“Misses” - a song about affinity
Step 1 - Place a strainer over a large bowl. Add pickles (reserve jar), and let strain for 30 seconds. Return pickles to jar. Reserve juice in bowl.
Step 2 - Add Kool Aid and sugar to pickle juice and whisk until dissolved. Pour pickle juice mixture over pickles in jar.
Step 3 - Seal jar and refrigerate at least 5 days before eating.
Story Pairing
I love food in the south. That’s what I think of when I play this song. Recently I was driving through southern Louisiana, and you’d be hard pressed to find an area along the Mississippi River with better food. A favorite dish of mine is the boudin ball, a sausage/rice/hushpuppy sort of magic.
A place I stopped in Jennings, LA was called Boudin King. It was sitting empty at 10:30am, so I had the entire place to myself. Because of that the manager came out and was asking me how I heard of them and where I was from. I was writing in my notebook prior, and I really think that peaks restaurant owner’s interest. I wonder if anyone ever thinks I am an undercover food critic or something, because I really do seem to get better service as soon as I pull my little green notebooks out.
So this woman was asking me where I was from, and seemed surprised that an OH boy was so anxious to suck down some creole food. That happens a lot too. People seem surprised when a midwestern boy is food adventurous. I don’t mean to back my region into a corner, but we do like to boil things…. and spice isn’t always a strong love in the north. So she was excited to share and had nothing else to do. I had only ordered a bowl of gumbo and a side of boudin balls. That didn’t seem like enough to her. She asked if I wanted to try the hot boudin sausages, I said yes (I truly don’t think I have ever answered that question with a no). She called back to the kitchen that she needed an order, and a minute later a clearly thrilled 20 something brought out a plate of two sausages. I started to eat one and got scolded on my method, she said the trick is to push the boudin out of the casing and then eat it that way. She was telling me the history of the store and about the “Boudin King”, a man named Ellis Cormier. Then she asked if I wanted some red beans and rice. Yep.
So now I’m eating beans and rice while she is talking about her grandma’s cooking and how they would make Koolaid pickles among other things. I had heard about Koolaid pickles a year or so ago and remember how I had put them into a song that I never finished. I made a quick note about that tune and then finished up my lunch and learn at Boudin King. I ended up having gumbo, boudin balls, boudin, red beans and rice, coleslaw, an iced tea, and really lovely company. It’s a special thing to share food with a person who is passionate about how it’s made and what it is. It’s double so when it’s a regional cuisine. It leave you full in more way than one. It’s odd to say, but I think I’ve become a better person over the years by trying new foods and soaking up some of the love and history that goes into the meals that people create. There is a magic in food that changes you.
So that afternoon, at a state park outside of New Orleans, I dusted off this old song and committed it to memory. I’ve played it out a bit, and it’s a fun song, but where it shines is to have a big fat stomp running through the sub. The same as spices in certain dishes, there are musical elements that make a song complete.
Song Structure
Verse: E - A - E - B7 - E - A - E - A - B7 - E
Voice Memos
No Notebook Page
November 2024
Lyrics
I like to spend my winters on the Mississippi
With some koolaid pickles and the delta blues under my feet
Ima shoot a little pool, shoot a little dice, shoot a little game at anything that looks nice
Leave my mark, they gonna remember me
All them pretty little misses along the Mississippi
Ain't nothing they like better than a music man
With an old tin sandwich who can honk it like I can
Get em all moving, get em all up, get em all sweating they can’t get enough
Dancing the daylight far into a memory
With all them pretty little misses along the Mississippi
If the sun come calling, tell him go away
I’ve still got some some tunes I’m trying to play
Throwing em on, throwing em back, throwing em one of my brand new tracks
They get to begging, and it’s a sight to see
With all them pretty little misses along the Mississippi
Just a matter of time till one pins me down
Caches her prize and parades me around
Pull to the left, pull to the right, pull what needs pulling and you do it all night
Go on and tie me down, I don’t need to be free
With all them pretty little misses along the Mississippi