whosrbud

you note that there are "supermarkets and farmers markets--really nice ones" and admittedly, things are getting a lot better than when i relocated to the area some 20 years ago. grocery shopping--especially looking for high-end or imported foods was a sometimes hysterical adventure in frustration. i won't divulge the name of the supermarket chain but when i did my first major shopping, i started down the long row of meat. first came pork and there was plenty of that...then came chicken and i can't remember seeing so much chicken in one store...next was beef, not a huge selection--especially in the loin area--but serviceable...the came...BACON?...HOT DOGS? BOLOGNA?... END OF AISLE! whaaa? where was the lamb? no veal? no salumi? i pressed the button to speak to a meatcutter in the back. he turned off the bandsaw and came over to where i was standing. this was our conversation: "May I help you?" "Yes, thanks, I can't seem to find any lamb" "Well, we don't have any." "How about veal...do you have any veal?" "Nope, No veal." "Why don't you have any lamb or veal in the store?" "Oh, those are foreign meats. We'd never be able to sell anything foreign like that"! hmmm...this was a lot worse than i thought. what else was i not going to find? among the many...Vernor's Ginger Ale, Dunkin' Donuts, Dr. Brown's Cream Soda, any fish that swam north of the Outer Banks, Squirt, bagels, lettuce other than iceburg, peppers other than green bell, and virtually anything ethnic. this was starting to get pretty dismal. my folks came to visit us in our little southern bungalow and i wanted to put on the dog a little for them. i had already ruled out grits, greens, livermush, and hog jowls. it finally worked out to be a relatively safe mom&pop meal-- featuring Tournedos Rossini for the entree. it took consi- derable effort to convince the butcher that 'tournedos' were not those giant killer storms that devoured trailer parks in a single gulp, and at least we had four nice looking steaks if nothing else worked out. next stop, fois gras. naturally they didn't have any fois gras--nor had anyone in the store every heard of it. no problem, i'll just check the yellow pages for gourmet shops. someone is bound to carry some. a thorough search produced nothing. i asked at work and they all looked at me as if i had ordered anaconda. the dinner was in two days and i was getting nowhere in my search. i rechecked the yellow pages and found a listing for "The Gourmette Shoppe"(!) i guess somehow they missed putting "Ye Olde" in front of it. "Hello, Gourmette Shoppe". "Do you by chance carry fois gras?" "Sure do." "Excellent. You were my last hope." "How much you going to need? I've got the 5 pound and the 10 pound" jeeze. 5 pound of fois gras...how much is that going to set me back? "I'll...I guess...I'll take the five pound". "OK...5 pounds it is. Did you want the wine...or cheddar?" dumfounded and not believing my ears, i said, "Wine or cheddar? I've never heard of such a thing. Are you sure?" "Sure I'm sure...you wanted a cheeseball, right?" _______________________________________ sorry for spinning such lengthy yarns but yes, you could indeed eat very well here these days. and if not well, at the very least, a lot! thanks for the info about the bookstores. consider another one sold. -michael

as a transplanted yankee living here in the heart of gastronomic darkness, i've been fascinated by your observations of standard southern fare most eat, but wouldn't admit to. eating at and observing others at a Golden Corral is a Fellini-esque experience which should not be missed. i'd see people emerge from one of the many stations with a plate piled 8" high with fried chicken and think--there's no way anybody could eat all that--until 20 minutes later the mountain had been reduced to clean-picked carcasses. moreover, the poulletholic had already moved on to the roast beef carving station in preparation for his second course. and for $5.99! your comments on eating at Chik-Fil-A were absolutely spot-on. back in my salad days, i produced several commercials for Chik-Fil-A (pre video, pre TV) and the experience equalled or surpassed any measure of weirdness imaginable. mind you, this was in the early '70's so it was still permissible to discriminate in hiring policies. if you weren't a member of a fairly large religion which starts with "C"...you needn't apply. which also helped explain why all Chik-Fil-A's were closed on Sunday. it was always weird to go into a mall's restaurant area on Sunday and see everything lit up but the Chik-Fil-A. as the very last word in good taste, the owners-always dressed in white from head to toe, (Colonel Sanders wannabes perhaps?) as a salute to in house marketing, they had purchased a fleet of all-white Lincoln Continentals...each of which had a giant six-foot tall plastic chicken affixed to the roof. very subtle. that not withstanding, it was impossible to deny how good their sandwiches were. to this day i still don't know how they were able to keep the breasts sooo moist. along with Bojangles biscuits and well made cheese grits, it was one of the few food items i really missed when i returned to the northlands. speaking of book signings(!) i've been trying to remember what bookstores there are in the Hickory/Highpoint area. i couldn't come up with any and was wondering if your travels will extend to the charlotte area...(Borderbooks, Barnes & Noble, Little Professor) that we admirers of Mrs. Fat Guy might purchase an autographed copy? as usual, thank you for your delightful and delectable writings--wherever you may happen to be. -michael

cheeseandchocolate, your dinner sounded quite divine--especially the fresh pesto. out of nothing but pure curiosity, i put your imprimatur through the Babel translator. once in a great while it makes a plausible translation. this was not one of those 'whiles'. it translated it as... You etes the strong link, Miss with the rod; you etes the strong link! even with the 'etes' being 'are'...and the woman with the loaf of bread, i still can't make sense of it. kindly, please, illuminate me. -thanks, michael

pretending for the moment that they had "really" run out of red wine on opening night, wouldn't the wine steward or at least rocco call over to Union Pacific--a very short walk--and have an emergency supply sent over? or...would that also be a violation of the liquor laws? in a related matter, wasn't the waiter awfully lucky that there was an NBC cameraperson outside who could accompany him on his quest for vino? what a coincidence, huh:~)