By Steve Seguin 

Hell, the best burger in town doesn’t even have a brick-and-mortar location. I’d much rather find this place in a brewery courtyard than pay fine dining prices for a working-class hero like the cheeseburger any day.

How do you articulate the unexplainable? That tip-of-your-tongue, gut feeling from deep within your marrow? An interminable essence brought on when your teeth effortlessly sink into a properly glazed Korean bulgogi beef rib, or when you finally watch "The Wizard of Oz" with "Dark Side of the Moon" for the first time? These moments, among others, have only served to whet my appetite for more. 

Combing the vicinity for new taste experiences, my path leads me away from the tourist-laden areas and into more offbeat territory. Some of these places do not show up on Google when you search “Charleston Food” but they're worth finding and taking the risk.

I don’t mean risk as in Indiana-Jones-scouring-the-Earth-for-religious-relics-while-being-perilously-chased-down kind of way. I mean you might come up empty-handed. But that can happen in a familiar restaurant, too. You know what to expect and familiarity is comforting but something feels off — like the sheer ease of access and availability devalues the experience.

How do you articulate the unexplainable? That tip-of-your-tongue, gut feeling from deep within your marrow? 

Where's the exhilaration of discovery? When you try that Vietnamese restaurant you pass on your daily commute? Or spot a Tom Waits record in a bin at Goodwill? That feeling you get when you overhear coworkers discuss the little Jamaican place with oxtails and curried goat? Or when your girlfriend drags you antiquing for a vintage tea set and you find a stash of STAX records instead? These are the unexpected moments that shape our vivid memories and experiences. 

One could view them as happenstance, but I don't. I stopped believing in chance encounters years ago. Now I consider them nudges from the universe tapping our collective shoulders and rewarding curiosity. Ferris Bueller says it best, “stop and look around once in a while or you could miss it.”

Where's the exhilaration of discovery? When you try that Vietnamese restaurant you pass on your daily commute? Or spot a Tom Waits record in a bin at Goodwill?

Lately, I'm seeking places devoid of “influencers.” Dives without diners who would rather put their food through a photo shoot than eat it. Tucked away cafes and counter-service joints lacking queued-up tourists. I’m talking taco trucks and gyro carts posted up in parking lots selling soulful falafel and comforting tortas. Bowls of Pho inside Asian supermarkets. A Filipino pop-up selling drool-inducing dishes like pancit and sisig. Hell, the best burger in town doesn’t even have a brick-and-mortar location. I’d much rather find this place in a brewery courtyard than pay fine dining prices for a working-class hero like a cheeseburger any day.

Charleston's food and beverage scene is experiencing change with many businesses fighting to survive the debilitating pandemic. Meanwhile, several big-name chefs have either stepped back or moved on to new ventures. Now is the time to hold a prism to our eye, fracture the light and see the full spectrum of our dining culture here.

Lately, I'm seeking places devoid of “influencers.” Dives without diners who would rather put their food through a photo shoot than eat it. 

This is what I want to share with you. Join me here each week for a new adventure, a new journey, and some fresh perspective on food and culture. We will venture away from downtown and off the peninsula for little tastes of Mexico, Cuba, Thailand, Peru, Jamaica, The Philippines and Vietnam, to name a few. Places where fantastic food, enthralling stories, and diversity combine. If we are to call ourselves a “great” food city, this must be part of our dialogue. It’s their chance to shine.