sarah gray wrote:
> Becca > wrote in news:6ge7faFfhss6U1
> @mid.individual.net:
>
>
>>sf wrote:
>>
>>>On Tue, 12 Aug 2008 00:20:46 GMT, sarah gray >
>>>wrote:
>>>
>>>
>>>>I always have a hard time deciding between elephant ears and funnel
>>>>cakes...
>>>
>>>Elephant ears, hands down! Haven't had one in years. <Slobber>
>>
>>For those of us who have never had one, please tell us what an
>
> Elephant
>
>>ear is. Thanks, and here's a potato for you.
>>
>>http://farm2.static.flickr.com/1365/...1b8de35bc3.jpg
>>
>>Becca
>>
>>
>
>
> when nb posted about the potato, I assumed he was talking about these:
> http://badfortunecookie.blogspot.com...fly-fries.html
>
> which they have at the fairs here all the time.
>
> an elephant ear is a large (dinner plate sized) circle of sweetened
> dough, deep fried, and then sprinkled with powdered sugar( and sometimes
> other flavorings.) I am a purist, for the most part. If they have
> cinnamon, I might ask for a little of that
>
> http://www.flickr.com/photos/6412917...423805/in/set-
> 72157601662061344/

At the St. Charles County Fair in addition to the usual fair food, they
sell deep-fried chicken livers and gizzards. You can order either or
both. I go for the livers, which are wonderful just as served, but I
can never resist dousing them in one of the many hot sauces they have on
the counter outside.

That booth (actually a trailer) is always sited down by the horse arena
where they have the rodeo events and mule jumping. I love seeing
teen-aged girls in spangles and Tammy Faye eye makeup wolfing down
deep-fried gizzards then entering the ring on top of twelve hundred
pounds of stupid, roping a calf, then leaping down to tie up three
months worth of vigorously protesting hamburger.

My daughter (age 17) is heading down to the Chuckwagon races with the
crew from her barn Labor Day weekend in Clinton, Arkansas. Three days
of camping, racing, concerts, barn dances and barbecues.
http://www.chuckwagonraces.com/
She's stoked because "Outlaw Wimmen", an Arkansas team she met down
there last year, has asked her to be an outrider for them. The event is
huge, with thousands of horses and riders.

Last year she called me and I could hardly understand what she was
saying for all of the yelling and hollering going on. Turns out she'd
been challenged to a race by some locals and beat them riding bareback,
winning several hundred dollars in the process. The noise was her
friends from the barn carrying on.

In the interim between the official events the announcers would play
music and announce the various unofficial races and grudge matches going
on down on the field. Al, the old man who owns the stable where my
daughter boards her horse, told me they'd announced a race involving a
little red-haired gal ridin' bareback against 4 local boys and he said
he went hustling over to watch because he knew there was only one girl
that matched the description.

She handed them their asses, they handed her the cash and she'd promptly
turned around and gave Al a couple hundred to cover gas money for
trailering the horses down. Then she went shopping, buying presents for
family, friends and the girls she gives riding lessons to.

Al raced in the Snowy River Run (a three day event) and took a rock to
the face, shattering his sunglasses. The next day he told my daughter,
"Girly, I hate to do it but I'm gonna ask you for those fancy glasses of
yours for the race".

She forked over the Oakleys. He took several more rocks to the face,
ruining the glasses but not his eyes, and wound up winning 10 grand on
the race. He gave her a saddle in trade for the shades.

Dear daughter says she's never eaten anything as good as the barbeque
that weekend. The meat came down to the event on the hoof and was
slaughtered and cooked on site. I have no doubt that it was good 'que,
but I also know that hunger is the best spice.

While there she made new friends, kicked some ass, danced under the
stars, rode horses, mules and a longhorn steer - his owner was a great
big gal, probably 6'4", and she'd had him fitted out with a cow saddle.
No bridle, no reins, she'd just reach forward, grab his horns and turn
his head to wherever she wanted to go.

I won't say I don't worry about her, but I also think it's amazingly
cool that there's this part of American history that's still alive and
vibrant and thriving and that she's part of it.