When I heard about Sweet Georgia Brown's bevy of pork offerings, I also heard that they were a little outside my price range. So, I bet my friend that strippers will beat you up if you snap quarters at them instead of giving them dollar bills, made my couple extra bucks and headed over to this homestyle cookin' feastery. I'm gonna go ahead and tell you now, spending a little extra here on lunch (that would turn out to be enough leftovers for dinner, midnight snack and tomorrow's lunch) was worth every barbecue sauce-covered penny. But if you're super cheap, just go halvsies with someone you know doesn't have a cold sore.
Sweet Georgia Brown is just like my dream home: Heater's on full blast, TV's blaring, and there's a nice man behind a sneeze guard ready to feed me any made-from-scratch 2,000-calorie lunch combo I want. Only thing that brought me back to reality was that the soda fountain offered Pepsi instead of Coke. And reality came just in time, because I was about to be That Guy in the buffet line. (Do not be the guy who doesn't know what he wants. Look at the buffet, pick something and order with clear confidence, people. I personally think it should be a lunch law that if you get stuck behind a mouth breather who "uhhhh"s through a lunch order, you're allowed to serve them up one severe butt punch).
I had the One Meat Three Veggies plate, which is a whopping $12.89. Stings a little, I know. But then the nice man behind the counter started serving: Three chopped links of pork sausage equal "one meat"? Two giant scoops of mashed potatoes topped with pot roast gravy (big-as-yo-face chunks of meat included in this orgasmogravy), two scoops of mac 'n' cheese (please don't order this so that there's still some left over when I show up) and two scoops of collard greens (also meatified) count as "three sides"? And the six pieces of still-warm-from-the-oven cornbread are included for free? I tell myself to act natural, move the line along before anyone notices I'm getting the hook up. But everyone is eating a food pile just as big as mine. Excess is the standard here. Win.
Sweet Georgia Brown is a religious experience (complete with fluffy yam clouds, cholesterol angels, and gospel choirs singing on the TV). Amen.
