If it ain't fried...

It ain't food. Or at least that's what it seemed on a recent visit to east Texas. Fried catfish, fried oysters, hush puppies, french fries...
The part of Texas we visited was very close to the Louisiana border. It was a definite cross between Cajun and Cowboy. Gumbos, etoufees and chicken fried steak. Sweet tea and strong coffee. Southern twangs and Tony Lamas.

Baked potatoes seemed to be popular as well, but not eaten before drowned in butter, sour cream and bacon bits. I was not the least bit surprised to see a huge number of people who would have won a spot on "The Biggest Loser" television show-- you know, the one where overweight people are tortured into becoming svelte. The other unusual thing I noticed was the inordinately large number of people with nasal canulas and oxygen tanks. That, I attributed to the idealization of the Marlboro Man, or woman, in many cases. Still a lot of cigarette smoking in that part of the world. One the many reasons it's great to be back in northern California.

Another great reason to be back is to go on what promises to be a very fun bike ride tomorrow. It's the Positive Pedalers' monthly ride. We're riding out of Bodega Bay, and after the ride will go to photographer extraordinaire John Hershey's house for Beau Thomson's famous turkey salad and my soon-to-be-famous toffee bars. Thank God they are made with chocolate so I won't be tempted to eat them. But then, my chocolate allergy story will have to wait for another day.