In honor of Friday, I thought we'd post a favorite recipe.  Nothing like Fried Frog Leg Friday!!



16 frog legs skinned and cleaned
1/2 cup flour
3 beaten eggs
1/2 tsp black pepper
1 cup of PEANUT OIL!  ONLY PEANUT OIL!  GOT IT?
1/4 cup corn meal
1/2 cup milk
1 tsp onion powder
1/2 tsp cayenne pepper
Soul Food Seasoning (Yes it's real.  Look near the spiced and such at your grocery store.)


Rinse your frog legs well and then pat them dry.  Sprinkle the Soul Food Seasoning to taste all over the legs.  In a separate glass bowl mix the eggs and milk.  In another bowl, combine the flour, cornmeal, onion powder, cayenne, and black pepper.  You can add white pepper if you like.

Take the Soul'ed up frog legs and lightly coat them with flour.  Then coat them with the egg and milk mix.  Then SLOWLY drag the frog legs through the flour/cornmeal pepper mixture until they are well coated. 

Now simply fry them up!!

I like to serve mine with purple onions that have been slowed cooked in the oven wrapped in tin foil and slathered in butter and soul food seasoning.  Bake the onions on about 375 for around 45 minutes.  The onion should be very tender when served.

As we say round here, "Dang that's fine frog!"

- JD

Payne's 20 Gauge

     In the Southern Tradition men are often the teachers and educators of young boys in the ways of
hunting and handling firearms.  I remember as a child my Paw Paw handing me a single shot 20 gauge and looking at me with eyes that said, “You are ready.”  Here I was a nine year old boy being entrusted with my Paw Paw’s favorite firearm.  He leaned down, loaded a shell, and began instructing me in the proper handling of a “shoot gun” as he called them.  I remember the way the gun felt, the smell of grease and gas on my Paw Paw’s hands, and the gentle touch of his bear like hand on my back.  It is a memory that is locked away and will forever bring a smile and a tear.  However as wonderful as the feeling of this “first” was for me, I never thought how he felt.  That is until I bought my son Payne his very own “shoot gun.”



     Payne had developed an interest in archery and shooting.  He would talk on and on about different
firearms and which was better in his opinion.  He was finally ready to learn.  The day had arrived that
I had been anticipating for 11 years.  I decided that he was ready for his own “shoot gun.”  I began
browsing around and after looking at the local stores decided on a gun.  It was a pump Remington 870 Express 20 gauge.  I decided on the synthetic stock because I felt he could hold it a little easier. 
It was a thing of beauty!  I bought it and a box of bird shot.  There was a lump in my throat forming that I couldn’t explain.  The “shoot gun” was to be a Christmas present, so I went home and after thoroughly examining the firearm (and cleaning it just for fun), it was wrapped it and placed it under the tree.



     Christmas morning finally arrived and amidst all the excitement I could think of only one thing –
Payne opening the package that contained his very own “shoot gun.”  He must have instinctually known what it was because he saved it for last increasing my excitement tenfold.  When he finally got to the present I could see the light in his eyes.  He untangled the mass of ribbon and wrapping paper on the present and his face broadened in a grin that only a young boy has; half mischief and half innocence.  He checked to ensure the “shoot gun” was unloaded and then hoisted it to his shoulder lining his eye down the barrel.  He looked at me and eagerly asked, “When can we shoot it?”  I grabbed the box of birdshot and said, “Right now!”  We both ran through the house and out the back down to the wooded area on the back side of the yard.  After a 20 minute discourse on proper handling, ensuring a clear target with nothing behind, and another lesson on proper handling of a loaded firearm, Payne was ready.  I watched as he loaded three shells, slid the pump back and shouldered the “shoot gun.”  He found his target which was an old blue bucket that my dogs had chewed on, snapped off the safety, and pulled the trigger!  After the thunder issued from the barrel, he snapped the safety back on and looked up at me.The smile on his face was one I will always remember.  Then it hit me.  The lump in my throat grew too large to ignore and a tear rolled down my cheek.  I knew how my Paw Paw felt.  It was a “first” for me that I will always keep entrapped in my heart.  Payne saw the tear rolling and asked why I was crying.  I responded with, “I’m not crying.  Just have some dirt in my eye.” 



