I love Thanksgiving food, but I love Lowcountry food more, and the best part about going back down to James Island for Thanksgiving is more the latter than the former.
Ayako and I flew back to Chicago on Monday evening. As if realizing that it would be a while before the words “mustard-based” or “fresh seafood” could reenter our lives with any authentic meaning, we spent Monday in a veritable feeding frenzy of Dixie delights. Consumed:
Blackened flounder, cheese grits, fried green tomatoes, fried flounder po’ boy, home fries, HUSHPUPPIES, fried pickles, Dr. Pepper, Mac & Cheese, and, oh yes, vinegar-based BBQ in the Charlotte Airport (my place in the eternal battle between NC/VA BBQ VS. SC BBQ is as fraught as my place between North and South [Carolina]. I belong to both, and thus, neither).
Now I’m back in Chicago. Which, I guess, means I’ll have a hot dog.