A lil' bit of Southern style

I have been in a Southern state of mind recently. Maybe it's because I am reading Midnight in the Garden of Good and Evil, maybe it's because I am making Southern fried chicken tonight or maybe it's because I reminiscing about the road trip that I, Beth and our friends Richard, Sara and Craig took through some of the Southern states three years ago this week?

It was part holiday, part business trip as Beth had been commissioned to write two travel articles on Dollywood and Nashville for Gay Times and Diva magazines. Beth's got a thing for country music you see, primarily Dolly and a lil' bit of Shania thrown in for good measure. Speaking of Shania Twain, have you ever noticed that her and Cheryl Cole look really similar? Perhaps Shania's biological father took a trip to Newcastle and got saucy with a local lass? Seemingly we're not the only people who think this as this Facebook page suggests.

Anyhoo, Beth has got a country music 'thang' going on, which I share when it comes to Dolly and Patsy Cline. Actually, country music has a bona fide out gay woman now, the delectable Chely Wright. I've just read her autobiography, Like Me, which was really quite moving and she's a great spokesperson for the LGBT community. Plus, she's cute as a button.

So, I'm reminiscing about that trip, what we got up to, the food we ate and the multitude of beverages we drank. Here's a rundown:

• Arrive at Atlanta International Airport in a haze of Valium and gin. Consequently unfazed by the fact that it takes two hours to actually get out of the airport.
• Off to Mary Mac's Tea Room in Atlanta for a cliched meal of fried chicken, collard greens and creamed sweetcorn matched with copious amounts of Mint Juleps. Adds an interesting edge to my already Valiumed and gin addled brain.
• Sample the Atlanta gay scene, which has gone Halloween crazy and is good fun. Start on the Seven and Sevens.
• Pile in a monster SUV and climb high up into the Great Smoky Mountains to Moonshine Cabin and enjoy a hot tub at sunset whilst the eagles fly and the beer flows.
• Enter the hallowed gates of Dollywood, where it's not as camp as you would like and we experience some minor indirect homophobia (well the woman was from Arkansas). Plus it's 'dry'!!! Still, I got to see what I would look like superimposed with one of Dolly's wigs on. Maybe they should have a similar tool with Dolly's cleavage...not that I would need it.
• Go back to Moonshine Cabin and meet up with the owners and new friends, Ken and Jerry. Get them gradually drunk and show them how the Brits like to party.
• Hop back in the SUV to Nashville with a killer hangover. Hangover is sated with biscuits and beer at the Loveless Cafe, just outside Nashville
• Arrive in Nashville and head off straight to the gay scene, which is a blast, if a little thin on the ladies. Drink Whisky Sours.
• Make a mental note never to attempt to sing karaoke in a Nashville bar. I haven't got the range....or the talent.
• Enjoy huge slabs of meat and Alabama Slammers at Jimmy Kelly's.
• Country Music Hall of Fame, check, Ryman Auditorium, check, Grand Old Opry, check, RCA Studio B, check, Jack's Bar-B-Que, then Lower Broadway bars, music and beer...check.
• Get complimented on our trendy hair by Nashville tour guide, who surmises we must be European.
• Get gnashed and trashed on the Nash Trash Tour with the Jugg Sisters, in a sea of beer, 'horse doovers' (Southern hour'doves which consist of cheese from a tube on cheesy crackers), fake celebrity spotting and ribald jokes about what it would be like to be a lesbian and in the vicinity of Dolly's boobs. If you ever go to Nashville, you must take this tour!
• Have a panic attack at Nashville airport and so start on the Valium again. Consequently am the only one not freaked out by severe turbulence, plus Beth, Richard and I are the only ones drinking on the plane. What does it say about us?
• Arrive in New York where cab driver takes us to the wrong Hilton hotel. Result, stand up argument with said cab driver in Times Square.
• Sort out temper with pizza and beer at John's Pizzeria in the Village.
• Meet up with two friends from London and find the Cubbyhole bar in the West Village and remain in situ for the evening. You have to love a bar which plays both Dolly and the theme music from the Golden Girls on their jukebox. Richard manages to pick up a guy in what is predominately a girls bar.
• Sample monster sandwiches at Katz's Deli and walk the length and breadth of Manhattan.
• Retreat to the Cubbyhole again with a further two friends from London. I know there are more bars, but the jukebox is too good.
• End the evening sitting around a piano singing show tunes and drinking frozen margaritas at the Monster on Sheridan Sq. Those that know me, know I am in my element.
• Finish trip with cheesecake at Junior's in Brooklyn and more Valium and red wine in order to get on the plane home.

