Kiss my grits, they've arrived
Pulled pork. Sliders. Buffalo wings. Brisket. Short ribs. Chilli dogs. Excuse me ... I've slipped into speaking American again.
In case you just got back from five years counting penguins in the Antarctic, the food of the grassroots American populace has arrived on our shores like a boatload of asylum-seekers sailing into Geraldton, but given a far more hospitable welcome.
It's everywhere from trucks to diners to fancy restaurants.
Not so much the food of America's high culinary arts, what we have going on here is a Four Seasons interpretation of trailer-park tucker.
In Brissie there are restaurants (diners?) with names such as Ohio and Carolina Kitchen. In Adelaide, at Plant 13, Georgia (America, not the Caucasus) native Cole Thomas serves pecan pie, fried green tomatoes and smoked pork ribs.
In Melbourne, Gavin Baker, who was raised in North Carolina, cooks a steak at Little Hunter called the "NY strip" and serves pork crackling with cheddar and apple sauce.
Plus - and this is the point of this column - grits. My prediction: it's only a matter of time before grits take over menus across the nation. Like polenta, grits are a corn-based staple, cheap, nutritious, filling, gluten free, a carbo-accompaniment or a canvas for sauces and protein. And did I say cheap?
Anything cheap that can be sold for a huge profit is bound to catch the restaurant industry's attention. And, of course, grits is American, which, this year anyway, is way cool.
And because "grits" is not really part of the Australian lexicon, even though you've heard the word a million times on the box, it seems good timing for a little background. Given my prediction and everything.
Grits is both a porridge-like gruel made from dried, coarsely and unevenly ground hominy, and the ground hominy itself. A bit like polenta. Ingredient and dish. And, like most food stories, this is all about preservation.
Hominy is made from the kernels of corn that have been soaked in an alkali solution, either lime or lye (sodium hydroxide). This has the effect of removing the hull and germ of the kernel, turning it a paler colour and puffing it up to about twice the original size.
Once soaked, hominy is either dried or used for cooking in things such as soup or stews. The dried hominy will last almost indefinitely, whether as whole kernels or ground into grits. To make ... grits.
Baker, the only chef I know serving grits, imports a popular brand from the US, Anson Mills (which produces six different grits products), although he has tried sourcing alternatives locally. The best he has been able to find is coarsely ground cornmeal and so, having purchased the lye, he plans to make his own hominy. A first, perhaps, Down Under.
Back to grits, the dish. "In North Carolina, where I'm from, it never gets any more complicated than butter and black pepper and if they get a little crazy, a bit of cheese on top," says the chef. "In South Carolina, where they're all a bit odd, they serve it with shrimp, that's the tradition."
At Little Hunter, it's a side dish: grits (unfiltered - Baker likes the different textures of finer and coarser corn grit in the gruel) whisked into a milk-bouillon combo with bay and garlic, finished with a herb butter and salt.
My own grits endeavours have been limited to home-made rice grits (thank to the trusty oat roller) to make fried green tomatoes (fantastic, BTW). You see, not only can I speak American but I can cook American too. Pass the ketchup, please.
Source: The Australian, 20 April 2013
