A couple of weeks ago, when Judy was here, we stopped at Gullah Grub. It's a very nice restaurant in an old white house at the crossroads in Frogmore. (I say "the crossroads" because I don't really think it's big enough for more than one.) While we were there, there was a DVD playing with the chef showing you how to cook several dishes, including fried chicken. Unfortunately, fried chicken wasn't on the menu. As we were leaving, Judy commented that they would either have to change the DVD or start offering fried chicken. The young man behind the counter, who turned out to be the chef's son, went to get something for us and came back saying that he had told his Dad about our comment and Dad had said if we would call a day in advance, he would see that there was fried chicken for us.
We didn't make it back while Judy was still visiting, but I decided I would do this research on my own. I called to ask if the offer was still open. It was. I explained that there would be only one for fried chicken and that if it was too much trouble for just one person, I would completely understand. No, they said. They remembered the conversation and would be willing to make fried chicken even if it were just for me.
That, of course, could not be resisted. Yesterday I drove out to Frogmore again and was welcomed hospitably. The fried chicken duly appeared, along with butter beans and collards, as requested. I had to make myself slow down so as not to gulp it all down in a rush. It was that good. The collard greens and butter beans were better than I believe I have ever had, except maybe back when I was a kid visiting relatives in the South. I even got an explanation of how they got the chicken so crisp but light. I doubt I'll ever be able to come close to replicating it, but I will certainly remember it. Not to mention the good folks who were so kind and obliging.
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