Do you think Jack's even tried half the stuff they serve in the South? Biscuits with every meal, pickles on everthing, everything's fried, so much chicken and so much gravy. "There's no way that's healthy for you." "Shush up Mr. Zimmermann, I've seen you eat maple syrup off the ground."
[THIS IS HAPPENING. Jack is totally inundated with Southern food at the Bittle BBQ tomorrow, but I will make an attempt at this. Fair warning: I am from the west coast, so please forgive my ignorance]
Jack looked at the Bittle Family Fourth of July Barbecue buffet table with a dubious look. There was no way most of this would be allowed in any of the Falconers’ regular season diet, but thankfully that didn’t take effect until October, because he would feel beyond horrible after all the work that everyone put into building this buffet.
There was a slight nudge at his back, and Bittle was looking up at him with barely giggles dancing at the corners of his mouth.
Jack slowly started moving along the table behind one of Bittle’s cousins (He could not for the life of him remember the girl’s name. All of his cousins were tiny and blonde and hospitable. There were literally two other people without blonde hair in Bittle’s backyard).
There were a couple bowls of mashed potatoes, and a few bowls of salad and a few fruit trays that were nothing like the ones Jack normally saw at the supermarket. But after that? Jack sort of couldn’t tell all of the dishes apart?
There was a basket of rolls-”Biscuits, good Lord Jack, do not blaspheme on my home turf”- followed by a bowl of heavy looking white gravy. And then there was a platter of ham, followed by another bowl of a darker gravy. And then there were a few different plates of fried chicken and fried… something? It was probably meat, but Jack sort of ignored it.
And then there were purple peanuts, or at least he thought they were peanuts. And then there were some fried vegetables and… fried tomatoes? Why in the hell would anyone do that to a perfectly good tomato.