Wednesday, June 03, 2009

Maybe it's in the genes

Wednesday, June 03, 2009
I have the most intense craving for barbecue.

Not steak- though we did have awesome bacon wrapped filets with grilled asparagus and my mom's foil-pouch potatoes last night (I burnt them but good, and Gary and I fought over the delicious crispy bits).

Not hamburgers, or hot dogs, or even smokies on a bun drizzled in ketchup and sweet bavarian mustard.

No, I mean barbecue. Slow cooked smoked meats, cold slaw salads, buttery corn on the cob, icy beer, spicy, tangy sauce. I don't eat pork, but in the past 6 months I've changed my mind. Hit me, hit me with some meat, for the love of god.

And a side order of hush puppies.


Pleeeeease.

I don't know where this craving is coming from, if it's a throwback to my paternal grandfather, who was from Alabama, or if it's just that it is hot, it is summer, give me barbecue.

Maybe I can convince Mama and Papa B to take me out to Big T's on Saturday. A girl can hope?

(if not, then maybe Mexican? Yes?)

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