Word On Food

When the woman at the butcher counter asked Jimmy the Cutter, “do you have a nice butt?” Jimmy didn’t hesitate. “My wife kind of digs it,” he responded. The lady pushed her walker aside to get a better look at the pork in Jimmy’s case, pretending not to or really not hearing him.

When I was 19, I seemed to be on a yo-yo between my boyhood home in Northern Illinois and the place I was seeking…which almost always meant somewhere in the South. I wanted sunlight. I wanted warmth. I didn’t know that I wanted fried chicken too.

They're out there! Bursting through the black dirt fields even as I type, with a red-lipped lusciousness that only a woman as brazen as Mother Nature could muster or afford. If you were able to drive south these days (the town of Homestead, Florida specifically is ideal), but truly many places in Florida will work, you will be rewarded with a day where you can possibly re-visit your childhood and pick your own basket of strawberries.