Read Online Stiffs and Swine by J. B. Stanley - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: J. B. Stanley
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in his friend’s keen brain. “I can’t wait to watch you on Jeopardy! ”
Bennett, who had gathered his trivia books and sunglasses, hesitated at the door to their room and wiggled his index finger at James. “Don’t go jinxin’ me now. I’m goin’ down by the pool to read. You comin’?”
Grabbing a book on the history of barbecue from his duffel bag, James flopped onto the bed. “I was going to check out the town, but I think I’ll stay in the room for a bit longer. That Jimmy Lang fellow might not have gone back to his RV yet, and I think we’re going to have more than our fill of that guy by the end of this festival.”
Bennett grinned. “Our fill? Nice culinary pun, Professor. I hope you get through that book fast so you can educate the rest of us on regular contest categories before we eat a piece of barbecued possum.”
“You’re kidding, right?” James was alarmed.
“No, man.” Bennett shook his head. “They’ve got a category called ‘Anything Butt.’ And if there’s already categories for chicken, pork, and beef, then what meats do you think are left?”
James rifled through his book until he located the table of contents. “I don’t know, but I’m going to find out before I end up with a piece of rattlesnake ’cue on the end of my fork!”
Inn at Fox Hall’s Warm Chicken Salad
3 cups cooked chicken, cubed
1 cup green seedless grapes, halved
1 cup sliced celery (optional)
1 cup mayonnaise
1⁄2 cup toasted slivered almonds
2 tablespoons lemon juice
2 tablespoons onion, finely chopped
1⁄2 teaspoon salt
1⁄2 cup grated Parmesan cheese
1⁄2 cup bread crumbs
Preheat the oven to 325 degrees and lightly grease a 2-quart baking dish. In a large bowl, mix all of the ingredients except for the grated cheese and the bread crumbs. Spoon mixture into the baking dish. Mix the cheese and bread crumbs together and sprinkle them over the chicken mixture. Bake in the preheated oven until warm and the cheese is melted, approximately 20 minutes. Serve on croissants or toasted buns.
When James and the rest of the supper club members made their way to the Hudsonville town park, the number of people awaiting the kickoff of Hog Fest astounded them. Swarms of men, women, and children of all ages stood beyond the park entrance, talking animatedly and glancing excitedly at their watches.
The park had been divided into quadrants, the largest of which was further partitioned by the main road. Flanking the road, which led to the recreation center on one end and the tent where the barbecue entries would be judged on the other, were vendors selling fried food. These booths offered up all types of batter-dipped foods from sweet potatoes to fried okra to fried bananas to fried peanut butter cups. Behind their napkin-stacked counters, multiple vats of grease bubbled in anticipation. Perspiring merchants wearing a spectrum of colored aprons and matching visors prepared their booths for the imminent crush of hungry customers.
The Flab Five were allowed to enter the festival grounds early as R. C. Richter, the head judge of Hog Fest and president of the Hudsonville Chamber of Commerce, needed to review the rules of the sow beauty queen contest with them. Strolling down the park’s main road in search of the indoor recreation center, the group gazed wide-eyed at the assortment of merchandise being positioned for sale. The fragrant line of food vendors was separated from the dry goods merchants by an area of picnic tables surrounded by garbage cans. James and his friends walked by booths of plush pigs dressed in jean jackets and straw hats, personalized leather key chains, handmade pottery, carved wooden walking sticks, necklaces made from crystallized grains of rice, water colors of the Blue Ridge Mountains, neon windsocks, Hog Fest T-shirts, and much more.
James’s vision began to blur by the time they reached the end row of the tradesmen, but his eyes were assailed by a fresh variety of primary
Bennett, who had gathered his trivia books and sunglasses, hesitated at the door to their room and wiggled his index finger at James. “Don’t go jinxin’ me now. I’m goin’ down by the pool to read. You comin’?”
Grabbing a book on the history of barbecue from his duffel bag, James flopped onto the bed. “I was going to check out the town, but I think I’ll stay in the room for a bit longer. That Jimmy Lang fellow might not have gone back to his RV yet, and I think we’re going to have more than our fill of that guy by the end of this festival.”
Bennett grinned. “Our fill? Nice culinary pun, Professor. I hope you get through that book fast so you can educate the rest of us on regular contest categories before we eat a piece of barbecued possum.”
“You’re kidding, right?” James was alarmed.
“No, man.” Bennett shook his head. “They’ve got a category called ‘Anything Butt.’ And if there’s already categories for chicken, pork, and beef, then what meats do you think are left?”
James rifled through his book until he located the table of contents. “I don’t know, but I’m going to find out before I end up with a piece of rattlesnake ’cue on the end of my fork!”
Inn at Fox Hall’s Warm Chicken Salad
3 cups cooked chicken, cubed
1 cup green seedless grapes, halved
1 cup sliced celery (optional)
1 cup mayonnaise
1⁄2 cup toasted slivered almonds
2 tablespoons lemon juice
2 tablespoons onion, finely chopped
1⁄2 teaspoon salt
1⁄2 cup grated Parmesan cheese
1⁄2 cup bread crumbs
Preheat the oven to 325 degrees and lightly grease a 2-quart baking dish. In a large bowl, mix all of the ingredients except for the grated cheese and the bread crumbs. Spoon mixture into the baking dish. Mix the cheese and bread crumbs together and sprinkle them over the chicken mixture. Bake in the preheated oven until warm and the cheese is melted, approximately 20 minutes. Serve on croissants or toasted buns.
When James and the rest of the supper club members made their way to the Hudsonville town park, the number of people awaiting the kickoff of Hog Fest astounded them. Swarms of men, women, and children of all ages stood beyond the park entrance, talking animatedly and glancing excitedly at their watches.
The park had been divided into quadrants, the largest of which was further partitioned by the main road. Flanking the road, which led to the recreation center on one end and the tent where the barbecue entries would be judged on the other, were vendors selling fried food. These booths offered up all types of batter-dipped foods from sweet potatoes to fried okra to fried bananas to fried peanut butter cups. Behind their napkin-stacked counters, multiple vats of grease bubbled in anticipation. Perspiring merchants wearing a spectrum of colored aprons and matching visors prepared their booths for the imminent crush of hungry customers.
The Flab Five were allowed to enter the festival grounds early as R. C. Richter, the head judge of Hog Fest and president of the Hudsonville Chamber of Commerce, needed to review the rules of the sow beauty queen contest with them. Strolling down the park’s main road in search of the indoor recreation center, the group gazed wide-eyed at the assortment of merchandise being positioned for sale. The fragrant line of food vendors was separated from the dry goods merchants by an area of picnic tables surrounded by garbage cans. James and his friends walked by booths of plush pigs dressed in jean jackets and straw hats, personalized leather key chains, handmade pottery, carved wooden walking sticks, necklaces made from crystallized grains of rice, water colors of the Blue Ridge Mountains, neon windsocks, Hog Fest T-shirts, and much more.
James’s vision began to blur by the time they reached the end row of the tradesmen, but his eyes were assailed by a fresh variety of primary
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