"Have a Blessed Sunday"

As we drove down the highway towards Savannah, we made a quick stop at a roadside fruit stand advertising boiled peanuts.  Boiled peanut shacks are all up and down the roads, but we had yet to try them. 

Let me introduce Mrs. Barbara Pinckney.  Just as we were leaving the stand with our produce and peanuts, I realized I had no idea how to eat them.  Mrs. Pinckney was parked next to us, having just left church.  I asked her if she could tell me about boiled peanuts and she was gracious enough to get out of her car and give us a demonstration - and a cooking lesson, in case we want to make them back home (boil green peanuts in plenty of heavily salted water for 2 hours, then let sit in hot water at least an hour and serve right out of the hot water).

When we parted, Mrs. Pinckney warmly shook my hand and sent us off with a parting "Hope you have a blessed Sunday."

When she told me her name, I recognized it immediately - we ate lunch on Pinckney Street in Charleston Saturday, right around the corner from the Pinckney Hotel.  Major General Charles Cotesworth Pinckney was John Adam's vice-presidential running mate for the Presidential election that elected Thomas Jefferson.  He was also a major plantation owner, and part of his plantation is now the Pinckney Island Wildlife Refuge.

Boiled peanuts are not pretty, but they are tasty!  The flesh inside gets creamy (and salty) and the warm peanut juice runs down your chin.

Back at the fruit stand, we enjoyed buying some beautiful local produce - these heirloom zebra tomatoes are going to go with some pear and gorgonzola ravioli we bought.

Relish, pickles, and jams are row upon row.  We have our 50 kinds of salsa, but they have Chow-Chow and pickled everything, including watermelon rind.

Never been a big grits fan, but Magnolias Restaurant made me a convert when I had their shrimp and sausage in Tasso Gravy over creamy grits.

Sweet little bouquets of flowers were tempting.

We opted for a watermelon to see if it is as good down here in the low country as we expect.

Before we departed John's Island (this is where our home exchange was located - 20 minutes outside Charleston), we stopped to see the famed Angel Oak.  This tree is the biggest tree east of the Mississippi.  It may be the largest live oak tree in the world.  Its canopy stretched 180 feet.  It is pretty hard to convey how majestic it is.

The circumference of the tree is 28 feet and Ben looks pretty puny in comparison. This 30 second video may give a better idea.

I am including a picture of our home-away-from-home on John's Island.  Many friends are curious what it is like to do a home exchange... Each day as we drove "home" along River Road, in a tunnel of giant oaks draped with Spanish moss, we were very happy to have this lovely, comfortable home to hang our hats.  We stayed in touch regularly with the Kennedys who were enjoying SLO with friends.

Next post...Savannah!

Route Canal and Plantation Visitation

The last is best, in terms of our day of southern exposure.  A late afternoon visit to Old Santee Canal State Park was magical, if short-lived.  We arrived late enough that there was only time for an hour canoe trip ($6 for both of us!).  We hopped in our trusty canoe and started paddling through the florescent duck weed, past cypress trees, hanging with moss and filled with nesting birds, down the old canal.

We thought it unwise to take our cell phones out into a tippy canoe, so this image above is "borrowed", but gives good idea of the environment.

We entered the beautiful world of the shaded, black water canals, with a look out for turtles, venomous snakes and alligators (good reason to keep the canoe steady and sit low). We quietly glided along, sometimes just skimming some shallow canal bottoms, coming upon tiny floating flowers, strange cypress trees and fish sliding underneath us.  The natural world is busy overtaking the manmade - the canals were once a vital shipping link between rivers.

Speaking of man-made, earlier in the day we had visited Middleton Place, a former rice plantation, now preserved as gardens and museum.

In 1741 this plantation was begun by a Middleton, whose family, before and after, exemplified the landed gentry who morphed over time into American revolutionaries and later into Secessionists.  Rice  became their golden cash crop and required the work of 800 slaves.  The Middletons were essentially Southern Aristocrats who envisioned, and with lots of cheap human labor built, elaborate gardens and pools to surround their houses (burned to the ground by a rowdy New York brigade immediately after Confederate surrender).

The grounds are beautifully maintained and docents roam around to help visitors understand the complex history of plantations and their uneasy relationship with slavery.  With slaves outnumbering their masters, 10 to 1, you can imagine how necessary it was for the owners to maintain control. 

