Unearth The Voyage
Step off the sand and into Acme Lowcountry Kitchen, where the tide brings more than waves. Here, breakfast through lunch feels like a love letter to coastal Carolina traditions, plated with care and a wink of beach-town charm. You taste history in every bite, from shrimp kissed by brine to rice that tells a story. If you crave Lowcountry the way it used to be, this is where you settle in and stay awhile.
Shrimp and Grits
At Acme, shrimp and grits arrive like a postcard from the marsh, all creamy, stone-ground goodness crowned with sweet local shrimp. You get bacon-scented richness, a whisper of garlic, and scallions for lift. Every forkful tastes like salt air and comfort.
This classic is not fussy, just dialed-in craft built on fresh seafood and patient stirring. You will find textures that play nice: silky grits, snappy shrimp, and smoky bits. It is hearty enough for breakfast but elegant enough for lunch.
Frogmore Stew (Lowcountry Boil)
When Acme leans into tradition, the Lowcountry boil does the talking. Piled high with shrimp, sausage, corn, and potatoes, it is a communal mood on a platter. Steam carries Old Bay and lemon up to your nose, and suddenly conversation gets louder.
You pick with your hands, chase bites with cold drinks, and taste the coast in real time. No frills, just honest cooking that respects the dock and the field. It is casual, messy, and exactly right.
She-Crab Soup
This bowl is Charleston elegance with toes in the sand. Acme’s she-crab soup is velvety, crab-sweet, and lightly perfumed with a splash of sherry. A spoon sinks in slowly, lifting generous lumps that prove they are not skimping.
The flavor is layered: buttery stock, roe richness when available, and a soft spice glow. You sip, pause, then sip again, because comfort this smooth deserves a moment. It feels celebratory without being precious.
Gullah Red Rice
Acme’s red rice carries the heartbeat of the Lowcountry. Each tomato-glossed grain stays distinct, scented with onions, peppers, and savory sausage. There is warmth, not heat, and a lingering sweetness from slow-cooked aromatics.
You will want this beside seafood or fried chicken, though it can stand alone confidently. It is heritage you can taste, seasoned by time and community. A side that behaves like the main event, and you will not argue.
Collard Greens
These collards speak in a low, smoky register, like a porch story at dusk. Acme cooks them down slow with cured meat until the stems surrender and the pot liquor shines. A dash of vinegar wakes everything up.
You will chase the last spoonful with cornbread if you are smart. The greens land earthy, savory, and gently peppered, generous but never heavy. They taste like patience and pride in equal measure.
Hoppin’ John
Good luck tastes better when it is seasoned right. Acme’s Hoppin’ John brings black-eyed peas and rice together with porky depth and a soft pepper tickle. The grains stay fluffy, the peas hold their shape, and the broth clings just enough.
Add collards and you have the full prosperity package on one plate. It is humble, filling, and quietly celebratory. You do not need New Year’s to order it, just an appetite for tradition.
Okra Soup (Gullah Okra Soup)
Okra soup at Acme is where garden and tide shake hands. Rounds of okra soften into a silky thickener while tomatoes, onions, and seafood share the spotlight. A little smoke from cured meat drifts through the broth.
You get comfort without heaviness and depth without fuss. The bowl arrives bright, savory, and quietly nostalgic. It is coastal sustenance, the kind that makes conversation slow down.
Charleston Red Rice
Acme’s Charleston red rice leans toward balance and clarity. Tomato and onion build a gentle, savory base while each grain stays lively and separate. There is a touch of sausage for depth and a clean finish.
It is the side you keep stealing bites from between oysters and shrimp. Familiar but refined, it anchors the plate without stealing the show. You will order it again and call it insurance.
Chicken Bog
If comfort had a coastline, chicken bog would live there. At Acme, the rice drinks in chicken stock until plump, then mingles with tender shreds and sausage. The seasoning is savory, peppery, and quietly smoky.
It lands hearty but not heavy, a bowl that hugs back after a windy beach walk. You taste Sunday supper and tailgate tradition at once. It is humble, reliable, and deeply satisfying.
Oyster Roast
Acme channels the spirit of a dockside roast with briny, just-opened oysters. You crack shells, splash lemon, maybe swipe cocktail sauce, and chase with a grin. The salinity tastes like a sea breeze in motion.
It is social by design, the kind of plate that turns neighbors into friends. Simple technique lets the oysters do the talking. You will remember the sweetness long after the shells cool.
Pimento Cheese
Sharp cheddar, mayo, and pimentos become pure Southern charm at Acme. The spread hits creamy first, then tangy, with a gentle pepper glow. Scoop it with toast, celery, or stack it on a burger and do not apologize.
It is snackable, social, and slightly addictive. You will keep reaching back between sips and stories. Sometimes the simplest thing at the table steals the spotlight without trying.
Sweet Potato Pone
Sweet potato pone at Acme tastes like family recipes passed down quietly. Grated potatoes bake into a tender, custardy slab with cinnamon warmth and caramel edges. It is less cake, more spoonable comfort.
A little butter or syrup nudges it toward dessert, though it plays nicely beside savory plates. You get earthy sweetness and spice without too much sugar. It lingers like a good song.
Benne Seed Cookies
These benne seed cookies finish a meal with a crisp, toasty whisper. Sesame sings first, buttery crumbs follow, and luck feels baked right in. They are delicate without being shy.
Grab a few with coffee after a beach walk, or tuck them beside she-crab soup for contrast. The sweetness is restrained, letting the nuttiness shine. You will want an extra napkin and another round.
