A Bloody Good Bloody Mary Sunday

Open spaces, yet the nooks offer a hint of privacy.

      

Want just a tad of adventure with your Sunday brunch?  Some ocean views to pleasantly clutter your dreams? If you’re anywhere on the coast of South Carolina, I’ve got a scenic spot, filled with plank-docks, glorious yachts, and  a breathtaking view of the water.  Gulfstream Café, in Garden City Beach.  Name’s not familiar?  It’s just down the street from Murrells Inlet  Murrells rhymes with Girls.  Still confused?  Drive north along the coast from Charleston, about an hour and a half.

What’s so special?  Let’s start with fresh seafood.  Whatever you want.  Maybe you’d like the brunch buffet instead.  Plenty to choose from, including made-to-order omelets.   But for me, being a friend to all things fermented, the highlight is the do-it-yourself Bloody Mary table.

When the waiter offers you a drink, take it.  Say “Bloody Mary,” with manly confidence.  Don’t be surprised when he brings a glass of ice, with a healthy shot of gin or vodka, and a rim incrusted with salty flavors.  The rest is up to you.  Grip the glass firmly and saunter to the café’s well-equipped table.  Besides tomato juice options, there’s every condiment known to civilized, or savage man.  Jalapeños.  Pickled baby onions. Pickled okra. Diced eggs. Et-freaking-cetera.

The result of careful planning

No Sunday breakfast is complete without fluffy, buttermilk biscuits, churned butter, and cream gravy!

 Gulfstream Café

1536 South Waccamaw Drive, Garden City Beach, SC 29576

http://gulfstreamcafe.com/menu/

Bloody Marys are an old favorite.  My memory glides fondly to those made by my cousin, who was also our host for the Gulfstream Cafébunch.  If you can’t get out and about for a Sunday brunch, try his recipe.  If the weather is wonderful, grab yourself a sunny spot.  If not, make a pitcher and snuggle up by the fireside.  Hey, I’m giving you the drink recipe and the setting….don’t expect me to do it all!  Which reminds me of the time, but that’s another story.

Bloody Mary

1 Cup Vodka

1 Jar Beefamato

2 Small cans spicy V-8

1 Lime squeezed and dropped into the pitcher.  Don’t you dare use anything but a fresh lime!

1 Tablespoon Worcestershire Sauce

1 Tablespoon  Tabasco Sauce

If you don’t know what to do from here, you’ll probably spill it all over yourself and blame your wife, you whimp.

McCrady's in Charleston: Come for a Drink. Stay for a while.

Charleston, South Carolina, home to historic Ft Sumter, The Citadel (Military College of South Carolina), The College of Charleston, The Medical University of South Carolina, and the world-renowned Spoleto Festival, is many things to many people. Tourists flock for the history and the food and the festive atmosphere.  Yachts, large and small bob in neat rows at a myriad of sun-bleached docks. 

Charleston reeks of history.  If you think that’s an exaggeration, just follow those tourist-filled, horse-drawn carriages as they prowl the cobblestones. 

Go ahead.  Jump into one of the most special places in North America.  Bask at the beaches.  Bargain at the old, brick vegetable market, or suck down some oysters at a hundred and one places. Stay at a fashionable downtown hotel, or just amble along the confluence of the Ashley and Cooper Rivers and stare at the narrow streets lined with stately antebellum homes.

Ah, but in the evening, when a gentleman and his lady, or his friends, or people he barely knows get thirsty, they have choices.  Slosh down a pint of suds over fried seafood, or winnow through the old section of town and find something worthy of a slow touch and a carefully drawn out evening.

I have often mellowed in Charleston.  Swilled a toddy or two here and there.  Not saying any of the watering holes were bad.  Matter of fact, I’ve darkened a few doorways more than once.

When they say 'alley,' they mean it!

But, this time, I found a special haunt.  McCrady’s Restaurant, tucked away in an historic building at 2 Unity Alley.  No trouble to find.  March along East Bay until you see the sign. Don’t let the word ‘restaurant’ put you off.  The bar is right out of the 1930s.  Carey Grant and Humphrey Bogart style.

Dating from 1788, McCrady’s owns a piece of history.  The building, originally a four story public house, was erected by Edward McCrady and although the inside has been altered, the new owners showed due reverence for a building that is on the National Registry For Historic Places and Landmarks.

