Shrimp and Grits

There are those who say DC is a Southern town, those who say DC is a Northern town tucked into the South, and there's John F. Kennedy, who said DC offered only the best of Southern efficiency and Northern hospitality. I say DC is a territory with no representation for all its taxation.

But chefs around here spare not with the Southern food. Surprisingly, Georgia Brown's is one of our only restaurants that advertises itself as a Southern eatery. But it's hardly the only spot serving spoonbread, collard greens, Black Forest ham, fried catfish and fancy versions of coleslaw. My old boss Susan McCreight Lindeborg serves some of the city's finest hushpuppies at The Majestic Café. And who doesn't serve some version of shrimp and cheese grits?

I wish I liked cheese grits, because they are so ubiquitous. I like plain grits. I know to get those at the Florida Avenue Grill, any morning but Sunday when they are closed. But cheese grits taste like a lot of melted cheese with too much pepper and salt, with the grainy texture of gooey hominy.

I wish shrimp and grits faded in favor of more fried chicken. Until then, I'll happily make it at home: Bell & Evans soaked in buttermilk, crisped up in Crisco. No cheese.