Many of the most famous images of historic Charleston feature beautiful area homes.  The Battery mansions, for instance, grace many a glossy postcard, and the pastel facades of Rainbow Row draw daily tourists.  Even houses outside the city, such as Drayton Hall and Magnolia Plantation, have achieved recognition with visitors and students from around the world.

History in Charleston, though, is tangible in more than just columns and carriage houses.  The city is also marked by cannons and forts, the preserved relics of 18th and 19th and century wars.  The most famous of these is Fort Sumter, which is generally acknowledged to be the site of the Civil War’s beginning.  Maintained by the National Park Service, Sumter is just miles from the Charleston peninsula; it’s reachable by private boat or ferry tours.

Fort Sumter

When my parents were in town, we boarded a Spiritline Cruise at Liberty Square to visit Fort Sumter.  A fee of $16 each bought us an hour round-trip boat ride plus an hour exploring the Fort.  Though the ferry was comfortable, it’s worth noting that visitors with access to a private boat can dock themselves at the Fort and walk its grounds free of charge.

The automated narration on the ride was pretty dull, so we busied ourselves by observing activity in the harbor.  We traveled on a Sunday afternoon, and there was plenty to see!

red boat

Sumter Dolphin

sail boat

When we reached the fort, everyone opted out of the hard-to-hear narrated tour.  Instead of following a guide, we rambled over bricks and stone in Sumter’s shell.  The old walls gave us a bit of welcome shade, but soon we retreated into the small, on site museum to really cool off.

Looking into Fort Sumter

My favorite part of visiting the Fort was seeing the old, tattered flags that flew over the Fort during the Civil War.  The U.S. flag, especially, was enormous, spanning nearly two stories – it was much too big for my camera to take in!

Old Fort Sumter American FlagPalmetto Fort Sumter Flag

Time at the Fort went surprisingly fast, so I was surprised when the boat’s horn blew, signalling its upcoming departure.  On the way to board, I took a few parting shots:

Fort Sumter Porthole

Fort Sumter and Ravennel Bridge

With a rental or boat of my own, I’d definitely make another visit to the Fort.  While the tour itself was nothing special, the historical space of Sumter definitely is worth the trip.

I promised you a sad kitchen story.

* * *

While there are many world cuisines about which I’m relatively ignorant, I do take pride in my familiarity with the cooking customs of some non-Anglo cultures.  With help from cookbooks by Madhur Jaffrey, Marcus Samuelsson, and Susanna Foo, I’ve picked up a few skills and tricks for approaching Indian, African (broad as that may be!), and Chinese dishes, respectively. In fact, I probably use more curry powder in my kitchen than I do oregano!

One of the best parts about exploring other culinary traditions is encountering ingredients you won’t find in your average Food Lion.  Foo, for instance, includes a recipe for “Lychee and Lemon Thyme Sorbet” in her cookbook, Susanna Foo Fresh Inspiration.  When I was in search of a dessert to complement Char Siu and fried rice, I decided to try that frozen, Chinese treat.

Lychees are a small, thin-shelled fruit that are becoming increasingly popular in America.  I think, oddly enough, that they have an appearance and texture akin to those of sea scallops.  Off-putting as that might sound, lychees are a delicate and sweet addition to smoothies (we had one in Honolulu!), mixed drinks (remember the mojito at Coast?), and lots of desserts.

Lychees

Foo’s recipe calls for canned lychees, which are the only kind I’ve seen in local stores.  Pureed in the food processor and boiled with honey, thyme, and lemon juice, they made for an especially easy dessert.

Lychee Syrup

The great thing about making sorbet as opposed to ice cream is that there’s no need to make a temperature-sensitive  custard before you strain and freeze your mixture.  If you’re curious about making frozen desserts but afraid of curdled cream or a thin custard, sorbet is an unintimidating treat to tackle.  After just a few minutes on the stove, my strained liquid was ready to chill before hitting the ice cream maker.

