Friends Drift Inn Farm – Recipes
For the outside world who has no idea what a Paw Paw is, you have missed a true autumn treasure. Creamy, mellow, and richly texured like a custard, Paw Paws are an Appalachian treat foraged on the edges of our woodlands. Follow this link to learn What is a Paw Paw or Pawpaw?
Miss Viola’s Paw Paw Porch
Paw Paw Palooza Series
High above the creek bank, eye level with the tree canopy, is Miss Viola’s Paw Paw Porch. On a cool autumn day, when the leaves are green but teasing with yellow, Miss Viola greets us. Her smile is warmer than dappled Kentucky sunshine.
Viola eyes my shiny red heels disapprovingly. “You aren’t as young as you once were, you know.” At age eighty eight, she is quick to remind us “It is better to admit your age and go on. “
I laugh and inform her she is just jealous of the shoes. A resounding snort of denial echoes through the kitchen, as we fill glasses with the south’s most beloved elixier, sweet tea.
The tall glasses drip cool beads of condensation, as we go clinking to what some might call a covered veranda.
To us, it is just the Paw Paw Porch.
We have a choice of seating. Vintage yellow lawn chairs, or crisp white rockers in a neat little row. We choose the rockers.
Together we survey the back forty. Sun shimmers on the creeks wandering waters. To the right, is the field for sweet potatoes. Crops have been hard to come by this last couple of years. What the floods didn’t ruin, the deer gnawed off. Deer are a nuisance.
No sweet potato crop means store bought ‘taters for Thanksgiving. Miss Viola wrinkles her nose at the prospect. I suggest deer hunting off the porch, never having to leave our rockers or our glasses of tea.
There is a brief silence, while we survey the barren fields. Viola nods knowingly. “It has been suggested before. How’s your aim?” We giggle.
Looking to the yard below, she tells me there are paw paws lying all over the place. I don’t see a single one, but being respectful I walk down the long run of steps to take a look.
“There” she motions with her cane. “And there” she indicates again. “Now look over there by the well.”
Sure enough, there are paw paws aplenty. I trade her jar of Blackberry Jam for the paw paws. We are both pleased.
Autumn is best shared with the friends who know you best. Perhaps over tea and paw paw cake