Vegans, don’t read this. An animal was killed and eaten as part of this story.
You know that the following narrative is true, because no one could possibly make up something as crazy as this. I also doubted the following quote from Joel Salatin, aka “the world’s most famous farmer,” but now I have incontrovertible evidence that it is true:
The indigenous knowledge base surrounding food is largely gone. When “scratch” cooking means actually opening a can, and when church and family reunion potlucks include buckets of Kentucky Fried Chicken, you know our culture has suffered a culinary information implosion.
Hyperbole? Here’s what happened during my last weekly trip to the Whole Foods Market in Mountain Brook, Alabama.
Thrifty person that I am, I play every angle imaginable when shopping, as long as there is no compromise on quality. I rarely buy any meat other than chicken at Whole Foods, as our local butcher, Brickyard Meats, regularly has local grass fed beef and local pork. They were mostly wiped out on my last trip, and all I scored was some slices of fresh ham, which I marry-nated in a Saumure Anglais, which I believe means something like “English brine” or “English pickle.” So if I wanted decent beef, it was Whole Foods or bust. I was headed to the wealthiest zip code in Alabama, and one of the wealthiest in the South.
Apparently I exuded a false air of respectability, as I was picking out a good chunk of beef from the Amazon Prime specials display, because a young woman with a small child trailing behind her, decided she wanted to know what I was buying.
MBH (Mountain Brook Housewife): “What is that?” She was wearing a Patagonia down vest, zipped up to her neck, even though it was sixty degrees outside.
ME: “It’s a chuck roast.” I pointed at the label while I answered her.
MBH: “How much is it?”
ME: “This is the regular price, and this is the Prime price.” I pointed at the two signs that displayed the prices in large numbers.
MBH: “Could I make beef stew out of that?”
ME: “It would make excellent beef stew or a roast. I’m making a roast.” That answer was a mistake.
MBH: “Could I cut it up?”
ME: “Yes.” I was mentally debating whether or not I should make a run for it.
MBH: “Will they cut it up for me here?” Apparently she had a knife-less kitchen.
ME: “Probably, if you ask the people down at the meat counter.” Those poor suckers.
She made a bee line down to the meat counter, and as I walked by, a tall woman with a butcher’s apron was explaining to her that they had stew meat already cut up in the meat display. I decided it was a good time to head to the restroom. Later, I peeked at her cart while she was checking out, from a safe distance away. There was no stew meat in it. In fact, it appeared that she had nothing but prepared, processed food in there. I had to feel sorry for the poor kid.
MBH had just confirmed one of the most notorious jokes about a Mountain Brook housewife. What is the best thing they make? Reservations.
I only took one small bite. I swear.
The corn meal bread is in the #10 dutch oven, which was a little too large. A chicken and vegetables are in the larger pot. Man cannot live on corn meal bread alone.
White, but not bland.

You talkin’ to me? You talkin’ to me?
This seriously big mixing bowl is a full 14″ across the top. Notice the finger indentations in the surface where the bowl was thrown. Decorated using Brown’s celebrated “splatter” technique.
Smaller mixing bowls came with spouts, and with or without handles.
Soup Bowls! With or without handles, these can take on a seriously hot broiler. We never use anything but these for our Creole onion soup. I love the black glaze on the one without the handle.
This small very decorative bowl was striped with cobalt glaze using a chicken feather, which was another favorite technique of Brown’s.
Now, on to the subject of bakeware. This one is almost too pretty to use, but that was what it was made for.
For years I thought this was a pitcher for iced tea, as that is what we used it for. Imagine my surprise when I saw a very old, very similar piece at
A fat version of the pitcher, with two handles and no lip. “Stop, move away from the cookie jar.” That’s from the BBC version of The Office, where they had a talking cookie jar.
Essentially smaller versions of the cookie jar, but without handles. Brown made other forms of canisters as well.
A more modern style of canister, but with the same great glazes.
A small churn, for someone who has a very small cow, perhaps. My guess is people buy these for the country look.
There’s a more realistic size churn for a real farm. Now I can make up stories about Grandma and her favorite cow.
This guy looks like he’s had one cup of coffee too many. Believe it or not, you could actually drink from this mug, if you can stand the stare. At least it should wake you up.
Why not begin with the best?
This is an actual native American original ingredient. And these are the remains of an archaic native American corn grinder, which came from just a few miles downriver from my house.
Unlike many people, this is my go to grind. Most people add wheat flour to their cornbread, but not me. This powder fine grind is easily the best I’ve ever seen. It’s made by a great family company as well.