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| - Hushpuppies? Aren't those shoes for the elder crowd?
Brunswick Stew? Isn't that a soup served up in a Canadian Province?
Smoking while dining? Oh yeah, this is a tobacco state.
Listen, I'm just a guy from San Francisco, you know, the land of foie gras, locally grown organically produce, the slow cooking movement, I didn't really know a lick about Southern cooking ... until last night.
Sure, it was all fried and oozy and a week on the treadmill still won't burn off the number of calories from just a single serving of sweet tea, but now I understand why Charlotte is ranked 34 out of 45 on the American Fitness Index, a ranking of the 50 most populous cities that determined the least fit cities. Fried, fried and fried goodness sums up the local goodies available at The Penguin, such as the salty fried pickles, a huge batch of perfectly battered slices served with MSG laden ranch dressing. Hushpuppies, while a crowd pleaser, were a little lost on me, although I'm sure the same can be said about California politics to those from this part of the country.
I also indulged in a wonderfully battered corn dog and a Southern Burger, slathered with coleslaw.
My biggest impression was not the interesting mix of clientele, very typical of some of the districts of San Francisco, but the prices. At these rates, we would have ordered the entire menu for what an entree costs at a typical resto back home. As one of my dining partners said, if you become homeless, this is the place to be.
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