This illustration shows slave women grinding the bran away from rice to produce valuable white rice, so desired by the English market.  A woman was required to produce 7 pestle-fulls of rice or risk 12 lashes for failure to do so.

Here I am in Ghana this summer, learning how to pound fufu, with a similar mortar and pestle.  I was able to give the fufu paste about 3 limp blows before I was happy to turn it back over to my friends.  The pestle was heavy!  Note that while in Ghana I also visited the Elmina slave castle where the slave trade was in full swing exporting human misery, back in this era. 

This gargantuan oak is called the Middleton Tree.  Ben noted that the old tree has been cabled up to try to keep it together.  He also commented that he sees no effort at Middleton to plant new oaks for the future.

Middleton Place is huge!  It is difficult to get your bearings, the gardens and walks are extensive.  

The restaurant on the plantation is great with truly gracious service.  Ben immediately settled on a South Carolina IPA.

He was feeling virtuous and ordered their locally sourced vegetarian dish, which was fresh and light.

I, on the other hand, gave in to the Devil on my shoulder and ordered the pecan-smoked pulled pork and hoppin' john.  I am going to have to go on such a strict diet after this trip!

As we left Middleton Place, we stopped to pet June and May, the latest occupants in chains.

Beautiful Beaufort (Bew-fert) and Houdini Coastline

Eat first, is often our motto. 

Hence, when we arrived in Beaufort, for our low country day trip, we sidled right into Nippy's for a shrimp basket, and fish tacos for Ben.

  

Best not to order tacos in South Carolina, when you could have had a local specialty, Ben has realized.  

We have learned that small town cooks here are very heavy on the salt shaker, which is worrying our blood pressure.  However, the friendly greetings by Betty, Des Sr., and Diane were worth it.

Beaufort has more antebellum houses per square block than Savannah, so we were told.  We took the handy walking tour map provided by the Visitor Center and did a walk-about. 

Beaufort has an interesting history, especially after the Civil War, when federal re-constructionists took the area under control.  Black freedmen developed a black business and political culture and Beaufort flourished with a black middle and upper class.

No one was more influential than Robert Smalls, a slave who had commandeered the USS Planter and escaped with his family. He became a successful businessman and eventually, a Congressman.  He returned to Beaufort and bought his former master's house, where he lived until he died.  

In a sad turn of events in US history, Jim Crow laws passed by South Carolina and upheld by the Supreme Court, reversed the status of black people to second class, and caused a huge migration of the population out of Beaufort as they lost jobs and businesses.

This yo-yoing of Civil rights gains and losses goes on today.  We are back to the shameful practice of some States restricting voting rights, as just one example.

Political lesson over.  

Pictures can't do justice to the majestic live oaks festooned with Spanish moss.  Though it was an overcast day, the miles of lowland marshes were spectacular.

This cemetery had graves decorated with both US and Confederate flags.  This grave held 20 year old Captain Paul Hamilton who was given an elegnt epitaph which read in part, that "His gallantry was only equalled by his modesty."  

it moved me to consider how many millions of bright souls like his were extinguished in that terrible struggle for our Nation's soul.

We moved on to drive to Hunting Island, where a small State park provides the chance to walk through a maritime forest, a jungle of Palmetto, Loblolly pines, live oaks, wax myrtle, and even prickly pear cactus sprouts.  This info brought to you by Ben!

The forest goes right up to the surf line.  The surf line, by the way, is always moving.  This lighthouse, built in 1875, was designed to be movable. And move it, they did. 

In 1889 it became necessary to relocate it inland 1.25 miles, as it was already overcome by severe erosion, and was sitting out in the surf. The coastline has continued to recede due to hurricanes. The towering lighthouse is now just a hundred yards from the surf line!  May be time to move again soon.

172 steps to the top is only equal to 10 NYC subway exit staircases, so we climbed it with ease.  

A desire on my part to try she-crab soup took us on a detour to Lady's Island, and a local joint hanging over the docks. Tried it.

Enough said.

The clouds that had reigned the skies all day were finally breached by the sun, for a glorious sunset over the low country.

