A Southern Thanksgiving

Hello my long lost loves!

It has been far too long.  But seeing as I’ve been in a food coma for nearly a week now, I hope you can find a way to forgive me.  I’ve decided to come back with a bang and give you a breakdown of all of the wonderful fats that have snuggled into my belly and will probably hibernate there for the remainder of the winter.  FUPA will be prevalent in future posts to come (By the way, did you know that FUPA stands for “Front Upper Pussy Area?”  I know, I feel sexy too.)

1. Turkey.

White meat, dark meat, wild turkey nuggets, smoked turkey – I ate it ALL.  And as a result, shamelessly fell asleep with my mouth open on a lazy boy in the middle of my entire extended family’s conversations.  Also, I won the world record for amount of drool expelled in one hour.  I may add that to my resume under “special skills.”

2. Fried EVERYTHING.

I spent my holiday in the good ol’ South.  Which, consequently, meant that the majority of what I ate was deep fried and smothered with some sort of delicious heart-stopping sauce.  In Minnesota, we experience a plethora of fried foods of all sorts once a year during that magical two week period called the State Fair.  Mississippi is way cooler.  Their state fair fare lasts all year round!  It was like eating a tub of lard that tasted like clouds of heaven.  Which, consequently, meant I couldn’t stop.  But it’s okay, because my dutiful preparations (remember that large Domino’s pizza?) ensured I could fit it all in (that’s what she said).

3. Krispy Kreme.

Ever since the tragic demise of many of their stores, Krispy Kreme has been massively hard to come by (I’m apparently writing an erotic novel today…MUST GET HEAD OUT OF GUTTER!).  That sweet, sweet golden glazed donut that appears light enough that you can always find a way to eat it guilt-free?  My immediate family and I (there are four of us) polished of a dozen.  But only after we ate BBQ and I finished off my little brother’s fries.  When in Rome, no?

4. Pecans, Pecans, Pecans.

(Is it “Pee-cahn?” “Pee-can?” “Pih-cahn?” “Pih-can?”) Pecan pie. Pecans in a cake. Chocolate-covered pecans. Normal Pecans. Pecan pie. Pecan pie. Pecan pie.  I ate a lot of pecans.

5. Tastee Donuts (no I did not spell this wrong – it is an actual business name).

My fabulous Aunt & Uncle from N’awlins brought a dozen of these mouth-watering buttermilk beauties.  And I ate most of them.  There may or may not have been a large amount of crumbs in my bed (I like to think I have a sleep walking disorder – except I eat instead of walk).

6. Cracker Barrel.

Wednesday morning: Cracker Barrel.  Thursday night: Cracker Barrel (or as I like to call it, Thanksgiving Round 2).  Because it’s completely necessary to fit in grits, bacon, eggs, cornbread, biscuits, bites of pancakes from my brother’s plate, bites of french toast from my other brother’s plate, and another piece of cornbread soaked in maple syrup (because that’s not disgusting or anything).  It was Thanksgiving week – I believe in celebrating it for a full seven days.

7. Sweet Potatoes.

I sampled (well, heaped) about five different sweet potato dishes onto my styrofoam plate.  I needed to get in my “healthy” dish(es).  Nevermind that most of them had as much sugar as a birthday cake.  It’s a vegetable!  Healthy!  Calories don’t count!  As I sauntered down the line, I was about to dish out another scoop of yammies when I heard a crack from the “plate.”  This was my cue to sit down and eat round 1 before it fell to the floor.  Though there’s a good possibility I would have just squatted and used the hardwood as my new plate.  Five second rule, right?

8. Coleslaw & Crackers.

For those of you from the northern half of our country, this combo may seem odd.  In fact, I’ve never eaten coleslaw & crackers anywhere but the south.  It’s basically the equivelent of a restaurant setting out bread and butter for the table.  But it’s mouth-watering and delicious and addicting and fabulous and unforgettable and awesome and amazing and phenomenal and delectable.  The only problem is that they set out enough coleslaw and crackers to feed the entire table.  And I often find myself consuming most of it. Enter another layer of FUPA.

9. Chocolate.

My Aunt has a secret chocolate pie recipe.  I suspect she injects crack.  It doesn’t matter if I’ve already had to unbutton my pants and resume a regular pattern of labor-breathing.  The second that pie passes into my line of vision, I make a beeline for a plate and fork, and within, oh, about a minute, the pie is demolished.  And I want more.  Drug pushing enabler.  Gah.

10. Sweet Tea.

Diet tea made with splenda doesn’t count (unless you’re a diabetic, then PLEASE choose that option…because southern sweet tea will absolutely induce a diabetic coma).  Like the crack pie, I have concluded that this beverage contains a portion of crack.  It’s sweet and sticky and refreshing, and pretends to quench your thirst, but really all it’s doing is priming you to crave more.  It’s the cycle of doom.  I’m just grateful that McDonald’s is the only place north of the Mason Dixon line that sells it – and it’s just not the same.

I hope you all had a fabulous Thanksgiving.  And by that, I mean I hope you licked your plate clean like yours truly.  Because Thanksgiving isn’t the same if you have to eat like a rabbit.  Worried about fitting into that little black dress?  Meh – buy one with stretchy fabric.  Easy breezy lemon squeezy.

Lesson of the day: if you are ever in the South, partake in all of the above.  Side effects include FUPA, bloating, unnecessary gas, too-tight jeans, and the inability to stop eating. 

And it’s so worth it.

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