The New Southerner 30 is Real, Y’all

When you relocate to the South from the Northeast, your relationship with food changes almost immediately.

In the Empire State, we love our carbs. It’s pizza, bagels, BECs (bacon, egg, and cheese sandwiches on hard rolls, for the uninitiated), subs, and pasta.

(By the way, if anyone knows where I can get actual hard rolls in the South, please email me. I’ll drive a great distance. I’ve looked for nearly three decades with no luck.)

Sure, the above list won’t exactly put you on your doctor’s Christmas card list, but when you move South, it all goes up a notch, or 12.

The first thing you notice is that every social occasion (and I mean every social occasion) has food in a starring role. And we’re not talking about finger foods. We’re talking cruise-ship-worthy buffets.

Thanks for coming to our Bible study group, Mark. Help yourself to a rack of ribs, some mac and cheese, and some potato salad. Here’s a pile of Texas toast and, of course, a seven-layer cake and a little bit of cheesecake. We’re sorry it’s not more, but as you know, this was last-minute.

Thanks. It’s so delicious. Don’t worry about that noise you hear. It’s just my arteries clogging.

And it’s not just the food. Definitions of food types change.

In the Northeast, when someone says they’re going to have a barbecue, that means a gathering with a grill, hamburgers, hot dogs, maybe some corn on the cob, potato chips, adult beverages, and, if you grew up in my family, Wiffle ball or kickball with some cousins or some time in a pool.

During one of my first Football Fridays at The Jackson Sun (there’ll be a column about Football Fridays at a later date), someone said they were going to order some barbecue and asked if I’d like any. I’ve always been a fan of burgers and dogs, so I said, “Sure.”

Colleague: What do you want?

Me: I’ll just take a burger and a hot dog.

(Uproarious laughter from the entire sports department.)

Colleague: No, Spoor. It’s BARBECUE. You know, pulled pork, ribs, mac and cheese, chicken ...

Me: Oh, sure. I knew that. I’ll take some chicken.

Colleague: Ugh, Yankee!

Since that day, I have loved barbecue. And so has my wife. In fact, it was all she craved while she was pregnant with our daughter. We had barbecue for 13 nights in a row. And we both loved it.

And can we talk about the biscuits? In the Northeast, biscuits are what you put strawberries and whipped cream on when you want strawberry shortcake. In the South, they’re a food group, suitable for breakfast, lunch, and dinner.

And they’re amazing.

In the South, while the food is heavy, fried, calorie-laden, and largely (but not totally) unhealthy, I have learned through the years that it’s also a Southerner’s way of showing love. You can almost taste it. It’s why I never say no when a Southerner offers me food, even if I’ve just eaten. It would be like refusing a hug.

Now, for any Northerners who are thinking of relocating or have just relocated, all this love of Southern cuisine comes with a bit of a warning. Remember the Freshman 15 in college? Beware of the New Southerner 30.

It’s coming. Just have the treadmill ready and a personal trainer’s number in your phone.