11 Hole-In-The-Wall South Carolina Restaurants That Only Locals Know About
South Carolina’s culinary scene goes way beyond the tourist traps and fancy dining spots.
Some of the most delicious food in the Palmetto State is hiding in plain sight, tucked away in unassuming buildings where locals line up for mouthwatering meals.
I’ve spent years exploring these hidden gems, and I’m finally ready to share my secret list.
These 11 hole-in-the-wall restaurants serve up authentic Southern flavors with a side of hospitality you just can’t find in guidebooks.
1. Hannibal’s Kitchen: Charleston’s Soul Food Secret
Stumbling upon Hannibal’s Kitchen was like finding buried treasure in Charleston’s East Side. This family-run joint has been dishing out Gullah-Geechee cuisine since 1985, and boy, does it deliver!
I nearly drove past its modest exterior, but the aroma of garlic crabs and shrimp pulled me in like a magnet. Inside, the no-frills dining room buzzes with locals who know that the crab rice here is worth writing home about.
What makes Hannibal’s special isn’t fancy decor or tourist-friendly gimmicks—it’s authentic Low Country cooking that hasn’t changed in decades. Their shark steak sandwich is legendary, and at prices that’ll make your wallet as happy as your stomach. Cash only, folks—just like the good old days!
2. Dave’s Carry-Out: Fried Seafood Heaven In A Paper Bag
Blink and you’ll miss Dave’s Carry-Out, a tiny spot on Charleston’s Morrison Drive that’s been my go-to comfort food fix for years. The faded sign and simple storefront hide what might be the best fried shrimp and flounder in the state.
Walking in feels like stepping into someone’s kitchen—because essentially, that’s what it is! A handful of formica tables, a counter for ordering, and a kitchen where magic happens. The staff remembers regulars by name and order, a touch that keeps locals coming back.
My personal obsession? Their seafood platter with crispy, perfectly seasoned fish, shrimp, and devil crab served atop a mountain of fries. Everything comes in a paper bag, even if you’re eating in. No pretension, just deliciousness that’ll haunt your dreams.
3. Bertha’s Kitchen: Blue Building, Golden Reputation
That bright blue building in North Charleston houses culinary treasure that’s earned a James Beard Award—though you’d never guess it from the humble setting. Bertha’s Kitchen has been serving soul food since 1979, and I swear their okra soup could solve world peace.
My first visit happened during a rainstorm when I ducked in seeking shelter. What I found instead was a cafeteria-style line of locals patiently waiting for plates heaped with fried chicken, collard greens swimming in potlikker, and macaroni that redefines cheese.
The ladies behind the counter move with practiced efficiency, filling styrofoam containers with love disguised as food. The recipes haven’t changed since Mama Bertha herself ran the kitchen—why mess with perfection? Come hungry and bring cash; credit cards are as unwelcome as diet talk.
4. The Wreck Of The Richard & Charlene: Seafood With A View
Finding The Wreck feels like a treasure hunt—no sign, hidden down a residential street in Mount Pleasant, with only rumors of incredible seafood guiding your way. Named after a trawler that crashed here during Hurricane Hugo, this place wears its history proudly.
My GPS gave up trying to locate it, but locals pointed me toward an unmarked dirt parking lot. Inside the wooden building on stilts overlooking Shem Creek, plastic tablecloths and paper towels set the stage for seafood feasts caught just hours before.
The deviled crab makes me weak in the knees, while the fried shrimp rivals anything in fancier establishments. Sunset views over the water come free with every meal. Pro tip: bring a cooler of beer (they’re BYOB) and prepare for a wait—there are no reservations, just a line of knowing locals.
5. Martha Lou’s Kitchen: Pink Building, Golden Fried Chicken
The bright pink cinderblock building on Morrison Drive was my North Star whenever soul food cravings hit. Martha Lou Gadsden, who passed away in 2021 at 91, created a legacy that lives on through her family and that unforgettable fried chicken.
Walking into Martha Lou’s was like entering a time machine—mismatched chairs, family photos on wood-paneled walls, and the constant sound of chicken sizzling in cast iron. The lima beans alone were worth crossing state lines for, swimming in a broth so flavorful it deserved its own fan club.
Though the original location closed, the family continues Martha’s traditions at a new spot. The chicken recipe remains a closely guarded secret, but locals whisper it involves a buttermilk bath and seasoning mixed with prayers. Whatever the method, the result is crispy, juicy perfection that’s haunted my dreams for decades.
6. Harold’s Restaurant: Gaffney’s Country Cooking Institution
Truckers pointed me toward Harold’s when I was passing through Gaffney years ago—advice I’ve thanked them for ever since. This roadside spot near the famous Peachoid water tower has been serving country cooking since the 1950s without a hint of pretension.
