The Enduring Caro-Mi Cole Slaw Mystery
Published 12:26 pm Monday, June 29, 2015
![When you step inside, you’ll be surrounded by wood: tables, chairs, walls, and floors. The walls are covered in college pennants, framed articles and photos. At least one Stafford will greet you with the utmost sincerity. You’ll be escorted to a table with a checkered cloth, and before you can say “sweet tea, please,” the waitress will sit small dishes of cole slaw and macaroni salad on your table. (Photo by Steve Wong)](https://www.tryondailybulletin.com/wp-content/uploads/sites/23/2015/06/CaroMiDSC_0060.jpg)
When you step inside Caro-Mi, you’ll be surrounded by wood: tables, chairs, walls, and floors. The walls are covered in college pennants, framed articles and photos. At least one Stafford will greet you with the utmost sincerity. You’ll be escorted to a table with a checkered cloth, and before you can say “sweet tea, please,” the waitress will sit small dishes of cole slaw and macaroni salad on your table. (Photo by Steve Wong)
By Steve Wong
Life In Our Foothills, July 2015
The first time I ever had Caro-Mi cole slaw was more than 25 years ago, and after eating three bowls of it (not counting the one my wife had), I finally stopped long enough to actually take a serious look at this addictive “salad.”
All I could see was thinly shredded cabbage, marinating in a clear oil and vinegar liquid. No spices or pepper flakes. No pickles. No carrot. Just cabbage.
Strange, I thought and thought many more times over the years as I became a regular customer at this little throw-back restaurant sitting by the side of the road in the Pacolet Valley between Tryon and Saluda.
Why is this cole slaw so good? Why do the waitresses bring it out without asking, along with little bowls of darn-good macaroni salad? The only tastes I could discern were cabbage and vinegar, but there was something else – a twang — that made the slaw addictive and make me feel rather piggish for always saying “Yes, please” when the waitress would ask if I wanted more. I wanted more, lots more.
And I wanted the recipe.
But, no, I could not have the recipe. It was a secret, I was told ever so politely.
Little did I know then, I was only the millionth diner to ask for the recipe, and none of us would ever, ever get it — unless we bought the restaurant. You see, the ownership of Caro-Mi Dining Room and the cole slaw recipe are forever and contractually tied together. Today, only four people know the true recipe, and all of them are members of the Stafford family. They are Charles and Annette, their son Dane, and his wife Stacey. The cole slaw duties have now been passed on to the younger generation, and Dane, 44, chops the cabbage and Stacey, 39, makes the “dressing.”
Each week, he spends about three hours chopping three (sometimes four) boxes of 1.8 bushels of cabbage each. It takes Stacey about an hour to make the dressing. Then it needs to marinate for at least three or four days before serving, and no, despite rumors to the contrary, they don’t bury it in a pottery crock in the back yard.
But foodies don’t often take “no” for an answer very well. If the restaurant’s owners won’t give it up, well, we’ll just figure it out for ourselves. After all, how hard can it be? It’s just cole slaw: cabbage, vinegar, oil, and whatever secret ingredients that aren’t being divulged. It can’t be that hard to taste test and methodically deduce what the secret ingredient or ingredients might be. Can it?
As scores of people have tired, it’s a lot harder – if not down right impossible — than you might think. You might think you’ve got it figured out, but you’ll never really know, unless you buy the restaurant.
For more than 50 years, Beverly Mabry, 79, has been trying to figure out how to duplicate Caro-Mi’s secret cole slaw recipe, and she thinks she has finally got it.
“This is close as I am ever going to get,” she said standing in her kitchen in her nice brick home in the Cannons Campground area on the east side of Spartanburg. “The key is Lawry’s Garlic Salt with parsley,” she said, noting that was an ingredient she added in more recent years.
Mrs. Mabry is a native of Spartanburg and retired from a career as a children’s daycare owner and director. In thinking back how long she’s been a customer at Caro-Mi, she said it has been at least before the restaurant was bought by the Staffords.
“I had just about wore her down for the recipe when she sold it,” Mrs. Mabry said about the previous owner. Since then, “you would not believe how many concoctions I’ve tried… dozens and dozens. I ground my own cabbage. I let it sit in the refrigerator for several days. I even bought a crock to store it in. I’ve tried everything. The one I have now is the closest I’ve ever had.”
Triumphantly, Mrs. Mabry’s attempt at the slaw has become a family favorite. “They all love it,” she said. “It’s great on hot dogs. I take it to church, and they all love it. Once in a while I get it too sour, and my husband complains. He’s my number one critic.”
Her husband Jack is an ordained and retired Southern Baptist minister of music. “Jack says he wouldn’t turn around for the difference” between her version and the real McCoy.
The extended Mabry family eats at Caro-Mi four or five times a year and consider the Staffords to be friends.
“They are so nice. We walk in they say, ‘where have y’all been?’” Mrs. Mabry prefers the country ham; her husband prefers the trout. They both love the slaw and the macaroni salad.
Like many others, Mrs. Mabry has asked for the recipe, and like everyone else, she has been politely turned down. “They say it’s a trade secret. They say, it is just something they don’t give out.”
Over the years, she and her friends and family have pondered the ways and means to make the slaw countless times. And even though she believes she has decoded it as best as it will ever be, she admits — like most people — there is something special about eating the slaw in its natural environment.
