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The Iowa Homemaker

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By a strange quirk of nature I grew up eating, and relishing things like fried chicken with gobs of thick brown gravey, creamed-potatoes with big hunks of butter melting in the middle and running clown the sides, steaks smothered with heaps and heaps of delectable onions, fresh spring corn-on-the-cob with grains just bursting with golden goodness, fist-size biscuits oozing· huge drops of crystal-clear honey, and deep cobblers jammed with apples, peaches, and strawberries. Like most southern boys, I gobbled eaten' like that till I reckon I just took it for granted- till I met Sarah.

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