We’re new to town, so you can imagine the hundreds of times
I’ve googled, “Best Restaurants in Charleston,” and poured through the plethora
of places that my search revealed.
I have to admit that hearing Charleston is some kind of foodie destination, had
me both excited, but yet a little bit doubtful. On our house hunting trip, I wasn’t terribly impressed with
any restaurant, so I wasn’t just dying to go anywhere except maybe the Waffle House
(scattered, smothered, and covered, ya’ll).
Enter Charleston Grill.
Christmas Eve, and I do like to go all out. I called them up on the Saturday before
the big day. The host a little bit
laughed at me for trying to get a reservation so late. He says there is a waitlist forty deep. I mentioned I was new to town, and he
graciously said he’d take my name as a symbol of Charleston hospitality. Thank goodness for that Charleston
hospitality because guess who called me the next day with a table? My good
friends at The Charleston Grill, that’s who!
We arrived in plenty of time to enjoy the Christmas pomp at
the Belmond Hotel, and the Babe was able to admire the fabulous train set. Truly worth a visit this time of
year!
Once at our table, we were promptly greeted by one of two wait staff
assigned to us. He was both casual
and professional, which really is the perfect personality combination as a
server. He was friendly toward for
the Babe and patience as he thought of the words, “Chocolate Milk.”
The dinner was a three-course menu for $95, and it included your
choice of appetizer, entrée, and dessert, but did not include tax and 20% gratuity. There was a standard
children’s menu, though children were welcome to dine from the adult menu at
half the price (I do, SO, love that!).
The Babe, though a rather adventurous eater at the age of five with his
favorite foods being Mac 'N Cheese and Ahi Tuna, chose the pasta with butter
and Parmesan.
First Course:
Dear Ben chose the Ace of Spades Oysters from the East Coast. He just can’t get enough oysters. Served on a bed of rock salt and peppercorns with
a Yuzo-Ginger Mignonette, he said he was pleasantly surprised. He’s a northwest oyster snob, but he
said these were mild and tasty. No
oyster was spared from his plate.
I ordered
the Charleston crab cake. After just one bite, I knew I would like living here.
Perhaps I am in a food Mecca?
Served with sweet, little Creek Shrimp, gorgeous cherry tomatoes, and a lime-tomato-dill vinaigrette; the combination was out of control. Even the Babe requested multiple bites.
After breaking the initial breading, it had me wondering how the chef kept
these babies together. The crab cake was indeed made of crab, crab, and more
crab.
Second Course:
Dear Ben picked a choice that I don’t make a home, the
Grilled Domestic Lack Rack. His
grandmother used to make lamb every time he would visit, so not
only did have a culinary interest, but a sentimental one as well. He enjoyed that the chops were both a
bit fatty and perfectly cooked rare, and he had only love for the mint
chimichurri. I have to admit that
I was a little bit wide-eyed that this perfectly dressed man was chewing on the
bone. Then I remembered why we are
such a good pair, so I smiled inside and kept on eating my own plate.
I had serious trouble deciding what to order for my main
course, but I went with the Seared Snapper. I wanted something a little bit light, but my server assured
me that my choice was far from that.
The fregola, very similar to a couscous, was cooked in cream, in
addition to the sherry and red wine reduction. The server couldn’t quite get this description out before I
could say, “That’s what I want.”
The sherry flavor was quite prominent, and thankfully, that was A-Ok
with me. The dish was perfection
with the crispy seared skin, creamy balls of pasta with the tang of sherry and
bits of wild mushrooms. Shear happiness.
Dessert:
I’m actually too full, but I manage to push forward.
Dear Ben goes with yet another dish I don’t make a home, the
Spiced Yogurt and Pear Panna Cotta. This plate was a beauty though with the poached Forelle
Pear, walnut baklava, and the honey whiskey drizzle. He would order it again.
I don’t always go chocolate, but Chocolate Pate had a
certain ring that I couldn’t refuse.
So very glad that I went with this intuition. The rich, decadent chocolate was dense and had a marshmallow
mousse surprise inside, a la Ding Dong -- though much, much better, with a tangy cherry compote and a pair of homemade graham cracker
cookies. I knew I had a friend in
our server when he offered to fill my dessert wine on
multiple occasions. What a finale!
As we walked out, the Babe stopped to shake the hand of the
head of table next to ours. He had
been dying to say hello after he got a he’s-a-cute-kid comment from them
earlier in the meal. Saying
hello proved to be the cherry on top of the night. Perhaps an indicator of the people of the South, his college-aged
daughters took selfies with the Babe and the Mother said she would love to take
him home. This friendliness made
us all feel warm inside, and though we miss our Seattle friends like
crazy, we feel a little bit better about moving across the country.
This meal was a turning point in our attitude about the City
of Charleston. The food surpassed
my expectations, the service was a delight, and equally important, the
hospitable charm had me feeling a little bit more at "Home."
So, what’s next, Charleston? Can’t wait to dig into everything you have to offer.
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