
The other two are great vehicles for other flavours, but overwhelmingly bland on their own. The difference is striking: the stoneground grits, both the yellow kind I buy online and the blue variety kindly gifted to me by Dan Doherty, chef at Duck and Waffle and closet grits enthusiast, taste distinctly of corn.

This, connoisseurs believe, is what gives stoneground grits their particular flavour and texture, as well as improving their nutritional value.

The more expensive stoneground variety boasts a distinctive speckled appearance that is proof it has been made from the whole kernel, rather than having its hull and germ removed to extend its shelf life. I order stoneground grits, old-fashioned grits and quick grits – the first two coarse, the last rather finer. However, after much poking around in the back end of Google, a US candy importer in Aldershot saves my bacon. Unfortunately, although Anson Mills does ship its fine products across the ocean, the minimum order quantity is 10lb (4.5kg), and my freezer is not quite large enough to absorb the excess. Also, for historical reasons, the two products are milled in a different way, which means they behave differently in the pot. They explain that traditional grits are made from softer varieties known as “dent” corn, which taste different to the harder “flint” corn used for polenta (“more corn flavour upfront … with supporting floral and mineral notes”). McDonald directs me towards Anson Mills of South Carolina, purveyors of goods from “organic heirloom grains” – the creme de la creme of corn dealers. If you are writing about perfection, you can’t suggest any substitutes you have to begin with the real thing.” Cornmeal is also a completely different product altogether. I would never suggest that you make that substitution. He is very firm on the issue: “Polenta is not a substitute for hominy grits. It is easy enough to find polenta and cornmeal in larger supermarkets but, according to Brad McDonald, the Mississippi-born chef at the Lockhart, all corn is not made alike. Tracking down the raw materials for grits is surprisingly tricky in Britain. But the best way to appreciate this humble Southern classic is at home, preferably with a pitcher of sweet tea and a soundtrack of the blues.
HOW DO YOU MAKE CHEESE GRITS FULL
A man full of is a man of peace.” Peacemakers or not, they are making inroads in the UK on the back of the mania for all things Americana: the Lockhart in London does a quite superlative version with shrimp, and they have popped up on the menu at Red’s True Barbecue in Manchester, Squid & Whale in Glasgow, Stovells in Surrey and Norse in Harrogate. The Charleston Post and Courier has even suggested grits are the key to world peace, declaring that given enough grits, “the inhabitants of planet Earth would have nothing to fight about. As the official prepared food of the state of Georgia, grits have become a byword for Southern identity. And not just any old breakfast either: this sloppy corn porridge is a source of fierce regional pride.

In the American South, they are breakfast. I n Britain, grits are those annoying scratchy things that fly at your windscreen in the depths of winter.
