Southern Hospitality
Well, I've returned from my South Carolina sojourn having survived my own driving (haven't gotten behind the wheel in six years, so this is no small feat), an unplanned trip to Murrell's Inlet, the awesome responsibility of bustling the bride and the even more daunting task of keeping a valuable cake cutter out of the catering crew's clutches.
And, what have I learned from my trip?
1. I'm not a fan of Red-Eye Gravy.
2. Country Ham is to regular Ham as Belly Lox is to Nova Scotia Smoked Salmon.
3. Grits are grand.
I'll elaborate on these Dixie revelations in order, starting with my introduction to Red-Eye Gravy and Country Ham, which occured in one fell swoop. Said "swoop" happened at the North Myrtle Beach branch of Plantation Pancake House, a large, bustling breakfast joint with the good business sense to solely cater to hardcore breakfast fare fans: morning folk and nocturnal diners. The restaurant doesn't even deal with the dinner crowd, closing between 2pm - 10pm daily.
Grabbing a table in the restaurant's packed "Veranda Room" with a parking lot view and two prominent banners from The Optimist's Club, I felt fairly secure in the authenticity of the place. My Southern friend Melissa scanned the menu and concurred. Her husband Dave, a "Blue Devil," who had spent his fair share of time below the Mason-Dixon line also gave the breakfast selection a strong thumbs up, and kvelled about the friendly, down-to-earth waitstaff. But, it was the fact that both Sausage Gravy and Red-Eye Gravy were spotlighted on the menu that really impressed the couple. A eye-opening combo of black coffee and fried ham drippings, Melissa couldn't help but get misty-eyed talking about her Grandma's Red-Eye Gravy.
So, we had no choice. My corn-fed, Nebraska-born pal Kristin and I ordered up a Biscuit with Red-Eye to split as a starter. And, to round out the Southern breakfast experience, I ordered a side of Country Ham with my Eggs and Pancakes special.
Unfortunately, as you may have guessed, I don't get misty-eyed when I talk about the gravy. I was surprised that it didn't taste at all like coffee, but more like salty ham broth. And, ultimately, my love of ham and coffee aside, it just didn't do it for me.
On the other hand, the slab of super salty pork that followed was a real treat. It only bore a slight smokey resemblence to its typical ham sibling and the salt really packed a wallop. Dunno if I would have enjoyed the Country Ham as much without the soft, simple scrambled eggs and buttery, plain pancakes as counterpoints, but I could definitely see the appeal. (Then again, I'm a lady who prefers her Belly Lox to the Nova Scotia variety.)
As for point three: "grits are grand," I learned that lesson well on the first evening I arrived in Myrtle Beach at a landmark dining establishment called the Sea Captain's House (pictured above). Accompanied by the same gregarious crew, we quickly realized that we stumbled on to a true foodie find when we were told that there was a 45 minute wait at 9pm - and, beyond a khaki short-clad group of overweight golfing buddies, those waiting seemed to be real, live locals.
We were delighted - and starving - when our table was ready. The menu was a mix of Calabash deep fried seafood and more exotically inspired fishy fare. They also offered a rudimentary selection of beef and poultry options - but with a name like Sea Captain House, we knew better than to stray to that part of the menu.
Instead, we all stuck to fairly traditional underwater options - and we started with a doozy of a dish: Scallops and Grits. Presented with a small plate of four spicy pan blackened sea scallops served on creamy smoked cheddar cheese grits topped with green scallion, we had no idea what gourmet gratification lay in wait. With one swift move of our forks, we knew.
We lay waste to the dish in a matter of seconds.
Even with that glorious starter under our belts, Terri, our charmingly gracious waitress could tell that our stomachs were rumbling. She set down a basket of gorgeous hush puppies to keep us tided over until the entrees arrived. White corn sweet, and deep fried golden brown, they were fantastic.
The entrees didn't disappoint. Melissa couldn't even finish her enormous helping of Deep Fried Flounder. Kristen was a bit more successful with her broiled version of the fish. Dave made "all gone" with his heaping Seafood Platter, laden with perfectly cooked, deep fried shrimp, scallops, flounder, oysters and deviled crab. I joined Dave in the "all gone" club. My Long Bay Stuffed Flounder was tender and flaky, stuffed with fresh Atlantic Bluefin crabmeat filling. And then, just to make matters worse - or better depending upon your perspective - it was baked and topped with Hollandaise.
Not the kind of thing you should be eating everyday, but as a once in a while treat, this type of rich, sinful, old-fashioned food should be mandatory - if only to remind us of what it was like to eat before diet fads, goat cheese and sushi took hold of the American psyche.
And, so what do I plan to do with my newfound knowledge of Southern cuisine?
Track down the recipe for the Scallops and Grits. And, then spend some time experimenting with grits to see what other gustatory gold I can uncover in them thar grains of corn.