In my ongoing campaign to singlehandedly sustain the dairy and pork industries, I have spent a considerable part of my afternoon grating cheese and frying bacon (not for us…for something at church tomorrow). And as I was cooking pound-o-bacon number two a few minutes ago, I determined that right now my kitchen feels decidedly like a truckstop…that I just need to pile my hair up on my head, have a name tag embossed with my name, and forevermore refer to D. and Alex as either “sugar” or “darlin’.”
Really, all that’s missing is a neon sign.
And, you know, truckers.
But other than that it’s just like a truck stop.
I guess you’ll have to take my word for it.
A little earlier I contemplated calculating the fat content of everything I’m preparing – it’s a little bit of trivia I’d like to remember, kind of like the whole 32 sticks of butter thing. But as soon as I figured that I’d fried 120 fat grams worth of bacon, and grated 148 fat grams worth of cheese, and I hadn’t even approached the egg and butter territory yet, I decided that I’d just stop counting right then and there, lest I be seized with chest pains simply from looking at numbers that high.
But you know, who wants to show up for a big celebratory meal to find soynuts, tofu, sprouts and dried fruit on the table?
And yes, I know there’s a little something called A Happy Medium, but we don’t really go for that so much in the South. I mean, I know in my own family we tend to vacillate between two extremes: wrapping pretzels in lettuce and calling it a meal, or combining butter with sausage and bacon, wrapping it in dough, sticking it in a deep fryer, and then spreading cream cheese on top.
(Please don’t be alarmed. I totally made up that last thing. We would never, ever do that. Because cream cheese by itself is for Yankees. We Southerners would use mayonnaise.)
It only occurred to me last week that I do talk about food a lot on my blog, and a large part of that is because Southerners talk about food a lot in real life. A couple of years ago Alex and I went to visit Lea Margaret and her family, and for an entire evening LM and I went through her cookbooks, and her mama’s recipe box, and we talked about who ate what when and how much they enjoyed it.
And it’s not enough, at least down here, to mention a preference for the generic form of a food and leave it at that. Saying, “I like chocolate” is, quite simply, unacceptable.
But if you said, “Hey. Do y’all remember that restaurant that used to be on the corner across from the old post office? It was in that building that used to have a guitar shop but then they just picked up and left town all of a sudden and so Mr. Davis went in there and put in a soda fountain? And then he got REAL busy because his wife would make homemade chicken and dumplins every Friday for dinner and he had so much business that he opened a full-fledged restaurant? Well, that’s where I had my first piece of homemade chocolate pie, and I’d cut off my right arm and four of my toes if I could have just one. more. bite.”
So food. It means something to us down here.
And that being said, I’d better get back to frying that bacon. There are about 50 people who are expecting me to feed them in the morning and elevate their cholesterol counts ever-so-slightly.
I’d hate to let them down.
I love your frequent food-as-topic posts. It pains me to admit this, but I really, uhm, well, don’t like to cook. (She squeezes her eyes and hunches into her shoulders.) BUT, I was raised by a fabulous Southern cook who was raised by a whole clan of fabulous Southern cooks — so I APPRECIATE it very much and love to eat it and WISH I had The Touch. So I live vicariously through your posts.
Your truckstop reference reminds me of a time in high school when I went with friends to the local Pit Grill. Stephanie ordered a slice of pie, which was cool when she got it. She asked the waitress if she could pop it in the microwave. The waitress said, with hand planted on jutting hip, “Honey, we don’t got a microwave, but I can slap it on the grill for ya.” So she did. Put the piece of pie on the grill, right next to a sizzling hamburger patty. Finger lickin’ good.
I LOVE your blog! Don’t change a single slice of it!
Wonderful post. I’m a southern girl too and can totally appreciate this.
I can so relate to every single word I just read! I guess it is a Southern thing. We southerners love.to.eat! I am not much of a cook, but I LOVE to bake! So from one southern girl to another…bring on the bacon!
Any good Baptist knows you can’t have a meeting without a feeding.
Now for some reason I’m craving bacon.
I would stop by Sophie’s truck stop anytime!! I’ll be right over:)!
Boomama, I needed a laugh today, in a really big way. Your blog was the one thing I turned to. Never disappointed. Thanks,cyber-friend:)
We had breakfast for dinner tonight… eggs and bacon – YUM!
Do you drink sweet tea? I can’t stand sugar in tea. That’s the best thing about living on the west coast, no one serves tea sweetened. :)
Hello Boomama,
Ahhhh yes Southerners sure can cook. I love to cook. I was never taught but have such a love for it. Our youth from church love my cookin as well. I love your posts you make me lol. Keep the great writing comming. Be Blessed
I grew up in a family where every occasion has some type of food involved… funerals, wedding, reunions, graduations, baptisms, etc…. and we wonder why there are weight issues in the family! HA HA
Funny you should blog about food tonight, BooMama. I just got back from a Women’s Missionary Union meeting at church, and we had Spaghetti Chicken, Chicken Pot Pie, Macaroni and Cheese, Green Tossed Salad with garden fresh tomatoes, buttered bread and blueberry muffins and banana nut muffins, ALL HOMEMADE. We take turns doing the meal, and there’s usually 15-20 of us. It was good stuff, too. :-)
I made a beef roast with potatoes baked in with it, and gravy made from the juices in the pan for lunch. Mmmmmm, good! I think it’s virtually impossible for a Southerner to talk without any reference to food. Just ain’t possible. :-)
And can I come eat with you tomorrow? It sounds like my kind of get-together. ;-)
Boo!
I’ve awarded you this week’s Golden Croc Award. Send me your email so I can send you your trophy, and be sure to check out the post about you on my blog.
Jules
http://www.everydaymommy.typepad.com
YOu just crack me up! I love the part where you were explaining where you had your first piece of pie!! We had some friends that would talk like that and I absolutely loved it!!
I have only lived in the south one year (as of tomorrow!) and I’m learning a lot about how important food is around here. Not great for someone trying to lose 40 pounds, but I will admit that when it comes to splurging, this is the best place to do it!
Oh, and it’s ‘Budda’ not ‘Butter’. :)
I think my cholesterol count goes up just reading your posts (and Diane’s). Toni cracked me up – I grew up in SE Texas and I can just see that waitress slapping that piece of pie on the grill right next to the burger. Too funny. Both of you.
Ummm, mayo. When I was little I would just eat mayo on white bread. Of course, that may be why I am not so “little” anymore!
Not to gross y’all out or anything, but in elementary school I used to dip my fries in mayo. No wonder I was categorized as “husky” every time we went clothes shopping for school. All this bacon talk is making me VERY hungry.