Most people grow up eating Chinese food (well, American Chinese food) in restaurants with their families or as takeout. Oh, those adorable white paper buckets! My family ate canned chow mein noodles with canned “chop suey” and that was some exotic stuff on the home front. My introduction to restaurant quality Chinese food came late in my college years, when my pals and I explored the DC suburbs in search of cheap eats.
When I have overindulged in creamy, starchy foods, nothing makes me feel balanced like a meal-in-a bowl with lots of crunchy veggies and a little protein. There is no guilt associated with my heavier food phase, but rather an uncomfortable fullness and a food fatigue that calls for lighter fare.
Two things come to mind when I hear the word succotash : my mother’s unorthodox addition of tomato to the mixture of fresh corn and lima beans (now my preferred preparation), and, naturally, Sylvester the cat.
Living less than two hours from the Atlantic coast, I take for granted the access to fresh seafood. Folks in America’s middle surely find seafood in their markets and on their plates, but coastal citizens have the privilege of enjoying seafood hours to a few days from harvest.