It happened last week. A neighbor uttered two words that don’t go together: “cauliflower grits.”
Nooo. Cauliflower is not grits and never will be.
I understand concerns about diet and health. Lord knows it’s been a daily struggle for me, especially since living with complications from Guillain-Barre Syndrome. Sixteen months in a wheelchair can pack on pounds.
Still.
I’m a gal with strong southern roots. I would not trade a bowl of stewed tomatoes and grits, cheese grits or grits with liver and gravy for cauliflower “grits.”
As my nieces would say, “That’s just wrong.”
For anyone without southern roots, I can forgive the confusion. My neighbor is a woman of solid culinary tastes. She eats at fancy Italian restaurants and thrills over Vietnamese cuisine. She is also a cauliflower devotee.
“You will love it,” she gushes.
No. I will not love it because I have never loved cauliflower, a vegetable that I choose to call white broccoli. Seriously, I’d walk barefoot over hot rocks before subbing cauliflower for grits.
I don’t just cook for nourishment. I cook for joy, otherwise what’s the point? Love of food and the kitchen makes me happy.
My mother died this month. When I was asked to write some words for her obituary, I wrote about her love for God and how she instilled that love in each of her children. But really, I could have written about her prowess as a home chef with exemplary imagination and culinary skill. Everything we learned about food came from her southern roots: her kitchen, our grandmothers’ kitchens, and our aunts’ kitchens. Food and kitchens make me happy.
There were childhood breakfasts with bowls of hot grits, fried chicken livers and onions, and hot biscuits. If for no other reason than the legacy of southern cooking, I take full affront to the idea of replacing grits, rice or potatoes with a ground-up vegetable.
This morning, I sautéed onions, kale (in homage to the green veggie craze), garlic, and mock sausage. I mixed all the veggies into a creamy pot of grits and added cheese. As I watched it all come together with a kind of brown gravy tint, I felt sorry for folks who will never enjoy the warm belly comfort of real grits or rice.
“Cauliflower tastes just like rice” says my neighbor.
No. It doesn’t taste just like rice.
There are real reasons that some folks are choosing cauliflower instead of starchy grains. Recently, concerns have been expressed about rice. Where is it grown? Does the soil have arsenic? Is it from the southern United States or Vietnam? White rice is high on the glycemic index and can contribute to blood sugar level spikes. I acknowledge these concerns, but a good rice pudding or cream of potato soup ain’t the same with cauliflower.
Just sayin’.
When I was a child, foods like grits, kale, and collards were standard southern fare. However things have changed, and with change I find myself in a world where organic collards, once almost free for the picking, are three dollars a bunch and grits are nouvelle cuisine. With change comes a cultural temptation to make things “better,” healthier, to explore new tastes.
“Have you tried the cauliflower pizza crust?”
No. If it ain’t broke, don’t fix it.
The more my friend yammered on about cauliflower rice, the stronger was my pull for a dish of rice covered with a rich chicken stew. So, I followed the urge and─
- Seasoned and braised two chicken backs in a couple of tablespoons of olive oil.
- Chopped onion, carrots, celery, fresh ginger, six or seven cloves of garlic, red bell peppers, and some young spinach leaves. I added the vegetables to the braised chicken.
- Cooked a cup of white rice.
- Added salt, pepper, turmeric, red chilis, and red bell peppers to the mix.
- Threw in three cups of homemade veggie broth.
- Let it all cook down to a thicker broth and added heavy cream. When it was thickened to my liking, I ladled this amazing goodness over a steaming plate of rice.
“Cauliflower would have been good in that stew!”
Sheesh.
Sala
wordshavecolor.com 
Technology. Seniors. Connectivity.
The Affordable Connectivity Program (ACP) was developed to make broadband internet services accessible to low-income households. Sadly, the program has been discontinued – a casualty of legislative haggling.
