Tribute to pot liquor

it's not what you might think

I like to sneak up on people about being a Southerner. No, I don’t sound like it. No, I haven’t lived there in over three decades. No, I do not have a Confederate flag (or sword) in my basement.¹ But let me bust out a y’all or a “mash this button” and you can’t deny me.

I could qualify for the Daughters of the Confederacy as well as the Daughters of the American Revolution² though you would not catch me dead in either of those organizations. I grew up in Richmond, Virginia, and before you utter “Is that even in the South"?” which I’ve been asked many, many times, please review the location of the Robert E. Lee monument which was torn down in 2021 or perhaps research “Capital of the Confederacy” for more context. My mother’s side is firmly Deep South, from Alabama, where they say “Aint” instead of “Aunt”³ and tell you to “hug my neck.” My grandmother’s ancient lips could not pronounce “Hawaii” or “ruin” but she accused me of having a “brogue.” I have stories in my family history of one great grandmother who grew up in Toano, VA, where everyone was horrified when the Yankees parked their horses in the church.

But my favorite thing about connecting to my Southern heritage is the damn food. And you know, just like anywhere, people have strong opinions about it all. If you’re on the ‘Gram, you can follow @landontalks if you want. He initiates loads of discussions on all kinds of Southern cultural topics, but food is a bigun.

My new hoodie.

One recent discussion concerned the addition of sweetener to grits. This is a big no-no, unless you think it’s not and then you’re just wrong.⁴ I have some apparel related to this topic. Landon’s followers got into a mighty discussion on the essence of grits, polenta vs hominy and some kind of chemical additive? I don’t even know. All I care about is that any grits I eat are salty and buttery.

This shirt is a cheater option, from Roost Fried Chicken in Bozeman, where you can avail yourself of all manner of Southern goodies, though not…liver and onion.

An unpopular opinion: fried chicken liver and onion is delicious. As a kid, this was the very worst dinner I could imagine. Plus, have you ever seen raw chicken livers? They come in what looks like a sour cream container and resemble fat leeches. But now, I don’t know…there is something scrumptious about them all fried up. Also, fried okra which I am a pro at preparing. Once I was looking for okra in the grocery store here in Missoula and the man said, “Do you even know what okra is?” Excuse me, sir. Yes.

A favorite t-shirt. No, I don’t own an iron.

And then there are fat tomatoes picked straight out of your garden, of course. My grandmother used to slice some up and serve them on a saucer. Understatement is sometimes the best plating. It is admittedly tricky to cut through a tomato skin with a butter knife, but you do learn to manage. Next, make yourself a tomato and mayonnaise sandwich with some of those fresh slices. The mayo…well, Duke’s, unless Hellmann’s, I don’t actually care too much about this.⁵ If you’ve never tried celery salt on your mayo and tomato sandwich, you might ought to.

Turnip greens in the pressure cooker? I mean, I didn’t like them as a kid but now I’d eat those things in a hot Georgia second. The old folks called the leftover liquid “pot liquor” and believe me it was the only liquor they imbibed. Into this pot liquor they dipped their cornbread. This is not silly corncake like we have out west. The only ingredients are corn meal, baking soda, an egg, and some salt. No sugar, ma’am.

What Southern thing will I not eat? I’ve tried so hard to like cornbread pushed down into a tall glass of buttermilk and spooned into the mouth like ice cream, but I cannot. Sweet-ish three-bean salad, that’s a nope. Beets?⁶ Hard no.

I think I inherited some Southern mannerisms related to cooking: never fully accept compliments related to what you’ve prepared. When people stop by, always offer food (drink, at least! What kind of Coke do you want? I’ve got Coke, Sprite, and root beer). Make enough for a full church pot luck even if it’s just you and your friend from down the street.

The South has a lot to atone for…I’m looking straight at you, Cousin Calvin…but it also gave me Aint Elnr, a smattering of manners, and mayo and tomato sandwiches.

1. Though I do have some Confederate paper money. It’s kind of cool.

2. The DAR is a good story. My grandmother completed all the paperwork for this, so I have the family tree etc etc but when they wouldn’t let Marian Anderson sing at Constitution Hall in 1939, she decided against joining. Go, Grandma.

3. I had a lot of aints.

4. You can put sugar into cream of wheat, which is disgusting anyway and why would you eat that slop, or oatmeal. That’s what’s allowed.

5. I KNOW…I’m supposed to care.

6. I am aware they serve beets everywhere, not just in Dixie.