When I was much younger a friend of mine, who’d been raised in Georgia, was on a trip including Pennsylvania. He stopped for breakfast at a local diner and, being a poor college student, ordered the two-egg plate, just the eggs, no bacon, ham, or sausage. When he was served, there were two slices of scrapple on the plate besides the eggs. “Woah,” he protested, “I can’t afford that!”
The waitress just smiled. “Honey, it’s just like grits where you come from; everything comes with.”