My wife and I decided at the last minute to go out for seafood on Saturday night. It all started when she said she wanted some fried shrimp for dinner and I was tired and just did not feel like standing outside in 90-degree heat over the hot fryer cooking. We walked out the door and headed to a new seafood restaurant around the corner on Folly Road to give it a try. When we arrived we found out they only accepted cash which I never carry. At this point in time she shared with me she was hoping for a little more fancy meal anyway so we headed downtown. I now knew I was more than likely going to overpay for meal, but sometimes it is easier just to go with the flow.
We parked downtown and headed into a restaurant that several friends had recommended recently. After about a half hour wait we were seated and the waiter provided us with menus. I asked him what he would recommend and he said the “fresh salmon was exquisite and so was the fresh brook trout.” I asked him where the brook trout was from, and he said it was “fresh caught here in Charleston.” I wanted to inquire more about this “fresh brook trout,” but my wife gave me one swift kick under the table and I knew that meant to knock it off. y brief conversation with the waiter reminded me of the following article that I put together last year. You may remember it, but I thought it was worth running again for those that possibly missed it or had forgotten it. Hope you find it palatable…
Growing up here in the lowcounty, seafood was a staple food source around the Pickett household. Summertime meals often consisted of fresh corn on the cob, and popcorn creek shrimp or fried spotail bass, fall was potatoes and fresh blue crabs or stuffed flounder, winter was oysters and sheepshead gumbo or fried trout and grits, spring was sweet potatoes and dolphin on the grill. Man, I am getting hungry just thinking about mom and dads scrumptious fresh seafood meals.
Truth be told, with the exception of oysters, my parents never purchased seafood and we rarely ate i