Greens Beans Potatoes Novels & Stories

I laughed, “I can definitely see that.” As soon as I sat down, grandma brought a plate of fried chicken, fried potatoes and homegrown green beans with two tomato slices on the side. I asked, “Are these tomato slices from your garden?” Grandma nodded, “So are the green beans.” I groaned, “Yum! You are so sweet. Thank you, grandma.” Grandma replied, “You’re welcome child. We need to keep you fed so you can feed these children.” I laughed, “Grandma, I can only feed two at a time. We are rotating the feedings. When I feed them, two get breast milk while the other two get formula.

“Like you wouldn’t believe.” I grab a couple of the cans. After a quick search, I find that the wooden block beside the sink is full of knives, and I use one of the bigger ones to pop a few of the cans open. I find forks and bring everything over to the table, setting it out for her, feeling as accomplished as if I had actually gone out and made a kill. She grins. “What is all this?” “Kidney beans and potatoes.” She raises her eyebrows. “You read?”

" I asked. "Here," she said, pulling out a list from her book. The writing was something between print and cursive, she wrote her a's like they looked in printed books and her t's had lil fancy curves going up. I glanced at her over the paper as I opened it. Fresh: Green onions 3 bushels onions 10 lbs potatoes 10 lbs carrots a bushel Peppers 5 Celery 4 stalks Tomatoes 3lbs Lemons 10

he said "Okay, I'll like to taste that" Mira replied she doesn't actually have any other choice than to go with what Hugh suggested. "So what are we gonna be using" Mira asked " One can Kidney beans which we already have in the cupboard, pinto beans as well, garbonzo beans too..." He was saying as Mira cut in "Why so many type of beans?" She asked "That's how it's made, we need as many type to make the meal a complete one with a lot of nourishing ingredients" he replied

Mira rolled her eyes and scooped up the cooked greens into a wooden bowl. “That was one time, Becca, and they were only slightly crisp.” “Crisp?” Becca laughed softly, her voice light but tired. “They could have cracked teeth.” Eugene chuckled. The meal came together simply with vegetables, and Becca added herbs she had found the previous evening to strengthen their immune system. Becca glanced across the table at Eugene. “You’re eating like you’ve been starved for days.” He swallowed a mouthful and gave her a half-smile.

It enhanced the simplicity and natural flavor of the stew soup that had a variety of ingredients. Everyone was eating crunchy garlic cloves, having fun, and sweating a lot. We spent a warm and relaxing night. Stew soup was important in the northern food culture. The locals deeply loved it. Pork ribs and chicken were combined with potatoes and vegetables in one of the two big pots. The potatoes were stewed so soft that they melted in my mouth, and the vegetables appeared homegrown by northerners. Even after the stewing process, it still maintained its unique green color and taste.

Verna wasn't easily offended, and she'd dealt with my clipped tongue for years. "Roast beef, mashed potatoes, green beans, and cabbage. Roll, no cornbread, and extra gravy on the meat and potatoes. And tea." "Got it. What about you, Beau?" "Hamburger steak, mac and cheese, peas, and blueberry cobbler. Roll. And Coke." "Peyton?" Verna wrote furiously with the pad about three inches from her face. "Fried chicken, mashed potatoes, fried okra, and creamed corn. Cornbread. And tea." She tucked the menu into the holder. "Oh, and can I get a side of gravy?"

“There are pork chops, would you like those? I know Papa loves them.” “If you would like. I’m not that picky.” Creighton leaned against the sink and folded his arms across his chest, watching as she gathered the meat, then stooped down and took the five large potatoes Nana had him dig up earlier that afternoon from the garden. She placed the items in the sink next to him and began scrubbing the potatoes, preparing them for baking. “Dare I ask what I did this time to make you feel you have to discuss things with me?” she asked with a sly grin.

Nothing about them looked like the sick little plants she had once seen struggling through poisoned dirt back on Earth. Vera pulled the first bush out and froze when heavy potatoes tumbled from the roots. They rolled into the dark soil, clean-skinned, firm, and warm like the ground had been holding them close all night. For a second, Vera could not even move. Her hands were still wrapped around the plant, dirt under her nails, her mouth slightly open, and her heart was beating too fast over potatoes. Actual potatoes. Real food. Something she had not seen grow properly in years. Something she had protected, saved, and carried in her storage like a stupid little dream she refused to throw away

Ivy clearly was afraid Heath would do something or say something about what they were talking about. “We have a strip of mystery meat in gravy. I assumed its beef, so I roasted it and made gravy. Then, for a vegetable, we’ve got peas and carrots. I did some roasted cubed potatoes, too. Now what happened?” Kathy didn’t care about the meal and Ivy knew better than to withhold much of anything from her.