There are some of us who believe that the fluffiness of our biscuits is as important to signifying who we are as is the grandness of our hair.

That, of course, is saying a lot.

I believe I have always known this on some deep, hidden level. But, as is most things in our Southern culture, it was such an innate part of our women that I had never taken time to fully digest it mentally.

Then on the occasion of a recent soiree at my house, I found myself thoughtfully chewing on this delicious piece of Southern womanhood.

I invited the divas over for an afternoon pajama party. My friend, Kim, a talented designer, had completed a make-over of my bedroom. She had been begging to do it, so, finally, I said, "Go to it. Just don't bother me to make any decisions."

The result was stunning so I threw a party to celebrate and firmly instructed the divas that all were to wear pajamas or gowns and robes.

Mama agonized for weeks over which was her prettiest gown. For two weeks prior to the soiree, each time I was at her house, she would pull out another set from the cedar chest and say, "What about this one?" Finally, we settled on a darling peignoir set colored sky blue.

So, the divas gathered in my bedroom for the party and everyone looked nocturnally lovely, including Dixie Dew, my dachshund, who was adorable in a pair of Noah's Ark jammies.

Of course, this called for food. Like all Southern women I know, I was worried that I might not have enough.

A few days before, I called a couple of divas, with a particular genius for baking, and asked them to bring something. Something as in "one thing."

I knew I was in trouble when Sue arrived first with huge silver trays laden with food. That was the beginning of an avalanche of sugar and flour.

It reminded me of Mama's dinner table for company, which always includes fried chicken and roast beef, cornbread and biscuits, blackberry cobbler and chocolate cake as well as several dishes of vegetables.

"Why?" I asked the divas gathered in my bedroom as they munched on the bounty. "Why do we Southern women always cook too much?"

The answers were varied.

"It's how we show love," Debbie said. This was particularly interesting since her husband does the cooking at her house.

"It's a courtesy thing," Louise pointed out. "You don't want someone to leave hungry."

"It may be a bit of ego but cooking for guests is an event to us," said Shannon.

Judy pointed out what we all know and why we subscribe to hours over the stove. "It's tradition."

Nicole gave my favorite answer. "Southern women are horrified by an empty dish. If all the green beans are gone, then you didn't cook enough. Nothing's worse."

Whatever the reason, it's certainly food for thought. Pan-fried in Crisco, of course.