Archives for August 2009

After the unfortunate green sauce incident last Thursday night, Melanie and I decided to go in search of some less BLAZING, BURN-OFF-YOUR-TONGUE fare when we left the hotel for a late lunch on Friday. Since our buddy Travis grew up in North Carolina and is forever talking about Bojangle’s fried chicken – and since we don’t have Bojangle’s in our respective cities – we thought we’d give it a try.

We left our hotel and drove just a little ways down the road to the Bojangle’s. We were planning to eat inside, but before we got out of the car, I sensed a still, strong voice deep down in my heart: What if they don’t serve Coke products? I mean, I was craving a Diet Coke like nobody’s business, and quite frankly I was in no mood to settle for a Diet Pepsi. IT’S NOWHERE NEAR THE SAME. Melanie offered to swing by the drive-thru menu so that we could check out the Bojangle’s drink offerings, and sure enough, we saw a Pepsi logo.

You can imagine our disappointment. So we sent Travis a text to let him know about the SHOCKING Bojangle’s turn of events because THESE THINGS ARE IMPORTANT TO US.

To wit, a transcript.

Me: Mel and I were about to eat lunch at Bojangle’s but we saw they serve Pepsi products. That’s a dealbreaker, ladies.

T: You r MAKING A MISTAKE.

And then, a few minutes later:

T: SNAP OUT OF IT AND RECEIVE A BLESSING.

But Melanie and I were stiff-necked. Prideful about the absence of Coke products. So do you know where we went for lunch instead?

On The Border.

Yes, that’s right: more Mexican food. It’s a sickness, y’all. We might as well wear signs around our neck that say, POINT US IN THE DIRECTION OF “CHEESE” BECAUSE WE WOULD LIKE TO GO TO THERE.

(By the way, I’m not even halfway finished with this post and I’ve already referenced “30 Rock” twice.)

(Mama here might need to turn off the TV for a month or nine.)

Anyway, we went to On The Border for lunch, and it was actually pretty tasty. Their Diet Coke was perfection (just the right fizz, plenty of syrup, nice ice-to-beverage ratio), and we had some sort of avocado-Ranch dip that was delicious. All in all it was a perfectly lovely chain restaurant experience. It didn’t have the same regional charm that Bojangle’s would have had, of course, but it DID have Coke products. And sometimes you just have to pick a restaurant based on your carbonated beverage principles.

Even still, thoughts of the fried chicken we hadn’t eaten haunted us. Travis’ words haunted us. WHAT IF WE HAD MISSED A BLESSING?

Early Saturday morning Mel and I decided that once all of our sessions were over that night, we’d pick up Bojangle’s in the drive-thru and make alternate beverage arrangements to alleviate the sting of the Pepsi. We COULD NOT WAIT to have us some hot chicken for supper. And when we ran into our conference roomie Annie later in the afternoon, we asked if she was interested in sharing All The Chicken with us. She was totally game.

By 6:30 the three of us were walking side by side out of the hotel and into the parking lot, striding confidently toward our fried chicken destiny. I felt sort of like an astronaut getting ready to board a space shuttle – only without the bulky suit and the heavy helmet. And without the space shuttle. And without, you know, space. So basically I guess I really felt like a girl who was walking out of a suburban Charlotte hotel to go get some fried chicken with her friends. But trust me: that whole space shuttle analogy would’ve been a ton of fun if I could’ve pulled it off.

Annie drove us down to the Bojangle’s, and while I don’t know what came over the three of us in that drive-thru, I do know that suddenly there was no amount of fried chicken and sides to satisfy our hunger. I’d sort of anticipated that we’d get a few 2-piece dinners and call it a day, but instead we ordered some sort of family tailgate pack that came with 12 pieces of chicken (THIS WAS FOR THREE PEOPLE, MIND YOU) and three sides. And biscuits.

While we were waiting on our tailgating feast, we felt it was only right and proper to bring the person who had inspired our meal up-to-speed. So we sent Travis another text: We are at the Bojangles getting our supper. And just as we pulled onto the main road and headed back to the hotel, we got a reply: Lord bless y’all. Be sure to get – along w/ your chicken, the fries and the boberry biscuit.

Now listen. We had twelve pieces of chicken with mashed potatoes, pinto beans and green beans. But no fries. No boberry biscuits. And while we had no idea what a boberry biscuit was, we knew that Travis wouldn’t lead us astray. So we turned around and went right back to that Bojangle’s and right back through that drive-thru and we ordered us some boberry biscuits, oh yes we did. And also: a couple of orders of fries.

Apparently we were operating under the assumption that we needed to be prepared in the event that four or five other people decided to stop by room 815 for an impromptu evening buffet.

Once we hauled all of our Bojangle’s fare back to our hotel room, we settled in and ATE US SOME CHICKEN. We loved it. I still prefer Popeye’s chicken to Bojangle’s because of the crust, but the texture of the actual chicken was really similar (can you tell I’ve given this some thought?). I loved the Cajun spices that gave the chicken a little bit of a kick but not too much heat. Big score on the pinto beans, too – and I’ve never met a mashed potato that I didn’t like.

However, I cannot speak to the green beans because I didn’t eat any. Obviously I exercised remarkable food-related restraint by not cluttering my very white and beige food choices with any of that pesky green.

And then. THEN. We opened THE BOBERRY BISCUITS.

Angels sang. Stars fell. Crowds cheered. Grown men wept.

Y’all. I had no idea that putting a glaze on a biscuit was an option. I had no idea that putting blueberries in a biscuit was an option. But I’ll tell you what: now that I know, there’s no turning back. Because in all my biscuit-eating days – and I confess to you in all humility that I am no stranger to some BISCUIT-EATING DAYS – I have never encountered a biscuit that so perfectly balanced the savory and the sweet. It was a revelation. It was a special biscuit provision.

It was a BoBerry Blessing.

And I will never be the same.

Amen.