Food + People = Culture

If you will, take a moment to realize I have mass quantities of vodka in my body.  OK.  Now let's begin. 

I believe the greatest thing any culture has to offer is it's food.  Everyone eats food, everyone but models anyway.  I bet you can tell me more about food of different cultures than anything else.  Tell me about Mexican food, Japanese food, Italian food, Greek food, Jamaican food...I'm sure you can name at least one very popular thing from each.  My favorite foods are usually that of my own culture.  The Southern Belle meets Average Redneck.  That's my food of choice.  I will tell you, though, that people who live this far north (CT) are completely unable to recreate the flavors of the south. 

Don't get me wrong, Connecticut does have some delicious food to offer, especially sea food and tiny restaurants in hole-in-the-wall settings that you never noticed until someone pointed it out.  As long as they don't try to do it like we southerners do, everything's fine.  Sweet tea does not exist up here; that stuff served here doesn't even count as real.  Ketchup is not an acceptable barbecue sauce.  Yes, potato salad does have mustard.  I tried to eat potato salad I ordered from a "barbecue" restaurant and I swear to you, all it had in it was potato, mayo, and maybe a little pepper.  That's crap.

Another thing that pains me is the lack of really good Mexican food.  I'm sorry, Taco Bell, but you're not real.  Back home, there are delicious places everywhere.  El Bracero's and La Potosina...om nom nom.

And last on my list of drunken food rants, is the whopper of all time.  IHOP pales in comparison and Huddle House's didn't get invited to the party either.  Instead of explaining all this to you.  Let me just show you this letter I got the other day.

For the golden delicious magic pillows they call waffles, and the manna of the gods we mere mortals named hash browns, I would walk five hundred miles then I would walk five hundred more.  Most people from here have never heard of Waffle House.  I have been gracing the booth seating of this crone-run establishment since I was a wee child.  I have eaten there during drunken stupors, dates with my husband, and even Christmas Day lunch.  Alas, the closest Waffle House is 233 miles from my poor deprived town.  And before anyone dares tell me IHOP is better or that it is the original, no, it isn't.  Waffle House started up in 1955, IHOP started in 1958, and Huddle House started in 1964. 

Hell...I wish I were sober.  I'm starting to get hungry.  The things I would do for some Taco John's food right now...So. Much. Better. Than Taco Bell.  I'm rambling.  Bye.

Things Not Created Equally

There are a great many things that are considered in the same classification by definition.  However, it is in the details these things differ.  I believe some of these details are so distinct that the objects/ideas/beliefs shouldn't even share a category.
 Let's take tea for example.  There is nothing that soothes the savage beast any better than a fresh glass of sweetened tea.  And it can't be too sweet or it gets so nasty that you may find it served in an Asian restaurant or a McDrive-Thru.  Gross, yeah?  If you don't add ice, fake a British accent while you drink it and use honey in place of sugar.  Let's not forget, good tea is strong and hot poured directly over a FULL glass of ice.  Not always will you follow the same recipe and get the same result.  It may be less than or equal to the desired effect.  See?

Another thing that is in the same category but really shouldn't be...addictions.  Some people are alcoholics, drug addicts, repeat sex offenders, gamblers, kleptomaniacs, pyromaniacs, and (like myself) bibliophiles.  Yep, that's right.  I'm addicted to the collecting and reading of books.  It is an addiction.  I have no withdrawals, I break no laws, I neglect no priorities or responsibilities, but I'm magnetically drawn to books to the point I will buy a book before I buy new shoes or go to a movie.  I save money just to get new bookshelves so I have room for new books.  When I have an empty shelf, I have a MIGHTY NEED to fill it.  I feel as though my room is lacking a soul until the shelf is filled.  Vicious cycles begin when I buy one book more than my shelf can hold.

If you walked in early to an AA or NA meeting, and saw someone indulging in their addiction, you may have significant concern for their well being.  No one wants to stand by and witness someone drinking alcohol like water or putting drugs into their body.  If you walk into a Bibliophiles Anonymous meeting a few minutes early and saw someone curled in a cozy corner with a book the reaction would be very different.  Maybe an "oh, that's nice to see a human without a cell phone glued to their face" would be the expected reaction.  See.

Unbelievable Pain + Super Gross = Pink Eye

When you have a cold or other mild illness, people may joke and say "stay away from me" or "you better not get me sick" all the while wearing a smile on their faces.  However, I am here to tell you pink eye is the new leprosy.  Everyone looks at you with pained faces, ask you if you know your eye is blood shot, and some even get teary eyed themselves.  Even gross things like bugs and hobos look at you as though you need a bag over your head.  While it isn't usually a good idea to "go pirate," here on my third day of hell that is pink eye, rocking a pirate patch doesn't seem like such a horrible idea.  I look like I have been crying for three days straight.  Oh, wait...I have.

Nothing goes right when you have pink eye.  I'm afraid to go near my child for fear of contaminating her, but my "neglect" is making her sad.  Vicious cycles of guilt, pain, and runny eyes and nose plague my every minute.  I also have the flu.   I don't remember how, but I must have made God very angry.

Small Wonders

I have a weird history with doctors.  I once went in for my annual lady check up, and once my exam was over I was told I needed to have a series of tests done on my thyroid.  This morning, I went in for what I assumed was a sinus infection and pink eye, but before my visit was over they had me hooked up to an EKG machine. 

Well, crazy doctor's office visit aside I decided to do some good southern remedies with comfort food and a good long bath.  I started a pot roast around 8 this morning, and followed my plan of a bath.  The bath didn't happen at all.  Something about finding a huge hairy spider in your tub just takes the appeal right down the drain.  Darn it, I still had that pot roast to look forward to.  Five o'clock this evening, I pulled the lid off the crock pot to reveal the most glorious pot roast I had ever made, I grabbed a fork and tasted.

five minutes later, I was on the phone with my mother.  "Momma, I have the flu and pink eye.  I'm in the middle of my monthly lady week, and I'm pretty sure I'm about to get fired from my crappy job.  The worst part though...I can't taste my pot roast."  She laughed.

While over the next two hours my sinuses got worse, my eye started hurting so bad I couldn't open it, my headache throbbed, and my throat stayed swollen.  However, I was forgiven whatever I did to deserve all that.  I sat down between my daughter and husband at the table with my plateful of comfort food, I drank some sweetened iced tea with lemon, and took a bite of my roast.  It was delicious.

Moral:  Enjoy what you can, when you can.  Even if it means eating with one eye closed.