Author: Neal Saye

So for lunch on Thursday, HR (“Husband Robert” for the uninitiated) suggested we drive across the Savannah River to Bluffton SC and eat at Cahill’s.

We’ve eaten there several times before, and their Meat and Three is just scrumptious.

Oh goodness, Cahill’s Fried Chicken is Southern Culinary Joy.

For my Three, I chose sweet potato soufflé, collards and creamed corn. Robert got mashed potatoes with gravy, pickled beets and stewed cabbage. (We kept reaching our forks across the table to each other’s plates.). Washing it down with sweet tea, the “champagne of the south,” as Dolly Parton says.

The grounds of the working farm are simply beautiful.

Robert, who grew up in Inner City Baltimore, kept trying to pet and then milk this fake cow (bull?).

When I told him it was a statue of a cow, he got all huffy and stormed off toward the (real) chicken coops and the giant oaks proudly displaying their recently rained-on Resurrection Fern. (Do you know about Resurrection Fern? It looks brown and dead until rain. Then it is gloriously alive.)

When we got home, with our odds and ends we purchased at Cahill’s Market, Robert placed the few items on the cutting board for a photo op. The peppers and the tomato quickly scooted close to each other in a Group Hug.

If we could all be like vegetables!

Okay, sorry, if we could all be like fruits and vegetables.