The vinyl booths have seen better days, but nobody cares when plates of country ham with red-eye gravy hit the table. Harold’s opens at 5:30am for farmers and shift workers, serving biscuits that could make your grandma jealous. By lunchtime, the meat-and-three specials draw crowds from all walks of life.
What keeps me coming back whenever I’m within 50 miles? Their chicken fried steak smothered in pepper gravy and those melt-in-your-mouth yeast rolls. The waitresses call everyone “honey” regardless of age or status—a touch of Southern hospitality that feels increasingly rare these days.
7. Ike’s Korner Grille: Spartanburg’s Burger Paradise
Hidden on a corner in Spartanburg sits a cinderblock building that’s been flipping the juiciest burgers since 1960. My first bite of Ike’s pimento cheeseburger nearly brought tears to my eyes—it was that good!
The dive bar atmosphere completes the experience: neon beer signs, pool tables in the back, and a jukebox that’s probably older than most of the customers. Regulars pack the place at lunch, from suits to mechanics, all united by their love for these legendary patties.
Owner Neil “Ike” Eichelberger still uses the same grill and recipes from when his father opened the joint. Nothing fancy here—just hand-formed patties cooked to perfection and served on toasted buns with homemade chili as an optional (but essential) topping. Cash only, and don’t bother asking for substitutions unless you want eye rolls from the locals.
8. Pawleys Front Porch: Columbia’s Burger Oasis
Tucked away in Columbia’s Five Points neighborhood, Pawleys Front Porch looks like somebody converted their grandma’s house into a burger joint—which is exactly its charm! The wraparound porch filled with mismatched furniture had me at hello.
Featured on Diners, Drive-Ins and Dives, this spot somehow maintains its local vibe despite the fame. Each burger is named after a South Carolina beach town and topped with unexpected combinations that shouldn’t work but absolutely do. The Sullivan’s Island burger with pimento cheese and fried pickles changed my burger standards forever.
On summer evenings, the backyard transforms with string lights and live music while locals sip craft beers. The sweet potato fries dusted with cinnamon sugar provide the perfect sweet-savory balance to their savory burgers. Fair warning: napkins are essential—these beauties are gloriously messy!
9. Big T’s Bar-B-Que: Columbia’s Mustard-Based BBQ Legend
My introduction to South Carolina’s famed mustard-based barbecue happened at Big T’s, a cinderblock building on Garners Ferry Road that locals protect like a state secret. The smoky aroma hits you before you even park your car!
Inside, wood-paneled walls display faded photos and local sports memorabilia while the cafeteria line moves steadily. Big T’s has been family-owned since 1996, with recipes passed down through generations. Their hash and rice—a South Carolina specialty you rarely find outside the state—is worth the trip alone.
The pulled pork practically melts in your mouth, while that signature golden mustard sauce provides the perfect tangy kick. Sunday after church brings the biggest crowds, when families gather around tables for post-service feasts. My ritual includes sweet tea in a styrofoam cup and banana pudding that would make any grandmother proud.
10. Sweatman’s BBQ: Holly Hill’s Whole Hog Heaven
Making the pilgrimage to Sweatman’s BBQ in tiny Holly Hill feels like joining a secret society of barbecue aficionados. This white farmhouse only opens Friday and Saturday, creating a weekend ritual for those in the know.
My first visit happened after getting lost on back roads—divine intervention, I’m convinced. Inside, the all-you-can-eat buffet features whole hog barbecue cooked over wood coals for 12+ hours. The skin—or “cracklin'”—mixed into some of the pork provides textural contrast that still haunts my dreams.
Four generations of the Sweatman family have maintained their cooking methods since 1959. The mustard sauce recipe remains locked in the family vault, though I’ve attempted to recreate it countless times. Don’t skip the hash and rice or homemade banana pudding. The drive might seem long, but one bite confirms you’ve made the right decision.
11. Bowen’s Island Restaurant: Oyster Shack Extraordinaire
Following hand-painted signs down a dirt road toward marshland led me to Bowen’s Island Restaurant—a ramshackle building where oysters go to meet their delicious destiny. This James Beard Award-winning spot has been serving seafood since 1946, though you’d never guess its prestigious status from the graffiti-covered walls.
The downstairs oyster room is where the magic happens. Clusters of local oysters are steamed over open fires, then shoveled onto tables covered with newspaper. No plates needed—just grab, shuck, and savor with cocktail sauce and cold beer.
Upstairs offers stunning marsh views and a slightly more traditional dining experience. The Frogmore stew (local version of a seafood boil) bursts with fresh shrimp, sausage, corn, and potatoes. Time your visit for sunset, when the marsh glows golden and dolphins sometimes swim by, creating dinner theater courtesy of Mother Nature herself.