Today while I was making breakfast, I called up Angie to see what she was doing. Come to find out that while I was making my family the humble meal of scrambled eggs and turkey bacon, in a grand departure from our usual maple yogurt, granola and frozen blueberries....she was making pancakes, eggs, bacon, potatoes and grits.
Mmmmmm, grits. Mmmmmmm. Oohhhhh. Grits. Mmmmmmmm.
*Pearmama shakes head out of reverie*
I haven't had grits in ages. Sure enough, I had a unopened box in the pantry. I have my sister-in-law to thank for introducing me to grits in the first place. I had just gotten married, had a baby, was a ripe old twenty-five years old and I had never tasted grits before. Seems kinda strange, doesn't it? It certainly isn't the most exotic food out there.
But grits? Nah.
I know whats up with chorizo, tripas, nopales, tacos de lengua, chicharrones...pork butt. But grits? I'm not from the south and I'm not black, sooo.....grits were never on the menu in my house growing up.
But I have since rectified the error of my ways. Grits are the shiznit. Kinda like cream of wheat, but more chewy. I put a little bit of milk in mine, some sugar and enough butter to make it illegal is fifteen states.
And it's good...really, really good.
All you beaners out there should broaden your horizon. Skip the tortillas, weenies con huevo and try some grits. You'll be glad you did.
