A couple of airplanes, a rental car, and a hotel room were part of my life this week. Years ago I enjoyed traveling for business but not anymore. Now I’m a homebody.

I like to tuck my kids in bed, kiss my wife goodnight, and take comfort in the familiar surroundings of our home. The career I’ve chosen, however, requires me to be away a fair bit, probably 20 or so times a year.

Back in the day, travel was all about “what can I do there?” Every destination brought the opportunity for new sights to see, new experiences to be had. Now I find myself asking a different question, “Who can I see there?” and through the miracle of social networking no matter where I go, I seem to be near at least one long-time friend.

Of my 600-plus Facebook “friends” a great many are college pals who are now spread out all over the globe.

Such was the case when I visited Atlanta and reconnected with my friend Laurie. We had not seen one another for well over 20 years but sat down over dinner and two decades melted away like an ice cube in the July Georgia sun.



Another great benefit of connecting with a local is that when you do seek out those new out-of-town experiences, you get the local’s perspective on where to eat and what to do.

As Laurie and I made our plans for our evening, she suggested a quintessential Southern dining experience and over dinner she helped educate me about Southern foodways. When we ordered, I managed to resist the temptations of all things fried — chicken, okra, green tomatoes and the like, and stuck with healthy (mostly) selections on a vegetable plate.

One option, Pot Likker, caught my attention and required some tutelage from my companion. Pot Likker, I learned, is the liquid left behind after boiling greens (collard, mustard, turnip, etc.). The flavorful liquid is usually served with a piece of cornbread to sop it up. I didn’t order the pot likker but settled on some other Southern favorites — boiled cabbage, black eyed peas, green beans, and mac and cheese. I washed it all down with a couple glasses of ice tea.

Although iced tea is a popular beverage all over the country, in the South drinking tea is nearly as ubiquitous as breathing oxygen and it’s been called the “house wine of the South.”

Author Fred Thompson wrote the book on this simple beverage. In this book, Iced Tea (Harvard Common Press), he provides advice on how to make the perfect glass of Southern-style tea.

Among Thompson’s tips are to add a pinch of baking soda to soften the natural tannins that can cause an acidic or bitter taste. He also warns against squeezing the tea bags, which can also result in a bitter batch of tea and tells his readers to wait for the tea to come to room temperature before refrigerating, to keep it from turning cloudy.

As my friend and I finished our meal, I resisted the temptations of the dessert menu, even though the pecan pie and bread pudding looked particularly beguiling.

Before we parted ways my friend left me with lots of other insider suggestions for the rest of my time in Atlanta and when I arrived back home a couple days later, I was glad to be back but was also glad I went, getting reacquainted with an old friend and learning a thing or two about eating and drinking in the South.

We’re all shaped by the people in our lives, both present and past, and our food is often a reflection of that – the heritage of our family, recipes and tips picked up from friends. So tonight with dinner, I’ll be enjoying a glass or two of Southern-style iced tea and will likely share with my family some of both what and who I saw while in Atlanta.



Scott Hutcheson writes for CNHI News Service, which distributes his column. He can be reached at www.scotthutcheson.com.