“It’s never the same when you take it home with you,” she concluded. “I think it is where you eat it, the people, the table cloths, the napkins all the things that they do that it special.”
Charles, 71, can’t help but laugh a little bit when someone tells him they have figured out the recipe. Throughout the years, people have published their attempts in local church and civic cookbooks, always noting their recipe is the one for Caro-Mi cole slaw. The slaw’s notoriety has gone digital, and a recipe for it can be found on TasteBook.com, posted by “Hannah” in Philadelphia.
None has ever gotten it right. “Actually we had a lady from Greer who brought some in that she had made,” Charles recalled. “That was unusual, but it was not even close. We feel good and we’re glad that it hasn’t ever been duplicated.”
What he will reveal is that “It’s 90 percent work and five percent secret. It’s a lot of work.”
The cole slaw has been on Caro-Mi’s limited menu since 1945, when it was first opened by the Mahafey family of Miami, Fla.—hence the name Caro-Mi, a combination of Carolina and Miami.
Since then, it has had two other owners, the Staffords acquiring it in 1990.
The meals are served family style, in that everyone gets green beans, stewed apples, and biscuits. There are eight entrees, the most-sought-after are the North Carolina-cured and hand-cut fried country ham with red-eye gravy and grits, mountain rainbow trout (deboned table-side), fried chicken, and sauteed chicken livers. They don’t serve alcohol, but you can brown bag it. The restaurant is open year-round, Wednesday, Thursday and Friday from 5-8 p.m., and Saturday, 4:30-8 p.m. Bring cash or your checkbook. They don’t do plastic.
Brenda Houston, a native of Mill Spring, N.C. and now a resident of Inman, S.C., is very familiar with the Caro-Mi’s cole slaw mystery.
“Just about everyone who has eaten there would discuss it,” she said. “My mother, her friends, co-workers, my sister, and I have all discussed it. We always heard they (the owners) would not give out the recipe, it was closely guarded. It just had a unique taste that you couldn’t quite put your finger on. I don’t know if it was just a rumor, but we heard some years back Caro-Mi was sold and the new owners had to pay $10,000 for the slaw recipe. Could’ve been an urban legend like the Neiman Marcus chocolate chip cookie recipe story from years back.”
Like many other people, Brenda has spent many hours in her kitchen, trying to find the right combination of ingredients and the right process.
“I would try different spices, vinegar and oil. I get frustrated if I can’t get it right, but I came close enough for our taste after four or five times,” she said.
Today, Brenda is an executive assistant at Mary Black Hospital in Spartanburg. And because she has taken up competitive bodybuilding, Caro-Mi has not been on her restrictive diet of late. “I think we went last time with friends around 2010,” she said. “We heard the cook that knew the recipe went to the Drake House in Landrum, so we tried it several times. The slaw was good, but not sure it had the Caro-Mi taste.”
Like Mrs. Mabry, Brenda isn’t entirely sure the secret to the cole slaw is in the ingredients or the process. Caro-Mi does sell the slaw for takeout at $4 per pound. When considering if the restaurant’s atmosphere, service, and reputation might all play into the slaw’s appeal, Brenda said, “I don’t know, I have never taken any home, but everything to me is better eaten in the restaurant. Eating out is one of our favorite pastimes.”
In one hungry man’s opinion, there is only one way to truly enjoy Caro-Mi’s cole slaw. After a busy week at work, when you are too tired to cook, head into the Pacolet Valley, driving slowly to enjoy the scenery, to cool down, and to anticipate what’s ahead. You’ll see the twinkling white lights, the weatherworn sign, and the crowd of sedans parked out front.
To get the restaurant you’ll have to cross an old wooden bridge. As you approach, folks will be sitting on the front porch in rockers, staring at the rushing creek or conversing among themselves, waiting for their name to be called. When you step inside, you’ll be surrounded by wood: tables, chairs, walls, and floors. The walls are covered in college pennants, framed articles and photos. At least one Stafford will greet you with the utmost sincerity. You’ll be escorted to a table with a checkered cloth, and before you can say “sweet tea, please,” the waitress will sit small dishes of cole slaw and macaroni salad on your table.
Dig in, and she’ll bring you some more and more until you’ll too embarrassed to agree to another helping. After dinner (get the country ham), when you insist on taking that last little bit of slaw home with you, you’ll carry it out in a plastic bag.
Tomorrow, you’ll want that snack in your own kitchen. The leftover cole slaw might look the same, but something will be different, just not right in the harsh light of day.
Something will be missing.
It will be mystery. •
Mrs. Mabry’s Caro-Mi Cole Slaw Recipe
1 lb. of finely chopped cabbage
4 tbsp. of Lawry’s Garlic Salt
1 tsp. of Nature’s Seasons (seasoning blend)
¼ cup of olive oil
½ cup white vinegar
½ cup water
1 small pack of Splenda (don’t make it too sweet)
Brenda Houston’s Mock Caro-Mi Slaw Recipe
3 garlic cloves, crushed or minced
3-4 tbsp. white cider vinegar
6 tbsp. vegetable oil
1 tsp. salt (or to taste)
1 tsp. white pepper (or to taste)
1 tsp. celery powder
½ head of green cabbage, use food processor blade to shred
(“I am sure there IS a secret that I don’t know about.”)
Refrigerate for a few hours (or overnight) to let flavors blend. This will keep for up to a week in the refrigerator.