Junction City App News Center: 2015-08-09

A Traditional Farm Life

By Shasta Hamilton

Greetings from Enterprise, dear friends! This week we celebrate our oldest son’s fourteenth birthday. Where do the years go? The youngest of our six children is now four, and the days of diaper bags now seem a relic of the past.

The challenges of young adulthood lay before us, but with God’s help, we shall make it through. It is only by the Lord’s great mercy we’ve made it thus far, for our six children have two very human parents.

So, this week we will take a moment to savor the joys of still having young children in the nest. The last several weeks we have had the privilege of enjoying several “childisms.” You know what I mean, those out of nowhere comments that leave parents chuckling.

First, a little background. You may have guessed this already, but I was named after the Shasta daisy. My children are, or course, familiar with this story.

A week or two ago, my 8-year-old daughter brought up the fact we had not planted any Shasta daisies here on the farm after we moved. I replied we just didn’t have time this year for flowers, but maybe next year we would. After a moment’s thought, she replied, “It sure was nice of them to name the Shasta daisy after you.”

This same daughter was helping me water my woe-be-gone herb patch last night. Around our house, my lack of skill in the green and growing department is legendary. I often refer to myself as having a “brown thumb.”

Apparently my daughter rates her own skills in the same category. As we were watering last night she solemnly told me, “I guess I just have a brown hand.”

Our next childism didn’t even come from our own children, but highlights the nature of children near and far. A young boy and girl recently came into the restaurant, the girl hanging back by the door and the boy cautiously approaching my husband behind the counter. “Are you still doing that special thing for birthdays?” the boy asked.

He was referring to the free cookie we give children on their birthday. Catching the drift, my husband responded, “You mean cookies? Why yes we do, “ and he handed the boy a couple cookies for the pair to enjoy on this momentous occasion.

The boy accepted the free cookies, and turned to leave. As he reached the girl at the door and handed her a cookie, he told her, “I told you it would work!”

Our move here to Enterprise last fall put us between one and two hours away from both sets of our children’s grandparents. We have been fortunate enough to have several retired couples in the Enterprise area help fill in the gap. Met through the Farmer’s Market, our restaurant, and our church fellowship, with time we have drawn close to these kind folks, and we and our children have developed a real rapport with them.

One of these fun-loving friends will call the restaurant, and when our ten-year-old daughters answers, will attempt to disguise his voice and order “Turtle Lip Soup and Scrambled Buzzard Eggs.” The first time this happened she about fell for it, but recognized something familiar in his voice. With time it’s become a running joke between them.

Last Friday night at the restaurant she answered the phone and the caller asked for—you guessed it—Turtle Lip Soup and Scrambled Buzzard Eggs. After some consultation with her oldest brother and her dad, she was ready to fulfill that request.

Saturday morning she was hard at work at the stove, creating her best version of “Turtle Lip Soup.” She started with a base of chicken broth and threw in some ditalini pasta. Then she added a can of cream of chicken soup, some pickled jalapenos (the turtle lips) and an outrageous amount of Louisiana Hot Sauce (our friend likes it hot, you know).

About the time she was ladling it in a wide mouth quart canning jar, our friend and his wife pulled into the drive—perhaps a little cautiously, as my husband had sent our friend over to pick up his “carry out” order.

She handed him the jar with a big smile, he opened the lid and took a whiff, closed it, and something very unusual happened—our fun-loving, prankster friend was speechless.

While we don’t recommend you try this at home, we can’t resist passing on our daughter’s recipe for . . .

Turtle Lip Soup

2 cups chicken broth

1/2 cup ditalini pasta

1 can cream of chicken soup

1/4 cup pickled jalapenos, with liquid

Louisiana Hot Sauce, to taste

Bring chicken broth to a boil; add pasta. Boil until tender. Add cream of chicken soup and jalapenos; bring to a simmer. Add Hot Sauce to taste. Serve to your favorite heat-loving prankster with a smile.

Shasta is a fifth generation rural Kansan now residing in Enterprise, Kansas. She and her husband own and operate The Buggy Stop Home-Style Kitchen with their six home-schooled children. You can reach The Buggy Stop by calling (785) 200-6385 or visit them on the web at www.thebuggystoprestaurant.com.

Junction City App News Center

Saturday, August 15, 2015

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Monday, August 10, 2015

A Traditional Farm Life - Turtle Lip Soup

A Traditional Farm Life

By Shasta Hamilton

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