Now, I’m sure there are a lot of people out there who’ve never had the pleasure of eating at a Waffle Castle, so let me just tell you a little sum-um about them. Waffle Castle is an open 24 hour a day, completely filthy, lowbrow greasy spoon that is first choice of dining for every drunk, slob, dirt-bag, clinically obese, ignorant, chain-smoking redneck, and all-in-all general assholes in the Southern U.S. It’s the Mecca of What-the-fuck! So, of course, like all good white trash from Alabama does, we had breakfast, lunch, and dinner at a Waffle Castle the first day of our trip. Then after our over-night in Kentucky, we had it again for breakfast and then again for lunch. We would’ve even had it again for dinner that evening but we ended up eating at a Burger King due to my mama’s refusal to eat at a Waffle Castle again. That, and her also threatening to divorce …show more content…
when we’d finally arrived in Mt. Harrison, and I have to say I couldn’t have been happier to finally arrive. I wasn’t just excited about seeing the new house that we’d be living in (By that point my mama had told me a little about the house she’d grown up in and of the village of Mt. Harrison. From what I had taken from it was that the place was enormous, the house that is. Well, at the very least it was a hell-of-a-lot bigger than the two-bedroom ranch we’d been forced to live in back in Alabama. She had also mentioned to me that it sat atop of six acres of our own land. That the property also flanked more than thirty square miles of state forest which was part of Letchworth State Park.) but I could have screamed if I had to spend even one more minute folded up in that backseat. My ass had grown thoroughly numb more than seventy miles back, and I had to pee. Besides that, by the end of the trip, my Step Daddy Cade had started smelling like a stale, rank fart wrapped in a rotten skunk anus because he had decided to skip a shower at the prestigious Trail-blazer Motor
told my own mother not to call me Mariette but Miss Marietta, as I had to call all the people including children in the houses where she
Our young, unnamed narrator sets the tone by describing his home, which is his grandfather's dirty, yellow, big-framed house. He also notes why his mother hated it. They had fleas, she said. He goes on to render how the people of Jonesville-on-the-Grande became in sync with the routine on the post at Fort Jones. At eight, the whistle from the post laundry sent our children off to school.
Founded by S. Truett Cathy in the Atlanta suburb Hapeville, Chick-fil-A is a Southern restaurant by all means as its origin is in the South. But to qualify the eatery as authentically Southern, one has to examine more than just origin or where the founder was from. The late Truett Cathy, founder of Chick-fil-A, said “We should be about more than just selling chicken. We should be a part of our customers’ lives and the communities in which we serve.” This ideal, and those like it, is what illustrates Chick-fil-A’s Southern identity. This particular restaurant presents itself as authentically Southern in how it never compromises family, provides a certain “Southern hospitality” not many other places do, and holds onto Bible Belt values in trying
As a kid going to southern Indiana for my family's weekend reunion in the middle of July seemed to be a stress-free heaven. Talking with family while eating all of the great food everyone made, and awesome fishing in the glistening pond served as a retreat from the textbooks, homework, and tests in school. Although I never did any reading, writing, or math at the reunion, I learned some of the most valuable lessons at that 50-acre property in the dog days of summer. My great uncle, who owned the pond, taught me the best fishing spots, my dad taught me how to set up a tent, and my uncle Vance taught me the great values of our family between old folk songs. It was from these stories that I developed a great sense of pride in my family.
...hew Banks looked around for the creature belonging to the voice and found her sitting lazily on a rickety cane backed chair behind the counter with a long filtered cigarette dangling loosely from her lips. She stood up with an audible effort. She was dressed in a large, flowered sleeveless smock that long ago had seen better days. The raw boned woman reminded him of the pictures he’d seen of Appalachian type families although right now he couldn’t recall whether it was in the Ozark Mountains or somewhere in Kentucky. Her deeply weathered skin clearly got that way from spending her youth in the blazing Texas sun. Matt credited the coarseness in her voice to untold packs of cigarettes she had smoked, and with more than just a nip or two of cheap whiskey. Wrinkles covered her face like a creased old buckskin coat tossed in a pile on the closet floor for too long.
