Fish Tales

It’s not a summer retreat for kids. No tents are required. And for crying out loud, it is not a camp to learn about fishing. It’s a restaurant!

I remember having to explain the concept of a “fish camp” to a friend from New York once. Before then, I’d never stopped to think that these eateries are distinctly Southern and mainly found in the Carolinas. I always assumed they were commonplace restaurants.

Try telling someone “not from around here” that you are going to a fish camp, and then watch the blank stare you get in return. All serve good food—albeit fried, but always very tasty. Think fried perch, flounder, catfish, shrimp. Then add in hushpuppies, cole slaw, iced tea, and you have a true Southern feast.

These are no-frill establishments. Diners eat off of paper plates or metal trays, use plastic utensils, have paper towels for napkins, drink from plastic cups, and are apt to encounter a fish on the wall singing “Take Me to the River.” Expect to stand in line for a table. On weekends, get there early or plan to wait a very, very long time.

These eateries grew out of the fishermen’s camps of the 1930s. Imagine groups of men getting together for fishing excursions along the rivers and lakes of North and South Carolina. At day’s end, these fishermen (and some enterprising entrepreneurs) would either take their leftover catch and sell it to area restaurants or fry their bounty and offer it to the locals. Through the years, these riverside or lakeside sheds began to catch on. Locals started to visit regularly, while others would drive to find them. The sheds became modest restaurants that, over the decades, grew into large businesses.

Growing up, for me, the local fish camp was a favorite hangout after high school football games or for just getting together with a group of friends. The fare fit our meager budgets, and the casual atmosphere was a perfect setting for a group of gangly teenagers or struggling college students.

Very little has changed about the fish camp over the years: It remains dangerously affordable and serves satisfying food. It’s a great gathering place for family and friends. And without exception it is a solid, dependable business. There’s nothing high-tech about these operations. Just good food made simply.

Camaraderie, comfort food, minimal décor—come to think of it, maybe it’s a lot like camping after all. Don’t tell our friends from the North, though. It’ll just confuse ’em.