Fried Okra

Late season gardens tend to provide a wealth of veggies, but there's one in particular in my garden that seems to be showing off at the moment--it's the okra.  Thankfully I like show-offs, and let me tell you, there's nothing I like better in the waning days of Indian Summer than a fresh batch of good old-fashioned fried okra.  I think you'll feel the same once you try it, so here's what you need:

8-10 okra pods
3/4 cup flour
1 tsp sugar
1/2 tsp garlic salt
1/2 tsp Old Bay seasoning
2 eggs
1/4 cup bacon grease

Now let's start at the beginning:

I like colorful produce, so I grow both traditional green okra and this heirloom variety known simply as "red okra".  I plant my okra in the spring, but it's not until the hot dry days of late summer that it really takes off.  The plants spend the season growing, and once they reach about five feet high they start flowering these pretty hibiscus-like blossoms that quickly turn into little nubs of okra.

Once that baby okra pod starts forming we're off to the races, and it's me vs. the okra plants.  The pods grow so fast it's all I can do to keep them picked.  I have to check them once a day because if I don't, they'll grow into a long, tough-as-nails, hard-husked seed pod that is great for seed-saving, but definitely too tough for eating.  (Unless you're a chicken.  And since I have been known to occasionally forget to pick the okra, my chickens eat plenty of it.  At least it doesn't go to waste!)

I do my best to keep the okra picked, though, because they taste best when they are no more than 5 inches in length--beyond that they tend to develop that toughness I mentioned.  This small size is perfect for frying, and I start by slicing off both ends of the pod and then cutting that middle section into inch-ish pieces.

I also make sure to get that bacon grease into the skillet and start heating it up now.  It's important to fry these fellas in hot grease so they cook up nice and crispy.  You could use a different oil for this, but fried okra is such a seasonal specialty for me, when I make it I want to make it right.  And to make it right, bacon grease has to be involved.  No question about it.  Amen.

I crack a couple of eggs into a dish and scramble them up a bit.  This is one of the green eggs from my pretty little Isbar hen, who spends dawn to dusk pecking at all those pesky critters crawling through the grass toward my garden.  I like her a lot.

And I like to toss the dry ingredients into a bowl and whisk them together next.

Then I drop some of the sliced okra into the egg dish and stir them around a bit to coat them. 

I love bright colors and odd shapes.  Just saying. 

These beauties then get dumped unceremoniously into the flour bowl, and once again, get rolled around until they're coated.  Let me just say, I am not careful about this.  I don't have the patience to make sure each piece gets evenly coated, so if they stick together, then they stick together.  It just makes for an extra big, yummy bite later on--and those double doses generally have my name on them.

That bacon grease should be sizzling by now, so the breaded okra gets tossed right on into it. 

Sizzle sizzle, pop pop.  I can't imagine a world without bacon grease...or fried okra. 

It doesn't take long for these guys to start browning up, and when they do I flip them over and let that other side cook.  I feel that's only fair.  And I like to think of myself as a fair-minded person.

Kindly keep your opinions to yourself; my bubble is not in need of bursting today.

Ooh!  Feast your eyes!!  This is what happens to them after a few minutes--they get that nice-n-crusty golden-brown look to them, and they smell absolutely fantastic.  I quickly scoop them out on a paper towel, which soaks up any excess grease, and then it's time to serve them up.

Except I eat about half of 'em before I even get them into the serving dish.  But hey, I just consider it a reward for all my hard work.  What does make it into the dish gets served up with a bit of ranch dressing, which turns this tasty treasure into an even more tantalizingly tangy treat. 

Give me a minute while I untwist my tongue...I'm gonna need it to taste all this great garden goodness!

Oh boy.