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The glory of the Southern breakfast


Artichoke

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(5)  Surprised that the South didn't win the Civil War with these type of morning meals??? :laugh:

The South didn't win the War?? :shock:

Andrew Baber

True I got more fans than the average man but not enough loot to last me

to the end of the week, I live by the beat like you live check to check

If you don't move yo' feet then I don't eat, so we like neck to neck

A-T-L, Georgia, what we do for ya?

The Gentleman Gourmand

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(5)  Surprised that the South didn't win the Civil War with these type of morning meals??? :laugh:

The South didn't win the War?? :shock:

Depends entirely on whom you ask ... :laugh: where I live, they are convinced that it is only a matter of time until the truth will "out" ...

oh, and another urban myth shot to hell for you, agbaber, there is no Santa Claus ... :wink: He is just another dude out to sell overbought merchandise from Target ...

Melissa Goodman aka "Gifted Gourmet"

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can I go cry now? :sad::sad:

Andrew Baber

True I got more fans than the average man but not enough loot to last me

to the end of the week, I live by the beat like you live check to check

If you don't move yo' feet then I don't eat, so we like neck to neck

A-T-L, Georgia, what we do for ya?

The Gentleman Gourmand

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can I go cry now? :sad::sad:

Get it out of your system, if you must, but then we gotta move on to that Easter Bunny concern ... :rolleyes:

dry your tears with a fluffy, soft, southern biscuit, agbaber ... I'd say "the South will rise again" but it already has! Welcome to "the Sun Belt", a growing economic force to be reckoned with .. I reckon ... :laugh:

Melissa Goodman aka "Gifted Gourmet"

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*nibbles his biscuit*

Alright, I'm ok now.

And I want some home cooked southern food. Now.

Andrew Baber

True I got more fans than the average man but not enough loot to last me

to the end of the week, I live by the beat like you live check to check

If you don't move yo' feet then I don't eat, so we like neck to neck

A-T-L, Georgia, what we do for ya?

The Gentleman Gourmand

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Whenever someone visits us who isn't from these parts, I either make them a full-fledged Southern breakfast or take them to a restaurant that serves this wonderful food. It may not make them into a convert of grits or biscuits with molasses, but it shows them how to get full in a hurry!

I'd be interested to hear if anyone recalls their first "Southern breakfast."

Dean McCord

VarmintBites

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Well, the first breakfast I ever ate in the South was at a Waffle House, which is a Southern thing, while at the same time it is not, as they do not have biscuits. I was a child travelling with my parents, and my sister happened to receive cold eggs on this occasion. She told the waitress that her eggs were cold, and the waitress looked at her quizzically, so she repeated the statement a couple of times.

After a few more moments of confusion, the waitress' eyes lit up, and she said, "Oh, they're CAWLD!" That was the first moment that I realized that a few differences in pronunciation could amount to the definition of a separate dialect among the American English language.

My memorable first Southern breakfast, however, was at a convention in a retreat near Talladega, Alabama. The place is called Lake Hypatia, and run by a very sweet couple. Because it's quite remote, or at least it was when the conventions began, there is not much good food to be had at local restaurants. Later on, I ended up catering a meal for a future convention, and the best I could come up with for dinner for 100 people on a limited budget was bucketloads of sloppy joes, with a TVP option for vegetarians, huge trays of baked beans, vegetables and dip, plus some potato chips. It must have not been horrible, since every bit was scraped up within a half hour.

So the meals during the retreat are somewhat slim pickin's, and there are tons of activities inbetween, so you're starving by the time you get whatever is available to eat. The last day of the event is a Sunday morning, when you get a big Southern breakfast for the final meal, and then you head home. My first time there, after a weekend that included being seated for nearly 2 and a half hours at a local restaurant with nothing to eat but a few, tiny raw peanuts from a friend while we were waiting to be served, I got this huge gift of a meal.

Big biscuits, eggs, bacon, sausage, grits, white gravy. I was like an escaped prisoner from a concentration camp who was finally allowed to eat. And every bite was lovingly prepared by a couple of nice Southern ladies. I can't remember a meal that I've appreciated much more than this.

And an hour later, they came back with trays of fresh, warm banana pudding. Another first for me. It is indelibly etched into my brain as an ethereal comfort food.

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If, from now on, people could stop referring to Waffle House, in any context whatsoever, until I return to Atlanta, and am allowed to eat some.

It's horribly mean, and I get twitchy when I read about it, and can't have it.

(Thought, it must be said that when I live in a place with no Waffle House, my pant size drops considerably....) :shock:

Edited by agbaber (log)

Andrew Baber

True I got more fans than the average man but not enough loot to last me

to the end of the week, I live by the beat like you live check to check

If you don't move yo' feet then I don't eat, so we like neck to neck

A-T-L, Georgia, what we do for ya?

The Gentleman Gourmand

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enrevanche, you touched my heart with your mention of crumbled cornbread with buttermilk. That was my daddy's and my own favorite night time snack. Especially good in a tall glass...ah, me, gonna have to heat the oven up tomorrow--there's cornbread coming on, I can feel it. Fo' shure!! Thanx

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"Psychologically, the southern breakfast is peculiar. It is the first commingling of the day, and whether it be the late holiday feast, or the usual family gathering, and it sets the pace for the twenty-four hours." -- Agnes Morton

Hence the need for a "proper southern breakfast ... :wink: the pacesetter indeed ...

Melissa Goodman aka "Gifted Gourmet"

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