Southern Grit opened a few weeks ago in the Old City on the corner of South Central Street and Willow Avenue where Big Don’s used to sit. Since opening, it has quickly become a favorite among downtown diners. Now that it has had enough time to work out its opening kinks and the holidays have come and gone, I decided to try it out for myself and see what all the fuss was about.
Walking into the restaurant, you immediately notice how well the restaurant utilizes the space. It is open, airy and comfortably naturally lit. Seats are arranged so that a party of 12 or a couple can be seated in close proximity and not feel too on top of one another. Canned music plays from hidden speakers, providing just the right amount of background noise, and the kitchen is removed far enough from the dining room that the din of cooking is a nonissue.
The bar is large yet far enough removed from the general seating area that a group of folks could be at it watching a sporting event and carrying on and the hubbub not be too much to spoil a couple’s dinner. The roominess of the restaurant is a nice contrast to a lot of the other more shotgun-architecture-style establishments that are common in the older parts of downtown.
I sat at the bar and ordered a cocktail that made use of one of my favorite locally produced spirits: PostModern Spirits’ Giniferous Gin. The cocktail itself was called Fancy Pants and combined the gin with champagne, lemon and the juice from a bourbon cherry, among other ingredients, to form a beverage that had never worked a day in its life … but still tasted like a million bucks. Light, floral and complex, it was fruit-forward and sweet, but not overly so.
For an appetizer, I followed the hostess’s recommendation and got the fried green tomatoes. As a cornerstone dish of any good Southern restaurant, I was interested to see what this establishment’s take on it would be, and I was not disappointed. The tomatoes were thickly sliced and fried lightly in cornmeal, then arranged almost like a sushi roll on the plate with the slices held together by pimento cheese. The roll and plate were then drizzled liberally with a spicy house-made honey.
The overall presentation was striking and a nice upgrade from what could have been some tomato slices and a scoop of cheese on a plate. The tomatoes were firm and of an appropriate ripeness, and the delicate breading provided just the right amount of grit to offset the creaminess of the pimento cheese. Flavor-wise, the pimento cheese was a bit bland, but the heat and flavor of the spicy honey more than made up for it. It brought to mind wildflowers and summer sun, both bees and bee stings. It was really the highlight of the dish, and though mellowed a bit by the cheese’s creaminess, it could still be a little too much heat for some palates. It was a solid appetizer and a worthy take on the old standard.
For my entrée, I chose the chicken tender plate with cheddar grits and creamed collards for my sides. Though grits are seeing a bit of a culinary resurgence as of late among so-called “new-Southern” restaurants, I still was intrigued to see them offered as a regular dinner side. As for the greens, creamed collards would not necessarily have been my first choice, but I could hear my late grandmother’s voice in my ear telling me to eat something green with dinner, so … yes, ma’am. I got the tenders because the option not only afforded me the chance to try out the restaurant’s claim to fame (fried chicken), but also to sample their three levels of heat: Southern, medium and hot.
Let me take a moment here to thank the kitchen staff directly for being so willing to honor my request. Even though it was for research purposes, I know they had to have cringed a little when the order came back asking for one Southern tender, one medium tender and one hot tender, so I wouldn’t recommend it in real life. My order came out promptly and was hot and correct on the first try. The plating was no-frills, just food on a plate, but picky eaters who don’t like for their different food items to touch will be glad to know that the sides were delivered in their own little serving bowls.
The meal also came with a complimentary biscuit. As a lifelong Southerner, a bad biscuit is an automatic fail for the rest of your meal, so I was glad to find the Southern Grit biscuit to be warm, fluffy and delicious. For a special treat, get one fresh from the oven with some of the house-made pepper jelly on the side into which to dip it.
The cheddar grits I chose for my first side were smooth and pleasantly cheesy, though a tad on the salty side for my taste. Much to my surprise, I actually enjoyed the creamed collards even more (thanks, Grandma). The collards were flavorful and cooked just enough to be done. Unlike some of the other Spinach Maria-type dishes you may see at other restaurants that are just green mush mixed with fancy cream of mushroom soup, this side featured the collards themselves more and the cream as just a nice supporting flavor/textural combo. Very nicely done.
As for the tenders, to describe them generally first, they were all lightly fried, crisp on the outside and moist on the inside. There were no obnoxious chunks of breading that flaked off all over the place, and they all were well-seasoned with spices, not just tossed in a sauce. The Southern heat level had just your basic savory flavor profile. No heat whatsoever, but good flavor. Suitable to dip into your favorite sauce or just enjoy plain. If we’re comparing these tenders to Rihanna songs (because why not?), this one is “Umbrella.” It’s just your basic pop song.
Moving up to medium, there is a definite change in flavor. The overall profile is a bit smokier, and the heat, though not overwhelming, definitely hits you on the back end. These tenders are “S & M” Rihanna: poppy enough for the radio but with a definite edge. Last but certainly not least, I tried the hot tender, and well … they were not playing around. I like to live on the edge, so these were probably my favorite. But to be clear, hot definitely means HOT. I think I remember the waitress saying something about ghost peppers, but I couldn’t hear her well over the sound of my tongue transitioning from this mortal plane to whatever lies beyond. The flavor was full of smoke and danger. Lip tingling, fire-breathing deliciousness. Dip them into the pepper jelly or the spicy honey and prepare yourself. These tenders are “B***h Better Have My Money” Riri, and you should enter at your own risk.
Stuffed but for the sake of research, I then got what’s listed on the menu as the Seasonal Skillet Cobbler for dessert. Currently, that shakes down to a blueberry peach cobbler that is topped with a generous scoop of vanilla ice cream. They bake it to order in a massive cast iron skillet, then spoon the individual servings into stoneware-type dishes that keep the whole thing hot while you eat it. It’s definitely a sharer, so plan to get a couple of spoons and split this between friends (or you and the Rihanna of your choice from above). The cobbler is not quite like Grandma used to make, but it will do in a pinch. Traditional baking spices serve as a nice contrast to the syrupy sweetness of the peaches and the blueberries that make up the core of the dessert. The topping was unremarkable, but it didn’t need to be anything special; it served its purpose as a mere textural contrast to the fruit and ice cream. Hot and cold, spicy and sweet, there are far worse ways that one could wrap up a meal.
Overall, I give Southern Grit high marks for its food, its location and its versatility. It’s truly a place where you can go for a first date or a 50th, with your coworkers after a long day or with your family to celebrate a major life event at a price point that won’t break the bank. It’s food the way your grandma would have made it if she’d gone to culinary school and had a tattoo that only your grandpa knew about. It’s new, it’s traditional and it’s right at home in the heart of an Old City that is rapidly reinventing itself in new and exciting ways.
