Over the years, I have become quite the fan of boiled peanuts.

I remember the first time my father bought some from a wizened old man at a roadside stand in the Carolinas. The shells were an ugly, dark brown color and the peanuts themselves looked more like pinto beans or kidney beans to me. They were soft like cooked beans, too, and salty.

Not everyone in my family likes them, but my own devotion to boiled peanuts was sealed when our buddy Mike started bringing them to the beach every summer. There's nothing like sitting back in your beach chair, listening to the ocean and sucking on salty boiled peanuts.

Yesterday, I came across some green (raw) peanuts in the shell at a local market. I wondered: Could I possibly recreate the boiled peanuts of the roadside stands in the Carolinas? The answer was a resounding NO, I could not recreate them. At least not in about 45 minutes.

I did try, however. I boiled them for about 20 minutes in salty water, then let them soak for another 10 minutes or so. At that point, everyone got impatient for a snack, so I drained them and served them up.

The shells looked nothing like the lovely ones pictured above. They just looked like tan peanut shells. I wondered where that dark color comes from. The peanuts inside were softened and had a nice flavor, but they were nowhere near as salty as roadside boiled peanuts.

I realized then that every time I've bought boiled peanuts, they've come out of a big cauldron filled with hot, salty water. Who knows how long they have been sitting there? Perhaps all day. And maybe steeping in that liquid for hours turns them a darker color and lets the salt soak in.

I'm sure some Southerner out there has the answers to these questions. I don't consider this a failed experiment, just the first attempt at a snack that I'm determined to keep practicing until I get it right. Isn't that the secret to most good cooking?

In case you missed it, check out today's Front Burner column about the Mason jar's 150th birthday this year. The actual birthday, I guess, would be the patent date of November 30, but with so many pressure cookers hissing away during the summer months to preserve veggies from the garden, it seemed like a great time to wax nostalgic about the versatile container.

As I wrote in the column, my memories are full of Mason jars. And those jars in my mind are filled with everything from Grandma's damson preserves to Paw-Paw's honey to the squirrel torsos Mom used to can for Dad's eating pleasure.

In fact, our pantry was always lined with a whole rainbow of fruit- and veggie- filled Mason jars. And that was just the beginning. They hung out in the shed, filled with seeds, and in the garage, filled with nails and pins and anything else my dad or my grandfather saw fit to fill them with.

I'd love to know your fondest memories of the Mason jar. Does anyone collect them? As you'll see in my column, they can be worth quite a bit of money if you know what you're looking for.

Matthew Rowley, who wrote a book called "Moonshine!" shared a recipe with me for the story, but it came in too late for press. I'll share it here instead.

It's not what you're thinking, you naughty kids! That stuff is illegal! This is a recipe for a spiced-up homemade "ketchup" that Rowley says is tasty on everything from sandwiches to soup to roasted meat. Sounds like a great way to spice up meatloaf, too.

Why don't people like beets? I pondered this question last night as I slowly chewed and savored my tiny, baby beets.

It made me think of how my mother used to serve us sliced, boiled beets for dinner and I would scarf them up with just a little salt to complement their naturally sweet flavor. What kind of little kid eats beets without complaint? Well, maybe I'm recalling a rosier version of the tale, but I'm pretty sure that kid was me.

Fast forward to earlier this month, when my story about local food producers was published in the newspaper. Splashed across the front of the Extra section was a picture of Richard Ursomarso up at Waterbear Mountain Farm holding a big clump of dirt-covered beets that he had just pulled from the earth.

Somewhere along the way, they were incorrectly identified as turnips in the caption. By the time the proofs came around, I was on vacation. Would I have recognized them as beets instead of turnips? I'd like to think so, but since it's been a coon's age since I ate a fresh beet, I decided that I had better reacquaint myself.

Well, I didn't make it out to Ukrop's big one-year anniversary celebration on Saturday because I was preparing for the hubby's birthday party. But from the looks of the parking lot, it was a big success.

I promised Jonathan Rhudy, my PR contact at Ukrop's, that if he sent me a picture of their Mill Mountain cake, I'd post it on the blog. So here it is, before it was demolished and eaten by a crowd of Ukrop's shoppers. The fellows standing behind the cake are Jeff Ukrop, zone manager for Ukrop’s, Jim Goodman, Ukrop’s executive pastry chef, and Jason Woodcock, Ukrop’s Roanoke store manager.

I think it's kind of fitting that this picture came in the week after I wrote about brightly colored wedding cakes. If anyone wants a kelly green wedding cake, this is what it might look like. Minus the little tractor trailer (or not -- whatever you're into).

A few fun facts about the cake:

I like the way Dennis notes the month, day and year almost with the precision of a new father reporting the birth of his first child. I'm surprised that Dennis didn't include a weight in there somewhere. Ha!

