The Cure For Everything Is Salt …
… tears, sweat, and the sea. (Dinesen)
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Charleston is an eating town, and I’m a culinary whore. That’s probably the kind way of putting it. Six hours after a meal at Hyman’s, I’m still full. “Never want to eat again” full. But still, we venture to our last dinner of the trip, to a place called Slightly North of Broad. To the locals, SNOB.
We started out with their SNOB martini, made with locally produced Firefly vodka. The muscatine wine with which the vodka is infused gives it a subtle sweetness that worked really well with the blue cheese olives. So well, I ordered another. And my appetite returned.
Appetizer, split between two: duck confit and cashews wrapped in romaine with a sweet-sauce dipping sauce. And then two fish dishes, traded: triggerfish with chive and cream sauce, and flounder stuffed with deviled crab. Both, extraordinary preparations and perfectly balanced flavors. We did what we almost never do … we ordered dessert. A key lime pie chased with muscat.
The decor is homey (though the Christmas accents were on overdrive). The room, small and cozy. And while the winelist could be seen as a little anemic, there are some lovely choices on both their regular and reserve lists.
They also sell t-shirts. How could I not?
