Gentlemen. Start Your Arteries!

When Lorraine and her family were up here during the 4th of July holidays, we had a “trailer trash” themed party that featured deep-fried Twinkies for dessert. They were incredible good, even though I could only eat about half of one. (They were served with whipped cream and chocolate sauce).

Now then. My friend, Liane, has a friend who’s visiting the State Fair of Texas in Dallas this week which is the birthplace of the corn dog. Texans love to fry things. Everything. A popular style of cooking in Texas is to “chicken-fry” something. In other words, to fry a food item like you would fried chicken.

Liane’s friend reported some of the food items that are being fried down there at the State Fair. All these items sounded familiar to me.
Are you ready for this?
You sure?

Here’s chicken-fried bacon with a side of cream gravy (made from the drippins)

And here is chicken-fried macaroni & cheese. (It would probably be better with cream gravy)
Deep-fried Coca-Cola is a big favorite down there. It’s a funnel cake made with Coke and has Coke syrup drizzled on top. Oh, and whipped cream.
Other items include:

Deep fried cheese cake

Deep fried sweet potato pie

Deep fried banana pudding (place banana pudding in a tortilla, roll it up and deep fry it)

Chicken-fried guacamole. Served with cheese sauce and jalapenos no less.

I’ve even heard there’s deep fried Cosmopolitans, but I’ve never seen one of those.

I think the deep-frying craze has definitely run amok.

It all started way back in the day when all Texans were poor folks, worked all day in the fields and needed calories to sustain themselves. Mama had a cheap piece of meat, lots of bacon drippings, flour, and lots of hungry tummies to fill up. She ingeniously fried it like chicken.

We don’t need to be doing this anymore.

We don’t work in the fields. We stop by drive-thru’s and don’t even get out of the car to procure our food. Or we have it delivered. Hell, we don’t even get up to change the channel while watching six hours of TV every night. On our butts.

For the past few days, I've been meaning to cancel my gym membership, but I've been too lazy to take the elevator downstairs to do so.

Now, THAT is sad!

I think I'll keep it and start working out again. Especially after writing this.
But not tonight. “The Office” is on and I’ve got leftover pizza in the fridge.