I was raised on grits. You know the kind that popped all over the range and stuck to the bottom of the pan. I love them with butter and cheddar cheese. Growing up my mother would make them with country ham and red eyed gravy. I can remember on cold afternoons my Dad would come home with Butch our bird dog and he would have Quail stashed in every pocket in his hunting vest. I knew then we would be having grits and gravy with Quail fried to a golden brown. Gosh it was so good!