Unfortunately, this is where the story gets sad.  After minutes spinning in its frozen bowl, the lychee syrup yielded approximately two scoops of sorbet!  Perhaps Foo’s lychees were canned in more syrup than mine were, but whatever the reason, I wound up with a disappointing portion of dessert instead of the expected pint.  David, Bryce, and I were forced to split this:

Lychee Sorbet

Pretty pathetic, no?  The sorbet was beautifully sweet and fragrant from the thyme and lemon, but there simply wasn’t enough of it to go around.  If we hadn’t had such a satisfying dinner, it really could’ve been a disaster!

I usually try to learn from my kitchen pitfalls, but I don’t know what happened here.  There simply wasn’t enough syrup to freeze into a pint of sorbet. Any random guesses?

When I bought an enormous pork shoulder to make my family barbecue, I found myself with a pound or so to spare.  Fortunately, Gourmet has a recipe for Char Siu, which is essentially Chinese barbecue, on the same page as the guidelines for their North Carolina pork.  Served with Gourmet’s “Bok Choy with Soy Sauce and Butter” and The Splendid Table’s fried rice, the Char Siu made for one of the best meals we’d had in some time.

Char Sui takes awhile to make, but requires very little work.  After I stirred together a mahogany-colored marinade of hoisin sauce, soy sauce, sake, honey, ginger, and garlic, there was no mixing or chopping involved.  Coated with the marinade, the pork can sit in the refrigerator for up to one day.

Marinating Pork

Once it’s chilled for at least four hours, the pork is ready for the oven.  I roasted it on a rack set above a pan of water, occasionally brushing it with leftover marinade.

Barbecuing Pork

After about an hour, the pork was dark and tender.  While it cooled on a cutting board, I tossed choy sum, a beautiful Asian green that’s very similar to bok choy, in a wok with soy sauce and butter.  It was ready in just a few minutes, and it smelled fantastic!

choy sum

I wish I had more pictures of the accompanying fried rice, which also came together very quickly, but it was too good to last long.  Studded with green scallions and strands of egg, the rice was stir-fried with an amazing sauce that resembled the Char Siu marinade.  I did manage to snap a picture of Bryce’s plate before he sat down to eat:

Chinese Dinner

Without the saltiness that can sully strip mall Chinese food, the fried rice, pork, and greens tasted wonderful and fresh.  The meal was a great spin on the classic meat-starch-vegetable combination, and I can’t wait to make it again!

Next time, I’ll tell you the sad story of my Chinese dessert.

Whenever my brother comes to dinner, I prepare a list of kitchen standards that I know he loves.  It’s almost a ritual at this point, because the menu almost never changes!  I cook deviled eggs and macaroni and cheese, and then I send Bryce to the grill with a plate of chicken breasts and a big bowl of homemade barbecue sauce (there’s a story behind the recipe, but I’ll save that for another time).  When David arrives, I’m usually working on dessert, which is the only real variable in this otherwise predictable equation.

David’s recent visit to Charleston, though, coincided with that of my parents and younger sister.  While they love barbecue and mac ‘n cheese as much as the next family, I wasn’t sure they’d enjoy a sauce whose distinguishing feature is an entire bottle of Texas Pete.  So I decided to change things up a bit for the occasion by making Gourmet’s recipe for North Carolina-style barbecue.  Cooked indoors on the stove and in the oven, the chopped and sauced pork is a great match for coleslaw on a fluffy bun.

Pork shoulder is an amazingly inexpensive cut of meat, but it needs lots of cooking to ensure its tenderness.  I started its transformation in a pot of simmering water, where the meat absorbed flavor from chopped onions, carrots, celery, garlic, peppercorns, and vinegar.

Simmering Pork Shoulder

The nice thing about cooking an entree that requires so much stove time is that it leaves plenty of opportunity to make sides to go with it.  In lieu of the usual baked pasta, I decided to serve a gratin with potatoes and herbed Boursin cheese, a bowlful of coleslaw, and some buttered shoepeg corn.

I used my fancy slicer to cut the potatoes uniformly thick.  Because of its ridged edge, though, it also made them look like uncooked potato chips!  I think Allison was mildly disappointed when she realized they weren’t destined for hot oil.

sliced potatoes

Following a recipe from the Bon Appetit cookbook, I warmed Boursin cheese with cream to create a sauce for the potatoes.  The Boursin is already flavored with herbs, so I only added salt and pepper to the potatoes for seasoning.

