She wuz a Southern Girl...

She was a Southern Girl......and lawd she could cook.. I remember the first time I went to her house... It was early on a Saturday morning...I had got up, shaved..showered, splashed on some
'jamaica Boy "cologne that I'd gotten from the Barber shop up on 46th Street the week before.
My Car was in the shop ,So I caught the El at 56th & Market nd rode to 15th and Market ,where I switched to the Broad Street Subway. I rode the subway to Broad and Olney and then caught a bus over to Tupelhocken Street, where she lived.

Normally ,I wouldn't catch a bus, The Elevated Train , The Subway and another bus to see anybody. Hell, I don't use that much Public Transportation to get to Work...but Mabel Jenkins was special. See, She was a Southern Girl....From Monroe, Louisiana , she said...Every curve on that woman's body was well defined...I tell you and she could cook....she could cook!

When I got to her house...Mabel was cooking her world famous Fried Chicken...I often wondered
what made her Fried Chicken taste so much better than anybody else's I'd ever tasted.
She always looked at me and winked and said- "That's cause you from Philly....you don know nothin bout a southern girl's special magic she said."

She took four cups of all purpose flour,divided, two tablespoons of garlic sauce, 1 tablespoon of
paprika, 3 divided teaspoons of black pepper, 2 and a half teaspoons of poultry seasoning, two
eggs, one and a half cups of lukewarm water..one teaspoon of salt and my only contribution to
the meal....Two three and a half pounded broiler frying chickens, which I had purchased from
the Shop rite on 52nd and Jefferson the day before and began to work her magic.

I watched as she took a large resealable plastic bag and added the garlic, flour, paprika,
black pepper and poultry seasoning...and closed the bag and mixed it up....I watched attentively
as pretty brown frame began to shake the bag and everything about her began to shake in all of
the right places.

She took a big white bowl and added water,two eggs ,salt and the remaining flour and pepper.
She dipped the chicken in the egg mixture and then placed it in the bag. She only placed a few
peices at a time...then she shook the bag until all of the chicken parts were coated.
She heated the chicken in a deep fat fryer at 375 degrees...

While the chicken was frying...I tossed a couple of ears of corn in a boiling pot of hot water,
and made a pitcher of red kool aid...I hit the CD player and played a little Frankie Beverly
and Maze...It was definitely an old school kind of day..We was gonna feast and then a knock
came to the door.

Of course I told Mabel to ignore it...but you know women...between the door and the phone they
got to answer it. No sooner had she gone to the door then he came in. His name was Clerow and'
like her, he was from the South.

"I thought you was in jail" she yelled as he pushed his way through the door.

"I'm out...what is HE doin here?" he snarled as he looked at me.

"That's my man now...we aint together no more Clerow...Ah told you, you gots to go."
said Mabel.

I was anticipating a fight and I steeled up for one....

Clerow looked, then he sniffed-

"Mabel ,is that your famous Crispy Fried Chicken??" He said ,seemingly in awe....

"Yes it is." she said.

"There's enough here for all of us " I said..."Let's sit down here and enjoy some a this good food man." I said.

The three of us sat down and ate Mabel's good fried chicken, corn on the cob, and drank
Kool Aid....Clerow was so full and content that he got up and left...Apparently he forgot why
he came and what he was so angry about.

I'm certain he'll be back and this will have to be settled but for today, Mabel's good cookin helped usavoid what could have been a bad scene for all involved...Mabel was just good that
way...

She was a Southern girl..