Bring on the corn bread and the collards, but nix the black eyed peas and the ham hocks. I've tried fixing black eyed peas every which way I can find, but not one of them can disguise the taste of raw iron and dirt. My husband is not fond of them, either; so I usually fix either great northerns or pintos. And I don't think I've ever had ham hocks in my life, though I do remember them being on the table (and quickly disappearing) at my grandparent's house when I was young. They didn't call them ham hocks, though. They called them pig knuckles and considered them to be quite a delicacy. Hmmm. I guess I just didn't get the black eyed pea and pig knuckle genes.