My friends and I didn’t go for the food, which I understand is locally gathered and prepared by a noted chef. We went for social drinks, to practice the declining art of relishing each sip, and sharing good conversation. If you want to be surrounded by dark wood paneling, and served by barkeeps who know their libations and didn’t graduate from high school just last week, McCrady’s is the spot.  

When I chat with someone about wine, it grates to hear, “It’s like a really, really fruity Merlot? You know, I like really, really love it with caramel crunch Hagen Daaz?”  Being a person of temperate mood, I usually walk away, rather than empty a full clip and reload. But, I’m always tempted.

Ryan, at your service.

No riffraff behind the bar at McCrady’s, where they proudly call their drink recipes ‘pre-prohibition.’  Ryan, a young, bearded barman, knows his stuff, with just a touch of attitude that lets you know, he ain’t messin’ around.  He really does know his stuff.  My friend, a connoisseur of the Spanish grape, mentioned a notable region and Ryan’s eyes lit up.  He knew the region and pointed out several wines from the award winning wine list.  Ryan also called our attention to a French vintage.  “Small winery, and special.  We seldom score more than a case or two.”  My friend’s eyes rolled back at the first sip.  I gave it a sniff and a smaller sip.  Smooth.  Full nose and full flavor, but easy on the tannin.  Notes of berries and leather.  In short, a 2004 Rhone that made you wish you’d paid more attention in French class.

Lots of other things about McCrady’s are special. Small hand-labelled bottles stand on the bar. Mute testimony to house-made bitters, ready to spice any Manhattan, and even greater testimony to "this is a serious drinking establishment."

For me, it was a beer night.  I went for a dark, almost black, house stout.  Our other two drinkers followed up with a bourbon and a full bodied ale.  Nobody complained.  And nobody said a word for the first few sips.

McCrady’s is like that.  You feel a strong need to linger, to relish the moment.  Shadows fall across the long Mohogany bar.  Look up and you’ll glimpse the second story, where a glass wall protects row after row of wine. Behind you, corner booths offer a nod to privacy.

Feel like a little nosh?  The specials change daily.  Read them off the blackboard at the end of the bar.  We had bite-sized chunks of tender lamb, skewered, grilled, and served in a wooden bowl, with a delicate mint yogurt condiment. 

I already mentioned I’d been to a few other drinking establishments in Charleston.  For the life of me, I can’t remember the names.  Once you’ve found McCrady’s, the rest fade.  It’s a hideaway that makes any evening special.  Take only your closest friends.  You’ll be there awhile.  Cheers!

Pearlz - Slurp Down Those Oysters in Charleston South Carolina

Pearlz Oyster Bar, Charleston, South Carolina...but wait a sec, let’s take a moment to suck in some historic salty air and remember the past...

Charleston’s cobblestone streets have carried the weight of leather soles and horses’ hooves for hundreds of years. The vast port and shoreline has sheltered merchant ships and seen the Pirate’s Jolly Roger. English soldiers and sailors, Confederates, Union soldiers and sailors, and a host of others left their mark. Charleston started as the heart of an English colony and grew to become a center of culture and agriculture in the newly founded United States.  History.  Culture. Food on a grand scale.  What the hell more do you want?

Most people know Charleston as the starting place for the Civil War, or the War of Northern Aggression, as Charlestonians choose to call it. 

Here’s something from an earlier conflict that you may not know.  Although most of the Revolutionary War battles we learn about in history class took place in New England, in sheer numbers, more Revolutionary War battles were fought in South Carolina than in any other state.   It was a long war, 1775 to 1783 and Charleston was smack in the center.

Enough digression.  What’s really important?  Seafood in general, and oysters in particular!  Lots of places to dine on fresh mollusks.  Every corner, every road has a restaurant serving fresh seafood, and the historic downtown area is crammed with ‘em.  Deciding is a challenge.  Fortunately for you, I have faced that challenge victoriously!  

Pearlz is the correct answer.  There are three locations: downtown, West Ashley, and two hours north in the state capital, Columbia.  I wandered into Pearlz on West Ashley and never bothered to try the other two.

An oyster bar is supposed to be dimly lit, with shadows on the walls, fresher than fresh seafood, a New Orleans smell and feel, and lots of style.  I don’t mean style as in Vogue and GQ.  I’m talking about muted colors, tile floors, and people wearing anything from jeans and worn t-shirts to coats and ties. At Pearlz feel free to discuss your glass of remarkable Chardonnay with the stranger on the stool next to you.  It’s one of those American melting pots where everyone is welcome and nobody feels out of place.

