Mom came for a visit recently, and she brought lots of goodies from her garden. She brought fresh tomatoes, and a ton -- and I mean a ton -- of okra.
Okra, she said, is not something she ever grew up with on my Grandpa Ray's farm in southern Illinois. When she and my stepfather Bill got married, it was something she quickly learned to cook, however, as he did grow up with it in Oklahoma. Bill likes his super, super well-done (blackened and crispy).
I made this batch under Ma's supervision, if you will, and it couldn't have been any simpler. You just slice it, dip it in flour (which I seasoned with Adobo and pepper, and a little cayenne), and then fry it.
There is no need for egg or anything like that, as the okra is a bit "slimy" all on its own, and the flour just sticks to it. I didn't put the literal "burn" on this batch that Bill likes, but I liked the little touch of spice that was present due to the cayenne. It is crunchy and fun to eat -- like popcorn.
Still got lots of okra left... I have sliced it up, and stuck it in the freezer for the next time the mood for fried okra strikes me, or perhaps I will make some gumbo with it for Christopher.