Southern Hospitality

Sorry for the longer-than-usual break. I've been a little busy—eating.

I spent the weekend in Lowcountry at a wedding of friends, which are actually more like family considering we've spent the last 25+ summers vacationing with them. At this point, Lowcountry—or more specifically, South Carolina—feels like a second home. And the cuisine feels just as familiar.

I couldn't wait to get back and eat shrimp and grits, butter beans, pirlau, sweet tea and fried chicken. I'd been thinking about the latter for weeks, especially as the wedding grew near. I wondered if we'd get a chance to eat it—and not just from any joint, but from Brown's Bar-B-Q in Kingstree, S.C. At one point during our visits down South, we were introduced to Brown's and it made a lasting impression—enough for me to think about it during a weekend when we'd no doubt already be surrounded by amazing food.

At the rehearsal dinner, I got my fill of shrimp and grits, coleslaw and biscuits. At the wedding (which was amazing, by the way), I shoveled in fried catfish, pulled pork, butter beans and more shrimp. At the post-wedding day brunch, I consumed a mountain of pirlau and washed it down with sweet tea.

Somewhere in between, we made the trip to Brown's where we emptied plate after plate of chicken. I'm not kidding when I say it's the best barbecue I've ever eaten. My stomach paid the price, but I know I'll be longing for it again soon.

In the end, I got my fill of Lowcountry cooking. (Don't tell anyone, but I even got a nip of moonshine at the wedding.)

I'm telling you now, there ain't nothing like a Southern party.

No Floundering Here

Day 13

Any night that ends with fried chicken has to be a good one.

I just walked in the door and, although I'll likely be paying for it in the a.m., I have to say it was worth it.

My friend has been obsessing over BonChon Chicken for what seems like a couple years. For some reason or another, we never got around to eating it together—until tonight. It all started with a good bottle of Chilean white wine and moved on to a variety by Trader Joe's own Charles Shaw. (Sorry wine snobs, but there's nothing wrong with a little 2 Buck Chuck.)

Before my friends and I knew it, we were ordering a bucket of Korean fried chicken from BonChon's Financial District outpost. Even after all the fried food this week, it was extremely difficult (and maybe impossible) to pass up the double-fried legs and wings.

I have to say that eating amazing, cheap food while hanging with your buddies on a rooftop late night (with a perfect view of the Chrysler Building and Brooklyn Bridge, nonetheless) is one of those quintessential New York moments. I love this city.

The get-together was a nice distraction after Fish Lesson No. 2. Today we filleted flat fish (flounder, to be exact), which proved to be a bit easier than the previous lesson's round fish butchering. Either way, it would be nice to know how much money you're actually saving by doing it yourself versus having a fishmonger provide you with the prepared cuts.

I think I'll pay a little extra for the labor.

My new partner and I made it through the lesson unscathed. Let me add that she rocked it today, even with her one-gloved, bandaged hand. (Please read the previous post if you want to find out what happened to her.)

Tomorrow is shellfish day, otherwise I would say: Give me back that filet-o-fish, give me that fish.