November 2012
If you flip through the pages of this issue, you will come across names and terms that evoke the South in all of its beauty and contradictions: Hog jowl. Biscuits. Kennesaw Mountain. Henry Grady. Jim Crow. Bow ties. Cotillion. Porches. Gun. Murder. Flannery O’Connor. Alice Walker. Guilt. God. Gossip. Grave. Gothic. Football. Potlikker.
You will not see the name Randy Newman, though that may have been an oversight. Almost forty years ago, Newman wrote a song called “Rednecks,” which hilariously pointed out the hypocrisy of white Northerners who failed to acknowledge their own racism while they sat in judgment of the South’s. I knew the song before I moved to Atlanta from New York a dozen years ago, but I didn’t really understand it until I’d lived here awhile. Which is to say, it took me moving to the South to learn about the North.
You will not see the name Randy Newman, though that may have been an oversight. Almost forty years ago, Newman wrote a song called “Rednecks,” which hilariously pointed out the hypocrisy of white Northerners who failed to acknowledge their own racism while they sat in judgment of the South’s. I knew the song before I moved to Atlanta from New York a dozen years ago, but I didn’t really understand it until I’d lived here awhile. Which is to say, it took me moving to the South to learn about the North.
Tweets of the Day: April 13, 2012 – Braves Edition
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5 bread dishes you need to try in metro Atlanta
Honey toast is one of the most dramatic makeovers you can give to a sandwich loaf, but certainly not the only one; stuffing comes to mind. But see also these preparations available at Atlanta-area restaurants, representing culinary traditions from around the world in which a little bit of bread gets transformed—by heat, by time, by a little special attention from the cook—into another masterpiece entirely.
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