Same batter but drop spoons full into a greased skillet and fry them like pancakes. Flip them over when they begin to bubble so they'll brown on both sides.

Oh . . . I always have an egg in my batter, too. That helps.

So delicious too!!!!
I like to take a couple of pork chops or the pork cutlets put them in crock pot with Sauerkraut. You could also add onions or potatoes if you want. We just like pork cutlets and the kraut. You could brown the chops or just put in pot to cook and eat. I love it fixed this way....

Sounds good, Charleen. But I don't eat pork, though I don't mind the flavor that bacon gives to other foods. It isn't that I choose to not eat most meats, it's that I've really never liked the texture of them in my mouth. I never could get past that first bite.

I will try the corn cakes some time. Yes, I too always have an egg in my cornbread batter.

I do love sautéed red cabbage and pork chops with a bit of applesauce on the side.

ummmm am making myself hungry and I still have leftovers to clear up.

Kraut and apples, baked with pork chops.

I've heard of that too, Mary, though never tried it with apples.

There is an interesting side effect to all this cabbage/cauliflower due to which I keep away even though I love cabbage soup. Flatulence.
Regards,
Arif.

Plan ahead. Some things are worth it.

MaryE said:Plan ahead. Some things are worth it.

Oh, @Sharon, we must be kindred spirits.

As a child, one of my chores was to weed our vegetable garden. That garden was an important source of food for our family because my father was a contractor and couldn't get much work during the winter months. I didn't mind the weeding chore as much as I did the housekeeping chores ... still true today.

My father loved okra, but I hated it and decided it was a weed. Since I decided that okra was a "weed", I diligently pulled up every bit he planted. My father could grow anything, but he could never understand why he couldn't grow okra. He planted it every year in different sections of the garden, but it never came up.

One day, I got caught with a bucket full of okra "weeds" in my weed bucket. My father stood there looking at me and at my bucket and I stood there looking up at him expecting to be truly punished. After a long, long silence he quietly said to me, "If you don't pull up my okra, I promise I won't let your mother make you eat it."

I asked him, "You won't let her sneak it into soups either ?"

His answer was, "No. You will never have to eat okra again."

After that, I tended his okra better than any other vegetable in the garden.

I still don't like okra.

Smiles,
Lyn

That is so funny, made even funnier by all the time that's passed since then. What a sweet memory for you.

I did something similar with carrots, I didn't mind eating raw carrots, but hated them cooked. My grandmother finally got the message. Luckily okra didn't grow in the mountains, so I never had to deal with it and I like it when battered and fried, but not cooked carrots, no way.

Your dad was a very understanding man, great memories for you, I'm sure.
Thanks for reading the story.