Some notes on restaurants, four months into The Adventure:
Bobalu's (MM10): Let's get this out of the way: Bobalu's is the kind of restaurant that outright ruins a whole geographic location for me. Island has 2,918 places to eat, and every time we go out, my first impulse is to say "Oo, Bobalu's! Let's go there!" A second dilemma presents when looking at the menu: Everything I've had is equally appealing. Usual finalists: Pizza, turkey pot pie, fried chicken, and "famous" stuffed shrimp. The sides are mostly southern-style vegetables, and, with the exception of french fries, all worthwhile. I have a particularly high opinion of the fried corn. I would drive to Bobalu's on a regular basis if I lived in Key Largo, ninety miles to the north.
To cap this shameless slurping of the southern kitchen, I must reveal that, upon hearing I was writing up some restaurant reviews, a girl I know immediately replied "Make sure you mention the fudgy pecan cream pie thing at Bobalu's."
Turtle Kraals: This seaport bar/restaurant is mostly known to me as a place that has NFL Sunday Ticket without an accompanying NFL Sunday Loud Drunk Crowd. They have passable wings. And some raw-bar specials during NFL Sundays. And an accommodating bar staff, who did not threaten a friend of mine when he ordered an an eleven-ingredient ice cream drink. And NFL Sunday Ticket on multiple TVs. And a seared tuna salad that I enjoyed. Can you tell my focus wasn't exactly on food there? I was told they have famous "Turtle Races," but the tiny thoroughbreds do not run on Sunday. Oh, but Turtle Kraals does have -- did I mention this already? -- NFL Sunday Ticket.
The Half Shell Raw Bar: Across from Turtle Kraals. The Good: The raw-bar seafood quality is top-drawer. The Bad: Soggy fries. (This is a recurring theme in Key West.) The Ugly: The fish po-boys come with cheese. The Verdict: Stick to what they know, and you will like the Half Shell.
Fishcutter's (MM25): The BLT (Bacon, lobster, tomato) made a friend of mine flush and swoon. The conch fritters are exemplary, as is the dipping sauce, which is something to which attention is not normally paid. Speaking of which, sandwiches come with homemade potato chips and mango cole slaw, both of which will make you very, very happy. The sole complaint with Fishcutter’s: Grocery-store-brand po-boy rolls. Y'all should be above lousy buns, Fishcutter’s. You're so close to superstardom.
The pizzeria in the Overseas Market, the name of which escapes me: Pretty decent New York-style thin crust pizza. Some creative pies; shrimp & scallops, fettuccine alfredo, shrimp & bacon, pineapple & ham, etc. The absolute breakout stars of this place, however, are the tiny rolls they call "Garlic Knots". Little twists of dough, baked and coated with a garlic-oil topping, are, once salted, damn near to a savory version of just-off-the-belt Krispy Kremes in addictive potential.
El Maison de Pepe: Bread arrives on the table with red and green salsas. The green is so good, it inspired a Google search upon arriving home. Because I am an inflexible gringo asshole, though, I cannot get my mind around the idea of bread and salsa, instead of chips and salsa. But everything else was good. But both times I was there were right after Wilma, so I'm hazy.
Chico's Cantina: Knows how to do chips and salsa. And everything else. The menu seems pedestrian on first read-through, but don't bother with the menu - look to the "Daily Specials" whiteboard. It's always better. (And get double refried beans. Wow, are they good. Hope you're not here on your honeymoon. But if you are, what are you doing in a Mexican restaurant?)
Blue Heaven: The only people I've met who aren't crazy about breakfast at the Blue Heaven are the types -- both locals and tourists -- who I think of as "the Live-To-Bitch crowd". What else you want to know?
The Winn-Dixie: has cafe con leche for 99 cents at the pastry counter, which is muy f------ bueno when your office is right around the corner and you work fifteen-hour days. Tip the lady. Tell her the fat gringo with the horrendous Spanish says "Hola".
Monty's Raw Bar: The best Happy Hour bar I've found on Key West so far, and it's a raw bar. The HH prices are something like "Half-price drinks, 2-for $5 stone crab claws and 3-for-either-$2-or-$3 shrimp, clams, and oysters." Go get two drinks and a big platter of shellfish for two and spend less than $25. There's a pool, but I have yet to have enough half-price drinks to try to integrate the pool into Happy Hour. Yet.
Pizza Hut: No, it's not "Key West". But it is Pizza Hut, and sometimes you want the familiar. Especially if you're me. Everyone has one guilty-pleasure fast food love, and mine is the Pizza Hut pepperoni-lover's pan pizza. Go ahead -- take my foodie card. But when you do, go to Popeye's Fried Chicken and get Emeril's, and pry Jeffrey Steingarten's away from him by distracting him with Milky Ways.
The Waterfront Market: Not technically a restaurant, but I had to throw them a plug, because until I found this place, I thought I was going to have to have ingredient-packages airlifted in from Fox & Obel's. God bless the Waterfront Market.
The sushi counter at Albertson's: Warrants mentioning for the cheerfulness and speed with which they assemble special requests, instead of nodding at the display case and saying "If it's not in there, try tomorrow." Yes, it's grocery-store sushi. But they try. And as it is with gym class and potty training, so it is with sushi: Trying counts for a lot.
Croissants de France: Good croissants. On a tropical island. I wouldn't be complaining, even if this place sucked, which it emphatically does not. Merci pour les breakfast pastries sur l'ile, mes amis.
The hot dog cart next to Sloppy Joe's: During Fantasy Fest, I had a passably warm Polish Sausage in a good-quality bun. I think. Anyhow, the cart smells fabulous from 100 yards. Recommended for late-late-late night absorption of alcohol.
2-for-$20 Pizza (Big Pine Key and vicinity): Mediocre pizza, unless you're a fan of big, soft, cottony crust and nursing-home-bland toppings. However. When I call them, which I do, oh, once a week, I just ask for a triple order of "garlic cheese sticks" with marinara dipping sauce. As best I can tell: Bare pizza crust, cheese, Italian seasonings, and garlic, baked crispy. When I worked for Little Caesar's, way back in the money-for-beer days, I used to make something similar nightly -- and Little C had the same pizza problems as 2-for does. Convergent solutions to isolated congruent stressors are proof of natural selection.
The Duval Beach Club: The food is basic Key West food -- grouper sandwich, salads, burgers, chicken fingers, conch fritters, cocktail specials, etc. But the restaurant opens right onto the beach, and a couple years ago, I sat there with my girlfriend, and we ate lunch, and watched three pelicans diving in formation, and watched the boats, and people-watched, and ended the discussion with "Let's move here."
So the Duval Beach Club has that going for it.
Which is nice.
