Tuesday, March 14, 2006

Take This Grit And Shove It

Oh Lordy, here we go again. Another Charleston, S.C. foody piece by the word-stuffed R.W. Apple. He's the Pat Conroy of the culinary world, all puffed up on ludicrous, flowery verbage of every flavor. Apple writes about the South only to name-drop at a furious pace and announce, again, that he just happens to be married to a bona fide Charleston blue blood from the such-and-such line of so-in-so's. As if he picked a spouse from a horse auction catalog.

I'd no sooner announce I was married to a Charlestonian than I'd, uh, attend a Clap Your Hands Say Yeah (Say Gag) show. It's nothing to go around bragging about.

In my considerable experience, Charlestonians are some of the most dangerous, secretive, alcoholic, paranoid, provincial, repressed, repressive, conservative wackos on the planet. After all, who started one of the bloodiest, costliest wars this world has ever seen because a few Yankees pissed the blow-hards off? Wasn't exactly a bunch of dudes from New Orleans. No, it was a bunch of the stubbornest men the world has ever known -- ones straight outta South Carolina. I'd know a little something about them too, as would John McCain.

But don't take my word. I just grew up there. So did Stephen Colbert; here's what he has to say on the subject. Don't say I didn't warn you.

One true confession, the Hominy Grill Apple writes about in today's NYT is really quite fabulous. The food is mouth-watering and the notable locals-watching superb. Also, an authentic Charleston relative sent, at my request, the Hominy Grill's pickled shrimp recipe. Wouldn't dream of going to a pot-luck, steeplechase, tent revival, Cocks game, fox hunt or visitor day at the State Pen without a big 'ole tub of it. Smack Your Lips Say Yum. Now don't you wish you had that recipe? If you're nice to me and link to my blog a lot, well maybe just maybe I'll post it here.

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