Grits, done well, are creamy, warm, buttery, salty and good. It is warm and filling. Just what a soul needs to get through the day. I know it's not the most popular menu item for many. When grits are done poorly, not even Pastor Silvertongue of the Church of Grits can extend high praise to a bowl of reconstituted sandpaper. Grits should prepared low and slow, just like the back of the package says. But make sure you add plenty of salt and butter. The finished result should be a hybrid of smooth risotto to firm polenta. A good spoonful of grits is like a tiny mound of corn flavored molecule shaped pasta. Though it is not pasta, it actually comes from a lye-processed corn called hominy. A harder type of corn whose husks must be removed in order for the corn to be edible. Kind of similar to how life has to beat the stubborn rind off of us to see the truth of who we are and give ourselves permission to expand our authenticity and give it to the world.
I'll be headed to grits country this weekend. I'll be giving hugs and taking moments to say my forever good bye to a very important person. Later on, I'll be stopping to smell the culinary roses. In this case, it will be a bowl of humble grits with sad butter and tearful salt; warm, dense and restorative.
Monday, it will be time to get back on the ball and keep the momentum going with our culinary studies. Thanks again for your comments, well wishes and patience.
With Love,
Michelle
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