Hungering for Hush Puppies

Tales explaining the origins of our favorite foods are generally more satisfying than whatever the stark, verifiable truth may be.

Was there ever (for instance) one particular young pig who, trapped in a burning barn, became the prototypical and proverbial first serving of barbecue?

Who knows? Sounds right.

Details may differ, of course. Perhaps the pig encountered a forest fire. Still, at gut level--so to speak--we accept these and other culinary creation myths without question.

Here in the South, where people tell stories about nearly everything, no one disputes the myth of the hush puppy, which goes something like this:

When the first men (and perhaps women) caught the first fish out in the then wild and unpolluted rivers, they quickly mixed up a mess of cornmeal batter--corn being the South’s main grain until well into this century--and fried the fillets to a crisp.

Smelling the savory fish, the coon dogs, hound dogs and deer dogs who are the familiars of any Southern campfire whimpered and hollered and rolled in the dust and made general nuisances of themselves. To keep the mutts quiet, the cook tossed out bits of batter that had separated from the fish during the frying process. The dogs ate up and shut up. This pleased the master of the hunt, who tipped the cook extra.

Next time, dogs as well as cook knew they were onto something. The cook prepared extra batter for the same number of fillets. After the fish were fried and the hunters served, the cook added chopped onion and a little sugar and hot pepper sauce to a batter composed of cornmeal, self-rising flour, canned milk, egg and salt. Then he let it rest and thicken while the dogs proceeded to whimper, holler and roll in the dust.

Eventually, dipping spoonful after careful spoonful of batter into the fat--probably lard, though few people today will admit that it imparts so much flavor to fried foods--the cook produced a pile of fishless campfire fritters. Throwing them one by one to the dogs, who had by then become his fast friends, he called out, “Hush puppies, hush puppies.”

They did. Thus was the legend born.

Whatever the facts, hush puppies--more healthily fried in corn, peanut or canola oil today--are an essential part of Southern dining. Round or tubular, thick or thin, sweet or slightly salty, crisp outside and yielding within, they are traditionally served with seafood--as well as with fried chicken dinners--up and down the coastal corn belt that stretches from the Carolinas to Texas. Because they are considered an essential part of a meal--such as fruit garnishes on the hamburger-patty-and-cottage-cheese diet plate--they’re often not even mentioned on regional menus.

Where to find good ones? Everywhere: in soul food cafes, small town catfish barns, dockside snack bars, big-deal city fish houses--even frozen, in grocery store convenience packages.

But some of the best are fried in the coastal Low Country--an outdoorsy, exotic strip of swamp running northeast from the Florida line to Charleston, S.C. Here, the cuisine of campfires and fish houses is almost extravagantly valued. Roasted marsh oysters, catfish pulled from the rivers and quickly fried, boiled shrimp from tidal creeks and sweet bay scallops seared in butter are the esteemed equivalents of the hautest harvest of any European kitchen or Pac-Rim sushi net. But take care to visit during the warmer months; many of these places close their welcoming doors from about November to sometime in March.

To find these briny delights and their essential, traditional, often ethereal hush puppy accompaniments, visitors must exit the superhighways and forget about fancy restaurants with pedigreed chefs. The roads--U.S. 17 and South Carolina 21, for instance--are well designed and carefully maintained. Because traffic is slower, they also offer better views than what’s available on the interstate. How much attention, for example, can you give to an alligator or blue heron at 75 m.p.h.?

We coastal Southerners like to drive easier and slower. We stop at graveyards, as well as villages, because we like to keep in touch with kissing cousins. And keeping in touch goes double when we’re hungry for traditional coastal and campfire cuisine, which is most of the time.

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Bite for bite, McIntosh County, Ga., boasts the best concentration of blue-ribbon hush puppies and seafood in the region. Shellman Bluff, a shrimping village between Interstate 95 and the ocean, numbers two rustic fish houses and spectacular views of the tidal marshes among its otherwise minimal attractions.

Speed’s Kitchen, a set of retired mobile homes in a secluded pine grove, looks like some super-extended family’s retirement home. There are two or three entrances (any will do), mix-and-match dinette tables and chairs and paper place mats that serve as menus.

Speed’s serves what may be the county’s premier hush pups. They come to the table hot, round and slightly sweet. Dipped in tartar sauce? Perfecto. On the side? Depend upon fried bay scallops in feathery breading, home-style blue crab au gratin, local flounder stuffed with crab and fine-cut coleslaw. Say “yes” to dessert if they have pecan pie. It’s all served by polite women who are enthusiastic about what they have to sell. BYOB applies--bring your own bottle if you care to. (Here and at the following two places, figure on spending $9-$12 per person for hush puppies, seafood entree and side dishes.)

