Lately it seems that I just can't get enough grits. Maybe it's because it's turned cold or maybe it's because I'm just strange. Either way, I have eaten my share of grits in the last few weeks. (I type this as they simmer on the stove, so forgive me if this is short.)
Grits are one of my comfort foods. Everyone has their own comfort food- mashed potatoes, oatmeal, beef stew, chicken soup. Grits are mine. Plus, Thai green curry chicken, which is another story, but thank you, Favorite Thai Restaurant. Thank you.
Now, where was I?
Oh, yes. Grits. (I have to hurry before the timer goes off.)
Every time I take a bite of grits it reminds me of home and childhood, or the smell of the gas stove in Mama's kitchen. On chilly mornings, Mama always turned the oven on and slightly opened the oven door. It quickly warmed the kitchen, in addition to our household heating system. I can remember the smell of a warming oven as I sat there at the table and ate breakfast.
Sometimes Mama fried an egg for me and I mixed them in. (If you've never tried this, don't judge. It's yummy.) Sometimes I actually put ketchup on my grits, without the egg, of course. I still don't remember why I ever put ketchup on them because I sure don't do that now, but my only guess is that I was a kid and put ketchup on everything.
Grits also make me think of fried catfish and good hush puppies. A lot of people in the South eat grits with their fish. Most of the time it's cheese grits, but sometimes they're plain. Grits and fish just go together. Much better than grits and ketchup, I might add.
Oh, my time is up! The grits are ready.
While I check the stove, please let me know about your comfort foods and what memories they bring up. I'm going to fix myself a bowl of grits. This time I think I'll just add butter.