Boursin Potato Gratin

While the potatoes baked, I cut cabbage, green pepper, and onion for the coleslaw.  With a bag of matchstick carrots (there are a few tasks I’m too lazy to tackle!), they were ready to toss with whisked mayonnaise, sour cream, and vinegar.

Coleslaw VeggiesMaking Coleslaw

Soon, I transferred the pork shoulder to a roasting pan, where it cooked with even more vinegar for another hour.  It grew tender and crisp in the oven while I stirred together a tomato-based barbecue sauce on the stove.  With only small quantities of Tabasco and ground cayenne for heat, I knew the sauce would be milder than my fiery standard.

Chopped and reheated with ladles of sauce, the barbecue looked great!  Allison still found the sauce a bit spicy, but overall, it was a big hit.  My favorite part of the meal was the potatoes, because they were creamy, evenly cooked, and ridiculously easy to make.

Oven Barbecue

Baked Boursin Potato Gratin

With a hungry family in my tiny apartment, I decided to forgo the usual plating pictures and just leave you with the finished dishes of barbecue and potato gratin.  We assembled sandwiches packed with coleslaw and meat, then balanced their heat with bites of potatoes and corn.  It was, I think, a great start to our visit.

Since 2005, Charleston has been home to the Bacardi Mojito Challenge, a showdown between mixologists from some of the city’s best restaurants.  This popular event raises money for the South Carolina Special Olympics and gives local bar talent the chance to wow judges with creative spins on the classic drink.  Despite its respectable list of contestants, though, the competition has been admittedly lopsided.  In every year except 2006, the team from Coast Bar and Grill has taken the top prize, employing fun ingredients like lychee, peaches, and even Pop Rocks to snag the title.  Its champion mojitos retire to Coast’s bar menu once they’ve won, joining martinis, margaritas, and concoctions like “The Seersucker,” which features local sweet tea vodka.

Coast Charleston

Coast’s success in mixology competitions – its “Yellow Submarine” triumphed at the 2007 Cabana Cashaca contest – is a good indicator of what to expect from the downtown hot spot.  Housed in a brick-walled former warehouse that’s accented with hanging lanterns, nautical paintings, and exposed wooden beams, the restaurant caters to a lively cocktail crowd.  While it’s well-executed seafood dishes aren’t especially groundbreaking, they nicely complement Coast’s atmosphere of upscale-casual conviviality.

Coast InteriorCoast Seating

As you might expect, Coast’s calling card is its substantial selection of fresh seafood, which is anchored by a raw bar and a mix-and-match list of grilled fish and accompaniments.  Bright, citrusy ceviches and oysters with pedigrees – I was given a choice between the lowcountry haul and Apalachicolas – distinguish the raw bar from its more ordinary competitors (the glowing pufferfish suspended above its counter doesn’t hurt matters, either).  And the many options for enhancing grilled fish are similarly eye-catching; basic tartar sauce sounds downright dull when listed next to the likes of pineapple-chili salsa, spicy adobo rub, and a basil butter sauce.

Coast Raw Bar

If the choices at Coast sound overwhelming, fear not: the waitstaff I encountered were admirably prepared to offer facts and suggestions.  Our waitress advised us, for instance, that escolar and tuna were locally caught, and that the plantain-encrusted mahi mahi would be just as tasty with snapper substituted.  Once she’d helped us navigate the menu, we sat back to taste warm, candle-heated crab dip, unremarkable calamari, and Rio Bertollini’s crab and avocado ravioli.  The latter, served with mixed salad greens and warm goat cheese, elicited oohs and ahhs from all ends of our table.

crab dip

The exclamations only increased when our entrees were delivered.  Seafood paella arrived in a black cast iron pot, complete with a lid that the waitstaff promptly removed.  Though oversalted, the scallops, shrimp, mussels, clams, and rice were all expertly cooked, without a trace of toughness or mushiness.  The grouper I’d selected was pleasantly charred from the grill, and the chorizo had been browned before it was added to the dish, lending it a deeper, more intense flavor.

Coast Seafood Paella

Salt marred an otherwise tasty mahi mahi preparation too, particularly in its side of mashed potatoes.  But overall, the restaurant’s dinner offerings were solid interpretations of coastal standards.  After indulging in plate after plate of appetizers, our group still accumulated only a handful of carryout boxes.  Dessert, though, was definitely out of the question!

