July 25, 2005

It is I, Faustus. I have returned.

I was away for two weeks at what I can best describe as an artists’ colony; the work my collaborator and I did there went very well.

Then I flew to North Carolina for a week-long top-secret mission.

I knew I was in North Carolina when, for dinner the first night, I was served chicken-fried steak, mashed potatoes, and fruit salad with maraschino cherries and little marshmallows in it.

Let me assure you that I don’t need to be reminded of the reasons I left the South.

But if I did, this sure would have helped.

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15 Responses to It is I, Faustus. I

  1. tim says:

    Oh my god. That meal sounds awesome. I’m so homesick for the south. I would kill a man for a really big glass of sweet tea and a meal where all of the nutrition has been cooked out of the food. Mmmmm… Fried goodness.

    Welcome back.

  2. Monica says:

    But did the salad have mandarin oranges?
    A friend and I once did a home cookin’ feast for a themed reading, and sent her husband (who normally does the cooking in their house) to the grocery store–he kept calling every five minutes, to ask, “What the hell are mandarin oranges?” and “What do I do if someone I know sees me buying this crap?”. His biggest beef, however, was that everything on the list was in cans–

  3. Jeff says:

    My dear, the Special Guest Stars® you arranged for your absence were uniformly amusing and witty, but it is nice to have the Doctor back in the house.

    Marshmallows… are those even real food?

  4. Lauren says:

    Oh, yay.

    I still think you should have let me kidnap you.

  5. Jess says:

    Yay! He’s back!!!

    Welcome back, hon. We missed you!

  6. Steve says:

    Your pith has been mithed.

  7. David says:

    Ugh, a week with that menu. Are you fat now?

  8. Logan says:

    Now’d be the inopportune time for me to mention that I’m at the moment eating chicken-fried steak and mashed potatoes. While at the computer, even.

    This isn’t North Carolina, but your reasoning just became astoundingly clear.

  9. Chris says:

    I was thisclose to emailing you to beg you to return. Huzzah!

    Don’t knock the chicken fried steak. The fruit salad you can diss all you want, but don’t say bad things about chicken fried steak.

  10. Frank says:

    WTF is chicken-fried steak? Forgive me, I’m Australian and it’s not something I’ve ever heard of before.

  11. Glenn says:

    How can someone not love chicken fried steak? A round steak pounded flat, covered in batter, fried, then topped with cream gravy?

    Oh. Fat. Lots of fat.

  12. campbell says:

    Welcome back, dear. Your substitutes were fine but you were missed.

  13. Brian says:

    My God, that meal makes me want to move to the South!

  14. Mushlette says:

    It’s really amazing the things that can be called “salad.” I realize the word means mess, but it’s come to symbolize healthy roughage. Nothing with marshmallows in it counts as roughage.

    And welcome back, Doctor!

  15. James says:

    Welcome back!

    Your restaurant experience reminds me of a place I ate at on my last trip to Arkansas: the fruit salad was ENTIRELY maraschino cherries and (stale) miniature marshmallows. And the tea (damn me for forgetting to specify “unsweetened”) was so supersaturated with sugar that it began to fall out of solution and collect at the bottom of my glass.


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