BACK TO BIRMINGHAM
Later today I fly southbound for journey number two in what should be many jaunts to the heart of Old Dixie.
Summer in Alabama. Hmmm, should be rather sticky, I'd imagine.
Anyway, this time I'll be there (a) for two days, not just one, and (b) I'll be traveling for one of those days with only another associate (though still senior to me), and not with the high-ranking partner as I did last time. And why do I inform you of this? Because maybe, just maybe, I'll be able to exert a bit more influence and get our asses to some sort of bona fide southern eatery for some old-fashioned local vittles. I felt the pain inflicted by last month's comments, chiding me for not dining on the down-home grub.
Anyone who knows me should be certain the choice of chi-chi over grea-sy was not my choice. While at home I'll avoid food cooked in bacon fat if need be, but on the road . . . ? Nah, gimme the real deal.
(Not to mention, the awesome steak I ended up throwing down last time wasn't exactly the height of health anyhow. But man, it was good.)
So there you have it. Behind whatever work comes my way, and trying not to melt in the southern summer swelter and scorch, my goal is to dine authentically. Until the inevitable trip I make down Alabamy way on my own, I'm still not optimistic. But I am hopeful.
We'll see. I'll report upon my return. Ciao, y'all.
Summer in Alabama. Hmmm, should be rather sticky, I'd imagine.
Anyway, this time I'll be there (a) for two days, not just one, and (b) I'll be traveling for one of those days with only another associate (though still senior to me), and not with the high-ranking partner as I did last time. And why do I inform you of this? Because maybe, just maybe, I'll be able to exert a bit more influence and get our asses to some sort of bona fide southern eatery for some old-fashioned local vittles. I felt the pain inflicted by last month's comments, chiding me for not dining on the down-home grub.
Anyone who knows me should be certain the choice of chi-chi over grea-sy was not my choice. While at home I'll avoid food cooked in bacon fat if need be, but on the road . . . ? Nah, gimme the real deal.
(Not to mention, the awesome steak I ended up throwing down last time wasn't exactly the height of health anyhow. But man, it was good.)
So there you have it. Behind whatever work comes my way, and trying not to melt in the southern summer swelter and scorch, my goal is to dine authentically. Until the inevitable trip I make down Alabamy way on my own, I'm still not optimistic. But I am hopeful.
We'll see. I'll report upon my return. Ciao, y'all.
Labels: I'm Hungry Now, Pass The Grits And Corn Bread, Throw Some Collard Greens My Way As Well
posted by Mike at 7:26 AM
6 Comments:
Mike, I feel your pain. Whenever I travel, for fun or the job, I love to try food that's native to that part of the country. And it always pisses me off if someone else doesn't want to try it because of their delicate sensibilities. You can never go wrong with barbeque in the South, nor can you go wrong with chicken fried steak smothered in creamy white gravy.
Okay, Mike, since you apparently don’t intend to keep kosher, here are some things to look for:
Fried okra
Fried green tomatoes
Fresh field peas
Butter beans
Corn bread dressing
Corn bread, preferably of the pone rather than the pan variety
Corn bread fried—as good as life gets
Pulled pork barbeque, of the white rather than red variety
Mustard green with a dash of pepper sauce
Diced tomatoes and onions in vinegar (as a relish to top field peas)
Slow stewed pork chops
Fried catfish
Cole slaw
Deviled eggs (all good things aren’t southern)
Irish potatoes
Fresh green onion (just eat the bulb)
Pecan pie, blackberry pie, fried peach or apple tarts (preferably a la mode)
When you go back in September or October you can have the real “fruit of the gods-staff of life-reason to live”—BOILED PEANUTS.
And be sure to tell them “WAR EAGLE.”
Glad your label indicates that you are respectful of grits, too.
I grew up in Southern Indiana. We thought it was the "midwest" there, but really, it was the northern part of the south.
And I like me some grits.
Noone I've met in Milwaukee can stand them, though. Of course, they've never tried proper ones.
They're only cooked "right" in the south.
Can hardly wait to hear if you are successful in exerting your influence on the dining choices...
Greasy spoon is a way of life, but let me tell you, it's a killer for those not used to it on a regular basis. Avoid the Red Eye gravy if you want to live.
Godspeed Mike, and don't fill up on hush puppies.
They just had an article in the local paper about the best places in Boston to get Furied chicken.
When I first moved up here twenty years ago I looked high and low and failed to find what I wanted. I bought a little fry-o-later to make my own. Years after that I discovered a great recipe for FC where one doesn't fry, but rather bakes the chicken after letting it steep in a marinade of buttermilk, sesame oil, mustard, olive oil, garlic and onions. Yeah, it's finger lickin' good.
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