The Cursed Cook

I was once asked to remove a curse from a frying pan. The pan belonged to a chuck wagon cook named “Salty.” "Salty" was renowned for his beans and bacon, and also his bad temper. Though Bleb and I were a little short on rations when we met "Salty" on the trail, he made no effort to share from his well-stocked supplies. Not long after we met he ran into a spate of bad luck.

“You remember that old Indian who was poking around the wagon the other night,” he said, “and how I swung my pan at him?"

"Yes," I said.

"Ever since, nothing cooks right in that pan. Food either burns or undercooks or tastes like something the steers left behind. I’d get me a new pan but I don’t get paid until the end of the drive. Know anything that will help?”

“It sounds like you angered a desert spirit,” I said. “The Indians expect hospitality and you broke their law, which still applies out here. Getting a new pan won’t help.”

“What should I do?” said "Salty."

“I’d offer a meal to the spirits through an animal representative,” I said.

“What kind of animal?” he asked.

“Well,” I said, “mules are known to descend from a desert breed, and are more kindly disposed to humans than coyotes. I’d start there.”

“I ain't gonna spoil my team,” he protested. “It might give them ideas. You reckon yours will do?”

“I don’t see why not,” I said. “I’ve seen Bleb deal with wild spirits before.”

The cook pulled out several Dutch ovens and set to work. Inside an hour he’d prepared a pot full of grits, a dozen biscuits with sorghum syrup, half a pail of beans and salt pork and six helpings of fried apple pie. Bleb ate it all.

“That ought to do it,” I said.  "Though you might want to test it on a human.”

“You!” he shouted at me. “Try these eggs and bacon and cornbread and fried potatoes!”

I obliged, and after a couple plates I pronounced them edible.

“Are you sure?” he asked.

“Yes, though I was pretty sure earlier,” I said. “My mule normally won’t touch grits. It binds him up.”

Bleb and I continued eastward while the cattle drive moved west. I heard later that the cook got a job with Delmonico’s in New York City, so I guess the curse was truly broken –  plus there was no more manure tea in his frying pan.

Copyright © 2013 Laurie J. Anderson. All rights reserved.

Nutritional Advice

Lots of folks who are vegetarians don’t realize that it is okay to eat meat. Meat is just processed vegetables. Cows have a diet of grass, grain, or corn, and then process them for you, which saves your body the strain of digesting a raw product.

Likewise, when you drink beer, you are getting concentrated grain. Beer for breakfast is perfectly acceptable and a quick way to get your daily dose of grain if you are in a hurry. Whiskey is even better for you because it takes the essence of corn and distills it down to its basics in a super-concentrated form. Alcohol does kill brain cells like you’ve been told, but it only kills the weaker ones, leaving the stronger cells to flourish. So a bottle of whiskey not only nourishes and strengthens you, it makes you smarter as well.

Donuts, cake and cookies are also all made from grain, and they contain sugar, which is known to give you energy. Some physicians advise against other stimulants such as chocolate and coffee, but bear in mind that chocolate and coffee are both made from beans. Beans, as anyone knows, are the chief component of our army’s diet, and if beans can keep a soldier strong, they can keep you strong, too.

So my advice is that you have a breakfast consisting of the following: coffee, bacon, whiskey, sausages, beer, donuts and chocolate chip cookies. You will probably live longer, or at least in a considerably happier state.

copyright ©2009 Laurie J. Anderson, all rights reserved.