The Holy City

I recently took a trip to Charleston, SC – which was a veritable feast for all the senses. Charleston is a beautiful city with so many gorgeous churches, so many stunning examples of Georgian and Greek Revival architecture – that it kind of made me wish I had paid more attention in architecture class. But one of the more memorable notes of the trip was the fabulous food we had the good fortune of eating.

South Carolina Low-country cuisine is the overlooked step-sister of the Cajun and Creole cuisine further down the road in Louisiana, and is nowhere better showcased than in the city of Charleston. It utilizes a lot of the same coastal seafood – shrimp, fish, crabs and oysters – and many similar flavours and cooking techniques. We were lucky enough to sample both traditional low-country dishes in down-home, unpretentious settings, but also higher end restaurants and their interpretations of the regional cuisine.

I’ve written about this before but to me, I feel that this is the greatest appeal of American cooking. Like other countries with deep histories of food, there are regional cuisines and standards for the New American chef to draw upon. But unlike other countries, American cuisine is unfettered by ethnic boundaries, untethered to the weight of history, and can draw from an ever-expanding palette of flavours and tastes. As the demographic changes, so does the culinary landscape. I feel that more so than in other cuisines, innovation and an ability to synthesise old and new influences and inspirations are rewarded. This means that the adventurous gourmand is continually treated to new flavours and combinations, and it is this eclecticism and originality that I am so fascinated by.

So it was that we tried three examples of finer dining in Charleston – and it was heartening to see that none of the three restaurants we tried veered too far away from the classics in low-country cuisine. Shrimp and grits, she-crab soup, fried oysters and okra were all given prominent stages, but each restaurant added their signature touches. The she-crab soup at Hank’s was richer and creamier, with stronger tastes of sherry, while the version at Anson was lighter and was included a judicious smattering of finely diced tomatoes – which I thought was a nice seasonal touch and added a sweetness that butter could not.

Slightly North of Broad (S.N.O.B’s)
192 E Bay St
Charleston, SC 29401
843-723-3424

Broad St is the artery that divides the Charleston Historic District from everything above it, and as the tour guide pointed out to us – people who live north of Broad are referred to as SNOBs. The ones who live below it are referred to as S.O.B’s, which stands, or course, for South of Broad (what were you thinking?) I picked this fine restaurant admiring their sense of irony, but also because it had received great reviews online. We were not disappointed. S.N.O.B’s was a delightful place, nestled in a 19th century brick warehouse. We sat right in front of the semi-open kitchen, and there were baskets of fresh local produce showcased prominently.

We ate late, so by the time I ordered they were out of the mussels and I had to settle for the oyster stew, which was a little thinner than I had expected and also dominated too much by the smoke from the applewood bacon. I did, however, immensely enjoy my entrée – Carolina quail breast on a bed of smoked field peas. The port wine reduction was exquisite, bursting with flavour and made to exactly the perfect nappé consistency.


Sue had the crab cakes, over a nice summer sauté of corn, okra and other vegetables. I love okra. You don’t see much of it in the Northeast, and it is only after visiting the South that you realize what you are missing.


Karen voted these the best fried oysters of the entire trip, and if you look hard enough you can see the grilled tuna underneath it.


Hank’s Seafood Restaurant
10 Hayne St
Charleston, SC 29401
843-723-3474

Hank’s had less of an eclectic feel to it, even though the outside had resembled an old fish house. Inside, it had the elegant touches of a Chicago steakhouse, with that Old World feel. Somehow, I didn’t get the feeling that I was in Charleston, which was a little disjointing. I was, however, very impressed with our waiter, who despite an unwashed look was efficient, just personable enough, and knew his shit.

I had the she-crab soup to start, which I thought was very good. My entrée was the Seafood a la Wando, which was quite disappointing. Beyond the strong taste of sherry I thought it offered little, and for a dish in the style of illustrious forebears such as bouillabaisse and cioppino, it was a little too one-dimensional.


Sue’s grouper was very pretty, but I did not try it.


Karen’s scallops looked like they were dusted with flour to achieve a deep brown, a technique which Morgan calls “lazy”, but she raved about her dish so I gave it the benefit of doubt. I did try the potato mash and the greens, which were good without being great.



Anson
12 Anson St
Charleston, SC 29401
843-577-0551

This was my favourite of the three restaurants we tried. Anson is located off the main drag of Market St, in a quaint Civil War era carriage house that promises pomp, and delivers it with a human touch. It was genteel without being stuffy, and it kind of reminded me of the French Quarter in New Orleans, and was certainly in the style of the “grand old restaurant”. I half expected a rehearsal dinner, or a engagement party, but it was Sunday evening and the first floor was barely full.

Anson had been a last minute choice, and I knew upon entering that we would not regret it. There are certain subtleties about the front of the house that I notice, certain things that restaurant owners and managers in the know are savvy to. The layout of the floor is a big thing for me. It is not always about squeezing the most covers into the space you have, but rather designing a restaurant that not only allows you to seat people in good spaces, but also allow your waiters, servers and other staff to enter, exit, and fulfill their functions with minimal fuss and maximum efficiency. The situation of the kitchen in relation to the bar, and in relation to the floor, is more important than many realize. At Anson, things just felt right – that everything was in its proper place.

Karen had the she-crab soup to start – she preferred the version from Hank’s the night before, but I liked Anson’s take on it a little better. It was a little more refined, a little less overpowering, and I could taste the crab a little more. I started with these fried oysters, which were dusted with cornmeal and topped with what the waiter called “Green Goddess” sauce – basically a mayonnaise pureed with parsley.


Our entrées were what stole the show. Karen had the triggerfish, which came with roasted cauliflower and currants. I had never had triggerfish, and it was a lean, very flavourful white fish with hints of sweetness. I thought the cauliflower was done really well, and had touches of Cajun spices.


But what I was really blown away by was my entrée of roasted red snapper on a bed of low-country succotash. The red snapper was juicy and tender to the bite, bursting with fresh flavour - it had no need of sauce or other adornment. The succotash was also very tasty, and included sliced okra. Needless to say, I finished every last bit of it.


We shared a dessert of sweet corn ice cream, which was an inspired choice. It was just light enough for us to handle after a heavy meal, and sweet enough to round our dinners off on the right note. I was a little tipsy at the end of the night (Karen was the designated driver, which meant I had to finish a whole bottle by myself), but who’s counting?



***Photos courtesy of the lovely Ms Karen Lee.