Our Thanksgiving week kicked off the way any good Charleston celebration should — with a big family meal at the Hominy Grill. Note that I am not the only person who obsessively takes photos of food and menus; we are passing our skills on to the next generation, too.
I was a big fan of the fried oyster and liver pudding po’ boy and the bread pudding, which was decadent without being overly rich. Oh, and later in the week we found a little spot for some freshly-steamed Folly Beach oysters.
We also celebrated cousin Bob’s birthday, spent most of the week piled on top of each other, and jostled each other for food.
And oh — the food. Fried turkey. Two hams. Egg rolls. Once there’s a vat of bubbling oil and shortening in your backyard, it’s only a short trip to let the imagination run wild as to what else can be deep-fried.
And don’t forget the post-meal football. We’re starting our guys early (in hopes that mine, at least, hasn’t inherited my total lack of athletic ability).
That is the kind of impact Paul Violi had on people. What an honor to have known him, and what fun, too.