Cold beer?  You bet.  Lots of it, including several Pearlz labeled brews on tap.  I usually choose the amber variety.  You want good taste, but not too strong a flavor when you’ve sliding oysters down your throat.  Not feeling the beer urge?  Huge wine selection.  Fab martinis.

Let’s move on to the basics.  So, for the first timers, do you chew raw oysters or just let ‘em slide down your throat?  Chew ‘em, for goodness sakes!  What the hell are you, a barbarian?

Sauce or no sauce?  The real aficionados go the naked route, but I prefer a squeeze of lemon and just a tad bit of red sauce, spiced with horseradish.

Pearlz offers a wide selection of oysters, coming all the way from Canada and the Gulf.    All are fresh, plump and delicious, with just a bare bite of the briny. Is there a difference in flavor?  Yes, there is, but prices vary widely.  I go for the cheapest because they’re wonderful and affordable.  Can’t be because I’m just cheap. Nah...

Even if you’re not in the mood for raw oysters (I offer condolences and hope you feel better) there are dozens of ways to enjoy both oysters and seafood and steak and hamburgers at Pearlz.  The fried shrimp tacos simply amaze! The shrimp are fired in a light batter and served over seasoned lettuce in a flour tortilla. The blackened mahi is divine.  Crusty outside.  Juicy within.

Pearlz also makes it’s own potato chips, so wonderfully crisp and tasty they should grace every table.  No exceptions, especially if you’re ‘lack-of-taste’ intolerant, as I am.

When it comes to restaurants, Charleston rivals New Orleans and is catching up fast.  And, at the end of a trying day of plodding the cobblestones, clopping around on a carriage ride, and gaping at historic Charleston’s churches, plantations, and such, you need a place to cast off the travelers’ blues and unwind.  

You’ve found it! Park your ride.  Slip into dark, air-conditioned comfort. Grab a table, booth, or jump on a bar stool.  You’re primed and ready.  “Barkeep, how about a frosty lager and a dozen on the half shell?” Relax. Dig into fresh seafood. 

Hey, this is Pearlz on West Ashley!  Cheers!

Americana à la Carte

When you enter an American city, even a small one, the tendrils of old time America trail off and disappear into the bulldozed, concreted urban mass.  I’m taking about the fruit and vegetable stands, the mom and pop groceries, the cheap diners with stained tablecloths, and the seafood shops whose hot grease aroma washes over you when you step out of your car.

Across the street from where my parents once lived, there used to be a good-sized stand with a hand painted sign advertising sweet melons.  Bushel baskets of brown skinned onions sat about.  Hand-sized wood cartons of bright red tomatoes, green peppers, green cased ears of corn, and yellow summer squash sat on long, trestle tables.  Down the street, a BBQ joint selling thick sandwiches of smoked pork welcomed you with wisps of fragrant smoke.  No longer.  They’ve been replaced by a branch bank and a big-chain supermarket.  You want some Americana, you have to venture farther a field.  Don’t even bother to look until you glance out the window at green pastures and rows of corn.  That’s when you find out it’s not just the vegetables and BBQ that’s missing.

I was outside Whitesboro, Texas, when I stopped at a vegetable stand.  Didn’t need vegetables.  “I’m lost,” I confessed to a man in jeans, a calico shirt, and a baseball cap.

“Fred,” he twanged at one of his customers, “Do you know where (whare) that road is?”  Fred didn’t know, but he suggested the guy running the bait shop next door might.  I started to walk that way, but Fred had already left.  “Jest a sec,” the owner told me.

About 30 seconds later, the man from the bait shop walked in.  Turned out he didn’t know either, but he led me back to his shop where he had some maps.  The maps did no good, so he called his friend who’s a fireman.  A little while later, I was on my way straight to my destination.  Folks with big, friendly hearts are never too busy to help.

I’m pleased to report I found similar hospitality in the sprawling outskirts of Atlanta.

