What do you call a heart attack smothered in clogged arteries? A good southern breakfast!

Don't you just love southern cooking? If you really think about it, good southern cooking is really just a method for killing people...all while leaving a gigantic smile on their mouths. I do my best to make things healthy. I try to ensure each meal has at least one vegetable that has not been deep fried. I also try to stick with the leaner cuts of meat whenever possible. Unfortunately, no matter how healthy one tries to be, the subtle call of a southern breakfast can't be resisted. Every now and then, one must succumb to the cries of the biscuits and gravy.

One of those days happened to be this past Saturday. I had a hankering for a good southern breakfast. In fact, that hankering started the night before, so I was actually able to plan for it. In my mind I saw a plate full of biscuits smothered in sausage gravy, scrambled eggs, buttered grits, and hash brown potatoes. Didn't have any grits in the pantry. Scratch those, I soon discovered I was in the same world of hurt regarding my breakfast sausage. Wait a minute, though. I remembered a pound of ground pork in the freezer. I decided that I needed homemade sausage. Homemade pork sausage can be wonderful. The thing is you have to be very careful about how much sage you use. The tendency is to use a lot. However, it is very easy to overwhelm the rest of the flavors with the taste of sage. If you use too much sage, you will end up with sausage that has somewhat of a musty earthy aftertaste. Anyway, I mixed the seasonings into the pork on Friday night, and put the mixture in the fridge to meld the flavors overnight.

The first task on Saturday morning is biscuits. I will admit, I am just as finicky about my biscuits as I am about cornbread. It doesn't take much for me to deem a biscuit a total failure. When looking for a biscuit recipe, I am always looking for something crusty, but not too crunchy,  I want a pillowy soft interior to this biscuit. A good sign of a pillowy interior is a biscuit that has risen high. In my search for the perfect biscuit, I came across a recipe for cracked black pepper biscuits from Bobby Flay. You can find the recipe at the Food Network site. Of course, I had to make a few modification. I took off the black pepper. Not once have I ever had black pepper on the tops of my biscuits. No black pepper. Bobby calls for twelve tablespoons of unsalted butter. Personally, I am a shortening fan. Finally, Bobby wanted me to brush the biscuits with cream before placing in the oven. Cream aint cheep. Milk worked just fine. In fact, those were some downright tasty biscuits. They were definitely fluffy.

That funny shaped biscuit in the middle is Neva's special biscuit. I always have a scrap of dough left. Usually, it is just big enough for one more biscuit. Rather than rolling and cutting out, I just shape it by hand. Nobody (and I do mean nobody) is allowed to eat that biscuit but my lovely wife.

All that was left was to make the sausage gravy and other breakfast items. In the end, I ended up only fixing the gravy and some hash brown potatoes. I decided we really didn't need eggs too. I would like to think I was being health conscious.  After all, while eating my scrumptious breakfast, I only felt one artery harden. That has to be an improvement. I sure hope going back for seconds and thirds don't count against me.

Hello Muddah! Hello Faddah! Here I am at...

I know. The title has you wondering how that can lead into a blog entry about food. It's a stretch, but bear with me. You see, I just returned from a week at summer camp. Still wondering where I'm taking this?

This year I went to summer camp with Joseph's Boy Scout troop. It was a looong trip from Memphis to Camp Rainey Mountain, just outside of Clayton, GA. As I was preparing for this trip to Georgia, I decided to reminisce a little. You see, I've been involved in scouting for quite some time. With the exception of a 12 year period before my son was old enough to join, I have been active in the Boy Scouts since I first joined as a cub in 1977. The amazing thing though, is this was going to be my first summer camp trip since 1986, the last year I served on summer camp staff.

Often, some of the greatest camp stories involve food. As I stated above, I decided to reminisce about my summer camp experiences growing up. Surely I could remember some great stories involving eating at summer camp. After all, I had attended summer camps in Alabama, New York, Italy, Greece, and Germany. So I thought...and thought...and thought. Nada! Zip! Zilch! That's what I had stored in the summer camp food memory drawer. Can you believe that? All those places, and I couldn't remember one thing about what I ate. That was strange. Oh well. I was sure there was a logical explanation.

The troop usually went to a summer camp called Skymont. From what I understand, it is a nice little summer camp nestled in the mountains between Nashville and Chattanooga. Joseph has gone there twice with the troop. I have yet to be able to go. Last year, I couldn't because of work conflicts. The first year was because the troop asks first year parents NOT to go to camp with their boys. This is an effort to help the boys (really the parents) learn some independence. Of course, I later learned from Mr. Sam that the next time I think the new parent rules apply to me, I should just come see him so he can set me straight. As punishment for such ignorance I am now troop committee chairperson.

Anyway, before my rambling strays too far from the subject at hand, I brought up Skymont because of the food. It is amazing the perception difference between boys and adults. I don't think I heard a single negative comment from any boys about the food at Skymont. The adults, well...they were a different story. The opinions ranged from the food being alright to, "You call that food?" Now, let's fast forward back to the present.

