Czech-Tex Easter

At Easter time, Martina hangs the Czech Easter eggs, known as kraslice, in the front hallway of our house. These beautifully hand-decorated Easter eggs are a Czech tradition, and the ones we have were sent by Martina's mother several years ago. Considering how fragile these decorated egg shells are, the fact that every one of them arrived from Europe intact could be classified as a postal miracle. I would like to extend a warm thanks to Ceska Posta and the United States Post Office for the gentle handling of the kraslice package.

In the introduction to Waylon County: Texas Stories, I discuss "the ways an immigrant community changes to address the realities of a new land." When I was first drafting the introduction, there were a couple of sentences about immigrant communities and how food ways change due contact with other cultures and the availability of various ingredients. Although I liked the sentences and the idea, they did not make the final draft. 

Yesterday Martina reminded me of these deleted sentences when she made us deviled eggs. Although deviled eggs are of European origin, neither of us ever saw them anywhere in the Czech Republic, and the only deviled eggs either of us ever recall eating were here in Texas. To make the eggs, Martina looked online, found a recipe, and quickly adapted it to the ingredients currently available in our kitchen. And, for the record, she made the best deviled eggs I believe I have ever eaten. In case you are interested, here are the ingredients Martina used for the "deviled" part of the deviled eggs. 

hard boiled egg yolks

Dijon mustard (though I think Dusseldorfer would also be great)

mayonnaise

hot chow chow (drained)

If you would like to know more about "kraslice," here is a great article I found online.

http://www.tresbohemes.com/2016/03/czech-easter-egg-designs/ 

Please Pass the Biscuits, Pappy

My grandfather, who lived on the North Side of Fort Worth near the Stockyards for the early part of his childhood, remembers being handed a biscuit by Pappy O'Daniel during one of his political campaigns. In his brief childhood recollection, my grandfather tells of O'Daniel coming down Clinton Street on what he describes as a chuckwagon and O'Daniel stepping down to hand him a biscuit.

In the following years, O'Daniel went on to become the governor of Texas and even a US senator, but perhaps his most lasting legacy is his contribution to music. O'Daniel, who at one time served as the general sales manager at Burrus Mill, was integral in the early success of the Light Crust Doughboys, which gave wide exposure to both Bob Wills and Milton Brown. After leaving Burrus Mill, O'Daniel started his own company, Hillbilly Flour, and the band he formed, called W. Lee O'Daniel and his Hillbilly Boys, helped him win the governorship.     

Here is the song containing Pappy O'Daniel's famous slogan, "Please Pass the Biscuits, Pappy."

Where Does the Sidewalk End? At a Honkytonk

When I was a young pup, I enjoyed reading Shel Silverstein's "Where the Sidewalk Ends." I liked the way he rhymed, and I enjoyed the fact that his poetry made me think. Many moons later, while looking at the liner notes of a honkytonk album, I saw a song that was cowritten by Shel Silverstein. I wondered if it could possibly be the poet I enjoyed when I was a kid, and it turned out that it was.

To my delight, I learned that the late great Shel Silverstein had written songs that were covered by the likes of Johnny Cash, Loretta Lynn, and Bobby Bare. He also co-wrote "The Taker" with Kris Kristofferson, which was covered by Waylon Jennings. Yes, Shel Silverstein was both a children's poet and a songwriter of the honkytonk variety. And that's where this blog post ends.

Here is "Ned Kelly," the title track for a 1970 Australian film for which Silverstein wrote the music. You will notice the pride of Littlefield, Texas, on vocals.

 

 

Chasin' Rainbows

When I am listening to music online, occasionally I slip down a rabbit hole and find myself in a beautiful place I've never been before. This evening while sliding down the rabbit hole, I came across the music of the Dallas String Band. The band, which was active in the late 1920s and early 1930s, produced only twelve recordings as a group and are considered by some to be a "proto-blues" act or even an "early Texas country band." In terms of bona fides, both Blind Lemon Jefferson and T-Bone Walker sometimes played with the group, though neither recorded with them.