Plantain Encrusted Mahi Mahi

Coast Steak

Our lovely cousin Katie with her landlubber's plate

After two trips (I know; I’ve been lucky enough to break the mold!), I can say that Coast is the perfect spot for a big night out with a big group of friends, for those times when sharing laughs – and maybe drinks – takes priority over trying amazing dishes.  Its food won’t be the focus of your night, but if it’s accompanied by a lively table and an award-winning mojito or two, it’s not likely to disappoint, either.

Well, dear readers, it’s about that time again: I’m working on another restaurant review for the site!  I try to take my time with these things even more so than with my regular posts, since I don’t want to besmirch anyone’s business unnecessarily.  In the meantime, I thought I’d share a picture of my favorite finds from last week.  Sour cherries and sugar plums from Whole Foods and tiny eggplant and zucchini blossoms from Kennerty Farms really inspired me to get cooking!  ‘Till tomorrow:

summer bounty

One of my favorite things about shopping farmers’ markets is discovering foods that seldom show up in grocery stores.  Back in Carrboro, where the meat producers are many and varied, I cooked buffalo and goat for the first time.  And in Charleston, I’ve established my love affair with fresh field peas and found the smallest, most perfect eggplants I’ve ever seen.  As the seasons change, so do the offerings, so I’m never sure what I’ll stumble upon next!  Most recently, I picked up a dozen just-picked zucchini blossoms from a cooler at Kennerty Farms.

Zucchini Blossoms

Zucchini blossoms aren’t particularly exotic; they’re just the flowers that result in the ubiquitous, dark green vegetable.  The female blooms produce and feed developing zucchini, while the males make that production possible.  Both sexes are delicious in their own right, though, and are easy to come by if you have your own squash plants.  My male blossoms arrived shrouded in layers of protective paper towels, which were dampened and packed in a plastic container.

Last summer, the magazine Bon Appetit featured zucchini blossoms in a section about seasonal produce, sharing recipes that showcase their delicate flavor.  I dragged out my old copy in search of inspiration, and decided to make Zucchini Blossom and Chicken Saltimbocca.  A riff on the classic Italian dish, the recipe consists of thin chicken breasts and zucchini blossoms wrapped in prosciutto, then sauteed with white wine.

Zucchini Blossoms Atop Chicken

Assembling the little bundles of chicken and zucchini blossoms felt like a sort of colorful craft project.  I used toothpicks to hold everything in place, then removed them before Bryce and I sat down to eat.

Zucchini Blossoms with Proscuitto and Chicken

Because they’re cooked zucchini side down, the blossoms quickly wilt in the saute pan.  As the prosciutto crisps, it lends salty, oily flavor to the chicken and blossoms.

Sauteeing Chicken

Making Saltimbocca

Once the chicken was cooked through, I poured the pan sauce over it on the plate.  The dish’s texture was a great contrast of crispy prosciutto, soft zucchini blossoms, and tender chicken.  And the wine’s acidity balanced the oils in the preparation, lending a fairly heavy meal a measure of restraint.

Zucchini Blossom Saltimbocca

Bryce and I both loved this recipe; it came across as a more sophisticated version of your standard protein-wrapped-in-bacon concoction.  My only complaint, though, is that the delicate zucchini blossoms were a bit overshadowed by the prosciutto’s more assertive flavor.  The next time I make it, I’ll wrap each piece of chicken in just one slice of ham.  It might not insulate the blossoms as well, but I think it will better allow their goodness to shine!

As much as I enjoy desserts like peach cobbler and strawberry pie , I’m sometimes hesitant to cook the beautiful fruits of summer.  I’d just as soon savor fresh blackberries from a bowl as mound them on a tart crust, and raspberries are lucky to last an hour in my apartment.  When food tastes so good without embellishment, why bother preheating the oven?

