Before I moved to Columbus for my internship at the Ledger-Enquirer, I never had heard of fried okra.
The first time someone coaxed it onto my plate, I thought, “My God, why are we frying everything?”
I’m from Denver, Colorado, land of quinoa burgers and kombucha and avocado toast. The only form of grits we eat is known as polenta, and we don’t eat it for breakfast. The term “meatless Monday” is a legitimate and practiced concept in my house. Restaurants are squashed into the same buildings as Pilates studios and Orangetheorys…