Organic Dementia #7: The Quest for the Organic Grit Pt. 1

Let me start this off by pointing out that I am a Kentuckian stuck, for better or worse, in Tennessee, which is not the Deep South. This is the buckle of the Bible Belt. There are touches of southern accents but they are not Alabama accents (which have never heard the term "white collar") and they sure as hell aren’t North Carolina accents (which have an aristocracy all their own).

Jack Daniels may be king here but he does not make Bourbon. Despite recent successes, UT is no more a basketball school then UK is a football school. These people might own horses but they’re not horse people. I am a “pilgrim in an unholy land”, lost in an area filled with southerners and southern cuisine and southern values. These are not Kentucky values nor is there Kentucky cooking (which is really just a mish-mash of a lot of different styles). Bottom line, I am Kentuckian not a southerner. This is why the concept and usefulness of grits was totally lost on me until I met Jason McConnell.

Jason’s the owner and head chef at the restaurant where I work. If you follow the link on the right to the Red Pony’s website, he’s that trendily photographed fellow at the bottom of the main page sporting the soul patch and the “I’m cooler then you” look on his face. That’s gentle ribbing by the way. He’s a very nice guy and he’s good at what he does. Jason’s a southerner and grits are a mainstay at the restaurant.

One day not too long after I started working there, I ran downstairs to eat before line-up. Most days the kitchen crew throws together something (usually leftovers) for the staff to eat before the shift. It’s called family meal. On this particular day they had fried up some catfish and served it over cheese grits. Intrigued I grabbed a plate and headed back upstairs to eat.

It was damn tasty and the rest of the service staff was raving about it right along with me. A few minutes later Jason walks into the room and sits at the head of the table listening to us. He gets an incredulous sort of look on his face and says in his thick southern drawl, “Y’all act like you ain’t ever had catfish and grits before, damn.” His tone suggests that everyone but a few home schooled children in Northern California must have eaten this combination at some point.

There’s a quiet, embarrassed kind of silence from nearly everyone in the room (especially me) that speaks volumes. Somewhere in the deep recesses of my brain I’m thinking, “Fuck no, I’ve never had catfish and grits! Who in their right mind would think to put the two of them together?!?!” all the while licking the bottom of my plate, wondering if there’s any left.

Ever since, I’ve been sort of hooked. I’m pretty sure that outside the states north of Tennessee and west of Arkansas, most folks are like I was when it comes to grits. They’re that soupy crap that Cracker Barrel tries to pass off as a side item with every single one of their meals. Nobody eats them because nobody’s really sure if they’re food or some kind of cleaning solution. I've learned from watching Jason that grits are an easy, useful, versatile starch that breaks the norm of potatoes or pasta or rice. I've seen cheese grits, green chile grits, garlic grits, blue corn grits, grits parmesan, bacon cheddar grits, sweet chile grits...I could probably go on but, lest I sound like that guy in Forest Gump, I'll stop there.

Remember when I said that before I ran with this organic thing I used to buy food with every intention of making it on my day off but rarely doing so? I pulled that with grits. I didn’t buy instant grits. I bought these things called “quick grits”. They cook fast (ten minutes or so) and there’s no difference in taste that I know of. Catch is that buying grits is like buying flour. It’s hard to buy just a little bit. I’m still working my way through that one bag I bought over a month ago. They’re made by Quaker. They’re handy but they’re not organic.

Which leads me to my problem…do they make organic grits? I should hope so because you can buy organic corn and grits come from corn…don’t they? What the hell is a grit anyway? Do I really need to watch “My Cousin Vinny” again? This has taken a little bit of research and a little bit of time but I have the answers! At least, I think I do. My quest is coming to a close…

…it’s just a shame that you won’t be able to read about it until tomorrow because I have other things to do today. Take care.


“I come from the Bluegrass; where it’s whiskey for lunch, moonshine for dinner and then we start drinkin’.” – Nick Piascik