There are few things more satisfying in this world than fat. Not the ripples of my ass. For that matter, lard rarely has a welcomed place in my life (though I hear its imperative when making good pie crusts, more on that later). No, I speak of the omnipresent kitchen staple- butter. Inspired by this single modest ingredient, I set out to conquer my first meal of the day, albeit almost noon and only with half an eye open. So I thought to myself, "could one eat butter for breakfast?" Why yes, one could. If one were Paula Deen. But diabetes-hopeful I was not. Instead I set to seek out a most ideal marriage, a pairing so utopic, it was no surprise southerners concocted the idea first. Butter + grits = yes please. I had never made grits a day in my life, and could probably count the times I've eaten it on one hand. Yet I knew, if anything could make love to butter the way I needed it t this very morning, it would be grits.
I set my water to boil, just a pinch of salt, with a 2:1 ratio of water to grits. I had my butter anxiously waiting on the counter. I tapped my fingers. I paced. I pondered feverishly about "dressing" my grits the best I knew how. Ah yes, cheese. Because fat loves and begets more fat. Not a second sooner was a brick of Vermont cheddar perched next to the slightly softened butter. I grinned deviously. It was still not enough. I was insatiable. I wanted to be bad, real bad. I wanted to go savory. I know, I know. I have such a sweet tooth as you know, that my own cavities hold interventions. But I felt the urge and there was no turning back now. Into a nonstick pan I threw chopped vegan chipoltle sausage and fresh from the farm organic bell peppers, as well as a medium heirloom tomato all diced up. With some salt, pepper, ad butter of course. I let that stew down a bit, all the while mixing copious amounts of butter into the stark white grits. This is where I say throw caution to the wind and let your taste buds lead the way on how much butter is too much butter. My threshold for a single serving is a heaping three tablespoons and just about the same amount in cheese. But truth be told, I just kept chucking bits of cheddar until the pot became a bubbling, gooey, sticky mess. It that isn't gourmet cooking, then show me what is.