The nitty "grit"-y solution to culture shock.

As many readers may know, I was born in Boston and raised in Charlotte, North Carolina. Though I am the product of a Yankee family, spending most of my life in the Upper South rubbed off on me a bit. For example, if I mishear someone, I will often respond with "Huh?" as opposed to "Pardon?". Nobody in Massachusetts says "Huh?". Trust me.

Upon moving to Madison, Wisconsin, I knew I would have to give up a few Southern Comforts. Wisconsin doesn't have an IKEA or an Off Broadway Shoe Warehouse. Also, while there are 38 Cracker Barrels in the state of North Carolina, there are only 5 in the state of Wisconsin. They're trying to limit my access to corn muffins and kitschy seasonal decor, aren't they?

Another comfort that I thought I would have to give up is grits. I am not exactly sure how I developed my love for grits, but I've eaten them regularly for many years, despite the fact that my mother calls them "wallpaper paste." I have lived in Wisconsin for almost 4 months, and despite conscious efforts, I had yet to find grits. Tonight, I struck gold at Woodman's Foods, where I discovered a wide selection of grits. Jackpot!

Phoebe, also a Southern girl, was quite excited about the grits.

For last month's in-depth post on Woodman's Foods, click here.