Sunday, January 25, 2009


My partner and I are going on a pilgrimage for lunch today.  Last year, about this time, we discovered an wonderful family-owned restaurant near Jefferson, GA - The Redd House.  They have the best fried chicken outside of grandmother's kitchen.  And fried green tomatoes done right (all the slices are about 1/4" thick -no gross slabs), chicken livers, hush puppies, fried catfish.  Fried. Fried.  And More Fried.  

Luckily for me, they also have a fairly nice salad bar and vegetable table.  I can indulge in a little bit of FRIED and then fill up on veggies.

But it hit me today: we go there for more than the food.  We go for the ambiance.  It's family run and families go there to eat after church.   They all seem to know one another.  It's almost like Mayberry.   My partner and I are both from small southern towns and we're rather misplaced living in Atlanta.  It hit me today that we make the 90 mile trek to The Redd House not just for the great food, but to reconnect with our roots.

And I don't have to gorge on fried green tomatoes for the reconnection.  I'll be happy with one piece of catfish and a plate full of vegetables.  Fruit for dessert.   And I'll feel at peace with myself in all ways when we leave.

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