It's all a Mush!

The first time I ever really experienced Southern culture was just a couple months ago when Atlanta became my new home. The food was something that struck me quite a bit-- everything seemed incredibly "mushy," for lack of a better choice of words. And I noticed there was yummy mushy food, and really yucky mushy food. As far as pleasing to the taste buds and stomach goes, I would dare include the infinite amounts of casseroles the South is so famous--broccoli, green beans, cauliflower, sweet potato, mac and cheese, corn, etc, etc. How could I forget grits? Then there's turkey, and with turkey must come gravy. And with gravy and turkey, there must be mashed potatoes. That was probably one of the best meals I've ever tasted in my entire life here in the States. But then there's the oh-so-not pleasing food, the one that looks to me like a huge pile of mush. Under that category, I'd have to include chicken and dumplings, and the infamous chicken pot pie. The first time I ever tried, I was appalled. There were biscuits, carrots, peas, onions, celery, chicken, sauce, and black pepper-- but that was only what was visible. Who knows what else this had to give it such interesting texture, a mix of dry and wet, of sweet and sour, of warmth and cold. There are no words to describe what I felt with such a tiny a bite, but the memories are alive as could be.
Overall, Southern food never ceases to amaze me. So every time someone asks me for an opinion of this food, I have mixed emotions. I remember the heartwarming bread with a piece of butter melting on top, the cheesy grits and casseroles; but most importantly I remember the atmosphere I ate in-- warm, cozy, relaxing; I guess that's what Southern hospitality is all about. But then I also remember that mush, and that my friends, is of no good. Perhaps one day I'll learn to appreciate chicken pot pie like every one else seems to. But as of right now, I'll stick with the safe side.