I’ve lived in five states throughout my life, and I was recently asked what stood out amongst those places. I had to think about it since I’ve been in the southern United States for most of my life, but looking back on it, it’s funny how we judge one place as truly different from another. I guess I’ve come to realize that Oklahoma isn’t much different than Mississippi, and Stephen Colbert was right to ask, “do you live in Georgia or Atlanta?”

It’s no secret I love food. As a kid in North Carolina, I loved the hot dogs from Norris’s Hot Dogs (now Hamburger Haven.) I have no idea what their secret is, but give me one of those hot dogs with mustard (because ketchup has no place on a hot dog) and onions, and I was in heaven. When I moved to Georgia in 2017, I made a bit of a pilgrimage to my hometown. I returned to renew my tribal affiliation in person, so I spent a few days visiting family and returning to Hamburger Haven to enjoy those hot dogs again. For the record, I know what’s in a hot dog, and quite frankly (pun intended), you wouldn’t care if you tried this one. Cuisine defines every place I’ve lived.

When I think of Mississippi, fried farm-raised catfish comes to mind. If you ever find yourself in Starkville or the surrounding area Thursday-Saturday night, visit Pap’s Place in Ackerman. Sherry will keep your sweet tea filled to the brim, the catfish never runs out, and you may have to wait a while for a table, but I promise you, the banana pudding is worth it. Outings to Pap’s were a treat as a kid. I think my grandmother took us because it was the one place she’d run into everyone she ever knew. Even when I’d return as an adult with my mom, we’d run into more people we knew on a Friday night at Pap’s than we ever did at Walmart. And that’s saying something.

Eischen’s Bar in Okarche, Oklahoma, touts itself as the oldest bar in Oklahoma. There are eight things on the menu, and if you’re looking to down your meal with a craft brew, you’ll be severely disappointed. You don’t need to look at the menu at Eischen’s. After you slip the party sitting at the table, you want a $50 bill to snag their table when they leave; you’re getting the fried chicken and okra. It’ll come without plates and silverware, so I guess it’s a bit like eating in the days of the land run, but you’ll leave with a full belly and happy as a clam.

Okarche is west of Oklahoma City and a bit of a drive out from town past the wind turbines. When my friend Terry Jones from Edmonton, Alberta, spent some time in Oklahoma City, I asked him to join me at Eischen’s one night to get the whole Oklahoma experience during his stay. Little did I know, that was the start of a food tour of Oklahoma City with someone that’s become a close, dear friend. Terry got lost trying to find the place, and when he arrived, he proudly exclaimed, “It looks just like Saskatchewan out here!” I’ve never been to Saskatchewan, but most of Oklahoma is open land with trees. It’s how we see the tornadoes coming from a literal mile away.

Being in Atlanta spoiled me food-wise. Having everything you wanted, just a delivery or pick-up order away, was excellent and sometimes daunting – do I want Vietnamese or Indian? Pizza or tacos? The choices were endless. My favorite Atlanta spot is an Indian place on the Midtown Promenade at 10th and Monroe. I can also thank Atlanta for expanding my food palette. I’m team pho over ramen now and forever, and the chicken clay pot at Ahn’s on Peachtree Street is a comfort food I didn’t know I needed.

We started a group at the Fed to try to visit one of the Indian places around town one Friday a month. Our ventures took all over the place, but I never had anything as good as Desi Spice. I’d pay someone a large sum to bring me their chicken korma. My love for Indian food, surprisingly, started in Oklahoma City at Sheesh Mahal. The locals know what a gem Sheesh Mahal is, and I’m forever grateful for their compassion. I once met my friend Danielle there for lunch, coming off a terrible cold. Whatever was in the Pakistani tea they gave me was a miracle drug. Oklahoma City is also where I discover harissa, and my life has never been the same.

I’ve had $100 steaks that weren’t nearly as good as the $10 breakfast steak at Cattlemen’s Steakhouse in Oklahoma City. I’d put Cattlemen’s brunch up against any fancy brunch buffet at any Atlanta, New York, or Los Angeles hotel. I talk about Oklahoma a lot. It’s the one place I’ve lived that left an indelible impression on me. I still have a list of my Oklahoma City go-to restaurants. The local food scene there is nothing sort of incredible. Outside of getting my Taco Bueno fix every now and again, I can’t tell you a single chain restaurant I ate at when I lived there. Sonic doesn’t count because, in Oklahoma, Sonic is local.

Food has defined everywhere I’ve lived, but so have the people and landscapes. I once joked on a return to The Mont in Norman that Norman was a lot like the Hotel California – you can check out anytime you like, but you can never leave. By the way, I recommend the green chile burrito with the signature Sooner Swirl at The Mont. Everyone knows it’s not summer in Oklahoma until you’ve had the first Swirl of the season on the patio.

I return to Oklahoma because of the people. Oklahoma City is now the 22nd largest city in the country. It’s also the biggest small town you’ll ever visit. When I returned for a visit in 2018, I decided to ride on the (new-to-me) streetcar. I figured that project had made my life miserable while living there, and I should at least try it out. As I hopped into the car outside Leadership Square, the first person I see is Stephen Koranda. I’d known Stephen for some years when I lived there, and all I could do was laugh. That sums up Oklahoma in a nutshell. Some of us have left for greener pastures, but Oklahoma has some of the kindest people you’ll ever meet.

Atlanta brought Christy, Sam, and Patrick into my life. And Louie and Lemmy. Flanning across Georgia with Patrick was one of the best post-work-road trips ever. Atlanta is a melting pot of cultures, personalities, and never-ending drama. The running joke in town is that since most of us are transplants, the visiting teams have more fans than the home team. It’s somewhat true.

I grew up in a small town in the Piedmont, across the road from a tobacco field in true North Carolina fashion. We were situated between the mountains in the western part of the state and the coast to the east. Being able to see both as a kid spurred my sense of wonderment. But, there’s one place that, above all, stands out. Tucked away in southeastern Oklahoma, not far from Honobia, home to the annual Bigfoot Festival, is Hochatown. Hochatown is home to Beaver’s Bend State Park and the most beautiful place on earth (sorry to everywhere else that wants to claim that distinction.) Now, if you’re looking for five-star dining in Hochatown, I’m afraid you’ll have to bring your own bottle of wine to Abendigo’s.

I first visited the state park with my Leadership Arts class in 2013. After a highly entertaining talent show, we opted to sit outside the lodge, enjoying our beverages and feeding marshmallows to the domesticated deer that roamed. It was that night I first saw the Milky Way. You know the images you see of our galaxy in National Geographic? This looked like a photo you’d find on their Instagram account. I’ll save my list of Oklahoma’s hidden gems for another post, but if you’re lucky enough to snag a cabin rental there, you’ll thank yourself for the time away.

Every place I’ve lived has been so different yet so similar. And it’s interesting to think back on how each has shaped my worldview and who I am today.