Having a Southern daddy (Kentucky-W. Virginia-Tennessee area), I grew up eating grits. I've always known what they are and wondered why none of my friends ate them.

It's funny, up north people have no idea what grits are and down south they look at you like you're crazy if you don't. When I was living in Virgina, a yankee shipmate went out to breakfast with me and, after I ordered grits with my eggs, asked the waitress what they were and she simply could not answer the question because it never occurred to her that he could possibly be asking what they were. She told him they came with the breakfast, that they didn't cost extra, that he could exchange them for hash browns, etc, but she would not actually tell him what they were because that would be as insane in her world as pointing at a glass of water and asking, "What is this stuff anyway?"

But I live in Hillbilly Row in Warren, Michigan and all the restaurants around here (virtually all Coney Island eateries and small indie greasy spoons) serve grits with breakfast. You go maybe, a couple of miles up the road and forget it. They don't know what grits are up there much less serve them. But 'round these here parts it's all hillbillies and southern blacks and they expect grits with breakfast and so do I.

I like to order them with eggs over easy and break the yolks over the grits and eat them that way along with salt and butter. Damn, I haven't had breakfast yet but I know what I'm gonna go have. Talk to ya later.