Charleston. An arterial adventure. « blogging for burgers

Charleston. An arterial adventure.

Cotton country.

It’s hard for me to believe that Burgergal and I went to Charleston, SC, nearly a month ago.  It served as my third foray into the American South in the last few months, and I was looking forward to experiencing yet another region’s unique food and historic offerings.  Going to the Low Country, I knew that shrimp and grits, fried chicken, and other unhealthy goodness would be in my future.

Rather than bore you with endless words, I think I will take a different approach to this post and treat you with a photoessay about the burgerbuddies’ trip down to South Carolina.

We went from standing on the tarmac at the Charleston Airport….

… to digging on swine, all in about an hour…

At Sweatman’s whole hog barbecue.  They’re open two days a week (Friday and Saturday), so don’t try to go for Sunday dinner.  It’s delicious.

It’s a buffet and all-you-can-eat, so wear stretchy pants.

But be sure to save room for dessert… banana pudding!

(it feels like I am writing a children’s book)

Back in Charleston, it was time for iced coffee.  Walking on East Bay St., it’s the Charleston branch of Baked.

They have cakes and brownies and more!

After a break, it was time for some food, so we headed to Hominy Grill, we had heard it was good.

(Oh yeah, slant rhyme in the house.)

Boiled peanuts are caviar of the South.  They are an acquired taste.  A taste that I have acquired.

Started with pickled eggs, prosciutto, and pimento cheese.  Let’s get the cholesterol on.

Burgergal had a BLT, but with fried green tomatoes.  How to make something on the borderline of unhealthy fall into the unhealthy zone.

Shramp and grats.

The pièce de résistance: the chocolate pudding.  More like a pot de crème, but who’s counting?  And some chocolate thing, too.

New day, time for a breakfast of champions.  Chicory iced coffee and Zapp’s.

Time for a Low Country cooking class.

Pan-fried chicken, how beautiful.

And a peach crumble with ice cream for dessert, how southern.

Sweet Tea Vodka makes a great Arnold Palmer, but bourbon just tastes better.  When in South Carolina, gotta go to the Firefly distillery.

The author enjoys a sazerac cocktail at FIG.

And Food Is Good (FIG).  Polenta with morels and asparagus.  Steps 1 and 2.

Spring garlic soup with lump crab meat.  Served upon a ticket for a show I never saw.

Oink oink.  Crispy pork trotter with a fried pullet egg (full-sized egg training wheels) on succotash.

Veal sweetbread agnolotti.  Sweet.  

And burgergal ate, too.  But we didn’t take a picture of it.  Boo hoo.

Yes.  Yes, it does.

Fried chicken, anyone?  Me please.  Virginia’s on King.

These carts are everywhere.  And they give out free samples.


Tornado time!

Magnolia’s housemade chips.  Southern nachos.

Southern spring rolls.  Fried, of course.

Proud to be an American, where at least I know I’m free.  (An American isn’t a place, but the song still makes sense somehow).

Do you think we got enough?  NY Strip Steak with onion rings, pan-fried chicken livers, grilled meatloaf, mac and cheese.  And an Arnold Palmer.

Lookin’ and feelin’ slim for Folly Beach.

Oatmeal for days.


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