One can
hardly write about Savannah versus Charleston without writing about the local
food. The Low Country cuisine has a
special place in the American culinary experience. Having enjoyed a few Low Country meals on our
trip and having acquired the appropriate cookbook, my wife and I continue to
make Low Country dishes at home, including much of our Christmas dinner.
Although one
can find good Low Country meals in any of the smaller towns in the coastal
areas, it’s in the cities of Savannah and Charleston where the cuisine intersects
with the larger world and becomes an urban cuisine.
However, for
at least two reasons, I’m a poor judge of good dining. For one, my tastes can be low-brow. If I must ever choose a final meal, it’d
probably be corndogs. Although I’d ask
for Grey Poupon as a condiment.
(Lest you
think that this blog is written with a corndog next to my keyboard, I can
assure you otherwise. I may love them,
but I know to leave them alone. I think
the last time I ate a corndog intentionally was at a poker game in 1997. I use the caveat “intentionally” because I
mistakenly had a corndog at a Memphis ballpark in 2011. I ordered a “Delta Dog” thinking that it
would be southern version of a hot dog.
I was surprised when the concessionaire gave me a giant corndog, but
didn’t complain.)
The other
reason that I’m an imperfect judge of fine Low Country dining is that my wife
and I missed some of the obligatory stops on the Low Country dining tour. In particular, anyone who hopes to offer a credible
opinion on Savannah cuisine must eat at, and be able to compare, Paula Deen’s The
Lady and Sons and Mrs. Wilkes Dining Room.
My wife and I ate at neither. It
was just the way our days worked out.
Nonetheless,
I’ll offer my thoughts on urban eating in Savannah and Charleston. I won’t try to judge best. I’ll just write about what tickled my palate
and my sense of urbanism. And what didn’t.
Our favorite
urban eating experience in Savannah was a diner in the area of the public
squares, away from the tourist hubbub. J. Christopher’s was located in what appeared
to be former car repair shop. The
service was attentive and the food was solid.
For a reason I can no longer recall, I had a chorizo scramble. Despite inexplicably abandoning the Low
Country in favor of the Southwest, I was rewarded with a dish had a great
balance of flavors that played off the spiciness of the chorizo.
J.
Christopher’s seems to have found a place in the heart of the locals. On a subsequent morning when I attempted to return,
I was dissuaded by the long wait.
To my
chagrin, I later found that J. Christopher’s is a regional chain, with about
fifteen restaurants in the Southeast, mostly Georgia. But if all of them integrate into
neighborhoods and provide good food as well as the one in Savannah, I’d be
willing to make an exception to my feelings on chains.
We did a
better job of sampling the wealth of opportunities in Charleston. Our big night out was at Hank’s, near City
Market. The food was good Low Country
fare, fresh local seafood prepared with local produce. But the large dining room and the
white-uniformed waitstaff gave the impression of a dinner house that could have
been anywhere in the U.S. and just happened to be in Charleston. There was no sense of localness to the
experience.
Somewhat
more satisfying was Husk, located in a former home on a side street near the
core of the commercial district.
Following the lead of a baseball/food/fiction blogger whose work I
enjoy, we made a reservation at Husk long before we arrived in Charleston. Husk, which received an award as the best new
restaurant in the U.S. for 2011, almost lived up to my expectations.
I had the pulled
pork sandwich. The meat was delectable, the
flavors were well balanced, and the roll stood up well to the sauce. My wife went lighter, trying the succotash,
and was reminded how well butter can play off of good fresh vegetables. We also split a skillet of bacon cornbread.
Had the
cornbread lived up to our expectations, the meal would have been
excellent. And the cornbread might have
met that standard. Two minutes before it
was removed from the heat. But instead
it was a dry and unsatisfying end to an otherwise enjoyable meal.
However, the
best was yet to come. Our final night in
Charleston was my favorite dining experience.
Jestine was a long-time cook for a local family who loved her Low
Country recipes. Despite many
imprecations, she was never willing to open a restaurant. But after her passing, her relatives and
friends took the leap. And I’m pleased
that they did. Jestine’s was a great
experience.
I tried for
the full Low Country experience, with fried chicken, collard greens, fried
okra, and a piece of Coca-Cola cake for dessert. Except for the cake, was moist and
delectable, the food was good, but not exquisite. The chicken was a little dry, collard greens
are an acquired taste which I haven’t yet acquired, and okra was interesting,
but unexciting.
However,
where Jestine’s worked superbly was a neighborhood meeting place. As the few tourists such as my wife and I watched
on, the waitstaff greeting long-time diners with enthusiasm, parents arrived
with students from the nearby College of Charleston for a family meal, and the place
sang with a harmony of shared memories and good times.
Jestine’s is
what every good neighborhood needs in order to become a great
neighborhood. I could go back there
again and again.
I’ll have
one more post on Savannah versus Charleston, in which I’ll muse about where I’d
rather live. Then I’ll put the Low
Country behind me in time to begin planning for urban travels in the coming
summer. Current plans include San Diego,
Salt Lake City, Spokane, Seattle, Portland, Omaha, and Des Moines. It’ll be a varied and interesting summer.
As always,
your questions or comments will be appreciated.
Please comment below or email me.
And thanks for reading. - Dave Alden (davealden53@comcast.net)
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