Sacraligi-Fried

The other day was Valentines Day. I did not have real one or at least no volunteers. Sure, I had the wishes for a happy V-day, but that is another story. Not to mention the murderous vicar St. Valentine was not my idea of the kind of man that should be venerated by holiday.

Any who, son spent the day with his mom and aunt. I have truly raised a fine young man. So I pick up baby girl from the sitter and head for the house. I was already as usual, hungry than a motherfucker. I start peeling some potatoes and stewing them in a skillet and cooking some green beans and Crowder peas. Next, I pulled out that black cast iron skillet my mom gave me and loaded it with Crisco. I had seasoned the pork chops that morning when I was coking breakfast. I cooked breakfast every morning because I noticed it is a lot easier to get my son out of the bed with the smell of bacon than with my voice.

So as I start to fry the pork chops, I can only smile as the aroma saturates the air. Lil Momma is right up under me, so I have to leave the kitchen because she will grunt incessantly as food cooks until I give her something to put in her mouth. When all is ready, I realize that there is no bread in the house. I am like severely disturbed at this time, because what is the use of having any fried food – especially pork chops and or chicken, when you have no bread. So I did not worry, I went and looked on the side of the refrigerator where I knew I had stashed a loaf of white bread. But it was gone too. It was sacrilegious for me to have all that good food, and meat soaked up with hot sauce, and no bread, not even white bread to sop up the hot sauce and pot liquor with. So I say this just to point out, always have bread in the crib, especially if u a meat eating, hot saucing, house shoe wearing country boy as my self - anything else would be sacraligi-Fried.