By Leah Eskin
Grit is grainy and annoying, as in: What’s that grit on the countertop? It’s grating, as in: Scrubbing the countertop makes me grit my teeth. It honors pluck: That girl’s got grit. Perhaps it could also pinpoint one speck of the breakfast mash and Southern side ground from white corn: grits.
But there is no scenario that calls for a single grit. Grits are served in heaps. It takes grit to conquer a bowlful of grits. They’re meant to go big, or go in the leftover bin, where they congeal into a slab that can be stashed, sliced and sizzled.
Why not sidestep the middle meal and skip straight to the endgame? Cooked, cooled, cut and crisped, grits make a compact cushion for eggs, sausage or spicy shrimp. One that takes grit to resist.