hen I was 5, my parents went to a conference on Hilton Head Island and let me tag along, leaving my brothers landlocked in central Mississippi. Two memories stand out from my first encounter with the watery majesty of this Southern icon.
For starters, it’s the first place I ever heard the term “market price.” Daddy encouraged me to eat whatever I wanted at restaurants--no kid’s menu here--so I tried my hand at swordfish. I figured anything so fresh they couldn’t put a price on it until the day it was served had to be good. And for years, I ordered based on that idea. From the right side of the menu. If it was fresh (and expensive), it had to be the best.