Pour Some Sugar on Me

Reading a magazine while waiting for the dentist helps keep my mind off what is about to happen when I have to go back into that tiny bright room and let the dentist start drilling on my teeth. I read any magazine that they have tossed on the waiting area table. Today it was Southern Living.

One of the articles about cooking mentioned that the “holy trinity” of southern cooking is (1) sugar, (2) butter and (3) salt. I think they got that right. We use all three of those thing very liberally when we cook anything here in the south. And we fry just about everything, too. We fry Oreos, hot dogs, cheese, and even sticks of butter and sell that crap at the county fairs. We fry pancake batter and dust it with powdered sugar and call it funnel cakes. We sell paper plates piled high with funnel cakes and sugar at every hockey game, football game, wrestling match and tractor pull anywhere in the state.

I’m a big fan of sugar – white sugar, brown sugar, powdered sugar – you name it and I love that shit. Which is why I am sitting in the dentist office waiting area right now waiting for the dentist to fix my damn teeth. When he starts preaching to me about cutting back on sugar, my eyes just glass over and I force a smile and nod my head. But I’m not giving up my sugar.

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