Charmed, I'm sure and Rare Common Sense

The low country - marshlands riveted by a blending of fresh and sea water - are the life blood of Charleston and environs.  We soar above them on bridges of amazing heights on our way into Charleston.  They teem with life and feed the soul of this community.  We hope to learn more about them, but we are headed back into town to join a walking tour with a popular local, Michael Trouche, a seventh generation Charlestonian.

This narrow walk, a city block long and only a few feet wide, squeezing between two homes, is an excellent example of the little surprises that walking around Charleston offers.  There are charming tableaus aplenty.  Immaculate gardens invite you to peek in, but not enter (as signs will sometimes politely remind you).

Though all you can see of this grand house is the marble steps, the mahogany door, shutters to ward off storms (and gate!), Michael regaled us about the wealthy owner (he later stopped our tour to say Hi) who found an undetonated Civil War shell buried in his garden and decided to disarm it himself, by carefully lowering it into a barrel of water, and hauling it out of town to do the deed.  It seems that if he had called the proper authorities, they would have disarmed it AND confiscated it.  According to Michael, Charlestonians will go to some lengths to keep their historical artifacts to themselves.

Homes are frequently set sideways on their lots, so that the narrow side of the house faces the street.  The long porches, so situated, take advantage of cooling breezes, essential during the long, steamy summers. 

Not a beautiful picture, but this was interesting.  Our guide pointed out that the brick buildings were usually covered by a layer of stucco scored to look like stone (a fashionable, but unavailable building supply).  The fashion now, as the stucco breaks down, is to leave it patch-worked rather that restore the stucco, in a tribute to historical authenticity.

These bright pink lilies are just now flowering around Charleston.  They are called Hurricane Lilies because they bloom during hurricane season.  We check the skies...

St. Michael's Anglican Church was first established in the 1680's.  This Georgian style building, erected in 1752, has the box pews that we often saw in old churches in Washington DC or NYC - members subscribed to their pews and families could "own" the pew for generations.

Anglicans in Charleston were moving away from the supernatural emblems of Christian faith.  Cherubs fell out of favor and the dove symbol was replaced by a pineapple, the symbol of Charleston hospitality.  A common-sense approach to Christianity displaced the mystical and the church was looked to as a moral guide.  George Washington worshiped in this church while visiting his fellow founding fathers in Charleston.

Louis Comfort Tiffany was commissioned to design the windows in St. Michaels and they were installed in 1897 and 1905.  My poor picture cannot do justice to the revolutionary methods Tiffany employed to make glass glow with color combinations never seen before.

The French Huguenot Church was established in 1681 by Calvinist Huguenots who fled religious persecution in France and were attracted to Charleston by its tolerance.  In 1796 the first church was blown up to stop the spread of a downtown fire.

This graceful Gothic Revival church was built in 1845 to then be almost destroyed by Union shelling during the Civil War, when Charleston was bombed steadily for two years.  After the fall of Charleston in 1865, Union soldiers packed up the valuable organ, and were loading it on a ship bound for New York, when the organist and church ladies intervened and convinced them to return it.

History lessons really work up an appetite, so we stopped into Bull Street Gourmet and Market for lunch.  I ordered duck confit hash and Ben ordered an oyster po'boy.  Whether you bathe your food in duck fat or dip it in cornmeal and fry it, it's good to the last bite!

I was determined to squeeze in a dessert, so I asked the young gal at the counter whether I should try the peanut butter pie.  "I wouldn't." she said.  

I was quite surprised and asked if there was something better.  She said, "It's delicious, I just would never pay $5 for such a skimpy piece of pie."  I said, "I don't mind, I just want to try a local speciality."  She said, "Fine, but I'm only going to charge you $3.50."

Southern common sense AND charm!

Time to dip our toes in the Atlantic.  We drive down to Folly Island and stroll the fine-as-dust white sand beach.  The low country marshes fade into the dunes which are punctuated with wind fences. The water is cool, not cold, and would be inviting for a swim it it weren't for erratic waves pounding in and a giant sign warning "No Swimming" due to "Deadly Currents."

Happy to only enter the water up to my ankles!

Darlin', Honey, Sweetheart

We left vivacious NYC and landed via Jet Blue in the epicenter of southern graciousness. Before we even made it to our new home exchange destination, or downtown Charleston, we stopped at Trader Joe's for provisions and encountered our first charm offensive.  The clerks were just nice as pie.  We may come home sayin' "y'all" cause it just sounds so sweet (I was cured of this after moving from Oklahoma, but it's fun to slip back into it).  Our TJ's clerk told us he is moving to SLO soon, so we'll keep an eye out for him.

