The 5 Spot Sandfly

I’ve had the shrimp and grits at Five Spot in Sandfly probably four or five times now, and this one was incredibly difficult to judge because, technically, the dish was kind of a mess.

It came out looking like a bowl of soup. I couldn’t identify any shrimp without digging around. There was an absolutely massive amount of cheese-flavored gravy loaded with tasso that buried everything on the plate, with a small pile of collard greens in the middle. After an archaeological endeavor, I unearthed maybe four or five medium shrimp. There were grits underneath there somewhere.

And that sauce was absolutely delicious.

That’s what makes this so frustrating.

I’d be hard-pressed to name a tastier shrimp-and-grits sauce I’ve had in Savannah. The cheese flavor was pronounced without turning the sauce stringy or making it feel like somebody had simply poured cheese sauce over grits. There was plenty of tasso, tons of flavor, and the whole thing was rich as hell. If they’d given me too little of it, I probably would’ve been begging for more.

Hell, by the end I wanted bread just so I could mop the rest of it off the plate.

But that’s also the problem: shrimp and grits isn’t supposed to be a bowl of incredible gravy that happens to have a few shrimp and some grits hiding underneath it.

The shrimp I managed to find were tender and tasty, but there simply weren’t enough of them for the shrimp to remain an equal participant in something called shrimp and grits. The grits were so completely buried that I couldn’t really evaluate them on their own at all. They became a base for the sauce rather than one of the stars of the dish.

The proportions were completely screwed up. Give me twice the grits, half that amount of sauce, and a proper serving of shrimp, and now we’re talking. Instead, one outstanding component overwhelmed the other two.

And that’s particularly interesting because I realized the sauce is the bridge between the shrimp and the grits. It should bring those two things together. Here, instead of connecting them, it swallowed them whole.

Five Spot also puts collard greens in theirs, which I haven’t encountered anywhere else around Savannah so far. I actually love that they’re doing something distinctive with the dish—and these are some of the best collards I’ve had around town. Non-traditional additions are not always welcome. But in this case, they belong on the plate. But even with that embellishment, the fundamental shrimp-grits-sauce relationship still has to work.

And this one really didn’t.

Which leads to the ridiculous conclusion that I scarfed down a shrimp-and-grits dish that I thought was poorly balanced and poorly executed at the same time thinking it was absolutely delicious.

That’s actually one of the most useful things I’ve learned from this whole project so far. I’ve started thinking about every plate in terms of four things:

Shrimp. Grits. Sauce. Balance.

Each of the first three has to be great, but the fourth determines whether they actually become an excellent shrimp-and-grits dish.

Five Spot absolutely nailed the sauce. They usually nail the whole gamut.

Fortunately, it was good enough that I damn near forgave them for everything else.

You absolutely have to have it when Chef Reggie is working.

Shrimp and grits is a complicated dish when made correctly. All ingredients need to work seamlessly together. Otherwise it’s just boring and basic. There’s no boring and basic here.

The fluffy grits shine with this cheesy, peppery, white-wine gravy. Consistency definitely varies here, but even when it’s not incredibly on point, it’s still delicious. Six large shrimp, very lightly blackened and very tasty. The bacon collards belong in this dish—some of the best collards around.

Earlier note for this same July visit: “Easily A+ big chunks of tasso ham and they add collards on top. Super fluffy grits. BEST SO FAR. I wanted to rub it on my eyebrows.”