- I love my hunny’s mom.
I love her cooking.
I hate the way I feel after eating her food.
It’s nothing personal.
Great southern cooks. Collards. Fried chicken. Fried cornbread. Fried okra. Baked mac n cheese. All so delicious. All so FAT. I used to strive to be a great southern cook. Not anymore.
And before you say “just don’t eat it”, you must realize:
1. Cooking is an event in the South. Saturday breakfast, Sunday dinners, family dinners, weddings, graduations, pig pickins, funerals, church, fish frys. Everything is surrounded by food.
2. Cooking is personal. Insult the food, insult the chef, insult the entire family. In deep country accent: “It’s cabbage, whaddya mean it’s not healthy. Don’t you know health food little guuuurl!”
3. It’s so good.
Granted, I did make better than usual choices. Cabbage, corn on the cob, grilled chicken. It could have been worse. But all of that was dipped in butter, or butter-like product. Salted. And cooked til mush.
I feel like crap today. All the salt. All the fat. All the goodness. But at least I realize it.