DISCLAIMER: I make no apologies for my humor in this blog. They are jokes. If we didn’t laugh at ignorance or the shit life can throw at us, we’d likely fall apart.
Why are Asians so good at math and so terrible at driving? Do black guys really have large… back-child support payments?? How many Mexicans can you fit into a 1992 Honda Civic?
These are questions that will not be answered by me in my blog. Please disregard them completely because they are racist. Like AIDS, racism is hilarious.. but wrong to laugh at.
This blog is dedicated to food and old recipes I’ve collected and enjoyed that are now taboo thanks to health Nazis. Even my dear, sweet, Paula Deen has toned down her recipes and her and Michael are trying to lose weight. It feels as if the enemy has gotten to our Queen and we’re waiting for the official announcement that we’ve lost the war. Nevertheless, I will press on and they can pry the butter from my cold, dead hands.
I love food. Friends and family are what life is about and dinner is the perfect reason to spend time together. I love to cook for people and if I genuinely care about someone, I do give them grief in the process. Just ask my partner of 6 years. He gets the most shit actually because I love him most of all. He has also gained about 30 lbs since I started cooking for him so he’s not complaining… at least not about the food. I figure if he’s fat, he won’t go looking to trade me in for a younger model. I’m kidding… (or am I??)
I have been 29 years old for 9 years now. I grew up in Chicago but my family is very southern. From Appalachia, Middle Tennessee, Mississippi, Arkansas, Southern IL… to Chicago, where my parents had a magical moment while high in my grandparent’s basement in the 1970s and 9 months later… there I was. Fast forward and I am now living in TN just outside of Nashville so I feel strangely ‘at home’.
The thing I loved most about the South growing up was, of course, the food. Let’s face it, the fashion was terrible, TV was horrible, it was hot, bugs were bigger, not all “facilities” were indoors, social ignorance was worse at times (not everyone)… but we took trips down south and fabulous meals glued us all together. My best memories are of great-grandma’s breakfasts and her pies. Did I inherit my ability to make fantastic pie crusts from her? I was fortunate enough to know my great-great grandparents, by the way. My great-grandfather is around 97 years old and it was his parents that I met. They were hog farmers for decades. Did I inherit my love for bacon from them? OH, that reminds me. Great-grandma Euna Hicks used to spread bacon fat on her homemade biscuits instead of butter. Don’t you just want to hug that woman?? Well you can’t. She died at age 50.
Me with Great-grandpa on his farm, Southern IL 1970s
I remember one year we stopped by Tall Tree Lake in Southern IL, which at the time was owned by an uncle of mine who was born on the property, Audis. His wife Faye went in the house to ‘make us a quick lunch’. We expected sandwiches. We got corn, green beans, cornbread, ham and sweet tea. I saw no reason every meal couldn’t be that way and typically every family gathering was a major pig-out. Afterward the women would clean up, the men would fall asleep. I pranced around the kitchen with the women, unwittingly outing myself, and I still help the women to this day albeit with less prancing. It seems like all differences could be put aside with the right meal. I feel all warm and fuzzy inside thinking about it. On second thought, that feeling might be GERD, but I digress just the same.
I hope someone finds a killer recipe here. I hope they get the same comforting, nostalgic feeling I get from some of these dishes. Eat, drink and be merry!
Paul & Stephon
Paul's Recipes: Which Emotion Are We Eating Today? 