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A few years ago, I wrote an essay called My South in response to comments made at a dinner in the north west. Their lack of knowledge about the South, My South, caused me to reflect on why I love where I live so much. Read the essay here .
Where is My South? It’s not a MapQuest location, a particular town, or a rural speck on the map. My South is deep in the hearts of all who hail from this amazingly abundant region. Polite and civilized.
My South is food— it’s breakfast, lunch, and supper, and dinner on Sundays. It’s sharing a meal with friends and loved ones at supper tables in North Carolina and white-tablecloth restaurants in Louisiana. It’s served on picnic tables in the mist-covered Smoky Mountains and spread on beach blankets near the warm salty waters of the Gulf of Mexico. My South is Georgia peaches and Louisiana strawberries; Tennessee-smoked pork and Mississippi-baked cakes; its Florida seafood and South Carolina barbeque, free-range poultry from Arkansas and Alabama jam.
My South is where we all gather to share a meal. It’s a neighbor coming over with a freshly baked pie when you’ve suffered a loss.
The Robert St. John store is where you will find some of those comfort foods (and cookbooks) kept secret in the South. Foods that bring back memories. Enjoy and remember ya'll come back soon.
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