Submitted by Chuck Owens, RGEA member
Around our house, Hard Tacks and turkey gravy go together like two old friends who’ve shared every Thanksgiving side by side—you can’t have one without the other. They’re a perfect pair, like Jimmy and Rosalynn Carter, Winston and Salem, the Outer and the Banks, and good old North Carolina and ACC basketball.
Mama Owens, my daddy’s mama, used to fry up Hard Tacks every Thanksgiving, Christmas and Easter. You always knew a turkey was roasting when that smell filled her kitchen. She’d stand in her apron, spatula in hand, turning each one ’til it was just the right shade of golden brown. It wasn’t just cooking—it was her way of saying, “We’re together again, thank the Lord.”
When my mama married daddy in 1944 and moved from Nashville, Tennessee, to Stantonsburg, North Carolina, she brought her Southern charm, but quickly learned that in the Owens family, holidays meant Hard Tacks. One of the first things she learned from her new mother-in-law was how to make them. The old cast-iron skillet became her teacher, and soon she was frying them up like she’d been born to it.
The recipe wasn’t written down—it was handed down, heart to heart, one fried piece of dough at a time. I’m blessed to be the current caretaker of that same skillet, a wonderful specimen of legacy cast iron, packed full of nearly a century of cooking stories and family love.
Hard Tacks have a long and rugged history—cowboys chewed on them, pioneers packed them, and Civil War soldiers carried them in their knapsacks. But ours are softer, homier and meant to be shared with gravy and laughter. They’ve traded the trail for the table, and they taste a whole lot better surrounded by family and grace.
These days, I’m the one keeping the tradition going. Whether I’m at home or frying them in Wilmington when the whole gang gathers, I still hear Mama Owens’ voice in my head telling me when to flip ‘em. And wouldn’t you know, it never fails—everybody still wants them first thing off the platter!
The best part is that the next generation has the knack, too. My daughter and daughter-in-law both make them now. I’ll never forget during those long, quiet Covid days when we couldn’t gather in person, we sat around our screens on Zoom for Thanksgiving dinner, and sure enough, I spotted Hard Tacks on their tables, too. That did my heart good. It felt like our family recipe had stretched right through the screen to keep us connected.
They may just be fried dough, but to us, Hard Tacks are the flavor of home. They’re what holidays feel like—warm, familiar and blessed. Every batch carries a bit of our story; the laughter of those who came before us, the love of those sitting beside us and the promise of those yet to come.
So, each holiday, when that dough hits the skillet and the kitchen fills with that heavenly smell, I can’t help but give thanks, to God for His goodness, to family for their love, and to the beautiful, lasting gift of tradition.
Ingredients:
4 cups self-rising flour
1 1/2 cups whole milk
Method:
1. Place flour into a large mixing bowl.
2. Make a well in the center and slowly pour in a part of the milk, incorporating the mixture into a sticky dough. Continue to pour in the milk until all of the flour and milk are well blended into a sticky and workable dough ball. Add more milk or flour as necessary until you have a workable dough.
3. Knead the dough for about a minute on a floured surface.
4. Break the dough into smaller sections for rolling.
5. Ensure that the surface and the dough ball are well-floured, Roll it out till the layer is between 1/16 to 1/8 of an inch (2-3 mm.).
6. Using a pizza wheel, cut the layer into strips about 1 1/2 to 2 inches wide (4-5 cm.). Then cut crosswise making pieces of dough (i.e. pastry) about 4 inches long (roughly 10 cm.).
7. Heat a 1/4 inch layer of lard or cooking oil on medium-to-medium high heat. Do not let the oil burn.
8. Just as it begins to shimmer, slowly lay in strips of the dough filling the pan. Some pieces will puff up. Don’t push it down. You’ll like them even better this way. Fry for about 2 minutes, checking for brownness. Flip when brown. Fry for about another minute.
9. Remove pieces, let drain and place onto a paper towel-covered baking pan or serving platter.
10. This a dynamic process of placing, flipping, and removing the completed Hard Tacks. Employ some assistance, preferably someone from the next generation who will carry on the tradition.
11. Seal the leftovers in a zip bag or sealable container. They will last for up to a week on the counter, but I’ve never had any last that long because they’re all eaten one way or another. These are better than crackers with homemade soup and far better than crackers or tortilla chips with homemade chili.