Anyone can eat one course, scarfed down over the kitchen sink. And two or three courses… that’s just adding dessert or maybe an appetizer. A four-course meal is a civilized thing, but five courses is just a bit more so. There is no such thing in decent society as a six-course meal.

There are 200-plus craft beers to be sampled at the Summertime Brews Festival in the Greensboro Coliseum Annex last Saturday, ranging from supermarket staples to stuff fermented in local garages with mad-science fervor.

A while back while on an assignment, my editor told me about a movement in the world of food. A shift away from fast food. A shift away from the large chain restaurant and more to a place immersed in the local economy. A place that uses as many local products has possible. This idea intrigued me. I thought of down-home local places I was familiar with and one place came to mind: the little white two story house on the corner. Everyone has one in their town: the little restaurant that looks a little rundown on the outside, no just rustic.

Here’s a dirty little culinary confession: I love fried chicken. Freakin’ love it. Always have. And when I moved to the South 20 years ago (good god) I was introduced to a whole new universe of fried chicken.

The Greensboro Women’s Resource Center does a lot of good work — providing classes, counseling and support for women looking for a leg up in the job market or to further their education.

“Okay,” she says, “they’re getting ready to kick everybody out.” “How do they like that?” I ask. She shrugs her shoulders. “We just tell ’em, ‘The movie starts at nine and the seats are reserved.’” There’s only room for about 35 back here on the patio at Sweet Basil’s, the cozy cottage that once housed Café D’Arte, and on Friday nights it fills up fast.

The further back into your childhood you get, the more unclear the memories. The ones I have around my single-digit birthdays include only flashes of images I piece together and from which try to make some sense.

And it's because of hot dogs. More specifically, Takero Kobayashi, the Japanese competitive eater who this year at Coney Island's famous July 4 th Hot Dog Eating Contest came from behind to tie reigning champion Joey Chestnut after 10 minutes of regulation gorging at 59 hot dogs each.

Iro;ve been waiting for Sticks and Stones, Neil Reitzelro;s pizza joint on the corner of Walker Avenue and Elam Street, for years, it seems. And every time I would try to corner Reitzel about the opening date, he would shrug his shoulders and say, ro;Wero;re not really in a big hurry,ro; or words to that effect.

If you're like me, most mornings begin with a short shower followed by a dash out the door, one arm going in a jacket sleeve and a toothbrush hanging from your mouth. The morning meal, if you even have one, features a run through the drive-thru window for a mocha latté from Starbucks or a sausage biscuit from McDonalds. As long as it's hot, fast and cheap, most of us don't care what the ingredients are.