I don’t mean to brag, but my spouse is out of town for 6 days and 6 nights.
You jealous?
He is on a work trip that is very plush and exciting, but I chose not to go along this time for some of the following reasons:
Absence makes the heart grow fonder. And we normally spend most every day together.
I took a real, true break over the previous holiday week and have a lot of client work and other admin work catching up to do here in LA.
Sometimes a lady needs to have a big bed all to herself.
And the most genuine reason, we just flew back from a week-long trip to see my parents for Thanksgiving. So I didn’t want to get on another plane so quickly.
Have you ever returned to an airport terminal at around the same time you departed from the terminal a week prior? We did that, from one Friday to the next, and it felt as much like time travel as I can imagine! Like I said, it was a true vacation break for me. I wasn’t answering emails or taking calls (with one exception). On this trip I read and played games. We all ate a lot, cooked a lot and went for walks around the small town where my parents live in rural Alabama. It felt like a week inside a vacuum of “not real life” for me, a temporary time traveler.
Going from the 18th largest urban area in the world to rural Alabama was as jarring as visiting another country. The culture is different, the food is different, the people are different, and the weather is different. We had a terrific time; everyone was so happy to finally be together again. Although politics, religion, and trust in covid vaccines are definitely culture specific for every city and town in America, my relatives managed to get through the week without much mention of any of them. All on our best behavior —maybe due to our gratefulness for our reunion! I hope you had a similar experience for your family time.
My favorite Aunt and Uncle drove eight hours through Atlanta holiday traffic to join us for the week with their little, black poodle puppy! Other southern relatives came for visits and meals as well. Some of you might be interested to know how many guns we saw (0) or how many Trump flags were flying (0). But what you should really be asking me about is the food!
Let’s talk about it!
On Wednesday, after driving almost an hour each way to shop in a tiny town with one stoplight, the ladies decided we wanted to take a break at David’s Catfish House for lunch. This little dumpy building which would probably blow over in a strong wind provided me with one of my most enjoyable experiences of 2021! You cannot buy this sort of food in Los Angeles NO MATTER HOW MUCH MONEY YOU HAVE. It’s a travesty, but it’s true. I wish I’d taken a picture of the menu to frame and put here, above my desk.
Anyway! I was raised in North Carolina, not Alabama. But the feeling (and the grits) are basically the same. Bottom line: southern food is my comfort food and I was bouncing with excitement deciding what items of comfort to eat. Food prices in rural Alabama are very low, so I ordered everything I wanted even though I knew I couldn’t possibly eat it all.
Sweet tea. There were 2 tupperware pitchers on our table full of dark, sweet tea. There was no water. There was tea. Do you have a problem with that?
Cole slaw. A red, plastic container full of finely chopped cabbage and onion (and maybe one carrot?) covered in a sweet, tangy, mayonnaise sauce with some black pepper. There was enough cole slaw for 40 servings in this container. It was brought to the table first, like a salad course, but nothing at all like a salad.
Fried pickles. Y’all. They brought us a plastic plate with an ENTIRE jar of dill pickle slices dipped in cornmeal batter and deep fried. I could have ordered only this and I would still be writing a newsletter about this lunch.
Clam chowder. Very good, but not hitting my “southern food” target. I didn’t eat much of that.
Main course. Members of my family ordered fried catfish, broiled catfish, and cajun spiced catfish. Zane and I both ordered popcorn shrimp. We each got enough to feed everyone in the restaurant. My aunt didn’t want me to bring home the plentiful leftovers because “leftover seafood is no good.” But she would have to pry those shrimp out of my cold, dead hands. I ate them all the next day for breakfast.
Hush puppies. Can we all just take a moment of silence to consider the crunchy, salty, goodness?
Collard greens. With vinegar-pepper sauce. Thank goodness for this amazing side dish. It was the only vegetable I ate for the first 4 days we were in town. And if you are thinking, “Collards aren’t my favorite.” I don’t wanna hear about it! You are as ignorant as Jeff’s college roommate who moved to Texas from Boston and claimed not to like Mexican food because he’d only ever eaten a burrito from 7-11. Real collard greens are a vegetable in name only. Once they’ve been cooked with pork fat for 15 hours they belong in a new section of the food pyramid called “my belly!”
French fries. This was the only dish on the table available for consumption west of the Colorado river.
Once we gave our server our orders, there was nothing to do but dream. And discuss the decor of David’s Catfish House, which I believe is a local chain. They have corrugated metal siding around the bottom half of the walls like a sort of wainscoting for hillbillies. It is probably pretty easy to hose down after closing time. Zane remarked on the burlap potato sacks hung on the windows in lieu of curtains.
“They kinda give it a barn feeling in here.”
To which Aunt Debbie quickly replied, “Well, if you’re gonna be eatin’ like a pig. I guess that’s about right.” Our laughter was loud and it was real. Our souls got soothed and our bellies got full. Thanks, David!
Before our arrival my mom had texted with Jeff, our family’s designated Turkey Cooker, about how much and how many casseroles she was making. Should she get a ham and a turkey? 2 hams? What did he think? She’s used to cooking for two people with measly appetites. I imagine it was nerve racking to anticipate 2 teenagers and myriad other relatives joining them at the table for days on end.
“No matter how much food you’ve bought, it won’t be enough.” was Jeff’s honest, but maybe terrifying reply.
And he was right of course. But it didn’t matter because in a small town grocery shopping is an outing! He went with Aunt Debbie to the Piggly Wiggly (the Pig) to get some supplies and at my and Darla’s request “for heaven’s sake please get some fresh fruits and vegetables.” The pickings were slim and he found only some wilted cabbage and a bag of apples.
So the next evening, having eaten through all of the available produce, we went on another outing —this time to WalMart where there were more sad fruits and vegetables, and also more colorful locals. We take a lot of things for granted here in California, fresh produce-wise. That’s all I have to say about that.
Another exciting adventure took the ladies in our group 2.5 hours northeast to visit Auburn University. Darla has applied there, as well as to about ten other universities around the country. She is waiting to hear from all of them. So obviously, she has no idea where she’ll go or what she’ll study, which is very normal —as you know.
Still, I’ve noticed (after she pointed it out to me) that adults cannot stop asking her the same 3 or 4 unanswerable questions about her plans. So, if you have an undecided college-bound teenager in your life, choose your words wisely. They are confused and stressed out enough trying to decide where to live, what to study, and how they’ll pay for any of it without you reminding them of these looming decisions. Did you know, at 17, what you would major in? Or which school you would choose when you hadn’t been accepted yet or stepped foot on the campus? No. Talk to them about something else instead.
Driving through the countryside past fields of white cotton was so different from where we live. I’ve been thinking a lot about how it’s where I come from but it’s not where I am. I’m more comfortable now driving on a 5-lane freeway full of traffic than on a two lane road that winds over hills like a silver ribbon gleaming in the sunlight.
Still, lots of people I truly love feel the opposite way and that is wonderful. It’s really nice for us to visit them and have a break from the city. This whole country is a vast, diverse and miraculous place; and I’m so glad to be here with you.
love, Shannon
Bonus anecdote: I’ve been listening to the Country Christmas station in the kitchen this week. Yesterday after Zane had been sitting at the counter eating a snack for a while, he got up to clear his plane and spontaneously joined in with the radio, making up his own lyrics, “Merry Christmaaaaas, and beeeeer, and God. Yeaaah.”