22 January, 2008 | Leave a Comment
I spent the rest of my trip home in North Carolina. My parents have a little place there now near Asheville and they will eventually relocate to NC permanently. During this last part of the trip, I was in my pajamas sitting on the sofa for most of the time, which is exactly what I wanted to be doing.
One of the great things about the Southern U.S. is the food and in particular (at least for me) the breakfasts. Southern breakfasts are the ultimate comfort food: Warm biscuits, gravy, grits, eggs. What I wouldn’t give for a plate of that right now! My maternal grandfather was from Alabama and he loved to cook; I grew up eating biscuits and gravy and grits — the works. There’s nothing like it.
British people often ask me what an American biscuit is, since in the UK a biscuit is more like a cookie. It is often said that an American biscuit is like a scone. They may look similar, but they are vastly different. Whereas a scone is dense and often sweet, a biscuit is light and airy and savory; the outside is buttery and flaky (and if you’re lucky, warm from the oven). Here is another photo of a biscuit:
And here’s one split open:
Grits are another favorite. I was going to bring home a box of grits with me but forgot. For those who don’t know, grits are coarsely ground corn with a porridge-like texture:
Rather than having me try to explain them, check out this Wikipedia entry. I love them with [vegan] butter, salt and pepper and all mixed up with eggs. Yum-o!
For Christmas dinner, we had as a side dish something my mom usually makes for Thanksgiving dinner — a casserole made of yams (similar to sweet potatoes), apples, walnuts, cinnamon and topped with marshmallows. Many Americans have some sort of similar dish so I’m not sure if it’s specific to one region of the country. Here is a photo of it fresh from the oven:
I would show you the innards…but they aren’t too photogenic.
On the rare day we ventured from the house, we took a drive on the Blue Ridge Parkway. The Blue Ridge Mountains (part of the Appalachians) actually do look blue, though I don’t know why. The mountain ranges, which stretch for as far as the eye can see, are stunning. Still, as someone who grew up in the Western U.S., I don’t necessarily think of these as “mountains.” Ahem.
This area has a strong literary heritage; Thomas Wolfe and O. Henry called it home. In the town where I stayed, F. Scott Fitzgerald had a nervous breakdown and wrote about it; in nearby Asheville, Zelda Fitzgerald perished in a fire at the mental hospital where she was a patient. Sadly, I did not check out any of these sights, but I’ll be back again to visit. What did I do besides sit on the sofa? Well, I went to the mall to buy clothes and shoes, which are much cheaper back home than in London. And like many ex-pats visiting their homeland, I spent way too much time at the bank sorting out various problems. I also ate more Mexican food.
Driving around town, this giant neon sign can be seen on the front of every supermarket that is part of the area’s most popular chain:
One day we took a stroll downtown and ate a restaurant owned by a British ex-pat (who, shockingly, did not have a very good selection of tea on hand). In restaurants, it was shocking to see people smoking! I rarely see that in America anymore, but then North Carolina is tobacco country.
I quite liked this sign I saw painted on the side of a soda fountain:
So that’s the end of my American journey 2007. Thanks for reading!
Anglofille said @ 4:51 pm | travel | 6 Comments
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kit Says:
January 22nd, 2008 at 5:02 pmExcited to read this as we are moving from UK to NC this summer.
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Is that a HT sign?
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no, it’s from ingles…
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I am sick with envy on the biscuit score.
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My parents are from the south so I grew up on southern food and I agree that the food is amazing (with a few exceptions like chitterlings). I’m a purist when it comes to my grits – butter and a little bit of salt…
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Chris Says:
January 27th, 2008 at 1:31 pmMy husband’s parents are southern; so I’m familiar with grits and other comfort foods. Asheville, however, is not designed for the tourist or out-of-towner in mind. There are many areas without street signs, and the building boom has put houses into sides of mountains. When asking for directions, the natives will tell you the route number but not whether to go north, south, east or west on it. But no matter where you come from, you’ll wind up at the mall in the blink of an eye. BTW, the building boom in nearby Hendersonville is worse ecologically–they blow off mountain tops to accommodate construction. These are the Appalachians that have been with us for hundreds of millions of years that are instantly eroded.
