I got back from the Southern Foodways Alliance’s annual Symposium, where the focus this year was on the “cultivated South.” And this is what I did:
- I hung out with a poet who knows how to spin verses on deviled eggs.
- I tasted the first olive oil produced east of the Mississippi in over a hundred years.
- I watched an opera. An opera about collard greens.
- I drank a Manhattan with the country’s leading cocktail authority.
- I ate a foot-long, heirloom radish.
- I made a hard apple cider float, with great cider from Foggy Ridge in Virginia and freshly made vanilla ice milk.
- I learned about the growth of community gardens in the parking lots of Atlanta.
- I helped raise $270,000 from some amazing generous individuals.
- I sang “Scenes from an Italian Restaurant” with an owner of a popsicle shop.
- I sipped punch from a bathtub.
- I had lunch with the original publisher of Spin magazine.
- I ate a slice of wild boar prosciutto.
- I saw an amazing set of food-themed photographs from an incredibly talented young lady.
- I snacked on boiled peanuts while watching a film about, what else, boiled peanuts.
- I tasted far too many different bourbons than I can remember.
- I had some of the best fried chicken, while staring in awe at the customer beside me who devoured 8 pieces in 10 minutes.
- I took home a packet of pimento seeds, which I will plant in the spring.
- I sadly learned about the demise of the native mirliton, but also was happily informed of one man’s quest to bring it back.
- I spooned fig and bourbon preserves onto a country ham biscuit, confirming a match made in Southern heaven.
- I rode on a school bus with a woman who wore a different Elvis t-shirt every day.
- I had lunch with a fishmonger who brings seafood from the Gulf of Mexico to the West Coast.
- I discovered that people will come up with crazy variations on common games, such as “Sexual Jenga.” And no, I did not play it.
- I realized that I would like to have a bento box for lunch every day.
- I smiled after a talented friend “blinged up” my name tag with Hello Kitty stickers (and more).
- I chatted with one of the best chefs in the Triangle, only to learn that our families are from the same neck of the woods.
- I was proven wrong: someone does make a good fried pickle.
That’s what I did this weekend, and this was just the tip of the iceberg. What did you do?
Posted by Varmint 
New Orleans, oh, sweet New Orleans. There’s something about this town that whenever I visit, it pulls me closer to its heart, and a very large heart it has. For reasons I really can’t explain, I never visited this iconic city until I was 40, but I’ve now been here nearly half a dozen times in the past few years. I love everything about New Orleans — the people, the food, the music, the art, the architecture. This is a town with a grand and profound soul, and despite the historic tragedies it has had to endure, the setbacks have helped that spirit grow. I can finally say that I “get” New Orleans, its people, and its food. After my first couple of visits, I actually thought that New Orleans was essentially a captive of its own cuisine; that innovation was sacrificed at the expense of traditionalism. That may have been true, and if it were, the people of New Orleans would have just said, “Who gives a damn?” I now understand that attitude, and once I embraced New Orleans’ gastronomic history, I fell in love with the cuisine. I appreciate the freshness of the shrimp in a 
Whenever I’m getting ready to attend a 
