Free Antiques Fruitcake by Barbara Allan Page B

wrought-iron fence, in keeping with the restored Victorian redbrick train depot.
    In past years, the city council, understanding that Serenity’s biggest asset was the Mississippi River, lavished money into enhancing the half-mile riverfront by adding a state-of-the-art playground, restroom facilities, a new boathouse (along with improved slips), and an assortment of beautiful trees, flower beds, and general landscaping. Plus ample parking for residents and visitors alike.
    Even so, one had to get up at the crack of dawn to snag a parking spot for the summer swap meet, which drew folks from a hundred miles around. But Mother had come up with an ingenious plan for when we were finished shopping: she had entered the Caddy in the antiques car show, which was piggybacking the swap meet. When the time came to head back to the shop, laden with purchases, having walked the entire length of the park, corns aching (hers), feet swollen (mine), our ride would be right there, waiting for us.
    We parked among the other classic cars and vintage relics, made a little small talk with event organizer Mr. Blackwood, and headed off toward the swap meet area. The day was glorious, the temperature in the mid-seventies, humidity low, sun shining brightly in a clear blue sky, with just enough breeze to dry any bead of sweat.
    Summer in the Midwest brings all kinds of weather, which Mother and I like to describe as cities.
    â€œBrandy, what kind of weather have we out there?” she would ask.
    â€œChicago,” I might reply, meaning windy. Or “Houston,” hot and humid. Or “Seattle,” rainy.
    Today was “San Diego.” Which, if you’ve ever been to that wonderful city, means perfect .
    But this was Iowa, so blink and you might find yourself in another “city”. . . .
    We had a dual purpose today in attending the swap meet. As we sought out interesting items for the shop, Phil Dean was going to shoot additional footage of us browsing the vendors, the last of his B-roll wish list.
    I’m sure he hoped Mother, Serenity’s favorite diva, would do something outrageous for the camera; and I felt confident she wouldn’t disappoint.
    You may be wondering what my role on the proposed TV show was. Well, basically, to be her straight man. The Crosby to her Hope. The Martin to her Lewis. Only I didn’t sing as well as either. Maybe I was Abbott to her Costello.
    Anyway, Mother was asking, “Where were we to met Phil?”
    â€œIn front of the fried butter stand.”
    Okay, so sometimes we don’t eat so healthy in the Midwest. Considering this delicacy was created at the Iowa State Fair—famous since 1911 for its annual life-size cow sculptures fashioned from 600 pounds of pure creamery butter—isn’t fried butter the next logical step? And before you turn up your nose at the sweet concoction, you should try it. Maybe your mouth will turn up (as in a smile).
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    Fried Butter
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    1 stick butter, chilled
funnel cake batter mix
1 tsp. cinnamon
vegetable oil
honey glaze
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    Prepare cake batter as instructed, adding cinnamon. Cover chilled butter with batter. Heat vegetable oil to 375–400 degrees. Fry battered-butter in hot oil 1 to 1 1/2 minutes. Remove to paper plate to drain, then drizzle with honey.
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    ( WARNING : Fried Butter is not for everyone, as some serious, even fatal, side effects have been reported. These include—but are not limited to—dizziness, numbness of extremities, nausea, increased sweating, blurred vision, third-degree burns, shortness of breath, stroke and/or heart failure. Do not consume if you have a cholesterol level over 200, are allergic to butter, have Hepatitis B, Glaucoma, Lupus, or have traveled to parts of the country where certain fungal infections are common.)
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    Enjoy!
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    We found Phil, toting his Sony HD camera, next to the long line of Fried Butter enthusiasts. In his early forties, the former