On "Being Dead is No Excuse"

I got a new book for Christmas, Being Dead is No Excuse by two Southerners from the Mississippi Delta who are interested in the particularities and peculiarities of post-bellum funerary practices, specifically the food. In a light and amusing style, the authors catalogue the traditions of Greenville, MS, including the different cooking styles of Episcopalian ladies and Methodist ladies. I must admit that, as a Texan--not a Deep Southerner--and as an urbanite--not a small town girl--and as a member of a non-churchgoing family, several of the customs were foreign to me. I don't recall any funerals besides that of my grandmother when I was a little girl. There was hardly a regular funeral scene among our young families; perhaps if I'd grown up Catholic in my mom's small town, it would have been different.

But I can certainly imagine several of the incidents described. And I know the food. My grandmother even had her own favorite tomato aspic recipe! And I've eaten any number of (Methodist lady) casseroles with cream of ___ soup, corn flakes or Ritz crackers or fried onions, and some vegetable or meat in them. They say if you have any of those three, you have a funeral casserole! There were several pimento cheese recipes, fancier than my mom's tasty version with just cheese, a drained can of pimentos, and some mayonnaise (now she also adds chunky salsa). And lots of different deviled, I mean stuffed, eggs. And in all of these, an obsession with homemade mayonnaise and a snobbery about Miracle Whip. Also the love of Lea and Perrins and something called Durkee's Famous Sauce (which I almost bought in my store yesterday just to try it out).

Of course, now that I am on my own church's pastoral care committee and live up here amid a network of Yankee friends, I will say that the obsession with food during funerals is not limited to the South. Perhaps there isn't the same adherence to a traditional menu, but there are a lot of "dump casseroles" and sweets that appear at times of crisis. Though, most of this is delivered for the funeral reception at the church or given to the family privately; I have not been to a post-funeral reception at the home of the bereaved.

The book also contained the usual Southern tidbits about "Coke" being generic for soda and not a specific brand, the obsession with geneaology and names, and the assertion that Southerners are obsessed with manners because during and after the war they had nothing else. My favorite part was about how no one is more Southern than when he or she is in New York City. To that, at least, I can personally attest. So I'm going to take myself down to my kitchen and whip up some homemade mayonnaise and pimento cheese sandwiches. No need to wait for someone to die.

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Mom's Deviled Eggs

4 hard-boiled eggs
2 tablespoons mayonnaise
1/8 teaspoon powdered dry mustard
½ teaspoon Worcestershire sauce
3 to 4 drops bottled liquid hot pepper sauce or 1/8 teaspoon cayenne pepper (optional)
1/8 teaspoon paprika
salt and white pepper to taste
pickles, onions (optional)

Cut eggs lengthwise and gently remove yolks. Mash yolks with a fork, but do not pack. Add mayonnaise, dry mustard, Worcestershire, pepper sauce, paprika, salt, and white pepper. Also, add finely chopped pickles and onions, if desirable. Garnish with paprika, pimiento strips, or sliced olives.

Mom