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Miranda Lambert: Y’all Eat Yet?: Welcome to the Pretty B*tchin’ Kitchen
By
Published: Apr 24, 2023
Category:
Food and Wine
I haven’t been to Texas since I interviewed Tom Cruise in Dallas in 1989, and given the politics there, the odds I’ll be returning any time soon are zero to none, but after reading Miranda Lambert’s memoir/cookbook, I’m definitely tempted to head Southwest for some Paw Paw, Bev’s chicken salad, and some Hummingbird Cake. And as long as I’m leaving New York, I might like to fly on to Vegas to see her perform.
Miranda Lambert? There are so many attractive blonde country singers out of Texas and Nashville that you can be forgiven for not knowing her. Well, she’s the many-honored one: 3 Grammy Awards, 38 Academy of Country Music Awards, including Entertainer of the Year, and 14 Country Music Association Awards. NPR: “the most riveting country star of her generation.” What’s she sound like? Try “The House That Built Me.” (If you mist up, know that 94 million have).
She also has a memory, and parents and friends who remember more, and now she’s collected those stories, and this Manhattan smartass was charmed by it — Miranda Lambert may have achieved mega-celebrity, but in her book, she is as down-home authentic as her recipe for Paw Paw sauce. [To buy the book from Amazon, click here. For the Kindle edition, click here.]
Here’s the cheat sheet:
From the time I was a little girl, there were always people around. My nonny had a bunch of girlfriends, and they’d get together at the end of the day to catch up, laugh at what had gone on, and have snacks and drinks before they went home to put dinner on the table.
Or they’d have impromptu dinners, followed by her father playing guitar and singing Texas country music. Please appreciate the Texas theme: her mother was head cheerleader in high school and her grandmother (“Nonny”) was “Dallas stunning,” voted Most Beautiful in her high school two years in a row.
When Miranda was 13, her mother took her to Greene Hall, a Texas music shrine. There she told her daughter, “You get up on that stage.” She put her hands on Miranda’s boots and said, “Lord Jesus, we claim this stage in Your Name, in Your glory, through Miranda’s voice.”
A few years later, Miranda and her mother were visiting five radio stations a day, handing out home-recorded CDs, with Miranda sometimes writing songs in the back seat of the car. The family was clear about the intent. Her father: “We’re spending your college money on this CD and for you and your mom to go traipsing all over Texas, so you’d better be serious.”
Soon she had a #1 on the Texas chart. “Sounds like some made-up country redneck shit or some kind of Hallmark cowgirl movie, but that’s how it was.” Some things didn’t change: watching the Cowboys on Thanksgiving, chopping down a Christmas tree. Some things did: buying a used Airstream, then a real tour bus.
And this, above all: “Just as there’s no substitute for someone’s fingers on guitar strings, singing a song you love, there’s no feeling like hearing your friends’ voices or hugging someone’s neck.”
This city cynic raises a Bud Light to that.
PAW PAW SAUCE
makes 1 quart
¼ cup vegetable oil
1/2 cup finely chopped green bell pepper
½ cup finely chopped yellow onion
2 cups ketchup
2 TBS mustard
2 TBS Worcestershire sauce
¼ cup light brown sugar
In a skillet, heat the oil over medium heat. Add bell pepper and onion and sauté until tender and the onion is slightly translucent (about 5 minutes). Stir in the ketchup, mustard, Worcestershire sauce, and brown sugar and bring to a boil. Reduce the heat to low and simmer for 15-20 minutes, or longer, if you like.
Serve the sauce hot or cold. Leftovers can be stored in an airtight container in the refrigerator for up to a week.
