Bena Mae’s Kitchen: Excerpts

“Bena Mae, I saw you throw that rock,” a neighbor called from her porch. “Now you march right home and tell your mother or I’ll tell her myself!”
I dropped my head and tucked my tail and headed for home before word got to Mama that I had been fighting. Word got around fast in our neighborhood. We kids had at least a dozen surrogate mothers whose prying eyes missed nothing. It was not so secret a pact that they had made up among themselves. They were constantly on the alert for any offense the neighborhood kids committed that might need disciplinary action.
Let them catch us smoking corn silks down in the cornfield. It got reported before the smoke reached the top of the cornstalks. Stealing apples off a neighbor’s tree? No need to lie out of it. Swiping a bottle of pop from the back of the pop truck while the driver was in the store? Capital punishment was waiting for us when we got home. We couldn’t get away with anything. 
Our mothers were never offended when a neighbor called and reported our transgressions. It was their version of Neighborhood Watch. They couldn’t be everywhere, so they depended on one another. Outwitting them was a challenge, sharpened our wits. It was a game of US against THEM. Sometimes we actually won.
But it gave us boundaries. Stepping over the line had its consequences and we knew it. And my generation can say that in our case, it really did take a village.
I’ve often said that a small town is like a big family. And it’s true for the most part. When tragedy strikes, everyone is affected. Let there be illness in a family and everyone pitches in. When there is a happy event, it is shared by all and sundry.
I cite as an example the time when my husband was stationed in France during WWII. The fighting had been relentless and letters from our boys were often slow to get here. During that time we were in a constant state of worry about the welfare of our soldiers overseas. Having said that, I am reminded of a story a friend told that is Mayberry-esque in quality.
My husband, whom I had yet to meet, had somehow got hold of his family and told them he would call them at an approximate date and for them to be at home when he called. On the expected night, neighbors and other people in town who had gotten the word, met at his parent’s home, hoping for a chance to talk to him. They were anxious to hear his voice, to hear for themselves that he was alright.
It was a true example of small town caring.

My daughter-in-law fixed this on St. Paddy’s Day one year and had a bunch of us in to dinner.  She fixed it in a clay pot and it was ummm good.

Corned-Beef Dinner, Irish Style

3-4 lbs corned beef brisket
2 onions, sliced
2 garlic cloves, minced
2 bay leaves
6 whole cloves
6 medium potatoes, pared
5 small carrots, pared
1 medium head of cabbage, cut in 6 wedges

Preparation :
Place corned beef in Dutch oven, and barely cover with hot water; add onion, garlic, cloves, and bay leaves. Cover and simmer (do not let boil) 1 hour per pound of meat, or till fork tender. Remove meat from liquid; add potatoes and carrots. Cover; bring to boiling and cook 10 minutes.
Then add cabbage wedges; continue cooking 20 minutes longer or till vegetables are done.
Spice Glaze:
If you like, glaze the corned beef while vegetables cook. Spread fat side of meat lightly with prepared mustard. Then sprinkle with mixture of 1/4 cup brown sugar and 1/4 teaspoon ground cloves. Place in shallow pan. Bake in moderate oven 350 degrees 15 to 20 minutes or till nicely glazed.