Not much in the way of grits and okra in my neck of the woods—Pacific Northwest—Seattle, to be exact. Considering the variety of restaurants around here, or specialty food stores, I suppose you could find them—if you really wanted to. I didn't encounter grits and okra until I took a trip to Denver (which is hardly the Deep South, but the place where I was staying had to cater to a lot of people from down that-a-way). Grits: tasted like a cross between Cream of Wheat and boiled mothballs. Okra: looked like green garden slugs swimming in a bowl of slime. [URP!!] Okra is best as an ingredient in something else. I do like barbeque, but I can't say I'm all that wild about it, given the wide variety of cuisine that's available here.

And, no, I don't think the frankfurter is the American national food. Isn't Frankfurt in Germany? I do believe so. And "weiner" or "weenie" is a sort of anglicized corruption for Vienna sausage (for the geographically bewildered, Vienna is in Austria). Hardly the American national food.

I don't know if you could nail down an "American national food." Within ten minutes' walk (or in my case, roll), I can come upon a couple of standard meat-and-potatoes "family food" restaurants, a couple of very good seafood restaurants (Seattle is a great place if you like seafood—all kinds of seafood!), Thai, Indian, Mexican, Chinese (real Chinese, not just chop suey joints), Vietnamese, Japanese, Italian (not counting about four Pizza emporia), Ethiopian, a whole variety of fast-food joints like McDonald's, Jack-in-the-Box, Burger King, Dick's Drive-In, Spud Fish & Chips (very good, by the way), Taco Bell, Subway, a couple of delis, places where you can get gyros and wraps, and a really good Greek restaurant. Starbucks everywhere!! We also have a couple of Trader Joe's food markets close by, and if you can't find it there, it probably isn't edible. And TJ's sells some outrageously good wines! I could add more to the list, but I'm getting hungry, so I'm gonna go raid the fridge.

Oh, by the way, there is a Frankfurter (franchise) cart nearby (any kind of hot-dog thingy you could want, including Chicago red-hots, which I am told by someone who knows—she lives in Chicago and was visiting—says measure up quite well to those at home).

There is also a boozatorium or three close by where one can get standard American mouse pee should one lack taste buds, but they tend to specialize in local—and "imported"—microbrews. I'm rather partial to dark ales, myself. Some folks (mostly normal people) drink beer for flavor and conviviality, not just to "get drunk," which is decidedly immature.

I think most major cities in the U. S. and A. probably offer pretty much the same variety of fare. And I would imagine that London does too. Provided one actually wants to find out what's really there rather than just piss, moan, and complain and brag about how great the swill is back home.

Don't let my talk about the great eateries around Seattle encourage you to come here, Marty. There are some real downsides. You'll have to stay in either a log cabin or an igloo, it rains twenty-six hours a day, we all have webbed feet, and you can't be here for more that an hour or two before moss starts growing on your north side. Fungus everywhere! You can tell people whose families have been here for a few generations because they begin to look like the Gill Man (for example, here's a shot of me pursuing one of my many hobbies).

No, you don't want to come here, Marty. You really won't like it. No! Definitely not!

Don Firth