I have to tease him, but I'm quite familiar with that sense of pride. It was with much excitement this weekend that I discovered tiny green fruits on all four of my tomato plants, which are the first ones I've ever grown on my own. Until I saw those tiny gems hidden in the foliage, I wasn't quite sure that I could make it work. I guess I'd better not count my tomatoes before they're ripe, though.

All of this reminds me of my grandfather's rivalry with my dad over who would produce the first ripe tomato of the season. One time, Paw-paw bought a fire-engine red plastic tomato and wired it onto one of his plants just to tease my Dad. Until Dad realized it was fake, he was practically crippled with jealousy.

Ahhh, good times in the country.

We don't talk much about wine or music on this blog, but I can't see how anyone who enjoys food as much as my blog readers wouldn't enjoy a little vino and some great tunes to go along with it.

That's why I want to remind you all of a special event next weekend, July 5 and 6, called Wine Down the Music Trail.

Wine Down takes place right off the Blue Ridge Parkway at the FloydFest site, which is located just before you get to Chateau Morissette. Shamefully, I admit that I have never been, but my co-worker, Ralph, says it's the prettiest open ridge, complete with a permanent stage and a lovely view of the mountains.

More than 16 different local wineries will be represented there, so you'll have a chance to taste a slew of samples. There are shuttle buses from Roanoke and Blacksburg this year, too, in case you're worried about drinking and driving.

For our purpose, I wanted to know what kind of food will be available at the festival. Danica Mingee at Across the Way Productions, which puts on the festival, was kind enough to e-mail me a detailed list of vendors, which I will attach below the jump. It made my mouth water!

You're also welcome to bring a picnic of your own; there's no rule that says you have to eat what's offered there. Of course, with offerings like pintos and cornbread, lobster mac 'n' cheese, crabcakes, green curry and fried cheesecake, you might want to bring a picnic AND sample the fare!

For all the details about the festival, head to the Across the Way Web site here.

It is the height of cookout season. You're expected to bring a side dish.

At almost the last minute, in an effort to avoid another trip to the grocery store, you pull out the elbow macaroni and mayonnaise with plans to concoct one of summer's least inspiring dishes: macaroni salad.

Now, I'm sure there are folks out there who adore macaroni salad, and I'm not saying it can't be good if it's prepared well. Usually "well" involves fresh tomatoes and grated cheddar, in my opinion. But overall, I agree with Sara Dickerman, who wrote a recent article for Slate.com about pasta salad, when she says "Pasta salad is the wallflower of summer foods: It almost always makes it to the barbecue, but no one quite remembers who invited it."

The rest of her article is equally amusing and enlightening. Ultimately, she says the key to a good cold noodle dish is "attentive seasoning, both with salt and with more aromatic ingredients like fresh herbs and scallions."

I would urge you to read the entire article here. You'll surely enjoy it as much as I did. But in the interest of time, I will boil down her twelve tips here:

First it was pepper, then pear, then grape, then blueberry. Now we've got root beer vodka.
The possibilities would at first appear to be quite limited. You could mix it with...well, root beer, I suppose.

Or, as the Three Olives company suggests, you could fix yourself a spiked root beer float.

Okay, that's about all I can think of to do with root beer-flavored vodka, except perhaps drink it straight up.

Maybe the possibilities ARE quite limited.

Does this sound tasty to anyone? Anyone able to think of another cocktail that could be made with this bizarre flavor?

A few years ago, an acquaintance brought an appetizer like this to a cookout at my friend's house. I can remember being awestruck over how beautiful it was. I could only assume that she had spent a great deal of time putting it together.

As it turns out, this Greek cheese torta is actually quite simple to prepare. I recently found a similar recipe in some Pampered Chef literature that might even be easier than the original version I had.

The white cheeses, green spinach and pistachios and bright red sun-dried tomatoes make for a lovely, colorful dish (Sorry I don't have a picture). And of course, with all those ingredients, the flavor just explodes in your mouth.

If you're heading to a cookout this weekend or next and you want to bring something a little different than the usual deviled eggs (not that I don't adore deviled eggs), check out this recipe.

I always recommend that folks read recipes all the way through before they begin. With this one, you'll see when you read it that the ingredients are going to be packed into a small to medium glass bowl, then inverted onto a platter to form a nice, round mound. You could make the torta ahead of time and leave it in the bowl until you're ready to invert and serve.

He thought it would be particularly timely in light of the recent salmonella scare involving tomatoes.

To read the article, click here.

Just the other day, I was telling my friend that I miss the good old days when you knew whether or not you'd won something as soon as you twisted the lid off a product.

When my grandfather owned his country store in Goshen, I used to pop the top off Coke bottles and find out if I'd won a free Coke or something just by looking under the top.

