Leftover Grits

Since the later part of last week, I have been pretty sick. Apparently I had the flu because I had most of the classic flu symptoms. Linda's mom asked her about me going to one of the "doc in a box" places. She told her mom that there wasn't much point in asking, that I would not go to a doctor. Of course this is a prevalent misconception shared among my family and friends. It's not that I won't go to a doctor. I will. Its just that I have not been in quite some time. My contention is that you go to the doctor when you are sick. By sick, I don't mean you feel bad. I mean that you have assessed your situation and said to yourself, this has gotten to the point that I need some outside intervention. Fortunately, for most of my life I have been blessed with extremely good health but there have been occasions when I had to have medical attention. There have also been some close calls. This flu episode was not one of them. In fact, by the second full day I had experienced a slight improvement.

Some times when I feel bad, I will push myself a bit to try to get back to a normal life as soon as possible. The flu is an exception. When I have the flu, I try to resume my normal lifestyle with due diligence. I suspect that is because of the stories I was told as a child about my fathers flu experiences. When he has around 12 or 13 years old my father had a case of the flu. The worst seemed to be over after a few days and he was back up running and doing the things that a young boy does. The story was that he got too hot and relapsed. He became gravely ill. So ill that my mother's grandfather took her over "to visit him one more time before he died." Fortunately he did not die, but instead grew up to marry my mother and produce me and my sister.

Since I have been laying low, recovering, I have not made a trip to the grocery store. I usually keep a fair stock of staples on hand and I have not wanted much to eat as my appetite has not exactly been great. Linda has repeatedly offered to bring me anything I needed but I had enough to get by and I did not want to expose her to the flu in case I was still contagious.

The one area where I was a bit short was breakfast food. By yesterday, I was down to my last egg and my last two strips of bacon. Over the years I've gotten into the habit of eating hash browns as I keep potatoes on hand all the time and the skillet is already hot from frying the eggs, bacon, sausage or whatever. Yesterday, I decided that I had time so I would fix myself some grits. I looked high and low in the cabinets, pantry, shelves and refrigerator and all I could come up with was an old bag of real grits from the side shelf of the refrigerator. Most people I know use instant grits. A few hardy souls use "quick grits" which still take about 15 minutes, but no one, I repeat, no one cooks regular grits. I can cook a 5 pound beef roast in a pressure cooker faster than you can cook regular grits. Had I not been staying in recuperating from the flu, I would have either broken down and settled for hash browns or jumped in the pickup and gone and bought a package of instant grits. But I was laid up anyway with plenty of time on my hands so I decided what the heck.

About 45 minutes before I started cooking the egg and bacon, I brought a couple of cups of water to a boil in a pan and then spooned in several tablespoons of the grits. I stired them up good and then turned down the heat for them to simmer. I checked them along and added water as needed. When about 45 minutes had past, I checked the grits, they still needed some time but I figured that when I finished the egg, bacon and toast, the grits would be ready.

You can check package instructions, search the internet, and talk to anyone you like but let me tell you, regardless of what you read, see or hear, there are really three immutable laws of grit preparation: (1) It always takes more water than the recipe states, (2) The amount of grits you put in always produces more finished product than the recipe states and (3) The cooking time required is longer than the recipe says it is.

Needless to say, when the egg, bacon and toast were ready, my real grits were just barely getting there. I severed up a helping, put on some butter and salt and ate breakfast. When I had finished breakfast, I went back to the kitchen to check the grits which were still simmering on the top of the stove. They were in need of water and nearing the point of being completely ready to eat. If this had been some instant grits or even quick grits, I would have probably just dumped the whole mess in the garbage, but when you spend so much time on a dish, you get invested in it. So I added some more water and let them continue to simmer. Later in the morning, I remembered them. They were in significant need of water this time but when I added the water and tasted them, the grits were just right. I allowed them to cool for awhile then put them in a covered bowl and stuck them in the refrigerator.

This morning at breakfast time, I was out of eggs , out of bacon and still laying low from the flu. I examined my choices and decided that a few strips of fried bologna , a piece of cheese toast and the bowl of left over grits warmed in the microwave would serve the purpose. I was right. Leftover grits heated in the microwave and seasoned with the appropriate amount of butter and salt are not bad at all.