Somebody started a gigantic Twitter thread where people explain where they live by referencing the area’s weird foods. The very first comment in the thread was this:
St Louisans are everywhere. He forgot gooey butter cake, though. That’s the only somewhat eatable thing on the list.
I am permanently traumatized by that picture of bread-sliced bagels. I didn’t even know that was a thing.
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Where I grew up: Bay scallops. You see people out catching them, wading waist-deep, with a floating trash can on a leash, and a pole-net: unlike oysters, the little bay scallops are mobile: they see you coming, and squirt water out of their shells, which makes them sort of leap along the seafloor. A lot of people think they don’t like them, because they’ve never eaten any: probably the majority of scallops you can buy frozen are actually shark or whitefish punched out into little circles. Fraud in the seafood market is rampant. Real, fresh scallops are heavenly.
A conservative literary critic and college professor
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