“Shit On a Shingle”

Maggies farm has awakened my youthful taste buds to a southern delicacy that my father used to cook for us kids on rainy Saturday mornings. Creamed chipped beef on toast as it is known to the gastronomically sophisticated, S.O.S to us more plain spoken types, it is one of those cultural talismans that I use to judge whether the guy I’m sharing the diner counter with is worth talking to or just metaphorical fill dirt. If you don’t like kids, dogs, porn, or white gravy on biscuits, I’m afraid we are just not going to see eye to eye on most things.



2 responses to ““Shit On a Shingle”

  1. Thanks, Mark. Now I’m off to the store to get the fixins for biscuits and gravy.

  2. Man, do I remember that stuff. Snowy weekend mornings we’d get that. Been ages since I had any. I always did like it. We got that instead of biscuits & gravy. My mom always thought wheat toast was better for us than biscuits. 🙂

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