what we ate, who we are

Reading: what we ate, who we are

what we ate, who we are

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.

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We also celebrated cousin Bob’s birthday, spent most of the week piled on top of each other, and jostled each other for food.

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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.

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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).