The Fried Pie Didn’t Meet Expectations
One of my least favorite songs of all time is the truly awful Paint Me a Birmingham by Tracy Lawrence. Sorry to all of his fans (?) out there but I only speak the truth. I haven’t had this type of adverse reaction to a song since my parents continuously played Wichita Lineman by Glen Campbell on the summer road trip (Arizona to Michigan) between my 5th and 6th grade year. That song made me want to do whatever it takes to ensure that I never become a lineman for the county. Ugh. Please note that there is really no other point to this introductory paragraph other than to say while I speak (write?) ill of Paint Me a Birmingham, I actually like the city. Sure, it has some rough areas but the amount of effort being put into the revitalization of a city once referred to as the ‘Pittsburgh of the South’ is inspiring. Best of luck B-Ham.
Remember how I mentioned in my last post that hijinks may ensue with Clay’s arrival? Thankfully we didn’t have a Clive Bixby and Juliana moment (any Modern Family fans out there?), but Clay did arrive at the wrong hotel door. He wasn’t only wearing a trench coat (or something worse) so our zany antics weren’t worthy of a situational comedy. Oh well. That is probably why we’re moving to Oklahoma and not somewhere exotic or exciting.
We’re in Arkansas this evening. Seeing as how the little guy woke us up at 4:30am this morning, we decided to only log 400 miles. And sadly, the coffee options between Birmingham and eastern portion of The Natural State are severely lacking. I did manage to find fried pie though. Also known as crab lanterns down south, the dessert is pretty much any type of fruit filling wrapped in pie dough. It is then (you guessed it) deep-fried. Seeing as how my goal in life is to expand my worldview until I am blue in the face, I just couldn’t let the opportunity to try ‘Grandma’s Fried Pie’ slip on by.
The verdict? Eh. Just eh. I know it isn’t very descriptive but a food blogger I am not. I am pretty much limited to describing something as crazy delicious when I find it tasty. And don’t even get me started on my disdain for the word yummy. Or any variation. Yes, I am talking to you Ms. Ray!
So back to the drive – which was not fun. At all. Between two extremely exhausted parents, thunderstorms, and a toddler who is learning how to test boundaries, we were thankful to check into our hotel at 4:30pm. The little guy just fell asleep and we’re getting ready to order some dinner, drink some beer, and crash. I can’t think of a more wild Saturday night. If we’re really crazy, we may place some crank calls or play Scrabble. I doubt it though – we can’t allow ourselves to get too carried away.
Tomorrow – we arrive in Lawton. I still haven’t decided if that is a good thing or a bad thing.