     We spent the next hour emptying the box of shells, cleaning up our mess and after clearing the
“shoot gun,” we headed inside.  With Payne walking at my side I said, “You know, you’re a pretty good shot.”  Payne stopped walking and said, “Of course I am.  I’m your son.”   I had to hide my eyes from the dust making them water.



     To all the fathers and grandfathers who are the guardians and educators of young men, you are true Southern Hooks.


- JD

Choppy in Protected Waters Part 2

When I left off, the fearless crew of the Gumbo was trying to out run a summer storm that had gotten very ugly very quickly.  We passed under Hathaway bridge and made it about a mile up when it hit! The storm had outrun and overcome us and ice cold rain was dumping all over us. I looked at Jack and by the look on his face I figured, "Okay. This isn't so bad. It'll dump rain and get a little rough out here but it will pass." I turned back to the bow of the boat and did what in the coastal states is known as "hunkering down."
That's when I felt something smack me square on the top of my head. It felt like an egg sinker weight had been thrown at me so I turned to Jack. I expected to see him giggling after having thrown the small projectile. I did not see him giggling. Instead I saw a robin's egg sized piece of ice hurtling towards my nose! As I ducked the missile I heard Jack scream through the rain, "HAIL!" Then the sky unloaded on us.  Through the June ice storm I saw Jack motion me to get the anchor ready. He then pointed to the bridge we came under and yelled, "We'll anchor up there and ride this out!" I did as my stalwart captain instructed. Jack nosed Gumbo back towards the bridge and I readied the anchor. I glanced at the deck and saw all the ice collecting and thought, "Now I know how all those shrimp in the shrimp cocktail felt."
We made it back to the bridge and once deeply under cover I hoisted the anchor over the bow. The ice curtain now looked like beaded curtains on either side of the bridge. Safety was assured.  WRONG! The water in the bay was more than choppy. It was writhing up and down violently. That's when I caught sight of the anchor line. It was stretched iron rod tight, however we were moving out of our safe haven! Within minutes we had eased back out into the bay dragging the anchor from its underwater perch. I turned my gaze to Captain Jack and realized he was smiling like the cat in the canary cage. He had given up and decided that as long as we stayed afloat, we would somehow survive the machine gunning hail. Giving up, I sat down in the bow of the boat curling myself into as small of a target as possible.
After 25 minutes of being pummeled, the hail storm subsided. The rain was gone. The sky turned a lead color and the wind turned cold. Jack stood and said we were fished out for the day and were heading back to the marina. There was a wall of fog rolling in that we would have to navigate through, but after the beating we had just survived that wasn't even an issue.  We finally limped back into the marina and eased into our boat slip. As I began stowing the rods and the anchor and line, I heard Jack say, "The difference between an ordeal and an adventure is attitude." I stopped. I stood up straight. I looked at Captain Jack in disbelief. He was smiling ear to ear. We had just been beaten and battered, water logged and worn out, and returned fish less. I suppose he could read the anguish on my face. As he walked past me and stepped onto the dock, he slugged me in the arm and said, "Besides, the fish needed a break anyway."
- JD

Choppy in Protected Waters Part 1

With the summer getting its stride and hurricane season cutting its teeth, I'm reminded of the days I spent fishing on the Gulf of Mexico with one of my "brothers." While not blood by birth brothers, we became blood brothers by experiences. We share a love of the salt water and the fish that swim within. That's where this account has its roots. And while I'm not one to be long winded (yeah right), in order to give this account fully I feel it necessary to relate it in 2 parts.




