March 8, 2012

Do not put sugar in my grits

Today's workout: 6 miles, squeezed in during a tiny break in the day. 8:17 pace. Then I crammed in a Bodypump class while my daughter had a church activity. That's two weeks in a row of weight training, y'all. I'm still using the lightest weights created. So light that my toddlers could do the workout, but I figure if I at least repeat it once a week, it's better than lifting air. Or lifting Thin Mints from the box to my mouth. Why are they so light and crispy that it feels like you ate nothing at all, forcing you to keep digging in the box for more?

This post is dedicated to anyone who cares about southern cuisine. Usually we like breading and frying everything, like Oreos and sticks of butter. And we definitely are not against sugar in any form. But sometimes, we will vomit if you try to insert sugar into our fried, greasy stuff.

Cornbread is the prime example. If you put sugar in my cornbread, I smile and nod while I eat it, but secretly I will wish that I could extract the sugar (to use for a cobbler later) and give it a hefty injection of bacon grease. The second best option in this scenario would be for me just to straight funnel bacon grease.

Tonight's supper featured another food that sometimes people mistake for a cake and try to put sugar in it: grits. I have never once in my life prepared a grit combined with sugar. It just feels wrong, and I think you know what I mean. Like the old days when you would sign your dogs up for the free CDs from BMG. The dogs loved music and dancing, but something about it just wasn't right.

We like our grits with butter, salt and over medium eggs. 

Thanks to a recent visitor from KY, these are fresh from the roost.

Grits, eggs and mo grits

Yolks like that don't come from Publix.

Mixed to perfection.

If sugar were to touch this plate, I might break someone's arm.

And since there is no way in Hades that I will let a vegetable slip into that mix, we drink a spinach smoothie to balance things out.

If it were between me and the blender, my husband might choose this machine. That's how much we love it.


And then we had a contest to see who could make the ugliest whiny face. It was close.




Just when we were ready to make a decision, he threw in a tricky laugh cry. Fun, yet horrendous at the same time. The kind of face that might haunt you if an adult tried to pull it off.