A whole bunch of times now, a civilised debate/argument/hell-fire holy war has broken out on the Pajiba staff Slack chat. The heat of the passion involved can be quite often directly correlated to the question: ‘How much is that debate about food?’
Now, as we’re largely an American-staffed organisation, a lot of that talk often pertains to items of food that I have little to no information on—let alone real life experience. You can think of me (and my esteemed non-American colleagues) as looking a little bit like this during those times:
Which is why a recent Reddit thread caught my eye. Here, some highlights:
I’ve always felt like I needed Cajun in my life. I have no idea what it is or what’s in it, but it looks so good in movies. I don’t even know if you can get any of the ingredients or spices where I live, but I know I want it.
I came to Louisiana from Scotland, so my introduction to Cajun food started with a chicken and andouille sausage gumbo, then a crawfish boil. I stayed for the food, the women (I married one) and the weather. One hugely overlooked soul food is red beans and rice.
Chicken and waffles with maple syrup. Sounds so wrong but still I need to try this.
I work for a British company at the American office, and we frequently have visitors. Two 20-something’s in the office requested the following:
White Castle (sorry, just got Krystal’s)
“Good American barbecue”
They’ve also gone to a shooting range, played their first game of softball, will be attending their first Braves game tomorrow, and went to “Dan & Buster’s”.
Corndogs. I’m from Scotland and we have battered sausages aplenty from the chip shops, so I’d love to see how corndogs compare. Also they’re on a stick which I feel like we’re totally missing a trick with.
I grew up in Korea and moved to the US when I was 13. We didn’t eat a lot of meat in Korea but reading cartoons and whatnot, I always saw Americans eating giant steaks with a bone at the end. So it’s been my dearest wish to one day eat one. But I could never find one. I’ve had great steaks since. I have a sous vide machine and can make the tenderest medium rare (with a touch more to the rare side) ribeye with the perfect sear. So imagine my thrill when I walked into a store yesterday and beheld a steak of my dreams. It’s called cowboy steak or a tomahawk cut. At the earliest opportunity, I’m going to make it and eat it. I won’t need any knife or fork either. I’ll grab it by the bone and eat it just like in the cartoon.
As a Canadian, I hear about Po-Boys? Some sort of sandwich from the South, definitely would like to give it a try some day.
I want to go to an American state fair and eat everything in sight.
really keen for some good ol traditional Louisiana gumbo. Recipe sounds so difficult though and I haven’t come across it on menus here in Oz
Biscuits and gravy. I’ve seen pictures of it before… it’s not at all what I imagine when I hear ‘biscuits and gravy’ and I want to know what that is supposed to taste like.
A homemade, complete Thanksgiving dinner.
I’ve been to the states around that time and ate a Thanksgiving dinner, but it was a catering company serving food to over 1000 people. While it was not terrible, it was mostly bland and made of pre-prepared food. But it made me want to try a homemade one with roasted and stuffed turkey, gravy, real cranberry sauce, and that weird sweet potato with marshmallow thing.
Would love to go to New York, have a pizza, go to Chicago and have a pizza just so I can join the discussion of who has better pizza.
Grits. What in the world are grits? As a Canadian, I always thought that “grits” were the leftovers you have after eating at a restaurant. The stuff you take home in a “doggie bag”. Apparently I’m wrong.
All of the BBQ food.
Real, genuine BBQ. Barbecue in the UK is a sad affair of burnt sausages, unseasoned chicken, and miserable cheap beefburgers that taste of nothing.
It’s not a meal, or even a social event, it’s a stubborn determination to “enjoy the summer”, in fierce defiance of the fact that it is, in fact, overcast and possibly raining. There will be beer. It will be warm and have a dead wasp in it. At some point someone will suggest swingball, or possibly badminton without a net. Everyone pretends to be having a good time because “it’s a barbecue!”. It’s a bleedin’ ritual of uniquely British misery, is what it is.
Maybe I’ve just built up real American barbecues in my head too much. But they sound delicious. They sound fun.
Oh god, I have a list:
Apple Pie made by a small, white haired grandma from Georgia
Maine Lobster Roll
Chocolate chip cookies
Chicago Hot Dog
Biscuits n’ Gravy
Your apple pie should be made by a stoic grandmother from New England. The pecan pie should be made by a small, white haired grandma from Georgia.