It’s a tough confession to make: I love grits.
I trot this out with a touch of trepidation. That’s because I’m a Southerner who works hard to defend my people from the usual head-smacking list of Dixie cliches, and because, well, they’re called “grits,” for heaven’s sake.
As a friend put it on Facebook: “I didn’t know they had grits north of the Mason-Dixon.” Truth is, grits are among us, and there are some particularly tasty uses of this lowly grain in the area.
When my local grit search got underway, however, my memories of munching them in the Pioneer Valley proved a little off. Florence Diner? No grits. Bluebonnet in Northampton? Nope.
On and on, it went just that way. I knew I wasn’t entirely crazy, though, when I thought of Jake’s in Northampton. By gum, they have grits. And they have them in abundance.
First, though, a gritty primer. Grits are a simple food — grind up some corn, preferably in a stone mill, and boil it. Voila, grits!
According to grits.com — it’s out there — some people prefer a variation on the basic substance, however, opting for hominy grits. To make hominy, corn is soaked in lye water, which removes its outer shell. It’s rinsed repeatedly and dried, then ground in the usual fashion.
The finished product has a couple of unusual properties. Let grits cool, and they’ll take on the shape of whatever they’re housed in, forming a solid, rubbery mass that would make an admirable projectile. They’d also make a fine insulator, retaining heat almost indefinitely.
There’s not really much to like or dislike about grits, though they are, for whatever reason, not popular in the North. At the Whately Diner, just off I-91 at exit 24, manager Eric Moulton says there’s one main reason they keep grits on the menu: Southern truckers pass through, and want their corn fix.
Order grits (available as a side) at the diner, and you’ll get a standard-issue version, a stolid white mass sprinkled with a little parsley and served with a side of butter. Moulton says the crew learned via a test kitchen to cook them with cream and butter, and they have a pleasantly, well, gritty texture and an un-intrusive mild corn flavor. They are, like the best unadorned grits, pretty decent.
But he shares the story of a patron from Georgia who declared them “good, but not how I like ’em.”
People don’t tend to be passionate about grits. Yet down South, they dress them up in several tasty ways, ways that elevate the dish to something memorable. As a kid in Texas, Louisiana and Mississippi, I always ordered them the same way: chock full of cheese, preferably cheddar. That stout flavor pairs beautifully with the corn, offering a punch of flavor that plays well with grits’ mildness. Some people like them doused in syrup, or drenched with butter and milk or cream.
And it’s really there that the genius of grits lies. They make an admirable base, a rib-sticking starting point that provides bulk and intriguing texture. And that’s the role they play at Jake’s in Northampton. There you’ll find them as the star of their own dish, served with eggs any way and toast. The grits themselves come with your choice of bacon, jalapeños and cheese.
On a recent visit, I gave a go to the jalapeños and cheese version. The cheese did its usual, adding a savory depth of flavor. The jalapeños provided more crunch than heat, but then again, I’m an unreliable barometer of spiciness, having burned out my taste buds years ago with habaneros and sauces with names that sound like torture devices. The jalapeños work well, though given a little more punch, they’d do even more to delight the palate. The unusual addition of wilted greens and onions on top works beautifully.
The Jake’s dish is a keeper, a real go-to for those in need of a reminder of southerly climes.
At Galaxy in Easthampton, grits get another interpretation that’s not too hard to find down South, appearing as Shrimp and Grits, a pairing of corn flavor and spicy shellfish. Galaxy isn’t alone in using grits thusly, though few, if any, local restaurants feature grits as a regular item.
The weird thing is, a call out on Facebook turned up something strange, an echo of my own faulty memory. Acquaintances threw some recommendations out, but follow-ups revealed that the grits were in fact mere rumors of grits. They do appear as an occasional special at Sylvester’s in Northampton, and destinations farther from Northampton can provide a fix, particularly Chef Wayne’s Big Mamou in Springfield.
But grits are doubly elusive. They’re hard to find, though most any grocery store will turn up a box or two of the ground corn. And once you cook them, their appeal lies in their understated flavor. It’s there, all right, a distant, corny call that’s satisfying, but never out front. As a result, they provide an open call, a beckoning question: What will you add?
Don’t fear the air of vague Southern otherness the term “grits” may conjure. Answering that call can lead you to some interesting places. They go well with eggs, and they take hot sauce well. Seafood and smoked meats make great pals, as do greens. New horizons await the fearless explorer.
As for me, the grits of my youth, simple yet cheesy, still provide the gold standard. Grits are forgiving.
Everything in a good grits recipe is “to taste,” and it’s hard to go overboard. If you do, it’s easy enough to simply add more plain grits.
Here’s how I make four servings of quick (not instant) grits.
Jalapeño Cheese Grits
First, follow the package directions, which, in the case of Quaker quick grits, are:
1 cup grits
4 cups water
¼ teaspoon salt (optional)
Slowly stir grits and salt into briskly boiling water. Reduce heat to medium low; cover. Cook 5 to 7 minutes or until thickened, stirring occasionally. Remove from heat.
Then: Stir in yellow grated sharp cheddar (the sharper the better) to taste — Usually when the grits turn golden
If you want them spicy, add one finely chopped seeded Jalapeño, or for a proper kick, leave the seeds in.Add salt, pepper, and butter to taste.