OK, I knew grits was some sort of corn gruel. Like porridge.
But I did not know that people in North America actually love this stuff. So much so, that once a year on April 14 they throw away all their inhibitions and get down and dirty in a frenzied celebration of corn gruel. Maybe when they've smeared it all over their bodies they chuck it at each other like La Tomatina.
You can tell I am jealous. I want the English to do this. Can't we have Scone Day? When all the English bake scones then hurl them at their neighbours?
But it would all go horribly wrong here, wouldn't it? Working class scones would be made with water, and upper class scones with egg, which would mean the appointment of a Scone Committee to ensure rules of fair play. They would declare only upper plays against upper because upper scones are crumbly and do not dent on impact, whereas the oinks would cheat by concealing half an engineering brick in their dough to bring on the revolution.
Then of course the Ministry of Centralised Scone Throwing would get in on the act with all the healthandsafetygonemad, and you wouldn't be able to pick up a scone without having filled out in triplicate the Scone Risk Assessment Form, taken out special Scone Insurance, paid a £150 entrance fee, and entered all your details on a database run by Capita.
On the actual celebratory day we'd have cones and National Trust rope and the Scone Police on duty supervising everything, issuing on the spot fines for inappropriate throwing and loitering with uncooked dough.
It would be a total nightmare and all the fun would be taken out of it and that is just another straightforward and simple reason why I won't be voting Labour in the general election.
Anyway, I did a photo homage to Grits Day, the North American variety. Here is Squirrel, being told that Grits Day is not mama's blog, but a celebration of a delicious Southern foodstuff.
I hope they are happy with my loving gift to their nation.
Probably not. But in my experience, Grit's Day does not usually aim to please.
11 comments:
Your daughters face says it all - "Mother has finally gone mad."
Scone (as in 'stone'), or Scon or indeed (as Graeme Garden once suggested) Scun?
Class war
North/South divide
Very dangerous indeed
And anyway it's not inclusive of all our multi-cultural brothers and sisters. Far too reminiscent of Imperialism. And just think what message we would be sending to our children! Cholesterol! Disrespect of the family table! Fun!!!??? Just what would Gina Ford say about that? Go to the naughty step at once.
Remember The Goodies? They took this cream tea problem to its natural conclusion. But I'm fairly sure The Goodies would not be allowed anymore either. Actually they also did an episode about the state banning fun altogether I recall. Way ahead of their time they were. Bloody 'eroes.
Husband loves grits, will be disappointed he missed this. On a side note, daughter loves the catchy tune from the American Greetings link.
I'm up for a scone day, although I'm not sure my neighbours deserve something so nice being thrown at them!
Isn't there somewhere in the southwest that has a cheese rolling event? Or has this been banned on elf and safety regulations? Other than that you'll have to make do with the regular political bun-fights!
Actually not far from us there is an old tradition of throwing buns off a tower on special occasions year (see below excerpt from wiki). Not quite grits, but equally weird.
"A long-standing tradition of the town has local dignitaries throwing buns from the roof of the Abingdon County Hall Museum for crowds assembled in the market square on specific days of celebration (such as royal marriages, coronations and jubilees). The museum has a collection of the buns, dried and varnished, dating back to bun throwings of the 19th century. Since 2000, there have been bun-throwing ceremonies to commemorate the Millennium, the Golden Jubilee of Queen Elizabeth II in 2002 and the 450th anniverary of the town's being granted a Royal Charter in 2006."
i laughed heartily. i love grits (the hominy variety, and, in a completely different fashion, people with steely resolve, as in "true grit") but not enough to bathe in corn gruel or anything of the sort.
i also never even made a connection between your own blog "grits day" (which i took to be of the more rooster cogburn variety) and my favorite hominy-based breakfast cereal.
and are the brits really that bureaucratic? i always thought it was something the lads from monty python's were playing up for a hefty guffaw.
i caught that face just right kelly!
you are right mme sg.
scones = minefield.
my scones could blow your legs off.
i am a cheap charlatan, rachel. i have never actually tasted them. perhaps i might enjoy them cooked by a 5* chef who knows what he's doing.
yeah glowstars, let's do it! you can be campaign coordinator, and i'll take cover.
you are right sharon. i think they did ban it this year because it was too popular, the insurance was too high, and someone culd be hurt by falling cheese. they say they'll be back next year.
big mama, that is one museum i have just added to the MUSTDO list. i need to see those buns.
hi darth! i am secretly pleased you are not offended and did not bombard me with hate mail and progritpropaganda. Britain is awash with assessment risks, monitoring forms, target setting databases and other paper procedures. If you narrow your eyes you may even see the piles from your window.
Following on from the varnished bun museum I'm sure there's a pub in the London area that has hot cross buns from the last 100 years or so - a tradition started with a mother baking a hot cross bun for her son off in some war or another (really not sure of my dates here) as they were his favourite and she would still bake them in the hope he would one day be back to eat one (I think this was the story) - and the pub has kept up the tradition. I used to listen to BBCLondon (or GLR as it once was) before I moved out into the sticks and vaguely remember this from those old civilized days.....
Oh my gosh! Grits are like my favorite food in the world. I never made the connection before. How fabulous. My dear old uncle Albert used to take me for grits every morning when I visited him in Louisiana. Happy days. And as they say in Louisiana, your little chirren sure are precious, dahlin. You had a hard road, babe. We prayin for ya. (P.S. in Canada, we just order WAY too much dim sum.)
mme sg, i can see i will have to take the gritlets on an educational tour of old buns up and down england. i can sniff the eccentrics from here; they will lead the way.
kelly, i cannot believe you are not celebrating grits day every year with extra large helpings for breakfast. there must be something to this food that i am missing.
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