These delicious, Southern fried shrimp were inspired by the recipe on the back of the Kikkoman’s box, but we added our own essence. The secret to our Southern fried shrimp recipe is about 1/2 teaspoon Tony Chachere’s Famous Creole Seasoning. For more flavor, go with a whole teaspoon or tablespoon. Frying shrimp is probably easier than frying chicken because these bad boys only take about 5 minutes of prep time, a few extra minutes to heat up your oil, and about 2 minutes in the fryer. Y’all will need:
- 1 pound jumbo raw shrimp – peeled & deveined
- 1 1/2 cups Kikkoman Panko Bread Crumbs
- 3 large eggs
- 1/3 cup all-purpose flour
- 1/2 teaspoon Tony Chachere’s Creole Seasoning
- Couple of grinds of black pepper
- 2 cups Vegetable Oil
Pour oil into a large sauce pan (or you can use a fondue cooker) and heat to 350 degrees Fahrenheit. Beat eggs in a small bowl until frothy. Pour Panko into a large bowl or deep tupperware container. Combine flour, pepper, and Chachere’s seasoning. Dredge shrimp in flour mixture coating both sides evenly, and shake off the excess. Then dip in eggs (coating the entire shrimp) before tossing in panko. For best results, we like to use the tupperware container with a lid to do a little shake & bake – that way, all the shrimp get an equal coating of breadcrumbs. In batches of 10-12, fry shrimp in oil. Look for the nice golden brown color.
Serve with cocktail sauce, or a bit of sriracha with ketchup. We like to think this traditional panko breaded shrimp recie has been “Southified”. That’s Southern + Fried = “Southified”. Try using that in a sentence this week, y’all!
Happy MLK Day, everyone! Here in Atlanta, the birthplace of Martin Luther King Jr. and “a city too busy to hate”, we must look back to see just how far we’ve come in the past decades and the amount of work left to do. Southerners in particular must reflect on both the good and not-so-pretty (actually downright ugly) parts of our history. As Southerners, let us continue the hope and faith that the South, and our nation, will continue with Dr. King’s quest for peace. Let’s take a moment to read Dr. King’s powerful “I Have A Dream” speech.
“I am happy to join with you today in what will go down in history as the greatest demonstration for freedom in the history of our nation.
Five score years ago, a great American, in whose symbolic shadow we stand today, signed the Emancipation Proclamation. This momentous decree came as a great beacon light of hope to millions of Negro slaves who had been seared in the flames of withering injustice. It came as a joyous daybreak to end the long night of their captivity.
But one hundred years later, the Negro still is not free. One hundred years later, the life of the Negro is still sadly crippled by the manacles of segregation and the chains of discrimination. One hundred years later, the Negro lives on a lonely island of poverty in the midst of a vast ocean of material prosperity. One hundred years later, the Negro is still languished in the corners of American society and finds himself an exile in his own land. And so we’ve come here today to dramatize a shameful condition.
In a sense we’ve come to our nation’s capital to cash a check. When the architects of our republic wrote the magnificent words of the Constitution and the Declaration of Independence, they were signing a promissory note to which every American was to fall heir. This note was a promise that all men, yes, black men as well as white men, would be guaranteed the “unalienable Rights” of “Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness.” It is obvious today that America has defaulted on this promissory note, insofar as her citizens of color are concerned. Instead of honoring this sacred obligation, America has given the Negro people a bad check, a check which has come back marked “insufficient funds.”
But we refuse to believe that the bank of justice is bankrupt. We refuse to believe that there are insufficient funds in the great vaults of opportunity of this nation. And so, we’ve come to cash this check, a check that will give us upon demand the riches of freedom and the security of justice.
We have also come to this hallowed spot to remind America of the fierce urgency of Now. This is no time to engage in the luxury of cooling off or to take the tranquilizing drug of gradualism. Now is the time to make real the promises of democracy. Now is the time to rise from the dark and desolate valley of segregation to the sunlit path of racial justice. Now is the time to lift our nation from the quicksands of racial injustice to the solid rock of brotherhood. Now is the time to make justice a reality for all of God’s children.
It would be fatal for the nation to overlook the urgency of the moment. This sweltering summer of the Negro’s legitimate discontent will not pass until there is an invigorating autumn of freedom and equality. 1963 is not an end, but a beginning. And those who hope that the Negro needed to blow off steam and will now be content will have a rude awakening if the nation returns to business as usual. And there will be neither rest nor tranquility in America until the Negro is granted his citizenship rights. The whirlwinds of revolt will continue to shake the foundations of our nation until the bright day of justice emerges.
But there is something that I must say to my people, who stand on the warm threshold which leads into the palace of justice: In the process of gaining our rightful place, we must not be guilty of wrongful deeds. Let us not seek to satisfy our thirst for freedom by drinking from the cup of bitterness and hatred. We must forever conduct our struggle on the high plane of dignity and discipline. We must not allow our creative protest to degenerate into physical violence. Again and again, we must rise to the majestic heights of meeting physical force with soul force.
