Grits–The Oatmeal of the South
I was born in Fort Ann, New York. I moved to Florida when I was 4, and lived in Alabama for a few years too before mom brought us back to new York in 1979. Up here, you ate oatmeal, down there we ate grits.
Grits are better than oatmeal people. Grits just taste better, and you can doctor them up with more things.
I was very excited to see that Quaker was selling real grits in Price Chopper recently. I snagged a box, and a dozen eggs and a pound of bacon and some Frank’s Red Hot and ran home like a happy man.
I then fired up the small saucepan and the two frying pans and went to work like Bobby Flave on acid.
The eggs were over easy, the bacon was cripsy and the grits were done. I then went into the fridge, grabbed my small tub of Smart Balance margarine and threw a big spoon of it on the grits. Once the margarine had melted, I hit them with two firm shakes of salt and then completed my masterpice by popping about 5 shakes of Frank’s Red Hot on those bad boys.
I then sat, closed my eyes popped open a can of Dr. Pepper and ate. I was back in Alabama for about 10 minutes.
I then looked out the window and saw the snow, and grabbed my shovel.
It was fun while it lasted.
Am I the only person north of the Mason-Dixon line that likes grits?