I met Jack while living in Panama City Beach. We both worked in the same building and forged a fast friendship after having been introduced. We had that instant bond that fisherman share and spent as much time on the water as we did off it seems. There wasn't one chance to fish that we didn't take advantage of. No matter the weather; no matter the time. We simply fished. Jack owned an 18 foot center console Cobia that we fished from. To me it was a yacht! The craft was named Gumbo as an homage to his Louisiana roots. It was a fine fishing vessel that never failed us.
As I stated, Jack and I fished every chance we got.




Our ritual was that we would meet up at the marina and as we readied all the rods and reels we would listen to the marine weather report. On this occasion we were performing our ritual and the weather report came across the airwaves. The announcer gave the condition of the seas outside the bay and I was only half paying attention as usual. Jack was the Captain and I was simply the deck hand. I let him worry about the weather. I had to worry with rods, reels, lines, cigar minnows and rigs. But for some reason my ears heard the announcers last words, "Choppy in protected waters." I smirked and thought, "Yeah, yeah, yeah. Who cares. I'm fishing today!" I saw no concern on Jack's face and that was good enough for me.




As we threw off the lines and eased out of the slip Jack said calmly, "It's too rough outside the bay so we'll just fish in today." Bay fishing was fine with me. I was still fishing after all. I nodded my understanding and began changing out the rigs we would be using. Jack turned Gumbo into the bay and we headed to our secret honey hole across the bay.
As we motored out I looked over my shoulder towards the pass and I noticed gray clouds over the gulf. I pointed at them and Jack acknowledged them. I could tell he was considering our fishing options and returning to the marina was NOT one of them. Jack idled down the motor and informed me that we would be fishing further up the bay than usual. His thinking was that if the clouds caught us, we'd be far enough in the bay that the wind and rain wouldn't be as bad. Sounded good to me as long as I got to wet a hook. That's where things started to get a little shaky.




As we eased up they bay it became VERY apparent we were not going to outrun the storm. What was a lightly colored gray sky was now blackened like charcoal. We could see sheets of rain falling onto the water behind us. As Jack started to throttle up we could see the clouds throttling up faster. We were not going to outrun this summer storm. Then it got bad.


Okay folks. There is part 1. Part 2 is to follow!!!


- JD

Southerner's Tea

Time for another drink courtesy of the Captain's Kid!

This drink recipe had its roots in by gone years. Combining a love of GOOD rum and sweet tea, this drink is best had while sitting on the porch watching the sun dip down for its nightly rest.




Southerner's Tea

GOOD rum 1 oz
Fill a glass with sweet tea and top off with lemonade!

Now... Sit on the porch holding your girl's hand and watch the sun go down!

- JD

Guest Blog: Charlie, pt 5

Wrapping it all up here today!

Now, having left off with quite the haul from our gulf trip, including this solid 9 lb redfish, and super excited to be catching some dinner, my wife Aubrianne and I couldn't be happier planning out how we will add fishing back into our lives.  We certainly plan on making it a regular part of life, but whats really important, and my whole point of writing this whole series was this.

The years have long gone by fast enough, and so much time has gone by that I've missed simple things in life, such as fishing, just as my dad and uncle did when they were the age I am now.  Maybe this is just one of the wonderful things about being thirty-something; you get to do cool stuff like go fishing more.  Or, maybe you grow to learn how to create websites based around fishing and southern lifestyle culture, and realize you arn't doing enough of that yourself.

Whatever it is, my conclusion is this.  A truly Southern thing that lives in us all, is our desire and ability to hunt/fish and gather our own food.  And even if its just one tomato plant growing in a 5 gallon roller pot, we can't deny who we are. Phil Robertson, of Duck Commander and the TV show Duck Dynasty, often says "I'm a low tech man, living in a high tech world".  I'm definitly not absent of technology, but maybe, my world needs to be a little less high tech, and more low tech, like the time great men such as our fathers grew up in.

Time to grab a pole friends.  Fathers day is upon us in only 7 days, and my 5 year old son Cayden has a Spiderman Zebco waiting on a worm.

-Charlie Veuleman

Guest Blog: Charlie, part 4

I'm going to try and wrap this up in 5 parts guys.  Hey, who doesn't like a good story?

