Culinary Shermans

I just had the best week of my life and it began with liver and onions.

The past eight days I've traveled, almost died, eaten too much, had my brain stuffed to bursting, and been badly mistreated by an airline I once respected. I told my husband this morning that I felt like the week was a sandwich - tasty deli meat, cheese and veggies layered between moldy, maggot-infested bread. I'm going to pick off the top bread and share the veggie layer. Meat and cheese next week!

Heather and greens, together at last

Friend Heather and I left Tulsa last Thursday and flew to Atlanta to see my very favorite aunt, Dr. MAM (she's a newly minted doctor) and spend Mother's Day with her. Heather researched the best fried chicken joints and mapped out the three days in Georgia. Our first stop, on the way from the airport to my aunt's, was a little cafeteria in Tucker, GA, that was featured in Diners, Drive-Ins and Dives, called Matthews. Lookit my liver and onions! Can't get that at home. No one else will eat it.

WHY won't my family eat liver and onions?!?

The running joke all week was that we were culinary General Shermans, plowing through all the fried chicken in Georgia. Unfortunately, Matthews doesn't serve fried chicken for lunch on Thursdays. What we had, though, was scrumptious. Bonus? Heather had turnip greens for the first time and fell in LOVE.

The Bear's Den cafeteria fried chicken. Died and went to heaven.

This is the fried chicken at The Bear's Den in Macon. Oh. Em. Gee. It's tied for first place for best fried chicken EVER. Moist, tender, perfectly fried. Their beans were equally delish. Unfortunately, my body was attempting to kill me. More on that another day. The meal was good, though.

Mary, Mary, quite adorable!

My cousin (that's her with her boy) showed Heather the hot pepper vinegar trick for greens and took her experience to a whole 'nother level. It's all Heather. *shudder* Give me the black-eyed peas any day.

These were some scrumpdiddlyitious field peas!

This is Clayton, Georgia's chicken, at the Clayton Cafe. Nom nom nom. The biggest chicken breasts we'd ever seen. The ambiance was almost better than the food. Over heard:
"Are the mashed potatoes real?"
"Well they come from potatoes."
Alrighty then.

*DROOL*

Our last fried chicken stop was, believe it or not, at the Atlanta airport, the only shining moment of the last day, a place called Paschal's. It's a seriously tough call between Pacshal's and The Bear's Den when it comes to the chicken.

Umm. Yeah. It was that good.

I liked it. Very much.

But there is NO CONTEST when it comes to dessert. Feast your eyes ...

I saw angels ascending and descending from Heaven while I ate this. Seriously.

I considered licking the plate. No one in that airport will ever see me again, right? My genteel southern upbringing stopped me (stop sniggering), but not before I thought long and hard. I rarely have red velvet cake because of the dye and my ADD, but this piece was worth breaking the rules for. The creamy chocolate layers with the cream cheese frosting ... to die for.

That, my friends, is the edible version of my trip. Next week? The conference!

Until I write again ...

Flea