Just like my mom used to make

I keep the legacy of my mother's kitchen alive in many ways. I remember the thoughtfulness of her cooking, I've internalized her dedication to well-rounded meals, I celebrate her devotion to chocolate, and I aspire to her generosity and poise as a host. For a variety of reasons, I do not, however, reprise many of the dishes she made when I was growing up.

The other evening, however, I fried okra-- breading it simply with cornmeal and a hint of salt and browning it until the sides of the slices were wonderfully crunchy while the inside of each piece was still soft, moist, and flavorful. As I drained the little treats on a paper towel and salted them, I realized with pride that I'd accomplished fried okra just like my mom used to make.