So, now that I had realized what Jason was doing here with the Bite me bar, we got to work brainstorming, and before long (ten minutes probably) we had come up with Southern Hooks.  The 'brand' was born, and you are watching it grow before your very eyes. 

But, and this is where I take the story back to my side for the rest of the blog series, I was already personally growing back into this Southern Hooks thing, before it was even born. 

My beautiful wife and I had been slowly adopting a bit of a homesteading mentality lately, and had often talked about our own farm, our own garden (growing now!), and even pond to grow fish out of.  We daydreamed of eating fish and meat that we caught or killed, as opposed to the stuff we buy from the store.  Our mere 1/2 acre "farm" is doing well today, with three chickens, a concrete pond, and the garden mentioned earlier.  One of our friends often goes saltwater fishing, and after hearing Jason talk about fishing enough, I figured, I need to take this woman fishing, asap.  She had expressed much intrest in a saltwater trip, so I set it up, super secret style, for months.  However, excitement got the best of me, and I had to tell her about a week before the trip.  We grabbed some fishing shirts from a local store (gotta look the part!), and down to the gulf we headed.

I mean, hey, if I'm going to help Jason grow this culture brand, I need to get my behind back into the way of life!  And we did.  We hit the Gulf hard that Monday Morning, just a month ago from the publishing of this blogpost.  Almost every day since, we've talked about how we can't wait to go back again.

Wait till you see the pics in tomorrow mornings post!

Guest Blog: Charlie, part 3

Welcome back!

So, where did I leave off? Oh yeah, hungry for fish, never goes fishing. Yup, thats me.

Well, I ended up having a career change over those early years, and ended up in the nursing profession. Nothing makes it hard to fish, hunt, or maintain any resemblence of those former years endeavors like nursing school and the work thereafter.  But, despite the decreasing personal time, due to that work, and hell, just raising a family and trying to be an entreprenuer myself, I recently had an interesting turn of events.  It seems, maybe my prioritizing was off a little. I'll need to do a little back story for a second though, so bear with me.

Nursing is where I met up with www.facebook.com/southernhooks own Jason Dickens.  I'm not quite sure I meant for this edition of the guest blog to go in the background direction it is angling (if you will), but since we are here, I might as well elaborate on that part of the story.

Jason is the epitome of what I know as the charming coastal Mississippi college boy.  And the first day I met him, he mentioned fishing or some sort of water related commentary in one liners, no less than ten times in that one hour.  We grew close working together, and he's my brother in more than one way for sure.  During his time, he had expressed on more than a dozen occasions, his interest in making some tee shirts related to his own personal establishment, aka the Bite Me Bar, his own back porch and boat launch.  I've been involved in the screen printing industry for a while, and growing my business heavily over the last two years. I figured hey, why the heck not.  But, in my own business growth, I could never see where a tee shirt or two was going to do anything other than generate more than a little party money for one weekend worth of BBQ and gas money for a lake ride or three. But then it hit me.  This whole thing he wants to do, isn't about a tee shirt, its about a 'brand' if you will.  A culture, a mentality. This thing is deep.  Its more than a funny graphic or saying.  What Jason wanted, was for everyone to come to the bite me bar.  Not the physical place, no, the realm, the place in his heart if you will.  The bite me bar is just a part in the life of that very southern person.  Really, he was personally cultivating a lifestyle if you will.

Now, heres where it all ties in together:

(Tomorrow guys! 7AM!)

Guest Blog: Charlie, part 2

Thanks for coming back to read part 2!  My ramblings can run long, so lets get started...

The years went by, and I do remember a scattered trip here and there, especially the couple to the area's Lock & Dam site, where my uncle had started fishing often.  I learned about gar here.  There isn't much to talk about in regards to gar.  Its a prehistoric creature from the paleolithic era or something, and some people eat it.

Flash forward a few years to Shreveport in 2004, which was met with many changes, as previously mentioned.  But in the hustle and bustle of it all, and the devastating loss of my father that year, made me really cherish the moments I did get to enjoy, even more. 

