 quart seafood stock

1 10-ounce can of tomatoes, pureed

1 quart half-and-half

¼ cup white wine or brandy

Garlic croutons

Directions

In a large 2-gallon stockpot, melt butter over medium-high heat. Add garlic, onion and carrot and cook, stirring constantly, until onions are translucent. Add 2 tablespoons Cajun seasoning and stir to combine. Add oyster liquor, seafood stock and tomatoes and bring to a simmer. Cook 10 minutes. Add half-and-half and bring back to a simmer. Add oysters and cook until their edges begin to curl. Add wine or brandy and adjust seasoning to taste. Serve immediately in hot soup bowls garnished with croutons, green onions, parsley and paprika.

Eric'sWeb