Shrimp & Grits
The Volbergs at a rental house on Fripp Island, before Nonnie and Granddaddy built their place on the marsh. I’m the little squinty one.
Mom, the chicest jaywalker in town, in Charleston, SC.
It’s Palm Sunday, so I figured I’d write about the Palmetto State, South Carolina. I’ve mentioned earlier that my grandparents built a vacation home on Fripp Island in South Carolina’s Low Country. We usually spent a week or so a year there, longer when my parents would leave us with our grandparents so they could escape for an adventure. I referred to Fripp as “Fantasy Island”, you know the popular weirdo TV show with Ricardo Montalban. The landscape looked much the same: palm trees, beaches & lagoons. Apparently some of the Vietnam parts of Forrest Gump were filmed on Fripp. As kids, my sister and I had free rein on the island, riding bikes all around, going to the island’s little store for snacks, checking out the action at the marina. The only thing we were warned about were the alligators. Encountering an alligator was an actual possibility! They were usually in the water but sometimes they roamed on land, particularly around the golf course. Over the years, I never heard of any little girls getting snatched at Fripp, but plenty of golf balls met their fate. Apparently they look similar enough to eggs that those poor alligators thought they have a breakfast buffet!
My husband’s family has a tradition, they like to read poetry at the table on holidays, each person bringing a contribution. One Easter we were at Uncle Mike’s and I brought this Mary Oliver poem. It’s not an Easter poem, per se, but it’s about new beginnings and I thought it was appropriate for Holy Week.
Alligator Poem
I knelt down
at the edge of the water,
and if the white birds standing
in the tops of the trees whistled any warning
I didn't understand,
I drank up to the very moment it came
crashing toward me,
its tail flailing
like a bundle of swords,
slashing the grass,
and the inside of its cradle-shaped mouth
gaping,
and rimmed with teeth—
and that's how I almost died
of foolishness
in beautiful Florida.
But I didn't.
I leaped aside, and fell,
and it streamed past me, crushing everything in its path
as it swept down to the water
and threw itself in,
and, in the end,
this isn't a poem about foolishness
but about how I rose from the ground
and saw the world as if for the second time,
the way it really is.
The water, that circle of shattered glass,
healed itself with a slow whisper
and lay back
with the back-lit light of polished steel,
and the birds, in the endless waterfalls of the trees,
shook open the snowy pleats of their wings, and drifted away
while, for a keepsake, and to steady myself,
I reached out,
I picked the wild flowers from the grass around me—
blue stars
and blood-red trumpets
on long green stems—
for hours in my trembling hands they glittered
like fire.
While we are on the topic of alligators – let’s see how long I can milk this – there was a time in my life when this art girl had preppy aspirations. It was the very early 80s and I was DESPERATE to be preppy and outraged that I wasn’t named something like Blaire. I don’t remember exactly what the appeal was, maybe I was just trying to be au courant, but preppy-mania was sweeping the US. Even 10 year olds like me were reading “The Preppy Handbook”, wearing Add-a-Bead necklaces, and carrying Bermuda Bags with strawberries embroidered on the corner.
As a little prepster, I had champagne taste with a beer budget. There was no way Dad (or even our more indulgent mom) would go in for multiple Izod Lacoste shirts, the staple of the look. I needed to think outside of the box to be able to maintain my Glenwood Elementary School Preppy Girl street cred! I’m not sure if it was me or Mom who came up with the idea, but we took the little alligators off of the few old Izod shirts I had that had been outgrown and then sewed them onto new no-name knock off shirts that we bought at Sears or somewhere equally un-chic. We did this multiple times and even to a sweater that I got at the thrift shop! (You can see that featured in the photo below.) As far as I know, no one ever caught on to us. The faux-zods were then paired with either the Calvin Klein jeans my aunt gave me for Christmas or a pair of lavender buttoned knee KNICKER PANTS (yup! you read that right) that Mom sewed for me. My mother always had my back.
The thrift shop fake Izod sweater in the left school photo, and the Izod birthday cake Mom made for my 11th birthday on the right.
In celebration of the Palmetto State and its various critters, I figured I’d share a recipe for an iconic Low Country dish, shrimp & grits. Mom had a few recipes for this treat but I’m posting my favorite, the one I learned to cook, Bill Neal’s (of Crooks Corner fame). It’s the one Craig Claiborne raved about in the NY Times! You’ll rave, too, I bet.
SHRIMP & GRITS
1 pound medium-size fresh shrimp (peeled & deveined if desired)
6 slices bacon
Peanut oil
2 cups sliced fresh white mushrooms
1 cup sliced scallions
1 large clove garlic, minced
2 teaspoons fresh lemon juice
Dash of Tabasco sauce
2 tablespoons chopped fresh parsley to taste
1 recipe Cheese Grits, hot
Rinse the shrimp and pat dry on paper towels. Set aside.
Dice the bacon and fry lightly in a large skillet until browned at the edges but not too crisp. Drain the bacon on paper towels and set aside.
Add enough oil to the fat in the skillet to make a thin layer. Heat over medium-high heat until the fat is quite hot. Add the shrimp and cook until they begin to color. Add the mushroom and saute, stirring frequently, about 4 minutes. Spring with the scallions and bacon, then add garlic. Season with the lemon juice, Tabasco, parsely, salt, and pepper.
Divide the grits among four warm plates. Spoon the shrimp mixture over the top and serve immediately.
CHEESE GRITS
1 cup stone-ground grits
4 cups water
1/2 teaspoon salt
4 Tablespoons unsalted butter
1/2 teaspoon ground white pepper
Pinch or more of cayenne pepper
Very small grating of fresh nutmeg
1 cup shredded sharp Cheddar cheese, or more to taste
Salt to taste
Pour the grits into a large bowl and cover with cold water. Skim off the chaff as it floats to the surface. Stir the grist about and skim again until all the chaff has been removed. Drain the grits in a sieve.
Bring 4 cups water to a boil in a medium sized saucepan. Add the salt and slowly stir in the grits. Cook at a simmer, stirring frequently, until the grits are done – they should be quite thick and creamy – about 40 minutes.
Sarah’s note: This might be blasphemy, but I skip this part and just use quick grits (note: NOT instant grits)
When grits are fully cooked, remove from the heat, and add the rest of the above ingredients. Stir until smooth. Serve immediately or hold over simmering water in a double boiler for up to 30 minutes.
Sarah’s note: I like to add Worcestershire sauce to my cheese grits
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