Who the Hell Fries Chitlins?

May 1, 2007

*random rant*I eat chitlins. Sure do. Haven't had any in about 6 years due to my mother's recent *healthier food* (which basically is a mask for her just being through with cooking) attitude of the past years. And I, along with thousands (maybe millions) of other people KNOW that you do NOT eat anyolebody's chitlins. Everybody doesn't know how to clean them or prepare them properly and it's not wise to eat the chitlins of a stranger.

But a strange and alarming situation has come into my line of view. Fried chitlins.

Otherwise known as Death Wish #4.

Fourth for African-Americans after Being Black In America, Reaching For Your Cell Phone In Front Of A Cop, and Not Minding Yo Own Damn Business. Closely followed by Baby Mama Drama and Ackin Funny.

When you think about it, chitlins are already dangerous enough. Since they're intestines you can be sure that fecal matter (aka "shit") has passed through them on more than one occassion. Shoot, I heard that you can get E. Coli AND/OR Salmonella from chitlins. In addition, they're pork and regardless of what you've heard about swine being the "other white meat" it ain't healthy unless it's lean. If you've ever seen a chitlin, you know that it's far from lean.

But on top of that, you wanna fry those badboys? You want to put a cleaned intestine in some sort of dry coating or batter, lay it in hot grease, and then serve it to someone to injest?

Have we lost our rabbit ass minds?

Quick question: What do you serve these with? (Please don't tell me French fries! I will have a stroke just thinking about it.)

Black people, a word with you, if I may.

I know that massah only gave us the scraps. I know that's why we eat hog maws, pickled pig feet, snouts, neck (pronounced "nake") bones, chitlins, ham hocks, and an assortment of other pieces of garbage from our barnyard pals. I understand that, and I ain't mad. In fact, I've partaken in every one of those delightful treats without shame. Quite delicious, if you ask me. These dishes are part of our rich history and hold many of our stories within their spoken recipes.

But let's get one thing clear: we were working all damn day during slavery! (At least, during THAT particular period of slavery.) We were out in the fields picking cotton or tobacco, or whatever else massah was growing. And we ate cornmeal mush for most meals on most days.

We are not doing that anymore. We sit behind desks. We drive cars. We ride buses. We might get up to change the channel if we can't find the remote. But we are not manual laborers anymore. (At least, the bulk of us aren't.) The only Black people I see riding bikes are kids, and they usually have a black plastic store bag full of Cheetos and Doritos, syrupy "drinks," and 25 cent candies.

These things are not healthy for us. Sure, once or twice a year is fine, but not at every Sunday dinner (while being served with fried fish/chicken, greens cooked with smoked pork, milk and egg-laden macaroni and cheese, mayonnaise-dripping potato salad, red or orange pop, and heavily sugared and buttered sweet potato pie). My grandmother, whom I speak so lovingly of, was caught eating a hog maw only days before her third and most debilitating stroke which left her as an invalid for the last seven years of her precious life.

Nuff said.

Obesity is killing us faster than corrupt cops. We've either got to totally give up these delights, or catch some sense and prepare them in healthier ways. I'm telling you right now, greens cooked without meat, for only about twenty minutes, are fi as hell! (Don't forget the olive oil and fresh garlic). Grilled or baked chicken is delish! Fresh pasta salads are an easy way to prevent that "itis!"

Black America, we must degrease!