If you are an American, chances are you have heard the name Vanderbilt. As in, “no, I can’t buy you a brand new Maserati! Who do you think I am, a Vanderbilt?” The Vanderbilts were rich. But they weren’t just rich like the doctor down the street who buys all his teenagers brand new cars because he hasn’t made the connection between young age and accident rates yet. They were iconically rich. Like, they are considered one of the seven wealthiest families in history (world, not just American) rich.

In the 1800s, Cornelius Vanderbilt build railway and shipping empires. Good timing to get into shipping and railroads. He grew up in a modest home, and even after her had acquired his vast fortune, he continued to live in modest homes. His descendants were not so modest, however, and many of them used their inheritances to built opulent mansions.

In the 1880s, George Washington Vanderbilt, youngest son of William Henry Vanderbilt and grandson of Cornelius, made many visits to the Ashville, NC area (one of the more beautiful areas I have been to). He decided he liked the area so much that he would build a summer estate there–one he called his “little mountain escape”. Except, um, it wasn’t little by any stretch of the imagination.

The Biltmore estate is the largest privately-owned home in the United States. It has 250 rooms in a whopping 175,000 square feet. That is one big house! I don’t know how anyone could ever consider it a “little mountain escape”. The estate has its own winery, village, and church. It is is very own, very expensive little community right there in the Blue Ridge Mountains.

If you ever get the chance to visit Ashville (and I recommend you find that chance), make sure to check out the Biltmore Estate. It is pricey (admission prices help with the upkeep–old houses take a lot), and if you want to go into the main house you will need a reservation because it is busy, but is is amazing. Even if you can’t afford it or you didn’t think to reserve a ticket, it is worth a glance. Even just diving out and looking over the house and grounds from the roadway is pretty breathtaking.

Also, watch the movie The Private Eyes for a little Biltmore goodness and a lot of laughs!

Rhett Butler*

Once upon a time, a waitress called me “ma’am”. I was 16, maybe 17. A friend came to the rescue, telling the waitress that, “unless a woman is visibly over 35, she is not a ma’am.” It was funny.

It is not so funny for my colleague. Let’s call him Roger (’cause, well, that’s his name). Roger is a good old southern boy. He was raised in the dirrty, brought up on sweet tea and fried ocra. He has an accent so strong it can knock you down through the phone lines. Roger is now working in Los Angeles.

A few days ago, after Roger and I finished booking movies for my theatres, he said “thank you ma’am,” only he seemed to cut himself off before he could finish. After a slight pause, he asked me if I was offended when he called me ma’am. I told him he hadn’t really noticed. Apparently women in L.A. had noticed. They had noticed and had been extremely rude to him because of it. He has actually had not one, not two, but multiple waitresses yell at him in restaurants for calling them ma’am. He seemed pretty sad that so many women had been mean to him for something he thought was respectful

See, Roger was raised to say “sir” and “ma’am” when he is talking to people. For him, it is not an indication of age, it is a sign of respect.

Roger was raised that way because that is how it is done in the dirrty. Boys are taught to respect girls**. They open doors for girls***, they pull chairs out, they speak politely. In the south, they raise gentlemen. In the south, chivalry isn’t dead.

*I really hate to use Rhett Butler as an example here, because he was actually quite an ass, but a lot of people view him as the poster-boy for Southern Gentlemen (I suspect these people have neither read the book nor seen the movie).

**Just to make it clear: I know there are a ton of examples of men mistreating women in the south. There are a ton of instances of boys not respecting girls. I get this. But, I have also noticed a much higher percentage of boys/men doing the things I mentioned in the south than anywhere else I have been.

***Feminists: I know you can open doors for yourself. You are strong, powerful, independent women who don’t need a man to open your doors or pull out your chair. And guess what? Men know that too. They are not opening doors for you because they think you can’t do it; they are doing it because they respect you.

So, when the dogs would get restless or hungry and start baying, the soldiers had to think fast. Since corn fritters were quick and cheap to make, they would toss some over to the dogs, telling them to hush as they eat. And so Hush Puppies were born.

At least, that is one story of their origin. The naming of Hush Puppies has also been attributed to a chef in New Orleans, a fry cook in South Carolina, and about six thousand other people. Pretty much, nobody really knows where they got their name. They just all know they are delicious.

