Southern Life

SOUTHERN LIFE

I know there have been many writings about life in the South. The land of my nativity. Maybe not one like this one, though. Rank this one with the kindly perturbed and mildly defensive.

Would you go to China...or the South Sea Islands...or Egypt...or Paris...or...(well, you get the point) and insist that they serve bagels and lox...or bean burritos...or grits? Would you go to Mexico and pout when they wouldn’t serve you poi? I, for one, would not show up in Boston and demand they make room on their menus alongside clam chowder and baked beans for real Southern Brunswick stew and pork barbecue.

And I certainly wouldn’t move to The Bronx and even SUGGEST that they tone down their accent. Heck, it’s one good reason to visit New York! Each part of this wonderful country of ours sports a way of speech that is unlike any other..the South included. (I’ve had my share of requests to “say something” when traveling out of my region just so that the Southernly challenged can hear my twang...and believe me, it’s a doozy! And I wouldn’t trade it for all the voice coaching in Hollywood!)

Which brings me to another mild beef...why does Hollywood seem to, in large part, place people in obviously Southern-bent roles who aren’t even remotely Southern, and then ask them to speak as if they were? I know quite a few Southern actors who would jump at those parts if only given the chance! And speak quite naturally. No training. No coaching. Then on the other hand you have folks that are definitely Southern who are, fortunately, placed in those parts and even in parts that don’t necessarily call for a Southerner. Strange.

I think that TV and movies have affected the children and teens of the South so much that many of them think they have to change their accent in order to be respected. Pshaw! I want to approach some of them and say, “Sugah, I know your parents and your grandparents, and you don’t talk like them! You get your Southern britches back on and speak like you was raised!”

Now you may think, “Surely she doesn’t talk like that!” Well, of course I do! It’s just plain fun! That’s not to say that I don’t know proper English. It was one of my best classes in school and one that I made some of my best grades in. ‘Cept my freshman year of high school, but let’s not go there. Bad year. It fouled up a lot of my life. Moving on...

Okay, so let’s wrap this up. What I’d really like to say is this: If you want to move down here and live with us, come on, honey! The more the merrier! Test my Southern hospitality! But don’t come here asking that I take up your ways! Incorporate your foods into my menu! Start talking your way! Adapt! I’d have to if I moved to your area! Would you start serving sweet tea just for me? Would you change your accent just to accommodate me? Would you who may not have a hospitable bone in your body all of a sudden become the quintessential host/hostess just for me? Bet not. And I wouldn’t ask you to.

Oh, and should you find yourself thinking that I’m on a high horse let me just tell you this:

I have visited New York City, and I love it. The people, the crowds, the food, the subway (yes, the subway, except after a Yankees game! Yikes! Never again!)

I have visited San Francisco, and I love it. Fisherman’s Wharf, the food, the sourdough bread, the trolleys on the hilly streets, Chinatown.

I have visited Los Angeles, and I love it. The Walk of Fame, Grauman’s Chinese Theatre and the footprints and handprints, the food, the weather, the landscape, the sights.

I have visited Las Vegas, and I love it. The beautiful brightly colored lights, the (cheap) food, the fountains, the shows, the desert.

I have visited Arizona, and I love it. The desert, Hoover Dam, the Colorado River, the Grand Canyon.

And I’ve been to lots more of this country, and there’s very little I didn’t love about it; but it’s always good to come back to The Deep South. The land I love. The land I want to keep pure. Well, it’s a little late for that, but I hope you’ll help me preserve what’s left of my corner of the country. It’s the only one like it. Thanks for listening. Y’all have a nice day, ya heah?

Zaxby's Fries

I know this has absolutely no importance at all in the grand scheme of things, but sometimes you just have to do a little something fun, ya know? And this time the fun thing to do is talk about fries. Whether you call them Freedom Fries or French Fries doesn't matter. For the sake of the "fun" theme, let's just call them "fries." Heck, most folks do anyway.

Kudos to Zaxby's (that is a weird use of three weird letters of the alphabet right there, I don't care who ya are) for serving good old-fashioned crinkle cuts! They are without a doubt my absolute favorite. I have no idea why...they just are. And I will admit that I like them better a little limp and greasy, not crunchy. Again, I have no idea why. I CAN tell you, though, why some other varieties are NOT my favorite.

Take the shoestring variety...please. They certainly live up to their name minus the limpness of a shoestring. I suppose they are more like a shoestring that was dunked in starch and left to dry. Stiff. Hard. Cold in seconds. More like long, skinny potato chips. If I want potato chips, I won't ask for fries...I'll ask for potato chips. The English have properly named these. I.E.--Fish and chips

Then there's cottage fries...and it depends on whose cottage (or restaurant) is serving them. Sometimes they're long and thick, sometimes round and thick...or thin. I don't trust a menu that says "cottage fries" for that very reason...you can't really know what to expect them to look like. I have had some success in the past with cottage fries, but who really wants to take the chance, ya know?

Of course, one can't write a review on fries if one doesn't mention steak fries. You can usually trust them to be long, a bit thick, and not overdone. I can go with these if you're not going to offer me crinkle cuts.

Since my palate is a bit sensitive to highly seasoned foods (don't offer to take me to Taco Bell or anywhere else Latin flavored) or even unhighly seasoned foods...just mildly seasoned foods...I am very skeptical when the menu mentions "seasoned fries." Seasoned? With what? Basil? Dill? Rosemary? No. It usually means CAYENNE PEPPER or some other tiny red sprinkled thing, paprika notwithstanding. My tongue cringes at the mention of anyone's chili except mine. My nose runs when I eat chili that so much as PASSED BY the spice rack on the way to my table.

If you have a new contraption...maybe from Ron Popeil...that slices, dices, and juliennes, I will be nice and try the fries that you have made from a real spud in your real kitchen with your real hands with your real new contraption and your real grease...even though it's not a crinkle cut. You get points because it was a real potato and you really cooked it. Now if your new contraption has a blade that makes crinkle cuts, we are true friends!

If I have offended you by dissing your favorite fry or have committed a faux pas by failing to mention another fry variety, well, I'm sorry. You will just have to forgive me and move on. As I said earlier, this was just for fun. Gimme a break.

It would be fun (again the theme today is "fun") if you let me know of some places other than Zaxby's that serve crinkle cuts. Okay...the floor is yours!