The time spent there became more about meeting family friends and going to dinners. Almost four years passed before I returned to the memory of getting lost in those woods. It was a week before the start to my junior year of high school, and I was visiting my grandparents in Virginia. One morning, after a very early breakfast and a promise to return promptly, I walked outside toward the woods. I walked aimlessly, remembering the similar trips I used to make in the forest upstate. I saw a young kid, eager to dirty his hands with exploration of the tangible world. I was older now, and my summer had been spent exploring a possible career path by interning at a financial services firm. A sudden thought crept slowly into my mind, piecing itself together before my
O’brien, who fought in the Vietnam war, re visited the battle ground twenty years later. He didn’t go alone, he took his ten year old daughter Kathleen with him. They went on this trip as a gift to her from him (she had just turned ten). “I’d wanted to take my daughter to the places I’d seen as a soldier.”, he said. He also wanted her to see the world. A ten year old probably wouldn’t enjoy most of the trip. Although “she’d held up well”. Kathleen was getting restless saying stuff like, “I think this place stinks… it smells rotten”. She go back and forth to him and the jeep. She wasn’t necessarily
The fall rain pounded against the almost opaque window of the car or the miserable excuse of one they were driving. The fall leaves scattered across the highway made a satisfying crunch as the car scuttled away to its next destination. Inside John was getting vexed by the crappiness of the ride, driving the car with one hand and trying to massage his aching back with the other. The already uncomfortable seat paired with the seemingly endless amount of potholes made the idea of a proper ride seem almost as plausible as a cure. Thinking back to the time when he rode his Harley—its smooth leather seat, the roar of the engine, and the wind in his face— he, as he often times would, began to linger in memories of the past. Meanwhile, in the backseat,
The Cheesecake Factory brings authenticity to many people around the world. It began from a 1940s newspaper recipe, that later turned into a dream. Accomplished by a woman and her family with desires to succeed in their business. At The Cheesecake Factory Incorporated majority of their employees say it’s a great workplace. It is known for it’s tasty cheesecakes and it’s enticing meals. The Cheesecake Factory is not just an amazing place to dine at for their pastry, but their restaurants cuisine is highly favored.
On a humid afternoon in Georgia as you peacefully rock in your rocking chair you are approached with the irresistible scent of fresh barbecue, and sweet hickory chips. As the scent lingers on, you can’t help but crave a plate of this comfort food. To those in America, this is known as Barbecue. Barbecue has been a staple food of the south for as long as anyone can recall. Not only does barbecue taste good but it helps bring people together to enjoy a special occasion or to just have dinner together. In this essay I will give a general definition of barbecue, tell a brief history on it, discuss the various styles of it, and explain why it’s so popular in the South.
After stumbling upstairs I go to the computer and turn on Da Yoopers’ “Da turdy Point Buck”, the song our family must listen to before we head out the door and into the woods. With the song blaring through the house, I walk into my brother’s room, turn the lights on, rip the covers from his bed, and narrowly escape a swift kick from his leg. After a breakfast of pancakes my brother and I jump into his truck and head for the hills. We own 120 acres three miles from the house, so we must drive to our destination. Any other morning there would be no vehicles on the road, but this particular morning we pass about ten other trucks all taking their passengers to their particular hunting spots.
It is a Saturday night and it is time for a late night snack. Is the first thing on your mind ice cream? Who does not like Ice cream? The best late night snack ever, think about it tastes delicious. First of all, ice cream tastes better than any other sweet treat. What food could compete with this creamy smoothness, or the delicious feeling of this soft, cold treat as it meets your taste buds? Don’t know of any other food that feels as good. With Talenti they have so many mouth-watering flavors 33 to be exact. In today’s world you can even get ice cream that’s protein, as the soy ice creams have. So Ice cream is really good. Secondly, while it might not yet be a complete ideal healthy snack, it can be served after every suppertime for everyone likes it. It can be a common thread between strangers. Ice cream can be a healthy treat because it is delicious, it comes in many flavors, and it can be eaten in ways; but, eating too much ice cream can make you fat.
The ruckus from the bottom of the truck is unbearable, because of the noise and excessive shaking. As we slowly climbed the mountain road to reach our lovely cabin, it seemed almost impossible to reach the top, but every time we reached it safely. The rocks and deep potholes shook the truck and the people in it, like a paint mixer. Every window in the truck was rolled down so we could have some leverage to hold on and not loose our grip we needed so greatly. The fresh clean mountain air entered the truck; it smelt as if we were lost: nowhere close to home. It was a feeling of relief to get away from all the problems at home. The road was deeply covered with huge pines and baby aspen trees. Closely examining the surrounding, it looks as if it did the last time we were up here.
One of the highest authorities in the land of the American States United is the Original Pancake House; after all, they are the "ORIGINAL" house of pancakes, unlike some international versions you may see elsewhere. Their statement on the application of toppings is thus: "Thanks to the little square grid on both sides, you’ll never have any runoff of butter or syrup. The grid design, according to waffle junkies, makes them more acceptable for formal breakfast occasions. Sure, pancakes can soak it in, but most of the time, it ends up being a sticky mess!" ("Breakfast Face Off") If the original PANCAKE house favors waffles in this manner, surely all pancake lovers must convert to the great religion that is
This area of the world is so foreign to my Oklahoma life; it infuses me with awe, and with an eerie feeling of being strongly enclosed by huge mountains, and the mass of tall trees. However, when my foot first steps onto the dusty trail it feels crazily magical. The clean, crisp air, the new smell of evergreen trees and freshly fallen rain is mixed with fragrances I can only guess at. It is like the world has just taken a steroid of enchantment! I take it all in, and embrace this new place before it leaves like a dream and reality robs the moment. As I turn and look at my family, I was caught by my reflection in their impressions. The hair raising mischief in the car was forgotten and now it was time to be caught up in this newness of life. It was as if the whole world around us had changed and everyone was ready to engulf themselves in it. The trickling of water somewhere in the distance and the faint noise of animals all brought the mountains to