When I moved back to Montana, I was determined to create a great recipe for Hush Puppies. After a few failures, I found one I love and I haven’t looked back since. They make a great side dish for fish or chicken, or a fun afternoon snack.

Rachel’s Hush Puppies

• 1/2 cup flour
• 1 1/2 cups cornmeal
• 2 tsp baking powder
• 3/4 cup milk
• 1 Tbsp sugar
• 1/2 tsp salt
• 1 egg, beaten
• 1 small onion, chopped fine

Mix ingredients together. Drop by teaspoonfuls into hot oil and fry until golden brown. I use a deep fryer, but if you don’t have one, a deep frying pan with oil will work – just make sure to turn the hush puppies if they are not completely immersed.

A couple tips:

*These are great dipped in cocktail sauce (homemade: ketchup, worchestershire sauce, and a bit of horseradish).

*If you don’t have onion, or you want to try something different, have fun experimenting! These are great if you replace the onion with some thyme.

For the love of commas, will someone PLEASE get me that swing?!

Carolina porches are a thing of beauty: eight feet wide, often times the width of the house, timeless.

When I see a nice wide Carolina porch, I imagine:

The air is warm and inviting as I step out onto the porch. Moisture clings to my skin, giving me a soft dewy appearance. The glass of sweet tea in my hands begins to sweat immediately; the cold water drips, shocking my bare feet as it splashes off them.

A light breeze ruffles through my hair, bringing with it the spicy-sweet scent of magnolias. I lower myself into an adirondack chair, pulling one leg underneath me. With a my book in my hand, I look out over the creek. A cricket chirps. In the distance, I can just see the flicker of a firefly. I take a sip of my tea and start reading.

This is the life.

So, to celebrate the awesomeness of the South (and to help me curb the coldness of the North), I have decided to start Southern Fried Saturdays: a blog series where I celebrate all the wonderful things about the American South.

And what better way to start the series than by celebrating a little bit of South I get to have up here in Montana –  sweet tea (seriously, there is a glass on the table next to me right now).

Sweet tea is more than just a drink down south – it is a tradition, with quite a bit of history. It can be found at any restaurant and in most homes at any given time. If you order iced tea in a restaurant, you will get sweet tea, so you need to specify if you want unsweetened (if you are crazy like that).

Now, getting the perfect sweet tea is an art. You can’t just take some iced tea and dump a lot of sugar in it. You know what you get then? Unsweetened iced tea with a bunch of sugary sludge at the bottom of the glass. Sweet tea needs to have the sugar mixed in while it is still hot, hot, hot. Yeah, there is that much sugar. So, without further ado:

Southern Sweet Tea

• Most southerns swear by Luzianne tea*, but Lipton is nearly as good.
• Boil a couple quarts of water; add tea bags (3-4 family sized or 8-10 single serving); turn the temp down, but keep at a soft boil.
• Let the tea boil for 3-5 minutes. When it is a deep mahogany color, you are ready to go.
• Put about a cup of sugar in a gallon pitcher. Yes, a full cup**. Add the hot tea and stir it up to dissolve the sugar.
• Fill the pitcher to the top with cold water and refrigerate.
• Serve over ice (in a mason jar ) with lemon or a mint sprig (or both). Not with raspberry.

Sometimes, your sweet tea will get cloudy. There is nothing wrong with it, but it takes away from the presentation a bit. There are ways to avoid this.

Crystal Clear Sweet Tea

• Use room temperature water instead of cold to fill the pitcher.
• Let the tea cool on the counter for several hours before putting it in the refrigerator.
• Don’t add ice cubes to hot tea (many people use ice instead of water to fill the pitcher); only add ice to the glasses when you drink it.
• If the tea becomes cloudy overnight, you can add a cup of boiling water to clear it up, but this will dilute the tea, so only do it if your tea is very strong.

If your tea is too bitter, add a pinch of baking soda to the water when you add the tea bags. This will help soften that bitter taste (some people swear that the baking soda helps keep it clear as well, but I don’t know).

And there you have it – southern sweet tea. I think I will go get another glass now.

*Due to religious beliefs, I don’t actually drink black tea. BUT, I have found a great herbal alternative that I use instead. It isn’t quite the same, but it is close.

**I know a cup of sugar seems like a lot to some northerners, but that is what good sweet tea takes (and I have heard of some people putting much more-but that is overkill).