Our first food experience this year was in Bremen, GA. We stopped there to spend the night before finishing the trip to Rainey Mountain. What do you feed twenty four hungry boys late in the evening? Pizza! So, I make the call to Papa John's.

"I need ten pizza's"
"Excuse me. How many, sir?"
"Just ten...and six 2-liters."
Remember the old Sprint commercial with the pin drop? That's what it sounded like on the other end of the line.
"...and you want these delivered?"
"Naw! We'll pick them up. You just tell us when." With that, I am sure I heard a chorus of angels singing, and trumpets blowing on the other end.
"Oh, thank you, sir! I was afraid you wanted them right now. Let me see what kind of discounts I can give you."

Note to self: After you scare the snot out of the pizza person, relieve their fears. Suddenly you might receive many discounts.

2nd note to self: What happens when you feed boys pizza at 9pm? You have 24 wild and screaming boys at 3am, and you are left wondering how in the heck you got roped into this.

The next day it was McDonald's for breakfast and lunch. It is fun to discover which McDonald's have experience serving large groups. We walked into McDonald's in Bremen for breakfast. They were all smiles and ready to go. By the time our last boy ordered, those smiles had somehow disappeared. Poor things. Just as we were finishing up they had to deal with a tour bus of hungry teens. Something tells me there were a few employees of that restaurant rethinking their career paths.

Lunchtime was in Clayton, GA. It quickly became apparent that this McDonald's was used to huge groups of Boy Scouts dropping by for lunch every Sunday during the summer. Three troops hit at the exact same moment. I don't think it took more than thirty minutes for all three troops to order and eat, and the staff just had smirks on their faces that said, "Come on! Is that all you got!?!"

Now for the real reason for this blog. Summer camp food. Camp Rainey Mountain is big. In fact, the dining hall easily seats 800. That's big. Not big enough though. It just so happened we picked the busiest week of summer camp. There were over 930 boys in camp. Not total people. Just boys. Add another couple of hundred people to account for adult leaders. That's a lot of hungry mouths to feed every day. Was Rainey Mountain up for the challenge? We would soon find out. For Sunday dinner, we all sat down to trays of baked chicken (an entire leg and thigh quarter per person), green beans, mashed potatoes, roll, cookies, and fresh fruit.

"Mr. Jim! Mr. Jim! This food is waaay better than Skymont!" Wow! Things are looking good for this camp.

Monday morning: We are all looking forward to what breakfast brings. Especially after having such a wonderful supper the night before. After all, we need as much nourishment as we can get. We have to climb Mount Kilimanjaro...twice...just to get to our campsite. As I am headed to my table, I look down at my tray. Two slices of toast, and two slices of bacon, milk and juice. Hmm. I better pick up some fruit.

Monday lunch: Cheeseburgers and french fries! Woohoo! Okay, make that a hamburger and five french fries. The cheese disappeared many people ago. I'm sure those having triple cheese cheeseburgers are quite satisfied. Mr. Sam ain't lookin' too happy over there. Not only does he not have cheese, he doesn't have tea.

Monday supper: Bean burrito night! Bean burritos, nachos and ... no cheese. Mr. Sam is really looking ticked at this point. They ran out of nacho cheese before we got through the line. I think he made some comment about them knowing how many people they had to feed. I'm not sure though. The only thing I am sure of is we are all getting the feeling we were bamboozled on Sunday night. We aren't even close to being halfway through the week.

Note to self: When the entire camp just got done eating bean burritos try to be the last in bed...and enjoy the fresh air as long as possible. Nobody should have to bunk with five other people after a night of bean burritos. It's just not humane.

Needless to say, the week did not improve foodwise. On Tuesday, we had chili dogs. Hallelujah! We made it through the line and there was still cheese left. Mr. Sam reached for the cheese, hesitated, then pulled back. "I'm not eating any cheese. I'm rebelling!" I'm not quite sure Mr. Sam's rebellion was really noticed by the camp, but it brought a smile to his face. In my book, that gets put down as a success.

By the end of the week, it was no longer "this food is way better than Skymont!" Now it was, "Mr. Jim! Mr. Jim! Can we pleeeeeeeeeeeeeze go to Skymont next year. At least we get seconds there!"

I know why I can't remember anything about my summer camp food experiences. Often, when a person is traumatized, their mind will block all memories of the event, as a survival mechanism. That must be the reason. Hopefully, that survival mechanism will kick in for these boys soon.

(Please don't take this blog entry too seriously. While there were definitely some issues with portion sizes and running out of food, the camp did an admirable job of trying to cope with over 1,000 mouths to feed. Despite the food issues, I think every boy will tell you that the Camp Rainey Mountain staff was the best staff...EVER! I have never met a group of people more dedicated to making sure the boys and their leaders have a positive camp experience, and that is including summer camp staffs I served on. Kudos to the CRM staff.)