Back in June and July when the rabbit families were mowing down my okra plants, I wasn't remembering what always happens: the okra continue to grow to the point where the rabbits can't reach them. Then they're mine! As you can see above, they're 8 to 9 feet tall now.
Come August, the pods must be picked daily or they grow into woody stems suitable for painting a red Santa suit and white beard on, but not for eating. I cut those whoppers off and drop them on the ground. Then, next spring, I'll have a batch of seedlings ready to transplant. They'd volunteer to germinate all over your garden if you let them.
We had a pan-full of fried okra for lunch today. I cook them the way Mama always does (with the omission of bacon drippings). She "accidentally" lets them brown a bit much so some are extra crispy and crunchy--no breading. My friend Judith calls this sauteing--sounds like "so taying."