At the bottom of the rabbit hole where I found the Dallas String Band, I also found a rainbow, or at least the song "Chasin' Rainbows." Folks familiar with R. Crumb and His Cheap Suit Serenaders have probably heard the song before, but here is the 1928 original. Please note that the gentlemen in the picture are most likely not the Dallas String Band, though the musicians would have been playing similar instruments.

  

Here is a great biography of the Dallas String Band:

https://www.allmusic.com/artist/dallas-string-band-mn0000139390

   

Fannin Street: From Lead Belly to Guy Clark to Tom Waits

There are plenty of places in Texas named Fannin. There is Fannin County, the town of Fannin, Fannin Middle School, and a fair number of Fannin Streets. But who exactly was Fannin and why is he important to Texas?

In the Texas Revolution, James W. Fannin was the commanding officer who lost his life in the Goliad Massacre on this day in 1836. Before that fateful day at Fort Defiance, Fannin also participated in the Battle of Gonzales and the Battle of Coleto Creek. For more information about this Texian colonel, see: https://tshaonline.org/handbook/online/articles/ffa02     

Folks who have spent any time in Houston have probably been to Fannin Street considering that it runs right through the center of town. Lead Belly sang about one Fannin Street or another, and Houstonian Guy Clark, in his song "Don't Let the Sunshine Fool Ya," tells us that "Fannin Street on an afternoon is such an easy way to get a tune." Tom Waits also sings a little ode to "Fannin Street," and I think it is a fine little ditty. But don't take my word for it, give the video a little clickity-click and listen for yourself.

Barbeque: Post at your Peril

Politics, religion, and barbeque are three subjects I try to avoid. I am, after all, a lover of peace and harmony, not animosity and discord, and I practice tolerance and kindness with all of the energy I can garner. Although I have oft skirted the perils of discussing politics and religion online, I once walked into a barbeque-related ambush in what I thought to be friendly territory.

In a Facebook group dedicated to all things Texas, someone posted the, ahem, innocent question,"What is your favorite barbeque place?" Without a lick of caution, I posted the name of my favorite place, a fine old establishment that never fails to make the Texas Monthly list, and I quickly drew fire. Friendly fire even. While this is nothing like the firestorm started on Twitter when someone asked the incendiary question, "Why is Brooklyn Barbeque Taking Over the World?," I am still a little gun-shy when it comes to barbeque.

So why am I talking about barbeque then? Because, gun-shy or not, I just can't help it. I love it. Viva the brisket! Viva the ribs! That's what I say. And I love places that serve it. I love places with names like Burly Bill's Bona Fide Barbeque (which I just made up) where Longhorn steer horns hang on the wall, a roll of paper towels graces every table, and the strains of Ernest Tubb tickle my ears. That, to me, is what it's all about. So here's a hearty hurray for barbeque and the good folks that serve it!

In case you're curious, click the link below to access barbeque guru Daniel Vaughn's recent piece about Brooklyn Barbeque.

https://www.texasmonthly.com/bbq/brooklyn-barbecue-munchies-photo/

And for your listening pleasure, here is a little hymn from the High Holy Church of BBQ.

Johnson Covnty Covrthovse? Why the Vs?

Yesterday Martina and I visited Cleburne, and while we were there on the square, Martina looked up at the words chiseled on the courthouse and asked, "Why is there a V instead of a U in 'County?'" This was indeed a very good question, and though we both knew that it had something to do with Latin, neither of us knew exactly why V would be chosen over U in the modern era. So I sought digital counsel.

Our friends at dictionary.com, in their explanation of the subject, state that the Latin alphabet only had 23 letters, and U wasn't one of them. The U sound, of course, did exist, but the letter V represented both the U and V sounds. The good ol' letter U, as we know it, was not regularly employed until the 1600s, when printers started using standardized letter shapes. 

According to an article on pampamuseum.org, folks used a V instead of a U on Neoclassical buildings to give those noble edifices a more Roman feel. So, when I think about it, Johnson County was just following suit. And though the Johnson County Courthouse was built in the Texas Renaissance style, using that V in the word "County" would not have been an arbitrary decision because the use of the letter V as a vowel would have been the standard convention for the majority of the Renaissance. But then, my opinion and two bits won't buy you a pecan praline. 

Well, either way, I'm going to call this case closed. I hope y'all have a pleasant Sunday!