I grew up in the South, but have Yankee blood running through me. Yes, that makes me a damn Yankee (one who came South and won’t leave). Growing up in the South gave me a certain appreciation for most things southern, particularly cuisine. I love me some biscuits, homemade chicken and dumplings, barbecue (Eastern NC style, specifically – is there really any other acceptable kind?!) and sweet tea. The hubby was born in Atlanta, grew up in NC and has family roots in Tennessee, so there is no escaping the southerness in his blood line.
Well, apparently I did not pass much New England to the peanut. He recently ate his weight in biscuits while we were in NC. He chowed down on the barbecue I made this week two nights in a row (and this kid has a thing about eating “leftovers” – I don’t know how he knows they are leftovers, but he tends to shun whatever it was that he gobbled up the night before, particularly in the meat category). And just now, while trying to catch Kim Raver on Rachel Ray while peanut was playing with every toy he owns, he stopped, looked at the TV (please don’t call the AAP on me) and said “YUMMY” with great enthusiasm to the Piccadilly commercial.
Looks like I better get to work on some New England treats for this kid – clam chowder, Boston cream pie, Gray’s coffee ice cream, Boston baked beans…
Well, knowing this kid, I better hold off on the beans.