A Taste of West Central Alabama You Have to Try to Believe

Growing up in West Central Alabama, food wasn’t just something that came from a grocery store shelf. It came from the dirt, the woods, the creeks, and the briar patches. We lived off the land, and looking back, we ate like kings—even if some of our favorite dishes would make a modern foodie tilt their head in absolute confusion.

If you wanted vegetables, you didn’t go to the aisle; you went to the garden. We grew everything we could possibly want: sweet corn, peanuts, hot peppers, field peas, and okra. What we didn’t eat fresh, we canned or froze. Nothing went to waste.

We knew where the best wild things grew, too. Summertime meant stained fingers from picking wild blackberries for homemade jams and jellies. It meant pulling over to the side of the red dirt roads to pick wild plums off trees that, sadly, aren’t there anymore—the county took care of those with poison a long time ago.

Our proteins didn’t come wrapped in plastic, either. If we wanted fish, we went out and caught catfish, crappie, or brim. If we wanted meat for the table, my daddy went hunting. We ate rabbit, and yes, we ate squirrel. Let me tell you right now: there is absolutely nothing wrong with a well-cooked squirrel.

But out of all the traditional Southern staples, there’s one childhood favorite that I still eat for breakfast to this day. It’s the one thing that gets me the absolute wildest looks whenever I bring it up.

The Ultimate Alabama Breakfast: Cantaloupe & White Gravy

Hear me out before you judge.

You take a nice, cold cantaloupe, slice it up, and then you completely smother it in hot, savory white sausage gravy. Right before you dive in, you sprinkle just a tiny bit of sugar and a dash of black pepper over the top.

Whenever I mention this to anyone today, the reaction is always the same: “Ooh! Why would you eat that? That sounds gross!”

I promise you, it is not gross. It is the perfect combination of sweet, salty, cold, and hot. Back then, it was the kind of hearty, filling fuel that could get you through a long day of working in the fields—or, in my case, give you the energy to survive a full day at school.

Today, it’s more than just a meal. It’s a time machine. One bite of cold melon and hot gravy brings back the sounds of the Alabama morning, the smell of my mama’s kitchen, and the comfort of a home that shaped exactly who I am.

So, go ahead and turn your nose up if you want to. More for me. But if you’re ever feeling brave, try a slice of melon with your morning gravy. You might just find a new favorite—and a little taste of West Central Alabama.