Don’t be deceived like the spider and the ant: This plant is a predator, designed to kill. Drawn by glistening nectar glands, an insect touches off trigger-like plant hairs rooted in a hinged leaf blade. There’s no escape: Electricity pulses through the plant at four inches per second. Special cells react, tripping the leaf trap that can snap shut in less than one-tenth of a second. If that weren’t horrifying enough, the Venus flytrap then begins its denouement: Digesting its prey with specialized enzymes. Stewed bug, served cold. Yummy.
Venus flytraps love the Carolinas: The carnivorous plants grow natively in the coastal bogs around Wilmington.
In North Carolina, spring brings the scent of fresh-cut grass and memories of helping Dad mow the lawn.
Nostalgic burger joints are like time machines, delivering something extra special that keeps us coming back.
This tiny city block in downtown Greensboro once had a gigantic reputation. Not so much for its charbroiled beef patties — though they, too, were plentiful — but for its colorful characters and their wild shenanigans.
In the 1950s, as Americans hit freshly paved roads in shiny new cars during the postwar boom, a new kind of restaurant took shape: the drive-in. From those first thin patties to the elaborate gourmet hamburgers of today, North Carolina has spent the past 80 years making burger history.
