The above words are misleading, as I'm going to talk about ONE of my favorite dishes.
Our trip recently to Milford, PA, to get a car adjustment put us there at 7:30 in the morning, an unusual hour for retired folks. After the procedure was completed, we headed into town, a short mile away, and entered the best diner in the area. Searching the large menu for something besides French toast, we spied the word GRITS. Feeling a bit reckless, we order this Southern dish to test the mentality of the chef.
A single portion was enough for two, and just looking at the white lump told us to suspect real hominy-style grits. Butter on the side, no less. (Southern diners bathed their grits in butter!) Ah, what a delight! You'd thought we were in gourmet heaven! Despite the fact that we prefer sour cream with our grits (a taste sensation bar none)we rolled the mixture across our tongues in bliss. We congratulated the owner in having a chef who knew his grits.
As Roy Blount, Jr. said in "One Fell Soup":
When my mind's unsettled, when I don't feel spruce,
When my nerves get frazzled, when my flesh gets loose--
What knits
Me back together's grits.......
Now let's sing your own tune to these final words of his:
True Grits
More grits,
Fish, grits, and collards,
Life is good where grits are swallered.
Grits
Sits
Right.
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2 comments:
Grits in Milford? I gotta go! Just wanted to let you know I do stop by your blog often and enjoy reading it.
Grits...argh.
I've lived in the south 10+ years and tried grits for the first time recently. Like sweet tea they are definetly an acquired taste.
Glad you found some Grits up north
Now if I could just find a decent bakery down here without having to drive 20 minutes I'd be happy.
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