Awright, awready! I’m home!

June 20, 2011

Been home, in point of fact, since Friday night. Have cooked. Twice. And drank beer and sat in the sun and contemplated the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune that kept me from being born rich and having a vacation home on Hilton Head Island.

This was a shrimp Caesar salad in Beaufort. Did I fail to mention that?

I could get used to Hilton Head Island. Any of you peeps out there who want to take me on as a kept woman and buy me a house there, I’m available. I’ll cook for you.

Anyway, life was good on Hilton Head. Lots o’ good seafood. Grouper with crabmeat topping at the Old Oyster Factory, and there was more grouper on one plate than any one human ought to eat at a sitting, so I didn’t. But damn, it hurt to leave it. Pork tenderloin over polenta at the Old Fort Pub, the only non-seafood animal protein I consumed while I was gone, if you don’t count bacon at breakfast. Well, I take that back; there was a Virginia ham sandwich one day for lunch, and a roast beef sandwich the next day. But at least the only non-seafood entree I voluntarily ordered.

Mustard on barbecue? I know. It Just Ain't Right.

Well, except for these aforementioned barbecue sliders. Weird-looking sauce, I know. South Carolina. “Too small to be a country, too large to be a lunatic asylum.”  (Atty. Gen. James Pettigru, 1861). Mustard on your barbecue? Give me a freakin’ break.

Left the Low Country on Friday, leaving a sizeable sum of money at the outlet mall en-route to the Savannah airport. Baby needed new clothes, dontcha know. M’mm h’mm. Sat at the gate in Savannah for an unconscionable amount of time, before they gave up and deplaned us, which at least gave me an opportunity to go to the bathroom and get a beer, in that order. Dinner was forgettable airport food in Et-lanna.

Saturday night was a damn fine dinner, albeit I didn’t photograph it. I’d been to the farmer’s market, so we had okra, corn, sliced tomatos and purple hull peas for dinner. No meat. Can I hear an amen? I was happy.

Sunday night was country style ribs, grilled low-and-slow over indirect heat on the gas grill that I’m gradually learning to master, along with some potato salad, from new potatos from the FM, and arepas, made from the night before’s corn. They needed more salt. Everything else was marvelous.

Beyond that, it’s been decompressing and getting home and going back to work and saying, “WTF? Where do I start???” You and y’mama ‘n ’em are welcome to come help me catch up from a week out of the office. And hang around; we’re gonna confit duck leg quarters again this week.

We went back to Hudson’s one night. I had the “Pinkie,” which is steamed shrimps and corn and sausage. If it wasn’t andouille, it was damn close. It was good. But I need to teach those folks how to make them some cocktail sauce. I had the aforementioned grouper at the

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