Caught up in the status quo of work work work party party party of a guy in his 20's living in the area, I rarely got time to enjoy the things I was exposed to by my dad while in my 10's.  No longer squirrel hunting with the old guys, I did try my hand at deer hunting.  I learned how to fire a compound bow with archery-meet precision, and purchased a climbing stand, feeders, and enough gear and stinky lures and clothes wafers, that surely I'd have a solid season.  Not so much.  I might be afraid of plummeting to my death from that climbing stand.  And 3 am, is no time to be fumbling through the woods when you are this age!

I really never got to fish much at that time, but I do remember showing up at my uncle Jerry's place one morning, without invite, and getting to go on an impromptu fishing outting.  We caught enough bream that cleaning and table prepping was going to be a long afternoon.  But he took me.  And it was a blast. I was older now than the other times I'd recalled 'tagging' along with my dad and his friends.  I was actually doing something.  Making decisions about where the line goes, speed of reeling, etc.  I was actively engaged.  Its the classic give a man a fish vs teach a man to fish scenario.

That was probably the last time I recall specifically fishing.  Almost a decade ago.  Insane isn't it.  Well, whats even crazier, is I love to eat fish.  I mean, a lot. But I noticed, I never actually ate much fish.

Well, the story gets better, but this post got long.  I'll shut it down here.  See ya'll tomorrow morning at 7 for the rest of the story.

Fathers Day Gift Giving Inspiration

Looking for some ideas for this Fathers Day? You might have waited a little long, but no worries, Southern Hooks has you covered.

A survey of a few liars, I mean, fishermen, we have talked to this week, confirmed these ideas:

-Guided Saltwater Fishing trip (~$600)
-Fresh Fishing Shirt (~$35)
-Oakleys Flak Jacket or Half-Jacket's, w Polarized Lenses (~$150) (~$250 if custom from website)
-Fresh Tacklebox, soft sided (~$75)
-Old Orleans 10 Year Spiced & Aged Rum (~$90) (http://www.drinkupny.com/Old_New_Orleans_10_p/s0762.htm)
-Homemade Black Berry Pie (Black Berrys Are In Season Now!) (~$10)
-Custom Coffee Mug, Starbucks (~$15), you print and add the photos to the inside sleeve

So, theres a few for you.  Any other ideas? Feel free to add to the list in the comments below, or on the Facebook Page. 

-SouthernHooks

Guest Blog: Charlie, part 1

Guest Blog: Charlie

Ok Ok Ok.  So, I had some stuff I wanted to put up on the blog, but was hesitant, for many reasons.  See, many of the people I associate with and am around, appear MUCH more southern than I am.  I mean, I grew up on the outskirts of a small town, and on the lake bank of Cane 'River' in Natchitoches LA (its a lake, believe it or not).  During the late spring and summer I'd pick up pecans at the request of my dad, until I had no less than a grocery sack full.  And October brought squirell hunts and subsequent gumbo cookings over heated games of Cadalliac with the more 'mature' gentlemen of our unoffical family club. Whats more southern than that, right?

But my move to the bigger, faster city of Shreveport Louisiana in the Spring of 2004 placed me far enough from those simple times, that they were almost forgotten.  Almost.

Now, my dad, Charles Sr, at one point in his life, was an advid sport, hobby, and dinnerplate fisherman.  And my uncle has always been as well, from what I've been told and witnessed with my own eyes. But in the era that I grew up in, regardless of living on the Cane River Lake, my dad's fishing days were almost extinct.  I do remember though, my first catch ever, a catfish off of our old party barge that we kept lasso'd on the bank there behind our house.  It was purely accidental, as I'm sure you could imagine. I flopped out the line on a ragged looking zebco reel, and while not watching the bobber, I suddenly had a tight line to deal with.  I didn't even know what to do, so I handed it to my dad, who I'm sure was pretty happy to see that we were catching anything at all, and he likely set the hook (I had no idea at the time why I handed him the pole or what he did with it, I'm purely speculating) and he reeled the ugly ol cat in a bit, then handed it back to me.  I remember vividly, doing....almost nothing to help the situation.  My job became "hold this net over the edge", as he took the rod back and talked me through what he was doing.  We had a great looking river monster there, probably a whopping 2 or 100 pounds.  Somewhere in that range.

