A Little Bit of Speed - Spicy Hush Puppies

The hill sprawled out in front of us. Poet and Flower couldn't wait. We spent the weekend snow tubing. It was their first snowy adventure. We haven't had any snow this season, a dusting here and there, but no more. So we set out, curious to see what snow tubing in Indiana really means. We drove and followed signs to the snow tubing hill, north of the city and not too far that the kids were tired of being in the car. We found ourselves surrounded by horse farms and fields. Brown, snowless fields, to be exact. And then, suddenly, this white hill in a sea of blue came up in front of us—this lone snow-covered hill.

The kids jumped out of the car. They checked snow pants, snow boots, gloves, hats - all covered. We headed down to a little house where a kid, not much older than G's students, handed out tags and some basic directions. It was super simple, grab a snow tube and head to the top of the hill. Watch out for other snow tubers, don't go before they are done exiting the lane. And hold on tight.

The tags had a little zip tie, and you attached it to your coat zipper. The tags brought back memories of skiing. During college, skiing was a big part of weekends living in Boston. Every weekend friends would go skiing in New Hampshire or Vermont, an easy few-hour drive and a great weekend away. They would come home with lift tickets attached to their jackets. Little badges of honor that signaled that they had been skiing, They would leave their tickets on for everyone to know. I was always envious. I tried my hand at skiing a few times. I managed to make it down the bunny hill, but not much more. I ended up in the snow in a tangled heap of skis and poles, waiting to be pulled up and doing everything to save my dignity. I watched as skier after skier came whooshing down the hill with aplomb and grace and then happily did it over and over.

And so Poet and Flower raced to get to the top of the hill. You could either pull your tube up or take the "lift," not quite a ski lift, but a little conveyor belt that pulled you in the tube slowly and surely up to the top. We got in line and anxiously awaited our turn. As we looked out over the hill, it seemed like an enormous distance. Poet and Flower each picked a parent to race down with the first run. We held on tight to the other's tube, and with a gentle push, off we went. The wind in our faces, racing down a hill and enjoying the speed.

The look of pure joy on Poet's face was like no other. And then we were at the bottom, excited to go again. It was better than any bunny hill I had ever come down. We went back up the hill and raced down, over and over. Soon the kids were doing it on their own, excited about their new found independence. When we were done, we had two exhausted but thoroughly happy kids, ready to go home and keel over.

Snow tubing is not skiing. It was so much more—a chance to enjoy the snow, the outdoors, and just simply going really fast.

Spicy Hush Puppies

I love these crispy crunch fritters. Made with cornmeal, they are light and airy. A little chili pepper gives them a kick.

You can leave it out the sugar if you want it to be spicy and not sweet.

I like serving them with tartar sauce. G likes ketchup or they are great just on their own.

Serves 4

• 1 cup cornmeal
• 3/4 teaspoon salt
• 1 teaspoon baking powder
• 3/4 teaspoon sugar (optional)
• 1 egg
• 1/2 cup milk
• 1/2 teaspoon red chili flakes or 1 green chili minced
• 1/4 cup onion (finely minced)
• Neutral oil for frying

1. In a small bowl, lIghtly beat the egg with the milk.

2. In a medium bowl, combine the cornmeal, salt, baking powder, and sugar. Add the egg mixture and stir until just combined.

3. Heat the oil in a frypan over medium high heat. When the oil is shimmering, drop the batter by the tablespoon into the oil. Fry until golden, about 2 minutes a side.

4. Serve warm.