We are a commune of inquiring, skeptical, politically centrist, capitalist, anglophile, traditionalist New England Yankee humans, humanoids, and animals with many interests beyond and above politics. Each of us has had a high-school education (or GED), but all had ADD so didn't pay attention very well, especially the dogs. Each one of us does "try my best to be just like I am," and none of us enjoys working for others, including for Maggie, from whom we receive neither a nickel nor a dime. Freedom from nags, cranks, government, do-gooders, control-freaks and idiots is all that we ask for.
I notice that our Editor is getting into wild animal recipes again. We must not forget this one (definitely use the bear grease if you have any left over.)
French Fried Skunk 2 Skunks, skinned and cleaned 1 tb Salt Water to cover 2 c Bear fat or lard 2 Egg yolks, beaten 3 c Milk or cream 1 1/2 c Flour 1/2 ts Salt 2 tb Baking powder
Clean and wash the skunks, making sure that the scent glands are removed. Cut up into small serving pieces. Put a soup kettle on the stove and add the meat. Cover with cold water and bring to a boil over high heat. Lower the heat and boil until the meat is tender, about 40 minues. Remove all the scum that rises to the surface. Make a batter by mixing together the egg yolks, milk, flour, salt and baking powder. Mix real good until the batter is about like cake batter. Heat the bear fat or lard in a deep fryer to about 360 degrees. Dip the pieces of skunk in the batter and then fry them in the deep fryer until golden brown. Drain well and serve.
Forty-seven year-old Charles grew up in the Ozarks. Summertime, he and his buds would wander, often with their .22 rifle. On a whim or a bet, somebody shot a skunk. Having been raised waste not want not, and with some Baptist remorse tossed in, they decided to take the trophy to the Smith's, the oldest couple around, to see if they wanted it. Walking up the road, approaching the front porch, Mrs. Smith stepped out of the door, watching the boys. Offering the prize to the Mrs., she accepted, saying "Um, Um, Um, there ain't nothing better than taters fried in skunk fat".
I always enjoy hearing Charles tell this story.