What’s left to say about grits? A few things, as it happens …
We stir it up, butter it and invite our adversaries to kiss it. And should anyone cast it in an unfavorable light, we will hotly defend its honor.
I am talking grits. Not as in “G.R.I.T.S. (Girls Raised in the South, who can handily defend their own honor, thank you) but as in dried corn ground into grain for the making of sacred porridge.
Why sacred? Because the story of grits is the story of Southerners. I can’t think of many foods so deeply entwined in Southern culture that tracing their origins requires an exploration of our own.
Grits, personally
Delve into U.S. historical accounts of indigenous tribes, European settlers, plantations, slave kitchens, small farms, big industry, economic strife and agricultural/culinary trends, and you will find grits.
Remarkably, this earthy food has played a role in everything from establishing human relationships and evoking human suffering to providing sustenance for the poor to contributing to a melting pot culture. When American colonists signed on for that Muscogee cooking class and learned to whip up a pot of maize porridge, it was the beginning of something big. But enslaved Africans perfected the concept and made it decidedly Southern.
When it comes to South Carolina and grits, you can say the ties are personal. Grits history is so intimately ingrained in our own that they were once known as “Carolina grits” or “Charleston grits” — this according to the book Taste of the State by Palmetto State culinary historians, Chef Kevin Mitchell and Dr. David Shields.
In recent years, this connection has regained relevance thanks to a “grits renaissance” driven by Anson Mills founder Glenn Roberts, chefs like former Husk proprietor Sean Brock, and enthusiastic seed savers who helped restore heirloom corn varieties and promote old school cultivation, milling and cooking techniques.
Grits, legally
But it has been a long road to the pinnacle for ground corn products. And sometimes, that road was tragic. During research, I came across a surprising tidbit of historical significance: South Carolina has actual cornmeal and grits codes of law. Really.
I was especially riveted by the following from Section 39-29-20:
Each pound of corn meal and each pound of corn grits shall contain not less than two milligrams and not more than three milligrams of vitamin B-1 (thiamine), not less than one and two-tenths milligrams and not more than one and eight-tenths milligrams of riboflavin, not less than sixteen milligrams and not more than twenty-four milligrams of niacin or niacin amide and not less than thirteen milligrams and not more than twenty-six milligrams of iron.
What the what? I fished a bag of Marsh Hen Mill guinea flint grits from my freezer — no mention of added vitamins. Were laws being broken? (Not that I cared — nothing comes between me and my guinea flint!) It was time to put in a call to my No. 1 source for expert culinary insights: Glenn Roberts. He was just leaving a Quaker farm somewhere up north after delivering some much-needed heirloom oat seeds.
“So, what’s the deal on these South Carolina cornmeal and grits codes?” I asked. “Do you actually have to enrich your grits before you sell them?”
He chuckled and had me read the codes aloud. Then, he launched into a masterful explanation of their origins. To summarize, in the early 1900s there was a perplexing outbreak among poor Southerners of a condition called pellagra. Many people suffered dementia, severe skin conditions, and even death. Because it was thought to be contagious, dedicated asylums were established to care for the afflicted. This went on for many years.
When scientists suspected dietary deficiencies to be the cause, Southern pride was heartily wounded, and widespread outcries ensued. The idea that our regional diet was somehow lacking was a grievous affront. So, more people suffered and died. In the end, however, those theories were proven correct. It seems poor Southerners were relying so heavily on cornmeal and grits for nourishment (along with molasses and salt pork) that they suffered severe niacin deficiencies — hence the pellagra and its alarming human toll.
South Carolina led the way in addressing the issue, making fortification of cornmeal and grits a requirement. There are exceptions, however, to these rules, according to Roberts.
“We (Anson Mills) operate under the watchful eye of national agencies,” he said. “But as far as enrichment, it is required by the federal government anytime you sell more than $1 million retail of product with the exception being if you are a historic mill. Then, you are not under FDA compliance. From a European standpoint, corn grown correctly never needed enrichment.
“The truth is that the key to nutritious grits is not to add chemicals but to grow corn correctly.”
Unfortunately, the Second Industrial Revolution changed how corn was grown and processed, essentially eliminating water milling in favor of mass production. This resulted in a cheaper product with diminished taste and nutrition. Thanks to visionaries like Roberts, our historic mills are now revered for re-introducing heirloom varieties of naturally nutritious and delicious grits into our foodways. It is a gift that invites us to acknowledge our relationship with grits through a historical lens and celebrate it as a source of comfort, nourishment and Southern culinary pride. In the process, we are the ones enriched and fortified.
Tasteful tributes
While history can contribute to present-day clarity, most diners aren’t thinking such deep thoughts when seeking a grits experience. They want authentic Lowcountry cuisine, and local chefs know how to deliver. Their commitment to serving heirloom grits is how they honor the past and support the important work of today’s local mills.
At S.N.O.B. (Slightly North of Broad), that support can be measured in pounds, as in 50 pounds of yellow corn grits cooked up each week for their famous shrimp and grits. The brand of choice for executive chef Russ Moore: Marsh Hen Mills.
“What Greg Johnsman and crew are doing out on Edisto Island is truly a service to the community, providing a mill to process lots of locally grown grains, many of them heirloom varieties that have historical roots in the Lowcountry,” he said. “That mill is really an asset for a lot of local growers and chefs in our community.”
That is especially true at Mount Pleasant’s Grace & Grit, where chef and proprietor Frank Kline practices the delicious art of grits-craft. The 30 to 50 gallons of grits it takes each day to satisfy hungry customers are a testament to his talents. This wizard of grits fearlessly blurs lines and breaks boundaries to thrill an appreciative fan base.
“I love the unique ability for grits to adapt to just about any flavor profile you desire,” said Kline, who favors Jimmy Red and stoneground Adluh grits. “My background is in Southern-focused seafood, and grits have a way of balancing those dishes. Everyone knows shrimp and grits, but fish and grits are truly the staple at Grace & Grit.”
A menu highlight is the Grit Flight, a fanciful quartet infused with pimento cheese, Brussels pesto, peaches & cream, and blueberry. But fruity grits? That’s a line not many Southern chefs are willing to cross.
“I guess I’ve always been a bit of a rebel,” explained Kline. “But I do follow the rule that no self-respecting Southerner uses instant grits. I’m always excited to see the reactions to both the flavors and colors of some of our sweeter grits. At the end of the day, grits being corn means they have been naturally sweet from the start. I’m just trying to help them find their way home.”
And you can take Chef Kline literally. Here, he shares his tried-and-true formula for getting great grits results at home.
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