Five and a half years ago, I went to Atlanta for several days for a conference. The specific details of that conference have lost hold in my memory, but I remember two main for the real takeaways from the seminar:
1. These were the nicest people I’d ever met. (Friendly and warm – the complete stereotype of southern hospitality.)
2. This was the craziest, most delicious food I’d ever had at that point. (Any place that categorizes cinnamon buns as dinner rolls has to be okay? Check out STRIP at Atlantic Station and Mary Mac’s and prepare to drool.)
I had the southern feast from Mary Mac’s in my mind when I was thinking of this Sunday’s supper. Our little round table was completely cluttered with dishes – and we were modest in our order. Cheese grits, mac and cheese, collard greens, chicken-fried steak, various forms of bread product, iced tea…the long walk back to the hotel was welcome. Maybe not even long enough.
Although the food didn’t cover every square inch of the table tonight like it did that warm June night at Mary Mac’s, it held its own.