These days, all you get is something like LJK9BF7V. Maybe that means I won a brand new Corvette, but I'm too lazy to go online or call or do whatever it is I'm supposed to do to decipher the code.

Now I'm starting to sound a lot like my co-worker, Kevin Kittredge. Maybe I should give him this topic for his next "Grrrrrr!" column.

There is a point to all this whining, though -- I just got the coolest e-mail from the folks over at Duke's mayonnaise. This summer, they're having an "Under the lid" promotion. All you have to do is remove the safety seal and look under the lid to find out if you've instantly won $100 in free groceries or a free 32-ounce jar of Duke's mayo.

The cash would be awesome, but I would be tickled pink to just win a free jar of Duke's. Lots of Southern cooks swear by Duke's mayonnaise and wouldn't use any other brand (I'm betting that Edna Lewis did NOT use Hellman's). So while we're all planning our macaroni salad, potato salad, deviled eggs and other mayonnaisey dishes for Fourth of July cookouts, maybe we should sneak a peek under that lid!

Photo source: www.dukesmayo.com

I spent the first official day of summer enveloped in hickory smoke.

This Saturday, my dad and his friend, Bob, smoked three huge racks of pork ribs up at our Bath County river house. I made some zucchini and summer squash on the grill, but other than that, I had absolutely nothing to do with these beauties.

Well, I did have SOMETHING to do with them: I ate some. Wouldn't you?

According to Dad, he used a dry rub on all three racks. Then, for the sake of experimentation, they smoked one rack with just the dry rub and used sauce on the other two racks. One got Stubb's and the other got Kraft barbecue sauce, which had been doctored up a bit by Bob.

We all decided that the dry rub finished off with sauce is the way to go. But all three racks were absolutely delicious.

I believe I may have to invest in a smoker one of these days. I can't seem to get the thought of smoked trout out of my mind now. Anyone out there like to smoke meat? I'd love to hear some of your tips.

* Update: The online local food guide has been updated with about a dozen new farms! If you haven't checked it out yet, please do. You can search by the type of local food that interests you, such as eggs or fruit or pork, as well as your location. You could even search by both!
I will continue to update the guide as new farmers contact me with information.

* White Lily, the queen mother of all light, fluffy Southern biscuits, has been produced in Knoxville, Tenn. since 1883. But the new owner, the J.M. Smucker Company, has seen fit to move production of this Southern specialty to two Midwest plants. It's a change that has some biscuit lovers recoiling in shock. As blog reader Deb, who sent me this tip, put it: "Oh, the horror!"
To read more about this, check out this piece in The New York Times.

* Chocolatepaper, Southwest County's trendiest sweet shop, is opening a second location in downtown Roanoke. Matt Burkett, who owns the card shop/chocolate shop with his uncle, Mark Burkett and Stan McCulloch, says they hope to open the new store by September 1.
Mark Burkett and Stan McCulloch also own Mongrel, one of the coolest little gift shops I've seen anywhere. Mongrel is located in Carytown in Richmond.
Matt said they hope the downtown foot traffic and tourism will drive business at the new store. You can bet that as soon as the new location opens, I'll be stopping in to satisfy my post-lunch sweet tooth.
As an added bonus, there will now be a spot downtown for cool greeting cards, as well. I often find myself needing to pick up a card on my lunch break, so Chocolatepaper will make life a little easier.

* Finally, Thai Orchid, which was formerly housed at the Jefferson Motor Lodge, has re-opened in downtown Roanoke. The new location is in the former Swagat Indian restaurant spot on First Street near Florabella.
Since I'm fighting off a summer cold, I plan to head over there for lunch today and order the most hellishly spicy dish that I can tolerate. Die, germs, die! Update: After having walked down there to have lunch, I realized it isn't open just yet. It opens July 1.

Here's my first attempt at fried green tomatoes.

I threw them together last night on my husband's dinner break, and they turned out pretty good. As you can see, I served them with summer squash and a piece of sauteed tilapia.

I thought I had cornmeal in the cupboard, but I didn't. I ended up dipping the tomato slices in a mixture of egg and milk with a few drops of hot sauce, then dredging them in seasoned flour and frying in oil. Flavorful, but not as crunchy on the outside as I would like. I suppose practice (and a little cornmeal) will make perfect.

If anyone else decides to attempt fried green tomatoes as a result of our discussion this week, please try to send a picture. I would love to see them!

The produce fairy came again yesterday while I was at work, leaving a huge armful of fresh rosemary and basil. I plan to use some of the fresh rosemary within the next few days, but I cannot possibly use it all.. Since I love the herb so much, I'm going to dry it and save it for future use. I did a little research about drying herbs and found out that not every herb dries well.