Truett Cathy’s first Atlanta restaurant was called the Dwarf Grill, a humble beginning to what has become the second largest fast food chain, Chick-fil-a.  Now a nation-wide collection of 1500 plus restaurants, with over $3.2 billion in annual sales, something new has been added, a group of nostalgia-laced eateries called Truett’s Grill, featuring a 1950’s era décor, complete with old cars, gas pumps, naugyhide covered booths, a toy train that races above the diners, and one heck of a southern breakfast.  But, more than that, the waitresses greet you with a “Mornin’, Hon” and hustle to take your order.  Coffee appears as if by mental telepathy.  All of this reflects the humble beginning and humble heart of their employer, Truett Cathy.  Never met the man myself, but good or bad, everything starts at the top.  Talked to a couple who go to church with Truett and couldn’t stop talking about all he’s done for the community and especially for small business just starting out.

Best of all was the breakfast of fried chicken filet, two eggs over easy, grits, and biscuit.  But, I have to admit the meal tasted a little better knowing about the warmth of the man who made it possible.

On the rough edges of Orangeburg, South Carolina, I found Duke’s BBQ.  Found it on a Saturday, as I passed through. Normally, I'm not attracted to BBQ restaurants with a buffet.  Normally.  Dukes was different and even if the smoked pork lacked a bit and the green beans were cooked past their prime, it was still worth a stop, just to observe the folks inside.  If the rough edges of South Carolina still hold to the old ways, you’d never notice at Duke’s. People of every background flock to the place.  High school grads, still wearing their mortarboards came in with their families.  Workmen wore stained clothes while they gobbled their ‘cue.  In one corner, a family and friends in coats and ties and dresses sat and prayed before digging in.

I’m not one of those who hunger for the good old days.  I like some of the big chain stores and the convenience of Internet shopping.  Sill, it’s nice to know the simple, friendly heart of America still beats as strong as ever.

Charleston Farmers' Market

Shrimp Po Boy Charleston Style

Charleston sur l'Atlantique

Fresh as Fresh can be

Georgia is the "Peach State," but SC has their share.

Europe is exciting, but in the U.S. there are also plenty of things to race your engine, whip your pony, and blow your hair back.  Some even come with a certain old world charm.  South Carolina, The Palmetto State, has its own slow, well-aged charm and for my money, the beating heart of that charm is Charleston.  No, it’s not the capitol, you idiot!  That’s Columbia, up I-26 for a couple of hours. When I'm in Charleston, one spot in particular draws me back time after time.

That spot is the Charleston Market.  I’m talkin’ cobblestone streets, women weaving sweetgrass baskets, people smiling and saying ‘y’all’ the way you’re supposed to say it.  On Saturday mornings (8 a.m. – 2 p.m.), from April 7 to December 23, I’m talking about an open air, stroll-through, genuine farmer’s market, where you can actually buy yourself a farmer farm fresh produce from small producers.  Tender okra.  Vine ripened tomatoes.  Shiny skinned onions.  In season, you’ll also find fruits and nuts straight from the green vines and tall, stately trees.  If you’re used to a watermelon picked before it’s time and shipped hundreds of miles, a vine-harvested melon, picked only a couple of hours before you eat it, is going to bring a smile to your face.

The open air market is located in historic Marion Square.  When you stroll the grounds, eyeing fantastic artwork, smelling pots of sweet herbs and oven fresh bread, and nibbling plates of all sorts of delectables, including Charleston’s most famous dish, shrimp and grits, take the time to glance around.  Marion Square was ceded to the then Colony of South Carolina in 1758.  The huge edifice to the north was for a time the colony’s arsenal, then from 1843 to 1922, it was The Citadel, The Military College of South Carolina, which has since moved to the west side of the city. A historic Baptist Church is right across the street.

The square is jointly owned by the Washington Light Infantry, a military and social organization formed in 1807 and the Sumter Guards, another private organization, and leased to the city.  Under the terms of the lease, the city must maintain Marion Square as a green area.

Right next to the square is St. Matthew’s Lutheran Church, with it’s towering steeple.  Founded in 1840 for German speaking congregants, it’s been in it’s current location since 1872.  There’s too much to include about St. Matthew’s, traditionally known as St. Matthew’s German Evangelical Lutheran Church.  But a couple of highlights are that it’s founder, Johann Andreas Wagener would go on to become a general of the Confederate States of America and later a member of Congress.

Marion Square also hosts a statue of John C Calhoun, and an elegantly sparse and moving Holocaust Memorial.

So, while you’re eatin’ your shrimp and grits, lugging your pots of fresh herbs, gawking at the artwork, and picking up those fresh, jubilantly red tomatoes, gaze across Marion Square and soak in the layers of living history.  It’s all around you and one of the big reasons Charleston is such a special place.

The famous shrimp and grits BBQ Style