Yum. That’s my first reaction when people say Revolutionary Soup. Yum, I think to myself. Then I yell, “Shrimp and Grits!” and my eyes get all bulgy and excited like I just heard they were giving away free Jimmy Choo’s down at the corner of Rugby Road or something.
I love Revolutionary Soup. But I love their Shrimp and Grits even more. I almost titled this piece, “Ode to Shrimp and Grits.” I really did. Dated a guy once who used to wax poetic about olive loaf, even wrote a poem called, “Ode to Olive Loaf.” Now I know how he feels. Because after my eyes get all bulgy and excited, they settle into a kind of shrimp and grits euphoria, and I sigh heavily, and I say it again while breathing out – a long, breathy, relaxing Kundalini breath. “Revolutionary Soup Shrimp and Griiiiiiitsssssssssssss.” It’s very meditative. And I do love ’em.
I’ve been to this place three times – all three visits for lunch to the one on The Corner, so I can’t vouch for the other location. I can’t even offer a proper review because the only time I DIDN’T order the Shrimp and Grits was on the first visit when I didn’t know any better. I ordered their Spicy Senegalese Peanut Tofu, the soup their famous for. The soup other people always write about. But my husband was smarter and ordered my Shrimp and Grits (I’ve become very possessive).
The peanut soup was yummy – super hot temperature-wise with a great nutty flavor, fresh, local tofu, and real heat. I would get it again – but only if they discontinued the Shrimp and Grits. And only after a prolonged mourning period complete with black clothing and lots of wailing. I’m going through a mini-version of this now because I learned my favorite watering hole, The Sharp Edge, in Pittsburgh, has discontinued their Abbey Burger. “Not that many people ordered it,” I was told on my last visit over the weekend. What!?!?! Not order a cheeseburger that is half sirloin, half veal with ale-braised onions? I did. All the frikkin’ time. (sniff)
Anyway, I sat there enjoying my Senegalese soup, but looking longingly at hubby’s Shrimp and Grits. That buttery yellow color, that creamy texture with the grittiness that can only come from a stone-ground grit. That comforting buttery starchy goodness. Those huge shrimpers. Those lovely wonderfully meaty strimps flavoring my Shrimp and Grits that hubby was proceeding to gulp down with abandon. I finished my soup completely satisfied, but with a pouty face.
But never fear, on second and third visits the tables were turned! I stated very firmly the Shrimp and Grits would be mine, so hubby was forced to settle for the Adam’s Apple Sandwich (Turkey, Chevre, Local Apple Slices, Bacon, Garlic Aioli, Housemade Apple Butter, and Arugula on Sunflour Wheat Bread). He would’ve ordered the grits too, but you see, we aren’t allowed to order the same thing so we can share. House rule. And my grits weren’t goin’ nowhere else but in mine own tum tum.
Have to admit, I tasted his sandwich. Sandwich was good. Bacon was good. Apple butter was good. But grits were better. Grits were hot and burned mouth. Libby didn’t care. Libby inhaled grits. Libby wanted more. I was like a cavewoman who hadn’t eaten. It wasn’t pretty.
By the third visit we had settled into our roles: Shrimp and Grits for me, anything else for him. This time he was “stuck” with their Ham and Brie sandwich (Ham, Brie, Arugula, with Fig Dijon Sauce on Sunflour Wheat Bread). I shouldn’t say “stuck” with, because it was very tasty. After all, Rev Soup (what Cvillers call it) uses as much local, organic produce as they can. Yes, I did have a bite of that sandwich. I stopped inhaling my Shrimp and Grits long enough to take a obligatory bite, say, “Um, good,” then resume my inhaling motions. Again, it wasn’t pretty. But it was damn good.
Am I proud of the fact that as a restaurant reviewer I can’t seem to order something different? No. Do I care? No. Let’s just say that instead of offering a comprehensive review of Rev Soup it’s more of a glowing review of their S&G. My S&G. Ode to S&G.