Southern culture on the shelves, part 1

Still further proof that the South may have lost the war (or, if you prefer, the "late unpleasantness") but won the battle. Not the battle for America's hearts and minds, mind you. The real battle, where it counts--the fight for America's gut.

Spotted today, pimento cheese for sale at the Giant Eagle Get-Go in Wilkinsburg, Pa.!

For those of you who don't know pimento cheese--or know him yet choose not to love him (editor's note: against all reason, I think of pimento cheese as a he and not a she--I dunno, just a Michael Chertoff "gut feeling," if you will), it may not seem like a big deal. However, I'll have you know that my sister the Journo complains bitterly that pimento cheese is considered something of a luxury item in Kansas.

Yes, apparently as rare and refined as Swarovski crystals, Fiji water, and a U.S. senator running for president who can separate his own religious views from those of the secular state.

Honest to God.

Nevertheless, said splendid discovery did not necessarily culminate in wonderful pimento cheese. It was more a case of pimento cheese soup, surely to be the next fat-and-cholesterol-laden lunch special at your local Applebee's or [insert your favorite, health-indifferent, chain restaurant here]. But the important point is that I found it for sale at all, here, way up North, and that even runny pimento cheese will do in a pinch when I don't have time to shave a pound of "rat cheese" and the funds to import a school cafeteria-sized jar of Duke's Mayonnaise from a Piggly Wiggly somewhere below the Mason-Dixon Line.

My gut feeling says let's whip out a couple of slices of Dainty Maid and make ourselves a sammich.

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(Editor's note: With a tip of the CAT hat to EcoGal for her continuing inspiration for "all things Southern, y'all.")