The marvelous new militancy which has engulfed the Negro community must not lead us to a distrust of all white people, for many of our white brothers, as evidenced by their presence here today, have come to realize that their destiny is tied up with our destiny. And they have come to realize that their freedom is inextricably bound to our freedom.
We cannot walk alone.
And as we walk, we must make the pledge that we shall always march ahead.
We cannot turn back.
There are those who are asking the devotees of civil rights, “When will you be satisfied?” We can never be satisfied as long as the Negro is the victim of the unspeakable horrors of police brutality. We can never be satisfied as long as our bodies, heavy with the fatigue of travel, cannot gain lodging in the motels of the highways and the hotels of the cities. We cannot be satisfied as long as the negro’s basic mobility is from a smaller ghetto to a larger one. We can never be satisfied as long as our children are stripped of their self-hood and robbed of their dignity by signs stating: “For Whites Only.” We cannot be satisfied as long as a Negro in Mississippi cannot vote and a Negro in New York believes he has nothing for which to vote. No, no, we are not satisfied, and we will not be satisfied until “justice rolls down like waters, and righteousness like a mighty stream.”¹
I am not unmindful that some of you have come here out of great trials and tribulations. Some of you have come fresh from narrow jail cells. And some of you have come from areas where your quest — quest for freedom left you battered by the storms of persecution and staggered by the winds of police brutality. You have been the veterans of creative suffering. Continue to work with the faith that unearned suffering is redemptive. Go back to Mississippi, go back to Alabama, go back to South Carolina, go back to Georgia, go back to Louisiana, go back to the slums and ghettos of our northern cities, knowing that somehow this situation can and will be changed.
Let us not wallow in the valley of despair, I say to you today, my friends.
And so even though we face the difficulties of today and tomorrow, I still have a dream. It is a dream deeply rooted in the American dream.
I have a dream that one day this nation will rise up and live out the true meaning of its creed: “We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal.”
I have a dream that one day on the red hills of Georgia, the sons of former slaves and the sons of former slave owners will be able to sit down together at the table of brotherhood.
I have a dream that one day even the state of Mississippi, a state sweltering with the heat of injustice, sweltering with the heat of oppression, will be transformed into an oasis of freedom and justice.
I have a dream that my four little children will one day live in a nation where they will not be judged by the color of their skin but by the content of their character.
I have a dream today!
I have a dream that one day, down in Alabama, with its vicious racists, with its governor having his lips dripping with the words of “interposition” and “nullification” — one day right there in Alabama little black boys and black girls will be able to join hands with little white boys and white girls as sisters and brothers.
I have a dream today!
I have a dream that one day every valley shall be exalted, and every hill and mountain shall be made low, the rough places will be made plain, and the crooked places will be made straight; “and the glory of the Lord shall be revealed and all flesh shall see it together.”
This is our hope, and this is the faith that I go back to the South with.
With this faith, we will be able to hew out of the mountain of despair a stone of hope. With this faith, we will be able to transform the jangling discords of our nation into a beautiful symphony of brotherhood. With this faith, we will be able to work together, to pray together, to struggle together, to go to jail together, to stand up for freedom together, knowing that we will be free one day.
And this will be the day — this will be the day when all of God’s children will be able to sing with new meaning:
My country ’tis of thee, sweet land of liberty, of thee I sing.
Land where my fathers died, land of the Pilgrim’s pride,
From every mountainside, let freedom ring!
And if America is to be a great nation, this must become true.
And so let freedom ring from the prodigious hilltops of New Hampshire.
Let freedom ring from the mighty mountains of New York.
Let freedom ring from the heightening Alleghenies of Pennsylvania.
Let freedom ring from the snow-capped Rockies of Colorado.
Let freedom ring from the curvaceous slopes of California.
But not only that:
Let freedom ring from Stone Mountain of Georgia.
Let freedom ring from Lookout Mountain of Tennessee.
Let freedom ring from every hill and molehill of Mississippi.
From every mountainside, let freedom ring.
And when this happens, and when we allow freedom ring, when we let it ring from every village and every hamlet, from every state and every city, we will be able to speed up that day when all of God’s children, black men and white men, Jews and Gentiles, Protestants and Catholics, will be able to join hands and sing in the words of the old Negro spiritual:
“Free at last! Free at last! Thank God Almighty, we are free at last!”
Thanks to Elizabeth at Southern Color for sharing in the fun. Cheers girl!
2013 was a stellar year for the folks at Pretty Southern. From attending restaurant openings, helping rising political stars like Matt Foster get elected, fun with our fellow bloggers, and all sorts of happenings across the South — we’ve been there to tell the stories.
Here are our favorite Pretty Southern posts of 2013.
Random Acts of Kindness – This year was a milestone for Lauraine Frank. She celebrated both being cancer free and her 30th birthday. At only 30, Lauraine has beaten cancer four times in the past decade. So she decided to give back by starting a Random Acts of Kindness (RAOK) campaign. She asked for help from her friends, and others within the sphere of social media, to join her quest to make the world a happier place and brought smiles to thousands of people across the South.
