When I first visited Houston in 1990, an old school friend took me to a Tex-Mex restaurant where she had to summon the server for more water for me. Oh, yes, it was a little hotter than I had anticipated and I really was not sufficiently warned! 

When I was first in East Texas twelve years ago, Hubby and I were at a pancake house. When my eggs were served, I noticed there was no ketchup on the table. I asked for some. 

Well, we are on a highway that will ultimately link Port Huron, Michigan and Laredo, Texas, so one assumes that people of all tastes will be coming through. 

The server asks what I want ketchup for. We tell her for eggs and she is really upset! So, Hubby gives her a little lecture about Canadians coming through here and Canadians like ketchup on their eggs so she might need to get used to it! 

When I would see a small size bottle of hot sauce on a restaurant table, I would think about that being a life time supply for a girl like me from 50s Toronto. 

Then, we started visiting Louisiana, home of Tabasco and imagine my amazement to see an aluminum holder containing five (5) bottles of differently spiced Tabasco Hot Sauces. Further, imagine my wonder at the Tabasco souvenirs in the gift shop, the most interesting being a man’s tie. Whoa! These people take their hot sauce pretty seriously! 

I must mention here that there are many other brands of hot sauce, some in very attractive bottles with cute little wooden lids. I know not to open these bottles! 

I also know to ask the server to ask the chef to “kick it DOWN a notch on the dressing” for my King Louis Salad at Ralph & Kacoo’s. (For you Canucks, this is a Louisiana Cajun Restaurant which became my fave after I got the ordering right.) 

So, I was having a telephone conversation with my friend Judy who lives just east of Toronto and on the staff at a retirement community. She told me about a Southerner, visiting his mother and staying there in the guest suite. He asked why there was no hot sauce at breakfast. Judy asked him what that was for. He told her the eggs, of course. 

I suggested that Judy go out and purchase a little bottle of Tabasco Sauce and presumably the Southern Gentleman now feels at home on his visits. 

Adjustment to the South has been comprised of a lot of little things you would never think about when moving here. But I cope! Pass the Heinz Ketchup, please! Hold the Tabasco, though!