It is my belief that a small bit of history at this point might be appropriate. When I started these columns a few months ago, it was related to the fact that I used to write such a column for a now defunct weekly. Friends would say “why don’t you write the column again?” So I decided that I would and just send them out to friends. Well it so happened that one of my friends sent the first one to Meta Minton at Villages-News.com.
She graciously published it and has been including them on a weekly basis ever since. However, since people other than old friends are now reading them, they do not have a background as to why I write the way I do. Most importantly, I refer to my beautiful wife, Ginny as “The Blonde in the house”. It is a nickname she has had which much precedes these columns. I could refer to her as BW (Beautiful Wife) or GC (Greatest Cook), but she prefers the one I use in the columns.
We both grew up in Western Pennsylvania so I may use colloquiums every so often that are prevalent there. There are some that I will strive not to use as they will just cause confusion such as “red up the house”. That simply means that one will straighten or clean up the house, particularly when someone is dropping by without much notice. I also will not mention that until I went to college, I used to say (as did everyone else I knew) “warsh” the clothes. We would also go to Warshington where the president lived.
That is enough about our great upbringing in Western Pennsylvania where everyone drank pop and had sodas with ice cream in them. My upbringing did have a part in an issue which needs to be discussed. That is the age old conflict of grits versus corn meal mush. I realize that this does not rank high on most lists of meaningful issues, but it is serious nevertheless.
My introduction to grits came the hard way. About 50 or so years ago, we made a trip from Pennsylvania, where we were living at the time, in the first car we had purchased new – a 1959 Nash Rambler with a continental tire kit. It was a few years old by this time, but still ran like a clock although it was a little late at times. In any case, we were on our way to Gulfport, Florida where my parents lived. We stopped for the night at a motel in South Carolina.
We went to a restaurant for breakfast the next morning where I ordered bacon and eggs. The next thing I knew I was delivered a plate with the eggs and bacon and this sloppy watery lumpy concoction running into the eggs. I said what the heck is that stuff, and was told in a Southern accent that they “were grits, Honey”. I poured the grits into my coffee cup, which was ok as I do not drink coffee. Not a grit has passed my mouth since then, and unless I go blind and can’t taste anything never will.
Since we have been in The Villages, we have “friends?” particularly a couple from North Carolina who try to tell us that what I was served was not how grits should be served, and that if I would eat a correctly prepared plate of grits that I would be ecstatic.
They say it with a straight face too. Not satisfied with that, they then attack a Western Pennsylvania institution, corn meal mush, and say it is the same thing. Anyone with a modicum of sense can observe the untruth of this statement.
Grits are a slimy looking white to start with whereas cornmeal mush is a bright yellow color that warms the cockles of your heart. This is especially so when it it is made into a loaf, sliced, rolled in flour and then fried to a crisp. It is put on your plate where you delightfully eat it with syrup and butter. You can even order it at Bob Evans (no relation) Restaurants. I might mention that the Italians make something similar and they call it polenta.
Everyone knows that Italians are great cooks. They would never make something out of a slimy, watery, lumpy concoction. Case made!
Barry Evans is a resident of The Villages.