Friday, January 15, 2010

Ode to Grits

Last night, The Hoff and I had a nice romantic dinner in honor of D.C. Restaurant Week.

Our last Restaurant Week experience was God awful. I'm talking, I-would-have-rather-eaten- Ramen-noodles-and-a-Big-Mac awful. The only saving grace from that experience were our drinks, and only because we knew the bartender.

But, a friend recommended this particular restaurant so I figured it was safe to dine there for Restaurant Week. Plus, they don't discriminate and allow you to chose anything on their menu.

It was good. Not AMAZING, but good. 1,000,000 times better than the place that popped my D.C. Restaurant Week cherry.

The best part of the meal? The gouda grits served with my shrimp. By far some of the best grits I've ever tasted.

I'm pretty crazy about my grits. True story: I once, stammered into a Waffle House in Richmond (best place to go for late night drunk food) and belligerently yelled "I want my fucking grits" for a good 15 minutes until their wholesome, buttery goodness were placed in front of my face alongside some cheesy scrambled eggs, bacon and toast.

(...I think I just exposed my white trash side.)

At least I didn't belligerently demand my favorite Southern side dish in an upscale D.C. restaurant...YET.

Last night, as I was devouring my gouda grits and shrimp, The Hoff tried and bite and decided that he liked my grits just as much as me. I told him that if he's going to eat the epitome of Southern food, he has to say 'y'all' everytime he takes a bite.

Didn't go over so well.

Bahstan Boy that he is, I don't even think he brain can wrap around the essence and beauty of 'y'all.'

This means, darling Hoff, no mo' grits for you!

2 comments on "Ode to Grits"

Anonymous said...

I am SO glad you mentioned your rise to fame at the Waffle House. I saw "grits" in the headline and you just HAD to mention that wonderful tid bit about you.
That was the night I sang "Milkshake" to everyone. We were quite the pair.

Dmbosstone on January 21, 2010 at 12:18 PM said...

Two years ago I stopped at a Richmond Waffle House just because this girl I was with wanted grits so badly.

Of course she proceeded to complain about the grits despite our trip.


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