[StBernard] MY SOUTH

[Westley Annis]

My South 

(Robert St. John, executive chef and owner of the Purple Parrot Cafe,
Crescent City Grill and Mahogany Bar of Hattiesburg, MS. He writes a column
in the Hattiesburg American)


Thirty years ago I visited my first cousin in Virginia. While hanging out
with his friend, the discussion turned to popular movies of the day. 

When I offered my two-cents on the authenticity and social relevance of the
movie Billy Jack, one of the boys asked, in all seriousness; 'Do you guys
have movie theaters down there?' To which I replied, 'Yep. We wear shoes
too.' 

Just three years ago, my wife and I were attending a food and wine seminar
in Aspen, Colorado. We were seated with two couples from Las Vegas. One of
the Glitter Gulch gals was amused and downright rude when I described our
restaurant as a fine-dining restaurant. 'Mississippi doesn't have
fine-dining restaurants!' she insisted and nudged her companion. I fought
back the strong desire to mention that she lived in the land that invented
the 99-cent breakfast buffet. 

I wanted badly to defend my state, my region, and my restaurant with a
15-minute soliloquy and public relations rant that would surely change her
mind. It was at that precise moment that I was hit with a blinding jolt of
enlightenment, and in a moment of complete and absolute clarity it dawned on
me -- my South is the best-kept secret in the country. Why would I try to
win this woman over? She might move down here. 

I am always amused by Hollywood's interpretation of the South. We are still,
on occasion, depicted as a collective group of sweaty, stupid,
backwards-minded, racist rednecks. The South of movies and TV, the Hollywood
South, is not my South. 

This is my South: 

My South is full of honest, hardworking people. 

 

My South is the birthplace of blues and jazz, and rock n' roll. It has banjo
pickers and fiddle players, but it also has BB King, Muddy Waters, the
Allman Brothers, Emmylou Harris and Elvis. 

My South is hot. My South smells of newly mowed grass. My South was kick the
can, creek swimming, cane-pole fishing and bird hunting. 

In my South, football is king, and the Southeastern Conference is the
kingdom. 

My South is home to the most beautiful women on the planet. 

In my South, soul food and country cooking are the same thing. 

My South is full of fig preserves, cornbread, butter beans, fried chicken,
grits and catfish. 

In my South, our transistor radios introduced us to the Beatles and the
Rolling Stones at the same time they were introduced to the rest of the
country. 

In my South, grandmothers cook a big lunch every Sunday, so big that we call
it dinner (supper comes later). 

In my South, family matters, deeply. 

My South is boiled shrimp, blackberry cobbler, peach ice cream, banana
pudding and cream pies. 

In my South people put peanuts in bottles of Coca-Cola and hot sauce on
almost everything. 

In my South the tea is iced and almost as sweet as the women. My South has
air-conditioning. 

My South is camellias, azaleas, wisteria and hydrangeas.


In my South, the only person that has to sit on the back of the bus is the
last person that got on the bus. 


In my South, people still say 'Yes, ma'am,' 'No ma'am,' 'Please' and 'Thank
you.' 

In my South, we all wear shoes....most of the time. 

My South is the best-kept secret in the country. 



Please continue to keep the secret....it keeps the idiots away.