Bitter Southerner – If y’all haven’t been keeping up with the Southern blogosphere, then you missed the launch of The Bitter Southerner. Chuck Reece, an Atlanta-based writer and editor with more than 30-plus years of penmanship, was fed up with the great stories of the South going undocumented, so he set out to do just that. Every Tuesday from now ’til the Rapture (Lord willing) the Bitter Southerner will bring y’all another great story from the South. Our favorite story so far is from behind the scenes at the Clairmont Lounge.
Braves Move – Speaking of bitter, the biggest story to rock the South, and possibly the national sports scene, was the Braves flight of Atlanta into neighboring Cobb County. After reading the excellent reporting from the AJC, it appears that Mayor Kasim Reed’s office dropped the ball on the whole deal which caused the Braves to look for love OTP (way outside the perimeter).
Baselines – Now, now, we’re still Braves fans here at Pretty Southern, especially after this phenomenal music video from Aaron Chewning. He teamed up with Braves catcher, Javy Lopez, to create a music video “Baselines” spoofing Robin Thicke’s popular “Blurred Lines”. The video celebrates the Braves clinching the National League East pennant. Y’all can spot the lovely ladies from the Braves’ Tomahawk team, mascot Homer (he even classed it up to put on a suit for the occasion), and rapper Austin Miles also has a cameo. Watch “Baselines” below.
Bring your appetite! Featuring the PB & J burger, mac ‘n cheese, and gouda fries, plus regular or spicy ketchup.
Stillhouse – This is one of the best new restaurants in Atlanta for 2013. Pretty Southern and our pal at Kitchen Causual, Katy Lucey, were privileged to attend a tasting at Stillhouse. We sat at the bar where our bartender Nicholas Bustos took excellent care of us. He kicked up a Carolina Mule by adding some fall inspiration with apple pie moonshine, ginger beer, peach bitters, and lime juice. It was the best way to serve moonshine! After ordering a round of drinks, it was time for the food. The menu at Stillhouse aims to please including deviled eggs, fried green tomatoes, crab cakes, pimento cheese, or mussels swimming in a moonshine-based broth, and bodacious burgers.
400 Came Down - The toll on Georgia 400 came down just before the Thanksgiving holiday, much to the delight of the millions of commuters who cruise down to Atlanta every day. We were thrilled to see our post get picked up on Reddit (thanks to the Redditors for the 4,000+ hits!)
Speaking of hits, we have to thank our loyal readers for their continued support (and hysterical comments) of Words Only Southerners Say. PrettySouthern.com has achieved more than 70,000 unique visitors just to this page. Thanks for your crazy Southern sayings, and keep ‘em coming!
We also have to give a huge thanks to our Pretty Southern feature contributor, Kate Robertson. She’s a senior at Virginia Tech who will be graduating in 2014 and is looking for her first break in the real world in PR or Communications. Hire her, y’all! This girl can write!
And finally, we have to thank the lovely ladies at Sh%t Southern Women Say for sharing their Southern sayings. It’s always fun to work with y’all, and we can’t wait to see what 2014 has in store!
Here’s a few words to the wise for getting around Atlanta, especially for out of towners coming in for the Chick-fil-A Bowl. Editor’s note, the author of this post, ElBandejo has asked to remain anonymous to protect his anonymity on Reddit.
Take Peachtree Street to West Peachtree Street. Then, take West Peachtree Street to Peachtree Avenue. From Peachtree Avenue, you need to get over to Peachtree Battle.
Baton Bob in one of his many costumes.
Be careful that you don’t take Peachtree Street to Peachtree Battle, otherwise you’ll be funneled onto an off-ramp from the Midtown Connector. Don’t ask how this happens; it just does. If you see Baton Bob, you’ve gone too far. At this point, you need to just start circling around for an hour, intermittently asking locals for directions to your destination. Be forewarned, though, that you will get one of the following two responses from locals:
1.) They will be polite and try to help you, but your guess is as good as theirs.
2.) Their reaction at your attempt to politely ask for directions will go something like this.
No matter what, you’ll eventually call it quits. Other drivers will pass by and laugh at another out-of-towner foolish enough to think they could navigate our roads.
Ultimately, when you do give up, you’ll pay out the nose to park your car in some gravel lot (DO NOT PARK ILLEGALLY, lest you want to engage in your own personal “Hundred Years War” with Park Atlanta) and head to the closest MARTA station.
Once aboard MARTA, you’ll realize it’s not like this and that, from the get-go, you should have rode MARTA….and utilized their free daily parking instead of paying $25 for a parking spot guarded by someone like this from Park Atlanta.
Moral of the story? If you’re coming into town for the game, do yourself (and everyone else) a favor by taking MARTA.
Side Note: If OTP (Outside the Perimeter), The Big Chicken is your reference for everything between I-75 and GA-400. The Big Chicken = The North Star.
At a time when it feels as though you can’t find a native Atlantan in the metro area to save your life, along comes ElBandejo. He’s not actually a native, but having lived here since he was 5, he’s about as close as you can get. How rare is it to find someone who has lived here this long? Those not as well versed in history believe that ElBandejo witnessed “Sherman’s March to the Sea”. In reality, ElBandejo is a child of the “New South” that loves his city, but loves poking fun at its well-known issues even more. Hopefully, humorous commentary can beget actual change.
