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“Deep Fried Tofu” - my eyes studied the menu as my brain went into hyper-drive trying to comprehend what those words in that particular sequence meant. Even for a Southerner who is familiar with “deep-fried everything” from “Twinkies” to “Snickers bars”, deep fried tofu had to be the ultimate. I wouldn’t be surprised to hear that the Tofu Institute of the World was making arrangements at this moment to fly into the South and confiscate all tofu in the region. I’m sure that the health conscious Northern carpetbaggers who migrated south never intended for one of the bastions of health food to be deep fried and then covered with a vinegar-based barbeque sauce. They had probably read in Time Magazine that we were an over-weight, lard-gifted, pack of swine gobbling rednecks. They probably were only trying to make us more health-conscious as they trekked across the Mason-Dixon Line, bearing tofu, seaweed and turkey sausage.
As with any relevant journey, there comes discovery and what these health missionaries learned is that, if you bring us food, we’re duty-bound to make it taste good. Consequently, Deep Fried Tofu with barbeque sauce, Quick-Fried Seaweed and Banana Yogurt Pudding are now part of the “Nouveau Southern” cuisine. We don’t ask much of our recent immigrants, just that they respect our taste buds. We may erect a statue of Aunt Jemima with a rolling pin aimed skyward, “Send us your cold, your hungry, your emaciated masses yearning to eat tasty food” on the base. Maybe it could be a statue of the guy who was the first person to drop battered dill pickles in bubbling peanut oil. That’s the person I think deserves a statue. What a genius! Fried dill pickles dipped in sour cream, that’s about the tastiest way to a heart attack that I know.
A healthy cookbook in the North may be titled, Eat This, Not That. The Southern version of a healthy cookbook would be,
"How to Eat Southern and Live to Tell About It." For Southerners, eating healthy is using rice cakes for our peanut butter, jelly and banana sandwich. Hey, Elvis might be here today if he’d eaten those!
But our food may not be as unhealthy as Northerners believe. For years, the South has been supplying some pretty healthy specimens to the world. Bo Jackson, one of the greatest football and baseball players, is an Alabama product. He was also one of the fittest and most athletic specimens ever. You think he grew up eating tofu, seaweed and rice cakes? No! He grew up eating collard greens cooked with fatback, chittlings and cornbread. You can go to Lookout Mountain in Chattanooga and look south to Florida. That’s Tim Tebow you see off in the distance. Do you think coagulated soy milk pressed into curds is a part of his diet? He probably grew up eating chicken-fried alligator and hominy grits. It’s not just athletes. How about willowy Harry Connick, Jr.? He grew up in New Orleans and probably had roux-based baby food as a child, not tofu etouffee. Justin Timberlake is from Memphis. Do you think Justin got in sync and sexy eating quinoa and wheat germ? No! He grew up on “dry” ribs and “honey-dipped” fried chicken.
I once had an Orthodox Jewish friend who had moved to Memphis from California. He constantly railed against barbeque ribs and fried chicken. I warned him, if he ever partook of either of those Southern delicacies, that would be it and he would become “hooked”. He ignored my warning and continued to chastise me for my diet. So, one day I decided to use chicanery to introduce him to real Southern cuisine. He was a diminutive fellow, probably because of his “healthy” diet, so the ruse would be for his own good. I told him that my whacky aunt from California had sent me some tofu stuffed with quinoa. Actually, I had taken some of my grandmother’s fried chicken, cut it into bite size pieces, and placed them in chunks of tofu. I knew if he tasted my grandmother’s fried chicken, he would indeed be “hooked”. I invited him to share my healthy bounty and he gladly accepted my guileful invitation. As he bit into a piece, he exclaimed, “What the…oh wow this is really good!” By his third piece, he was asking why I had put such a delectable fare inside the gooey, tasteless white stuff. He quickly scraped the tofu off of the remaining pieces and we had a convert.
After that day, he became addicted to Southern cuisine, not only extending his gluttony to chicken-fried steak, but all of the way to barbeque ribs. His rabbi was confused when he switched to “Reform”, but the young man, as I had warned, was “hooked”. The last time I saw him, he was standing in front of a chicken shack tap dancing for food.
Copyright 2008 Ike Martin
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Ike Martin is a freelance writer living in the Memphis area. His latest book Booming to 60 is a Baby Boomer’s guide to
geezerdom www.boomingto60.com
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