I spent the last week in Atlanta. In fact, I’m writing this on my iPhone from the Atlanta airport commencing my voyage home.
I got up this morning and decided to leave extra early in case I get turned around trying to find the rental return, the airport, or the gate. good thing I did, because I found two out of three of those things fairly difficult to find. when I finally got to my gate, I still had 90 minutes to spare so I went for breakfast at a cafe just up from my departure gate.
The hostess asked me if I wanted smoking or non-smoking, something I hadn’t heard in Canada for quite some time. The placed wreaked of smoke so it didn’t make much difference. I sat down, looked at the menu and decided on the Farmer’s Breakfast. Two eggs, any style, choice of bacon or sausage, toast or biscuit, and home fries or grits.
I told the waitress that I’d take the eggs over easy, bacon, biscuit, and since I’d never tried grits before, I’d have to give them a try. “Huh? Where are y’all from that you ain’t never tried grits?”. I told her that all I know about grits is the saying kiss my grits that I’d heard on TV. She laughed and said she would gve me home fries if I didn’t like the grits. “But sir, y’all gotta hook them grits up before you eat them. put some butter, salt and pepper in them first.”
The grits showed up and they looked a lot like porridge. They are a native American dish based on corn. I hooked them grits up and chowed down on them honey sweet. Pretty good!