One answer: blueberry muffins.

blueberry muffin

I love blueberry muffins for their unbeatable reward-to-work ratio.  Gourmet’s version is so full of fruit that the muffins leave sticky purple puddles in the pan.  And because they don’t require chopping or vigorous mixing, they’re deceptively easy to throw together.

blueberry muffin batterblueberry muffin crumblesbaked blueberry muffins

Sprinkled with a coarse mix of butter, sugar, and flour, the muffins only need 20 minutes to bake.  But if you have a few friends (or one Bryce) on hand, they’ll take even less time to eat!  Ours barely grace the cooling rack before they disappear.

Charleston is a peninsular city, surrounded by the brackish waters of three converging rivers.  Port facilities and container ships dominate its northeastern edge, and its western side is dotted with marinas, dry docks, and a few condominium complexes.  While these areas have their charms, the undisputed highlight of the downtown peninsula is its apex, where land gives way to the Charleston Harbor. This curve of sea wall and wide sidewalks, called Battery Park, boasts the most jaw-dropping historic homes in the city.

Battery Row 1

Most days, tourists prowl the Battery’s blocks with cameras around their necks, taking photos atop the canons in White Point Gardens and peering for a closer look at the private residences.  Many of the mansions are still inhabited, though a few now operate as bed and breakfasts or inns.  One of the oldest, the Edmondston-Alston House, actually serves three functions:  its top floor houses a descendant of the Alston family, its carriage house is a popular bed and breakfast, and its first two floors have been converted into a museum.  When Teresa was visiting, she and I decided to take a short guided tour of the house.

Edmondston-Alston HouseThe Edmondston-Alston House

Because the house contains flash-sensitive paintings, draperies, and wallpapers, I couldn’t take pictures of the its interior.  You can see one, though, at the Middleton Place website.

Unlike Drayton Hall, which was bare of nearly all furnishings or adornments, the Edmonston-Alston House is full of family relics, from silver and paintings to desks and light fixtures.  Its caretakers have taken a decidedly restorative approach to presenting the house; it appears as grand today as it must have in 1838, when the planter Charles Alston bought the house from its seafaring builder, Charles Edmondston.  For 30 minutes, we wandered its rooms, learning about the family from our straightforward guide.

porchview

Our tour took us to the house’s second-floor piazza, where we enjoyed a warm breeze and great views of the harbor.  I could also see the house next door, made of yellow-colored brick, across the garden wall.

porch

The Edmondston-Alston House was nearly as enjoyable as Drayton Hall, but the strengths of the two places were entirely different.  Here, our tour guide had broader material with which to entertain us; in addition to describing the architectural features of the home, she used antiques in the house to give us a vivid sense of the residents’ lives. The family portraits were many, and the house’s decorations beautiful.  While Drayton lacked those sorts of visual stimuli, its atmosphere somehow felt more authentic, its aims more earnest.  I felt there that I was observing researchers in action and gaining a sense of time’s passage.

Regardless of how it compares to Drayton, the Edmondston-Alston house is worth a tour for the bragging rights alone.  After all, how many of your friends can say they’ve set foot in a prestigious Battery home?  As the unaware tourists gape outside, it’s fun to see the Harbor from the other side of the window.  Now, if only I could sneak my way into this palace…

A Battery House

There are some ingredients that a foodie just can’t dislike.  Onions, for instance, are in so many preparations that avoiding them is a real hassle.  The same can be said for garlic, or lemon, or even salad greens.  Life is just easier when you aren’t compelled to dissect your plate in search of a rogue scallion.

That said, I have a dark and ugly confession to make: I don’t really like tomatoes.

beautifultomatoes

I’m trying hard to change my misguided ways, though.  After 20 years of avoidance, I finally learned to like most any type of cooked tomatoes.  And this spring, I progressed to tolerating, then actually enjoying, small cherry or grape varieties.  Last weekend, I decided to take the plunge with the big guys and make a salad of green zebra, yellow, and black zebra tomatoes.  Garnished with plenty of fresh mozzarella, a scattering of basil leaves, and good oil and vinegar, the tomatoes were ready to taste.

Tomato Salad1

It helps, I think, when the food you dislike happens to be colorful and beautiful.

Tomato Salad

Though Bryce ate most of this salad, I did manage several forkfuls before I surrendered the plate.  And I can almost say I enjoyed them. I haven’t overcome my tomato handicap just yet, but I think I’m well on my way. Wish me luck!

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