The Federal Communications Commission (FCC) reports that initial funding for the ACP, which provides subsidies to eligible participants with internet service provider (ISP) contracts, ended in June of 2024. Additional funds were not approved during Congressional budget negotiations. Perhaps some legislators were clueless; maybe others just didn’t care about the needs of isolated seniors, students needing access to learning options, residents of tribal lands, and rural communities. Perhaps some legislators just plain ignored the fact that internet access is often critical for medical care, jobs, social security, Medicare, and housing information. It’s a situation fueled by unkindness.
Several ISPs, in an unexpected Godsend, have stepped up to fill gaps left by the termination of funding.
I live in a township with a large and diverse senior population. Over the years, I’ve met several residents who embrace technology for all that it can offer. In other words, more than just email. Some residents, however, are nervous about online usage, even as they recognize the advantages technology offers. Some do not know how to use a computer. Yes, that’s a thing in 2024. Some simply cannot afford the costs of internet service providers and they are left out in the cold. That’s where ACP is beneficial.
I get it about distrusting online activity. There are dangers out there.
Targeting of seniors by scammers is high. Media coverage of identity theft has panicked women I know. There are also challenges that include “clouds,” automatic updates, and social media misinformation and untruths. I know a woman who was targeted by a man looking for lonely seniors in order to steal hard-earned savings. She lost a significant amount of money.
And my personal gripe – no exaggeration here: I loathe the hours I spend with technical support associates who don’t know their jobs. So yes, there are real inconveniences with the internet.
My point is that isolation for those without the internet is real ─ and alarming. A woman in my building told me about her feelings of isolation and depression during the pandemic lockdown. Unfortunately, there were no “pods” in this seniors’ building to help alleviate loneliness. The value of connecting with others and receiving ─ sometimes lifesaving ─ information through the internet cannot be overstated. ACP support for internet access is critical.
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It was 1995, I think. I remember it was around 11 p.m. The neighborhood children were in bed and the streets were quiet in Oakland, CA. I poured a glass of wine and relaxed in front of my new gift. It was mid-summer, but it felt like Christmas morning to me.
My employers, God bless ‘em, who were software developers, had given me one of the company’s old IBM personal computers. It was a clunky machine that put me over the moon. Taking a sip of wine, I stared at the dark screen.
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Six years prior, I worked at a college that had invested in computers and software training for some of its administrative staff. I was fortunate to be included in the training. Although cautious about the technology, I was excited.
We had to learn a lot quickly. Word processing software felt complex to an administrative staff that had been swatting away on Selectric typewriters ─ some of us for decades ─ using typewriter correction tape, inserting carbon paper for duplication, and making countless trips to a mimeograph room.
Some quit the training, preferring to stick with typewriters until the new technology was mandated. I chose to struggle on. It would serve me well. Like the delight of discovering a new bread recipe, meeting a new man, or watching buds on a tree become leaves, I was filled with excitement. Life was taking on new energy.
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I turned on the computer. MS-DOS loaded, and things took off from there. I don’t remember the internet icon. Netscape? Maybe. The guys at work must have given me a password because suddenly there was the twittering, singsong beeping of the “handshake,” and the image of a globe appeared on the screen.
Scooching closer to my desk, I anticipated a new world with cultures and places vastly different from my own: different languages, ways of walking and talking, and delightful food traditions. I never looked back. The internet allowed me to “get off my block” and fully engage with the world. Technology saved me.
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Fast forward to 2020 and the pandemic lockdown. I loved being alone but was missing in-person connections with friends. Then. Along came Zoom.
It saddens me that seniors and other isolated citizens need, but can’t access, broadband internet. Online access allowed me to attend community and civic meetings, free and live performances from the Royal National Theatre in London and other entertainment, visit with friends from afar, and participate in myriad activities and make connections during the Covid lockdown. Again, technology rescued me.
No one should be without broadband in a world where, some say, another pandemic is imminent. Come on legislators. Quit haggling. Include the ACP in September’s budget talks.
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Posted in Writing from the heart
Tagged Affordable Connectivity, Aging, Commentary, editorial, internet access, internet service providers, Legislative haggling, Life Stories, Opinions, political process, Reflections, senior isolation, seniors and technology, technology access, Unkindness