Soaking it all in

Are you a mustard person or a ketchup person? It was an easy question or so I thought. But after much consideration I’m not too sure. Hand me a burger and I’ll likely put both condiments on. Hand me a hot dog and then it’s definitely Chicago style, meaning you never put ketchup on a hot dog. What crazy person puts ketchup on a hot dog? Hey I’m not alone in that thought. Just ask Anthony Bourdain, President Barack Obama and the fine folks of the National Hot Dog and Sausage Council. And that goes the same for corn dogs — all mustard, no ketchup. By the same token most sane people I know (all two of them) use ketchup when making meat loaf. I top my meatloaf with a can of tomato sauce, somewhat the same, but definitely not mustard. If I am marinating a pork butt, however, I’ll smear that sucker with mustard. Somehow ketchup on that just seems wrong. But hand anyone a pile of French fries and their first pick is usually a squirt of ketchup on top or on the side for dipping. Don’t b

When I first moved to the area, I was happy to see there was a KFC in town. I don’t always get food cravings, but when one hits, the one thing I normally crave is fried chicken. For the longest time, the Colonel’s place was my fix. But then I discovered Poole’s Deli in Hinesville. Poole’s was right down the street from the office. The fried chicken was perfectly cooked, they offered much better menu sides and definitely a much better price. I was in fried chicken nirvana, and I could justify my craving weakness by walking there and back. Then the rug was yanked from right under my feet. In October 2012, after 21 years in business, Poole’s Deli closed. I panicked. Truth be told I cried a little. OK, a lot. The Colonel’s place no longer filled the void. It suddenly lacked the flavor I had become accustomed to. The taste, the crunch of the lightly battered skin. The juiciness of the meat. The real going-to-have-to-lick-my-fingers-because-this-is-too-good-to-waste deal. What wer