Fried Grits

I have many food-related memories of my dad - Rocky Road and Butter Pecan ice cream. The year he bought me mint chocolate chip Hubba Bubba bubble gum for my birthday. Banana Popsicles. The story of how he told Mom he could eat fried chicken every night for dinner and be a happy man, and Mom did it. For, like, a week.

I also have a few memories of my daddy's cooking. Mom was the one who baked the bread and fried the chicken on a regular basis, but now and then Dad would whip out his specialties. For some reason, his double-decker-crunchy-peanut-butter-on-whole-wheat-sandwich was SO good. And he was the "grill sergeant", laying out on a lounge chair wearing cutoffs with a hat pulled down over his eyes, a spatula hanging loosely at his side, ready to pry the perfect burgers off of our little Weber. But one of my favorite memories is Fried Grits. Yes, you may be skeptical at this point, but you must trust me. Fried Grits are divine.

They have to be started the day/night before. Essentially, you just put leftover grits in a plastic container in the fridge until  the next day. It's best to make sure they are firmly in the corners and grooves of your container.  They will turn into a beautiful grit-brick.

Grits, sharp knife, butter.

Slice the grit-brick thinly (I usually cut it in half, then slice) while you are heating a skillet with a couple tablespoons of butter thrown in. Lay the slices in the hot skillet, being very careful.

 When they have begun to brown (4-5 minutes), carefully flip them over to the other side. Grits will pop out at you! Dad kept a mesh screen thingy over the grits to minimize that occurrence. I slide the skillet off the burner to flip them and that helps a lot.

This is just after I flipped them onto the second side. Aren't they pretty?

... because I know you wanted a close-up.

 Cook them for another 2-3 minutes on the second side, then slide them onto a plate. Lather, rinse, repeat. Well, slice, butter, repeat, anyway.

All done!