A return to a simpler way of life


I first fell in love with cooking in Charleston, S.C. My father's job with a national restaurant chain moved our family to many regions of the country and ultimately landed us in Charleston, the major port in the South Carolina Low Country. Amid palmetto trees and plentiful creeks, I found my place in the kitchen, and it was only natural that Low Country cuisine became the food of my heart.

While I had inherited my father's zeal for the restaurant business, I never pictured myself in the kitchen. But when I was 19 and had just arrived in Charleston, my father encouraged me to apply for a job at Silks, the original restaurant at the Planter's Inn.

It was love at first sight. Walking into Silks, I was immediately drawn to the open kitchen with its gleaming copper pots; Italian emerald-green tile; shining stainless-steel equipment; and rotisseries crowded with whole roasting pheasants, snails and wild mushrooms. This kitchen underscored the utter beauty of food, in all states of preparation, and I wanted to be part of it. Silks introduced me to a whole new approach to cooking - the pristine equipment, the finest ingredients and the most talented, enthusiastic mentors inspired my passion for food and only the highest standards of cuisine.

But it wasn't Silks that sparked my affection for Low Country cooking. In 1984, Low Country cooking was almost exclusively the food of the home. Restaurants may have served a dish or two that hinted at the Low Country tradition, but Low Country cooking had to be experienced in everyday life, not ordered from a leather-bound menu.

The Low Country is the lush, subtropical coastal land of South Carolina that extends from the ocean to about 90 miles inland. The tradition of Low Country cooking started as far back as the late 1600s, with the mixing of French and English settlers and West Africans in Charleston. When they merged cultural cuisines and used the fresh, local ingredients introduced to them by Native Americans, Low Country cooking was born.

So it was in everyday Charleston life that I learned Low Country cooking: watching friends' mothers and grandmothers stir steaming pots of collard greens and hopping John; smelling the sweet, comforting aroma of braised pork on a cool winter day; attending backyard oyster roasts in early autumn; and buying fresh crowder peas, butter beans and okra at the outdoor market.

I can't forget shrimping at 4 a.m. in the tidewaters and my mother's sauteing our fresh catch in butter and serving it over steaming grits (it was breakfast, of course). My connection with Low Country cooking is a connection with the true history of America - it's tradition, family and home.

As a chef of Low Country cooking, I feel like a historian of sorts, clinging to authentic recipes and time-honored techniques, such as making buttermilk biscuits with lard, scraping sweet corn from the cob for spoon bread and buying grits from a family mill in South Carolina.

My classical French training at the Culinary Institute of America is perfectly compatible with Low Country cuisine. Aside from the obvious French influence in South Carolina, French cooking and Low Country cooking use the same approach to methodology: slow, careful preparation of the purest ingredients using timeless technique.

For example, perlau is a Low Country version of the French pilau, a classic rice preparation. A perlau is simply a pilau enhanced by local, seasonal produce and seafood. When I create my seafood perlau - crowded with shrimp, clams, mussels and grouper; flavored with a rich seafood stock, a touch of white wine and chopped, ripe tomato - I step hundreds of years into the past, cooking like a true Charlestonian Huguenot!

Low Country cooking is more a philosophy than a method: Start with the freshest, purest ingredients and prepare them with time-honored techniques. A Low Country meal starts at the local market for the finest seasonal ingredients.

There is no mystery to it: Fresh, local food simply tastes better (aside from being more healthful). Readily available mid-Atlantic ingredients like peppers, eggplant, tomatoes, corn and beans are typical in Low Country dishes.

Low Country recipes are usually simple and sensible - this timeless approach to cooking realizes that uncomplicated, savory ingredients, combined to offer balanced flavors and textures, result in the most successful dishes. Natural ingredients, traditional inspiration and sensible experimentation take us back to cooking the way our great-grandmothers did.

Low Country cooking is cooking from the heart. It's as comforting to prepare as it is to eat. It is a return to the simpler, richer, slower way of life - a welcome respite for today's world.

Chef Cindy Wolf is co-owner and executive chef of Charleston restaurant and Petit Louis Bistro in Baltimore.

Creamy Grits

Serves 6

4 cups whole milk

2 ounces butter

2 tablespoons kosher salt

1 cup grits (see note)

In a large, heavy saucepan, bring milk, butter and salt to nearly a boil and stir in grits. Reduce heat to low and cook uncovered for 30 minutes, stirring frequently. Be sure grits do not stick and burn on bottom of saucepan.

Note: Mine are stone ground grits from Anson's Mill in South Carolina. It'll ship orders if you call 803-467-4122.

Fresh Corn Spoon Bread

Serves 6

2 cups sweet white corn

8 whole eggs

4 egg yolks

1 quart heavy cream

1 cup cooked grits

1 tablespoon kosher salt

pinch of black pepper

Preheat oven to 300 degrees. Husk corn, de-silk and cut kernels from the cob into a small bowl. Scrape the cob with a knife over the bowl for the "milk." Whisk eggs and egg yolks together. Combine all ingredients in a large bowl, stirring well.

Butter and flour a 9-inch square casserole dish. Pour Spoon-bread batter into dish. Bake in a water bath at 300 degrees for approximately 1 hour. (Spoon bread should be solid when jiggled.) Spoon hot right from the casserole dish to serve.

Seafood Perlau

Serves 2 (recipe can easily be doubled or tripled)

2 tablespoons olive oil

8 large shrimp, peeled and deveined

four 1-ounce pieces of grouper

1 pint seafood stock

2 ounces dry white wine

12 mussels

8 clams

1 ripe tomato, small dice

2 tablespoons butter

Tabasco to taste

salt to taste

1/2 cup white rice

2 tablespoons chives, finely chopped

Heat a large saute pan over high heat. Add olive oil. Saute shrimp and grouper until halfway cooked. Deglaze the pan with seafood stock and white wine.

Add mussels and clams. Stir in chopped tomato, butter, Tabasco, salt and rice.

Cover pan and simmer on low heat until rice is tender and shellfish have opened. Sprinkle with chives and serve in shallow bowls. Accompany with crusty bread and white burgundy.

Copyright © 2019, The Baltimore Sun, a Baltimore Sun Media Group publication | Place an Ad