Everyone thinks grits are Southern. This Caribbean island is changing the narrative.

Article by: Robin Catalano | Photography by Grace Bay Club, Caribbean Food & Wine Festival & Robin Catalano | Published April 14, 2026

Along communal tables dressed with crystal and multicolor-painted plates, men in breezy linen shirts and women in floral sundresses with artfully piled hair sip wine pairings at the Headliner’s Dinner, the opening fine-dining salvo of the 16^th annual Caribbean Food & Wine Festival in the Turks & Caicos Islands (TCI). Here at Rock House, a luxury, Mediterranean-inspired resort dramatically located at the edge of a limestone cliff on the northern coast of Providenciales, appreciative buzz accompanies the courses: grilled diver scallop in a silky puree of sweet corn with black truffle. Aged rum- and sorghum-glazed beef short rib. Butter-poached lobster topped with peperonata and surrounded by polka dots of chive oil . . . and grits.

photo: Robin Catalano

If these chichi environs seem like a strange place for a food dubbed “the porridge of poor Southerners” by James Beard Award-winning cookbook author Virginia Willis, the chefs and residents of TCI would disagree. “Grits play a very important role in the TCI diet. It’s popular at every food establishment in the country,” in both savory and sweet applications, says Rakesh Bahadur, executive chef of Rock House’s Vita restaurant.

The Headliner’s Dinner was the work of James Beard Award-winning chef Jeremiah Langhorne, owner of The Dabney in Washington, D.C., and a tireless promoter of Mid-Atlantic cuisine. Langhorne says he doesn’t find it challenging to elevate grits, especially when he sources them from small, artisanal mills. His dish, he explains, is a nod to a classic Southern shrimp and grits, and is “a perfect fit for Turks & Caicos, given the popularity of lobster there, and the connection we have with grits back home.”

That connection goes back centuries. Maize, a native grass of the Americas, was first domesticated 9,000 years ago in southwestern Mexico. It spread south and north, and by the time of European colonization, the crop had become a staple among Indigenous groups, including in what is now the American South. There, they consumed hominy, dried corn kernels that have undergone  a process known as nixtamalization.

British colonists referred to the ground meal as “grist,” which later became “grits.” Inexpensive and easy to store, the corn meal was quickly adopted by the enslaved West Africans brought to toil on Southern cotton plantations.

According to David Bowen, a former cultural ambassador for TCI, grits made its way across the North Atlantic after the Revolutionary War, as British loyalists packed up for the friendlier shores of Crown-ruled islands like Turks & Caicos and the Bahamas. Enslaved people and indentured laborers carried with them seeds and foodways, especially corn, laying the foundation for new culinary traditions. “A huge part of our culture was based around that,” Bowen says.

Just as in the American South, corn was eaten fresh during the growing season on TCI, and ground into a meal that could be reconstituted with water or other liquids during the winter. Easy to make, filling, and with a mild flavor that could go with virtually any protein, grits became ubiquitous around TCI, particularly when served with dry conch, a tenderized, dried-in-the-sun version of the giant marine snail, which is boiled in water before serving. Grits and dry conch is one of numerous iterations that can be found on the islands, which have fully embraced grits as national dish.

Part of the reason for grits’ continuing popularity, Bahadur says, is how easy it is to work with. The corn meal requires only liquid, usually water or milk, heat, and a liberal amount of whisking. “Their neutral flavor makes them ideal for highlighting and elevating other ingredients,” Bahadur says, noting that most chefs and home cooks also add cheese, for a creamier texture and piquancy.

Taking his cues from traditional TCI recipes, Bahadur has served grits across breakfast, lunch, and dinner, often paired with local seafood like conch, red snapper, and grouper that has been steamed or cooked in coconut milk, and finished with a drizzle of habanero oil. “We also highlight local specialties like pigtail and grits, as well as oxtail and grits,” he says of leaning into bold, celebratory flavors, especially for Sunday brunch.

The mixture of ingredients and flavors in modern grits dishes on TCI pays homage to the food’s journey across waters and cultures, from the hilly outcrops of the Balsas River Valley in Southwestern Mexico to the Cotton Belt of the American South and the sun-burnished shores of the Caribbean. But grits isn’t a borrowed tradition anymore. It has become central to the cultural identity of Turks & Caicos islanders, and continues to do what the best foods have always done: gather us, ground us, and remind us that home is less a place you’re born into than one you build.