"George Shirley" > wrote in message
...
| Charlotte L. Blackmer wrote:
| > In article >,
| > George Shirley > wrote:
| >> Try this site on Louisiana cooking, mirletons are commonly called
| >> Alligator Pears around this part of Louisiana.
| >>
| >> http://www.cookinglouisiana.com/Articles/Mirletons.htm
| >
| > That is interesting, because I remember hearing "alligator pear" for
| > avocadoes in my yoot, before the California Avocado Board got busy with
| > advertising.
| >
| > I didn't see chayote/mirleton until I was an adult, but apparently the
| > vines grow well around here (coastal part of the San Francisco Bay
| > Area). I don't think they have a state marketing board (at least in my
| > state) .
| >
| > Charlotte
| Avocados don't grow well down here so we, to my knowledge, never called
| them "alligator pears," that was always reserved for chayote, what we
| called them over in Texas where I was raised.
|
| Life can be strange, I grew up not 35 miles from where we presently
| live. But it was in another state and another state of mind. Folks here
| are big into partying, festivals, etc. Where I grew up life revolved
| around your church and your school. Most of the menfolk worked shift in
| refineries or chemical plants unless they worked shift in one of the
| three shipyards that used to be there. Now the shipyards are all in
| Singapore or South Korea but the plants are still there. Food was
| different too, pinto beans instead of kidney beans, aka "red" beans.
| Potatoes instead of rice, mostly, we also ate a good deal of rice as we
| were surrounded by rice fields. Kids I grew up with came from two kinds
| of families, rice and cattle farmers or plant workers. A great many of
| us went on to college, became aeronautical engineers, doctors, lawyers,
| etc. All out of a graduating class of 32 people, the largest in that
| school in forty years. Now the high school is a 5A football school, the
| rice fields are subdivisions, my old elementary school is the Flying J
| truck stop, and we're all old fogies when we meet each other. Still, it
| was a great place to grow up and all the ladies were fantastic cooks,
| each with her specialty. The men could all barbecue, hunt wild game,
| fish the local waterholes, and build anything that needed building. A
| very self-sufficient community where no one went hungry, or homeless, or
| without people around them. A lost time but a great memory.
|
| What sparked the memories? Another one of us went to his reward today
| and we will all remember him Tuesday when I go home for his memorial
| service. Haven't seen him in thirty years but can pull his youthful face
| out of my memory without strain. I reckon someday we will all be
| together again but I'm not in a big hurry. <G>

Thank you for that wonderful description and retrospective. We all have
enjoyed our heritage and wondered at the changes; you expressed the
love and angst beautifully. The "...lost time but a great memory" is a
classic evocation of our years of yore. I really appreciate having read
your comments. May your friend have peace forever.

pavane