Last updated: December 3, 2020

In the Weeds

Since I was a young kid, I’ve spent a lot of time in the Lowcountry of South Carolina for beach trips and Thanksgivings in Isle of Palms, Seabrook Island, and other beaches. It’s also where a lot of my people come from. My Great Aunt and Uncle, Edith and Bill, owned a grand, old house on the Battery with a view of Fort Sumter in the distance. My Great Grandfather, Grinsfield, is buried in Magnolia Cemetery in Charleston, one of the oldest cemeteries in the United States. Charleston is also where my ancestor, William Corry, landed with his family in 1767 after emigrating from County Down, Ireland. 

Naturally enough, seafood is integral to the culinary history of the Lowcountry. Family beach trips or visits to Charleston meant oysters on the half shell, low country boil, and — more than anything — fried shrimp, flounder, and oysters. With hundreds of boats unloading their catches in Charleston and the other hamlets of the Lowcountry each day, freshness and variety were guaranteed. You’ll find that same freshness and variety on display at Po Boy’s, one of the best seafood restaurants in the Queen City.

Most of the eateries on Freedom Drive are regional or national fast food chains offering cheap, quick bites. One of the exceptions is Po Boy’s Low Country Seafood Market, though it too looks like it might have once been a Pizza Hut or Burger King. That’s where the comparisons stop, though, for nothing at Po Boy’s is done in the style of a corporate food chain. 

The interior is part sit-down restaurant with old-fashioned brown tile floors, modest picnic tables, nautical-themed bric-a-brac walls, and a counter for ordering, and part seafood market with cases stuffed with fish and shellfish you can have cooked for you or take home to prepare yourself. In pre-Covid times, I usually grabbed a seat at one of those picnic tables and enjoyed people-watching, but with the pandemic raging out of control, calling in orders for takeout has been my savior. 

As the name implies, the restaurant’s most popular dish is that New Orleans sandwich classic, the po’ boy. The origin stories of the sandwich are so various and convoluted it’s hard to tell when and where the po’ boy was born. What is known for certain is that various seafood sandwiches have been served along the Gulf Coast since the early 1800s, the oldest of which was an oyster loaf. 

The oyster po’ boy is just one of the many varieties of the classic sandwich on offer at Po Boy’s, but one of my personal favorites. Often maligned by less courageous eaters, the oyster offers a rich, mineral, sea brine taste for those willing to look past its less-than-appealing looks. The oysters are coated in a thin, simple batter with generous amounts of salt and pepper and deep fried til the color of golden honey. Crusty, French bread with a soft center is cut in half, slathered with generous amounts of their signature po’ boy sauce — a cross between thousand island dressing and a tangy remoulade — topped with thick slices of tomato and a small handful of shredded iceberg, then loaded down with several of those large, fried oysters. 

Other fine examples of this classic American sandwich at Po Boy’s Low Country Seafood Market are the shrimp, gator, soft shell crab, and catfish po’ boys. For those who don’t look kindly on the bottom feeder fish, go with the always-reliable flounder. Of course, you could order the Andouille sausage po’ boy, but I find that the porkiness of the sausage doesn’t pair too well with the zesty kick of their signature sauce. For those looking for a different condiment to pair with your sandwich, tartar sauce and mayo are also available. 

The low country boil at Po’ Boys is as good as any I have tasted on a family beach trip and comes with enough melted butter to drown a catfish. The Andouille sausage they use has both the spice and snappy casing you would expect to find at the finest Cajun eatery. Generous amounts of Old Bay ensure the potatoes and corn are well-seasoned and not lackluster. The price tag for both the small and large portion are more than reasonable at $10 and $19.

It’s exceedingly rare to find good fried pork skin cracklings at restaurants in Charlotte, so I’m proud to report that the ones at Po Boy’s are done well, priced low, and best when coated in their Cajun seasoning. Though not as comically large as the car fender sized ones you would find at a Mexican carniceria, these pork rinds offer a satisfying crunch and a protein flavor well worth the rising cholesterol. 

You don’t necessarily need to order sides for a sandwich as big and satisfying as a po’ boy, but if you are, your best bets are the mac-and-cheese, green beans, fried okra, or the gumbo. My Aunt Frankie made the best slow-simmer green beans, and the ones at Po’ Boys remind me of hers: cooked down until nearly falling apart, livened up with generous amounts of pork fat and salt and pepper, and served piping hot. The mac-and-cheese has the look and consistency of Velveeta and shells, but it is as creamy and comforting as any your mom might have made growing up. Okra is a superfood in my opinion, and frying it only heightens the earthy vegetable flavor and cuts down on the natural slime. Gumbo lives or dies on the ground sassafras leaves that set it apart from other soups and stews. Too much and the dish is overwhelmed and inedible; too little and you’re simply left with a hearty soup. Po’ Boys Low Country has found the right balance. It’s a great side for a cold winter night. 

Driving down Freedom Drive these days, it seems like an entirely new neighborhood is being superimposed on the one that was already there. As Freedom Drive’s gentrification continues and the spillover effects of development in South End, Wilmore, and Uptown raise rent and property taxes, I worry that places like Po’ Boys won’t be able to hold on. Add a global pandemic on top of that and things can look grim. I hope I’m wrong.

Long may they fry.