Two blocks away, Hunter’s Cafe and Lounge is creek-side headquarters for the eye-popping marsh panorama (spartina grass, tidal creek, pleasure boats, aristocratic sabal palms) and small but satisfying pups. The atmospheric package also includes whole fried flounder, crab stew, rough-board picnic tables and benches, laid-back attitude, fully functioning barroom and doors that start swinging around 6 a.m. The place looks rougher than it is so tourists need not worry. But you can get your food to go. Then, parked across the narrow road from Hunter’s, you can lean back, pop pup after pup into your mouth (washing it down with cold beer) in the privacy of your own rental car--feeling just like a coastal native. That is, of course, if you have a designated driver.

Nearby, in the historic rice-and-lumber town of Darien, Archie’s Restaurant--an almost streamlined diner that has hunkered alongside U.S. 17 for two generations--serves freshly fried pups, local shrimp and fresh-water catfish from the neighboring Altamaha River. Portions are generous: perhaps three dozen medium-size shrimp and half a dozen comparable pups per regular order. Because Archie’s functions as Darien’s cafe, upscale truck stop and general meeting ground, count on respectable burgers, sandwiches and Southern vegetables too. A few display cases of small antiques and country collectibles are on view, with modest price tags, near the check-out counter.

A few miles to the north, Love’s Seafood--a neat, bigger-than-it-looks shack beside U.S. 17 at the Ogeechee River bridge just south of Savannah--is reliable for hush puppies and lightly breaded-and-fried shrimp and scallops (about $9). Stop there. Slaw is pickley-puckery, red rice (a Low Country standby) ketchupy. Fried catfish, the house-promoted specialty, was way overcooked last time I had it. The service is friendly, though, and the river view is authentic Low Country melt-your-heart.

In touristy Hilton Head, S.C., the place for pups and shrimp is the relatively upscale, decidedly touristy Crazy Crab. Like almost everything on Hilton Head, this place is fairly new. Inch-and-a-half “special recipe” hush puppy balls come with the fried shrimp dinner (about $14) or peel-and-eat

shrimp (half a pound, about $10). There are two Crazy Crabs on Hilton Head. You want the one on South Carolina 278 near the mainland bridge.

Arguably the best hush puppies in the region are prepared within sight of the Atlantic, on rural St. Helena Island. Located east of picturesque Beaufort (which is chock-full of the antebellum mansions and outsize characters that inspired “The Prince of Tides” and “The Big Chill”). St. Helena is home to one of the region’s notable eateries, the Shrimp Shack. The place is little more than that: two screen-porch-with-benches dining areas (one that’s raised up to catch the spectacular marsh-and-ocean panorama), a set of pass-through order and pickup windows and a specialty in two sizes: shrimp burger and super shrimp burger. These crab-cakelike, one-handers draw visitors, sea island retirees, construction workers, local farmers and military types from nearby Navy and Marine bases for daily refills. Operated by the wives of shrimpers (who sell retail and wholesale across the highway at Gay Fish Co.), Shrimp Shack pairs wonderfully sweet, crisp torpedo-shaped pups (six to an order) with the creamy, tender, shrimp burgers and with equally luscious fried scallops. Slaw is barely OK but skip the red rice. Note: No booze is either sold or allowed. (Around $5 for burger and hush puppies.)

Pup lovers heading in the other direction--to Florida or Cumberland Island National Seashore--should not miss Seagle’s, a considerably more genteel restaurant in the atmospheric, lightly restored Riverview Hotel in quaint St. Marys, Ga. There, accompanied by mixed drinks, table service and dockside views, the crisp, round, oniony hush puppies are served with fried and broiled bay scallops (about $7.50-$10.50 a plate). Nut-sweet and opalescent, the bivalves are delicious enough to throw even the most dedicated pup-hunter off the scent. But because St. Marys--and the hotel--are ground zero for starting and ending trips to wild, gorgeous Cumberland Island National Seashore, it can be picked up soon enough. The restorative qualities of hush puppies--as is well known in the region--are incalculable. So much so, in fact, that the pups themselves have become the stuff of legends.

GUIDEBOOK

Where to Eat Hush Puppies

(Since street addresses are not available in some cases, call for directions.)

Archie’s Restaurant, U.S. 17, Darien, Ga.; tel. (912) 437-4363.

Crazy Crab, South Carolina 278, Hilton Head, S.C.; (803) 681-5021.

Hunter’s Cafe and Lounge, County 2, Shellman Bluff, Ga.; (912) 832-5848.

Love’s Seafood, 6817 Basin Road, Savannah, Ga., (912) 925-3616.

Seagle’s, Riverview Hotel, 105 Osborne St., St. Marys, Ga.; (912) 882-4187.

Shrimp Shack, South Carolina 21, St. Helena Island, S.C.; (803) 838-2962.

Speed’s Kitchen, County 2, Shellman Bluff, Ga.; (912) 832-4763.

For more information: Georgia Department of Industry, Trade & Tourism, P.O. Box 1776, Atlanta, Ga. 30301; (800) 847-4842.

South Carolina Division of Tourism, Box 71, Columbia, S.C. 29202; (803) 734-0122.