Years past by, and we moved off of the lake and back towards town, as my parents seemed to be working more and more, and enjoying the lake less and less.  Maybe it was my sister and I just being so engaged in being teens and young adults, that sorta thing is expensive for a parent, you know.  But those days of squirell camp and casting lines, was slowly slipping away then, even before I made the move to the metropolis of an hour north.

(Part 2 tomorrow)

Speckled Trout Fishing 201

Okay I had so much fun with the first Spec blog, I wanted to do another!! Here goes!!!
1. For really big Specs, use really big Minnows!!! By minnows I mean things like a MirrOLure MirrOMinnow.



2. In warmer weather, use a faster retrieve.
3. In colder water, use a slower retrieve.
4. In warmer water, use top water lures.
5. If all you are catching is small trout, you're in a small school. Change spots.
6. Never, ever, ever, ever tell anyone where you're catching big Specs!!!!!!!!!
7. Invite me over for the fish fry!!
- JD

Speckled Trout Fishing 101

It's that time of year where I make my summer run to the salt water. I get the chance to relax with my family, get some salt back in my blood and to put some speckled trout in my freezer. Having said that, I thought I'd share some basic tips on catching Speckled Trout or Specs as we call them.
With the advent of Gulp's soft plastic shrimp I have all but stopped using live shrimp. Rigging the Gulp shrimp is easy! I use two methods with a lot of success.
The first is to simply rig the shrimp up on a red, black or yellow jig head. The weight of the jig head should match any current near you. That means from a 1/4 oz down to a 1/8 oz jig head. Cast out the line and let the shrimp settle down. Then every so often raise your rod tip to make the shrimp "jump" in the water. Take up the slack and let the shrimp ride back down to the water. The jig head should be tied to about 2 feet of sturdy monofilament line (I use 20 to 30 pound line depending on the current) and the mono should be attached to a swivel that your braided line is tied to.




The second tactic is to use a popping cork. Place the cork on the braid then again tie a swivel. Add an egg weight then attach a barrel swivel. From that tie about 3 feet of mono. Attach a simple hook to the line and rig the shrimp on that. No weight required. The idea is to let the cork hit the water and to allow the free floating shrimp to swim behind it. About every 20 secs, pop the cork in the water and let it rest.




The color of shrimp I generally use is white, although I've had success on the "penny" colored as well. Captain Jack once told me, "You can fish any color you want as long as its white." What a wise man!
Fill the cooler, heat up the peanut oil and let's fry up some specs.
- JD

Early Summer Fishing Tip

With Summer coming on strong, we decided it was time for an early summer Bass fishing tip or two.
During the summer time my go to cause I know they're going to hit them is the time tested...plastic worm!
I use a worm 5 to 7 inches long. I've found that most 3 to 6 pound bass will smoke them! I use mostly green pumpkin seed or watermelon pepper colors. However in stained water I switch to June Bug. And if the water is dark along with really gray clouds, I use a black (called grape when I was a kid) worm with a red or chartreuse tail.
Take said worm and Texas rig it. That means throw a bullet sinker on the line then add a hook with a bend to hold the worm and you're ready.
Cast the worm out and once it hits the bottom...let it sit!!!! Only every now and then shake the rod, lift it up a little, reel in a little line and then let the worm sit some more!! The only two rules are fish it slowly and let it lay still for a while.
Now if you're fishing a Senko worm you can forego the bullet weight as the Senko is heavy enough to still get where you want it to and dance around on the fall.
The great thing about fishing with worms is there are fewer missed hook ups because the hook has less bait to go through once you set the hook. And it's so easy to do that even you're kids are going to be able to master the humble plastic worm.
Now... Go wet a hook!!
- JD