Langley Writes

about her rich and random life

T is for… Tea April 23, 2011

sxc.hu/makram

T is for tea because I love it. All kinds of tea. I’ve never tasted a tea that I didn’t like. I’ve had the good fortune of traveling all over the world. During my travels, I’ve had proper tea in England and explored a variety of green teas across Asia. Right here at home, I enjoy good, basic iced tea.

Being from the south, iced tea is a staple. But we didn’t drink iced tea growing up. My parents thought we needed milk to build bones so… we drank milk. At every meal. Very un-southern-like, milk was our go-to beverage. It wasn’t until I forged out on my own that I started my love affair with tea.

My vagabond days are over and I’ve settled down, back here in the south. Fortune smiles on me (again). The Charleston Tea Plantation is close to our house. America’s only working tea farm is right here, where I live.

Local tea. Fresh, delicious tea. Right here. Did I mention that I love tea?

If you want to read more about the Charleston Tea Plantation, check out these articles:

America’s Only Working Tea Farm is in Charleston, South Carolina

Making Tea at Charleston Tea Plantation in Charleston, South Carolina

Product Review: American Classic Tea in Pyramid Tea Bags

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N is for Nitrotini April 16, 2011

Fridays are date night. Sometimes it’s a nice restaurant, sometimes it’s a pizza joint and sometimes it’s boiled peanuts and dogs at a baseball game. But we are going out on Friday nights.

Last night we stepped it up and went to Grill 225. Nice place. As we relaxed after the meal I was yammering on about the A – Z Blogging Challenge. I lamented that I had no schedule, that I was pulling topics out of thin air, blah, blah, blah. As my husband’s eyes glazed over and his mind wandered to his happy place (sports) the waiter walked past our table with 2 beautiful, martini-looking drinks. That in itself isn’t interesting but what made me stop my prattle and my husband snap out of his football fantasy was the fact that the drinks were smoking. A lot. Billows of smoke surrounded these martinis as if they were in a Fellini dream sequence. Very cool.

Turns out, the drinks were Nitrotini cocktails. Here’s a description, directly from Grill 225’s website:

Like your martini shaken…stirred…super-chilled? Come experience the new NitrotiniTM cocktail, the latest unique luxury from the prime beef pioneer, Grill 225. Cooled to –320 degrees Farenheit, the Nitrotini is Charleston’s only cocktail super-chilled with liquid nitrogen. Choose from over 20 Nitrotini selections, like the Mandarin Chocolate Ganache and Lemon Ginger. Refreshing, delicious and one-of-a- kind, only from Grill 225 in Charleston, SC.

The husband looks at me and asks if I want one. I didn’t. I declined because we’d had a few glasses of wine and I wasn’t keen about mixing wine with smoking martinis. Then, in a flash of good husbandness, my guy says “There’s your N-word Langley. Write about Nitrotinis.”  He was listening!

 
Source: Grill 225 Website (restaurant in Charleston, South Carolina)
Image credit: sxc/Whiter78
 

M is for Meat: Sweet Meat April 15, 2011

Just now, when I stumbled onto an idea for an M-day post on the A-Z Blogging Challenge, my heart started racing and I began grinning like a jack@$$ eating briars. All because… my sister is going to kill me for this one. I’ll get there…

In the south, we nickname everything. It’s fun, funny and creative. Often, we have many nicknames for the same person, pet, restaurant or whatever else we nickname. Growing up, my dad called me Punkin Head (Pumpkin Head), or Punkin. My head is not especially big but he still calls me that, among other things. My brother’s nickname is Bubba and I’m not kidding. He runs a successful business but never asks clients to call him by his real name. He’s always been Bubba. There were two Bubba’s in our neighborhood so, growing up, I always called my brother Bubba Watts and the other kid Bubba Brickell. Nobody thought it was odd that I called my own brother Bubba Watts because you almost always have to follow ‘Bubba’ with a last name in the south. There are too many to keep them all straight.

My sister’s name is Mary but, in true southern style, she had to have a nickname. She nicknamed herself at a very early age. She started referring to herself as Mimi instead of Mary. And because I put nicknames on everything-even nicknames-I started calling her Sweet Meat. She was my Sweet Meat, my baby sister. (By the way, Baby Sister and Baby Girl are common nicknames in the south but she managed to sidestep those. Now that I think about it, however, she would probably prefer Baby Sister over the evolution of Sweet Meat. I’ll get there…).

As time went on, Sweet Meat became Meat. Just Meat. And it stuck. So we still call my sister Meat. If you don’t know the origin of her nickname, I know how it sounds. It’s terrible to call someone Meat. And I try, I swear I do, to call her Mimi-but I just can’t. Meat pops out of my mouth every time I speak to her. It’s a term of endearment, a pet name.

She’s not really fond of her nickname and her husband, who came into the picture long after she was dubbed Meat, hates it. I try hard not to call her Meat in front of him but I know I do. I can’t help it. Her name is Meat.

PS – here is an article about Southern nicknames if you want to read more: Five Common Names for Boys in the South.  I could write 10 more of these articles and not cover half the subject.

Do you have a nickname or know someone who does?

 

 
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