We spent our first evening enjoying our new home base.  Today, before our first venture into downtown Charleston, we headed to The Tomato Shed for lunch, based on a review.  The Tomato Shed grows organic produce and cooks with it, but by the time the food hits your plate it has been transformed into down-home cookin'.  Our waitress referred to me as Darlin', then Honey, but she reserved Sweetheart for Ben, as in, "Just pay that bill at the counter, Sweetheart."

My lunch of local shrimp (crunchy and fresh), came with tomato pie (tomatoes, mayo and cheese baked on a biscuit crust) and turnips and greens - you can see I couldn't wait to eat the biscuit!  Ben ordered crab cakes (which were pretty much just great crab).  The choice of sides was amazing -grits and you name it.  I consulted their cookbook and can assure you that even with organic vegetables, a regular diet of this food could kill you.

We spent several hours wandering around downtown Charleston and honestly, none of my pictures can do it justice.  Charleston bleeds charm!  The historic buildings, homes and gardens are just jaw-dropping.  Spanish moss drapes off the giant live oaks, and street paving changes from slate, to brick to cobblestone - you do have to really watch where you walk - those trees stretching across narrow streets to create a canopy also have roots that lift the sidewalks completely out of the ground.

Secret, small gardens are a wonderful discovery and most are enclosed by gates (Charleston is famous for ornate, hand-crated wrought iron).

Homes often sit side-ways on their lots in order to take advantage of cooling breezes that are so essential in steamy summers.

We enjoyed looking into old cemeteries that are often alongside churches established as early as the 1600's.  Two signers of the US Constitution plus two signers of the Declaration of Independence lived in and are buried in Charleston.

This marker for Anna Hayes Bennett caught my fancy as it seemed she was being posthumously damned with faint praise, "She hath done what she could."  Hoping that is not my final epitaph!

Real gas lamps on houses really caught our interest.  Just seeing flames made us think about Charleston's history of destruction by fire, flood and earthquake.  

In 1838 an enormous fire broke out in Charleston and in less than 18 hours destroyed over 1000 homes and buildings and took many lives.  Approximately 1/4 of all the businesses in wealthy Charleston were destroyed, rendering many people penniless.  Just like the 1925 earthquake that leveled Santa Barbara, the communities used the tragedy as an opportunity to rebuild their cities in a new style and with new safety precautions.  Wood roofs and most wood construction was banned.  New roofs were metal or slate and buildings were constructed of brick and stucco.   

One disaster follows another - in 1886 a giant earthquake severely damaged Charleston.

Fire history got Ben's attention.  We stopped in a working fire station to see the antique fire trucks housed in the back.  Charleston was so susceptible to fire - buildings close together and strong winds to blow embers - that Charleston had to develop effective fire fighting methods.  One innovation was underground water wells that stored the brackish water from the bay.  Firetrucks could pull up, lower hoses into the wells covered by manhole covers, and pump water onto the fire.

Ben's First Blog Report:

Peering in the open bay of the brick fire station, we saw old pieces of apparatus- several 1920's era engines and a horse drawn steam-engine, along with antique fire department equipment.  This Gamewell Fire Alarm Punch was a paper punch tape device connected to pull boxes located at intersections around the city. 

Someone discovering a fire would sound the alarm by pulling the lever on a box nearby.  An electric signal would be sent to the punch machine in the central office, and a three digit code would be automatically punched in the tape. The number would correlate to the street intersection nearest the fire, and the alarm bell in the station tower would be rung with the number of rings related to the three digit code - dispatching equipment and crews. 

The number on the tape coincided with a stack of cards, each with a number and description of the intersection or building the alarm came from. This was called a "Joker Card" system - because the punch tape could not produce any number with zero in it as there is no way to ring a bell "zero" times! 

The sky was beautiful above St. Michael's Church (circa 1752) as we walked back to our car after our personal sidewalk tour of Charleston.  The drive home was spectacular, with a gold and pink sunset over the marshy waterways of the Low Country.  We didn't pull over to get a picture, but hope for another chance!