Time to visit the dirty South. What started out as a trip to make a few fellowship interviews soon turned into a competition to see how much food we could eat (or, how much a stomach can be assaulted without permanent injury).
Thursday night landed me at the Cracker Barrel. I was torn between all the choices in their menu but finally chose “chicken and dumplins”. Stupidly, I didn’t think that would be enough food so I also ordered a side of turnip greens, steak fries, and corn bread. The waiter soon delivered a heaping pile of dough and chicken. “Chicken and dumplins”? More like “coronary artery disease on a plate”. I was only able to make it through one-third of the plate before feeling like I needed to purge. Biggest surprise of the night: the huge volume of food brought to one person. Second biggest surprise: learning the turnip greens weren’t meat-free.
Friday, now joining up with Kenny, our first stop was the Cook Out, a fast food restaurant chain in the South that features grilled hamburgers and milkshakes — make that 40 different kinds of milkshakes, including Snickers, banana pudding, and watermelon. Pictured below is Kenny holding our two trays o’ food and me holding my Huge Tea. By the way, included in my tray o’ food was a cup of chili that didn’t have any beans in it. Who needs beans if it frees up room for more meat?
After eating our meal, watching the new Fast & Furious, going out for a quick drink, we ended the day with a nightcap of Oreos dipped in peanut butter. I know, I know, but just try it.
Saturday morning started with breakfast at the highly-anticipated Waffle House (or as I like to call it, “the southern fixture”).
We walked in, dutifully abided by their house rule (“No Firearms”), and placed our order: one tasty waffle and a bowl of cheesy grits. It wasn’t so much of a bowl of grits as it it was a few grains of grit mixed with hot oil and covered by a measly slice of cheese.
After Kenny’s class and a stroll through NC State to build up our next appetite, we were in pursuit of a good sushi lunch, which we found at Wild Ginger. More importantly, dessert consisted of six Krispy Kreme donuts. A trip to Chapel Hill and one walk around UNC later, we arrived at a NY pizza place for a fat slice of pizza — you know, to hold us over till dinner.
Dinner, or our piรจce de resistance, took place at The Pit. Started by chef Ed Mitchell — a heavy-set black man with a grin, white beard, and large overalls who is often pictured holding a little pig under each arm — The Pit has become North Carolina’s go-to place for barbecue. Coincidentally, we happened to spot this pope of pork sitting next to us and decided to stop at his table and say hi. (Kenny: “What should we call him, Big Ed?”. Waitress: “Try Mr. Mitchell.”) Two hours later, we had successfully packed our stomachs with Carolina ribs, pulled pork, and brisket with BBQ beans and steak fries. We then followed it up with an additional order of baby back ribs, collard greens, and sweet potato fries. Not to be outdone, dessert was deep-fried cheesecake. Kenny and I waddled out of the place in pursuit of home. Sleep that night was impaired by my stomach pushing up on my diaphragm. Not good sleep hygeine.
Now, back in California, time to decompress … and replete my vegetable-deficient body.