Nobody knows where it originated, but it’s thought that Jimmy Red made its way from Appalachia to James Island in Charleston, SC, sometime around 1900. Farmers there grew it and used it to make Jimmy Red hooch, which became a local legend. During Prohibition, the practice went underground.
By the early 2000s, this legendary moonshiner’s corn had nearly died out along with the last farmers to have grown it. The final few ears were saved by seed enthusiast Ted Chewning, who cultivated it and established a seed stock to preserve and revive the strain.
"In the 1980s, you used to be able to go to James Island," recalls Glenn Roberts, founder of heirloom seed purveyor Anson Mills. "And, if you knew the right people, they'd sell you delicious food out their backdoor kitchen and you'd get a jar of Jimmy Red hooch with it. But though I knew the hooch, I never knew the corn." Roberts happened to be a guest speaker at an event I attended on Callawassie Island. That was the first time I heard about it.
Later on it was Chef Forrest Parker who told me the story. During the time he served as chef de cuisine at The Drawing Room, at the Vendue Hotel in Charleston’s French Quarter we were working on a photo shoot for our magazine. “Jimmy Red is what grits must have tasted like a hundred years ago,” said Forrest. My curiosity was peaked and I then set out to see for myself what it was all about.
Embarking on a journey north from Beaufort, we pass the old Woods Brothers store, now boarded up and vacant, where we used to stop for a brown paper bag full of the best-boiled peanuts in all of Dixie.
We continue our drive, passing rural clapboard churches, until a vast pine forest opens onto stretches of verdant green marshlands, marking the entry to the ACE Basin, a federally protected watershed encompassing about 140,000 acres of coastal wilderness. Our destination - the corn currently growing on Jimmy Hagood’s land.
A century-old house emerges down a long tree-lined road. It appears small, dwarfed by centuries-old trees with veils of moss. This land, known as Lavington, has been owned and stewarded by Jimmy Hagood's family for generations. Initially used for hunting fox squirrels, wild boar, deer, and maybe raccoons, the land has now transformed into a hub for precious revival grains, a concept Hagood refers to as “conservation cuisine.” Hagood proudly declares, “Jimmy Red are some of the sweetest grits you will ever eat in your life.” Once I tasted them, I had to agree. Its high oil content provides a creamy, rich mouthful.
These grits soon became famous, bursting onto the restaurant scene as a prized heirloom cultivar that makes creamy red-flocked grits and a rich, smooth whiskey with honey-nut undertones. Made from 100 percent Jimmy Red corn, it’s the flagship spirit at High Wire Distilling Co. in Charleston.
A nearly extinct bootlegger’s corn now has a second chance. It’s gone from moonshine whiskey to haute cuisine.
Here’s how you do it. My friends at Marsh Hen Grits on Edisto Island focus on providing the best heirloom products and milling the finest grits. It’s fun to ramble through their roadside market on Hwy—174 in Edisto.
Keep reading with a 7-day free trial
Subscribe to The Diary of Southern Food Author Pat Branning to keep reading this post and get 7 days of free access to the full post archives.