Fried Chicken Etiquette
A Southern Butterflies Story
“Ladies, if
we can come to order and get started.”
As the monarch of the Unadilla chapter of the Southern Butterflies ladies club, Sadie attempted to bring the buzz
of women to order. Many of them had been
a part of her life since childhood. “Is
there any report on Hattie?”
“She’s
recovering nicely from her surgery.” A
voice from the back of the room announced.
“That she
is. I stopped by today and she was
enjoying a spam sandwich.” Another voice
interjected.
“Anyone
that knows Hattie can rest assure if she’s eating, she’s feeling better.” Mavis
followed up with her signature aside to any statement that she felt needed more
emphasis for the subject. “God, love her
soul.”
“Is there
any more illness or concerns that anyone would like to share?’
“Lord, we
gonna be here all night discussing everyone’s ailments.” Baxley whispered to her sister sitting next
to her. She started mimicking, “Ya’ll
keep my cousin Bertha in ya’lls prayers.
Her daughter from her third marriage stubbed her big toe the other
day. They are sure it’s gonna lose its
nail.”
Janie
swatted at her sister while trying to stifle a giggle. “Behave yourself. You don’t want momma giving you an evil eye
from the head table.”
Sadie could
tell by her daughters’ conduct they were up to something. There was no doubt Baxley was the
instigator. She cut a quick glance at
her eldest, Baxley. “Okay. Last month Elvina Ward and Zolena Hayberry
traveled to the state conference up in Atlanta.
Many of you know it was held at the Peachtree Plaza hotel on Peachtree
Street. They will be traveling next
month to the annual conference in Richmond, Virginia. Our northern sisters will be joining us this
year.” Sadie turned to the two ladies
seated to her left. “Zolena, would you
like to give us a report?”
Zolena
placed her napkin on the table before standing.
“We had a lovely time. The hotel
was nice and the rooms were clean.
Everyone was excited about this year’s theme, Sacrificing Ourselves for Those Less Fortunate, because so many are
struggling with the economy, we are asked to focus on those in our communities
that have fallen on hard times. Elvina
and I are looking forward to traveling to Richmond next month.” Zolena returned back to her seat. She and Elvina exchanged a glance of
agreement that some details of their trip were best left unsaid.
Elvina
inwardly shuddered at the memory of the moment of sheer embarrassment. She knew if any of the gossips in the group
smelled the hint of scandal, they’d climb over each other to be the first to
blab. Lord knows they were still chewing
on her getting arrested for stealing Tootsie Harper’s daylilies and irises.
She’d never
had been one to try and impress others, except when it came to representing the
Southern Butterflies. Elvina
unconsciously touched the enameled pin representing the symbol of ambassador, a
Tiger Swallow tail. She’d worked hard
and it had been a moment of pride when the regional Monarch attached the yellow
and blacked stripped replica of the butterfly with its blue dots along its wings;
edge to her jacket. In one fleeting
moment over a piece of fried chicken, Elvina was positive she’d brought shame
to all the ambassadors before her and her chapter of Southern Butterflies.
The night
of the banquet dinner, she and Zolena had been seated at one of the front
tables, close to the head table. They were joined by other SB’s from Macon,
Savannah, and Atlanta. Elvina had wanted
to impress those ladies. She wanted to prove
that even from the small town of Unadilla,
Georgia with the population of three thousand, one blinking caution light and
home of a three time World Champion Barbecuer, that she was just as well versed
in etiquette, table and social manners.
All had gone
well through the first two courses of the evening’s meal. She’d maneuvered the soup without dropping
the first drop on the ‘girls’, eat her salad without looking like a cow
chewing a wad of cud, and was confident the main course would go just as smoothly.
Her confidence evaporated at the sight of the plate being sat in front of her. A big, fat, juicy, golden crusted, fried
chicken breast took center stage accompanied with French green beans, creamy
mashed potatoes, and slices of fried green tomatoes. Instincts guided her to pick up that breast
and bite into it. Her taste buds watered
with anticipations of the salty, crunch of the exterior complimented with the
smooth texture of the white meat. Elvina
hesitated looking at the other ladies at the table with their knives and forks
skillfully poised to take a cut out of their pieces of chicken.
The saying,
‘when in Rome do as the Romans’,
swirled in Elvina’s head. She picked up
her knife and fork. The prongs of the
fork sunk into the fleshy part of the chicken, missing any bone. With even pressure, Elvina began to cut into
the breast. Resistance was met against
the knife’s blade as it hit against bone. In attempt to manipulate the piece of
chicken that began to dance on her plate, pushing her French cut green beans
into her mash potatoes that threaten to spill onto the linen table cloth, her
knife freed the stubborn meat from the bone.
Elvina
watched the piece of chicken become airborne with a flight path toward the head
table.
Horrified at the attention of her
mishap could have created was compounded by the movement of the Queen Monarch
herself from her seat.
The well
polished and coiffed woman stood from her seat and walked to the front of the
table. Her black patent leather heels
stopped just inches from the piece of chicken.
For a heart pounding moment Elvina watched the woman stoop down. She was positive that the Queen Monarch was
going to pick-up the wayward piece of meat and return it back to its rightful
owner. Instead, she began to speak.
“Ya’ll from the Unadilla chapter.
You must be Elvina and Zolena?”
Elvina
could not bring herself to make eye contact or speak. Not only had she made a spectacle of herself,
but she had brought shame and disgrace to her chapter. Zolena came to her friend’s rescue. “Yes ma’am we are.”
“Sadie has
nothing but great things to say about the two of. I just wanted to come down and say
hello.” The Queen Monarch stood. “Sadie and I go back a ways. Make sure you tell her I said hi.” The woman returned to her seat.
Zolena
leaned over and whispered in her friend’s ear.
“I believe the proper etiquette for fried chicken is to use your
fingers.” With a wink, she picked up the
breast of chicken from her plate and took a big bite from its center.
_______________________________________
Creed of the
Southern Butterflies Ladies Club
May our vision always be clear and focused on the path ahead, accepting
all the colors of humanity.
May we seek the Son for guidance and bask in the warmth of his love
while showing compassion to those around us.
May we listen not with our ears, but our hearts to those in need.
May our wings continue to give us flight in our endeavor to spread
goodwill to those near and far.
This is our oath and creed as Monarchs, American Ladies, and all the
beautiful species that make us Southern Butterflies.
________________________
Author: Tori Bailey