A good roasting

That's what some of the contestants on X Factor could have done with Saturday night - a good roasting. Preferably over a large open fire in the ITV studios. And throw in Louis Walsh and Dermot O'Leary for good measure. Roast leprechaun anyone?

Speaking of roasts, I have one in the oven right now. A rolled leg of lamb stuffed with capers, garlic and anchovies. I'm really looking forward to it. Certainly given that I have a minging hangover, caused by Cava, which only roasted meat and ample carbs will be able to penetrate.

Anyway, back to the show. Last night's programme put me in mind of a Pontin's holiday camp talent contest (Butlins would have been too good). Or at least a very poor year at Eurovision. Let's recap on some of the low lights:

• A rapping skeleton from with eyelashes nicked off some ropey drag queen attempting to convince us that Worcestershire is a hotbed of raw urban talent. Move over Brixton, the 'Malvern Massive' is where it's at.
• The reincarnation of Margarita Pracatan, but now she is a scary beardy weirdy bongo player from Brazil trying to channel Barry Gibb.
• Diva Fever - who might as well have just waved a massive rainbow flag on the stage for two minutes. It would have been more entertaining.They're gay you know.
• Storm Lee and his amazing troupe of dancing gimps

I could go on, the material was endless, not least Cheryl Cole's increasingly radioactive hue and the fact that every male contestant seems to have their level of campness cranked up to high octane (a shot of tequila for every time the term 'diva' is used next week...I will be rat arsed by the end). But I shall save myself for subsequent shows.

Let them eat cake

What is about women and sweet treats? In particular chocolate and cake?

I don't know what you think, but Beth and I have a theory that a craving for sweet treats means that you don't have enough female loving in your life. Think about it, straight women seem to go doo lally over a slab of chocolate, whereas straight men seem more focused on things like pizza.

I tested this once with a group of my Sapphic sisters by initiating a discussion about our particular food cravings. What came out of this was that we all observed that heterosexual women were forever bringing in cakes, donuts and chocolate to work, but at the end of the day we agreed that we would all probably prefer a nice bit of pork pie! Is this because like straight men, we are the receivers of some female lovin', which provides us with the emotional sustenance that straight women (and many gay men, just watch my friend Richard devour a packet of chocolate digestives) seem to get from chocolate and cake?

However, someone who bucks this trend is my friend Hannah. When she and her husband got married this year they had a three tiered cake consisting entirely of.........pork pie!

Although, I have been getting into my baking of late and I have the Great British Bake Off to thank for that. Did you watch it? It was fabulous and it had our hilarious Sapphic sister, Sue Perkins, as host along with her comedy partner, Mel Giedroyc. The right person also won in the end, Edd Kimber, a lovely boy who bakes. Check out his blog.

Anyway, as we speak and contrary to my lack of interest in sweet things, I have some cranberry and raspberry muffins in the oven with a nice crunchy pecan topping. I am very particular about muffins. They have to be actual muffins and not overgrown fairy cakes. This means that they need to be made with less sugar and a nice rustic flour. Actually, one particular bug bear for me at the moment are cup cakes. I mean what is the fucking point? They're not sold on the taste, but rather how pretty they look. Look if I want to taste something pretty, then I'll seek out Cheryl Cole, not a cup cake!

On a final note, I'm attending an afternoon tea party on Saturday which is ironically being hosted by lesbians. However, one of them is a heavily pregnant lesbian, so she can be excused for her sweet cravings as she obviously needs emotional nourishment. The question is, what cake do I bake to take along? All suggestions welcome.