"YOU CAN TAKE THE BOY OUT OF THE COUNTRY........."

A Facebook correspondent from Fayette County posted the following:

  "I'm glad I live alone so I don't have to deal with the tacky things during Autumn.
   Maybe it's an Ohio thing, but they wear "hoodies", sit in the freezing cold for
   football (something else I dislike), break out their tacky, ugly primitives that smell
   like cinnamon and pumpkin-nasty spice.  They rave about the disgusting lattes from
   Starbucks, knowing that the nearest Starbucks to their hick town is 45 miles.  They
   wear ugly, fuzzy boots and sit in checkered shirts that lumberjacks wear while sitting
   inches away from burning garbage, aka a "bonfire".  Meanwhile, they have that
   fugly metal star on their house."

I found it amusing that he could have become such a sophisticate by being away from Fayette County a scant six months!  For a minute, I even thought he might have been to the James Beard Institute!

This is my response:

Dear Bon Vivant:  I'll be generous and file your rant under the category: "YOU CAN TAKE THE BOY OUT OF THE COUNTRY, BUT YOU CAN'T TAKE THE COUNTRY OUT OF THE BOY!"

Since you are NOW such a sophisticated epicurean, perhaps you can instruct all of us unsophisticated FAYCO people about the finer points of Japanese cuisine!

As you must NOW know exactly what kind of fish/seafood are used in the pictured sushi, perhaps you will share which are your favorites.  I doubt that the ingredients were FRESH as you weren't at a coastal location. Perhaps they don't use CARP or MULLET in the super-sophisticated Memphis sushi bars!  [Remind me to tell you of a personal faux pas involving MULLET and my pronunciation!]

As for myself, I much prefer the green seaweed rather than the black. It's been really beneficial to have an Asian as my sister-in-law to educate me!

My "mullet moment":  we were in Mobile, Alabama, at my brother Bode's favorite seafood restaurant. We had walked over a footbridge to get to the restaurant and I looked into the pond and asked, "Are those mullet down there--are they on the menu?"  The maitre d, obviously offended (although I attributed it to his lack of humor), imitated my pronunciation of "mullet" ("MULL-UTT") as he said, superciliously, "WE pronounce it MUH-LET!"

To this day, in remembrance of that, I say "MUHLET" using his rather condescending tone!