HUNGRY GERALD

Dinner at Guppy’s On The Beach Seafood Grill (in the Indian Rocks neighborhood of St. Pete Beach) was an up and down (mostly down) experience. Guppy’s is a large, popular restaurant with outdoor and indoor seating. HG chose indoor (an error). Seated in a bleak air conditioning chilled room. Historic photos on the wall of historic Indian Rocks bathing beauties (in one piece suits) was a nice touch. Ordered a pitcher of sangria. Eeks, horrors!! The restaurant tampered with the classic recipe and added loads of cinnamon (also some cloves). Smelled like a men’s room deodorant with overtones of potpourri in a New England tourist gift shop. Undrinkable. Replaced the witches brew with cold Stella Artois beer. After a lengthy wait HG and SJ were served bowls of hot and spicy fish chowder. Caribbean tastes. Heartening. Twenty minute wait. A bowl of plump, tasty Prince Edward Island mussels in a broth enhanced by tomatoes, greens and garlic finally arrived. Light at the end of a tunnel. Mood became optimistic. A 25 minute wait quenched the happy mood. HG rose to complain. Waitperson said she’d inform management. Rest of the meal arrived in a rush. Strange food. The dishes were over elaborate with too many ingredients on each plate. Festoons of shaved carrots. Slivers of olives. Sauces that did not enhance. Truffled mashed potatoes that tasted chemical. Fried green tomatoes and fried oysters destroyed by heavy breading. Broiled octopus (tender and good quality) that were savory after all the redundant sauce was scraped away. “Lobstercargot” failed. This was a dish served in a traditional escargot plate, little chunks of lobster in a traditional garlic and butter sauce. Something went wrong. Cheese (possibly cream) was added to the sauce. Glop. At end of the meal, very personable manager appeared and removed sangria and chowders from the bill. Apologized for the delays. Consolation for the bad meal was the very modest expense.

For the last days of HG/BSK/SJ and family’s Florida sun and sea extravaganza the restaurant of choice has been Keegan’s Seafood Grille in the Indian Rocks neighborhood of St. Petersburg’s Gulf Coast. This super casual place is perfect after a beach day. The atmosphere is laid back and joyous. The smiling waitpersons seem glad to see you. However, there’s nothing careless or slipshod about the food. Doing simple things perfectly takes discipline, And, Keegan’s got a disciplined kitchen staff. Oysters arrive perfectly chilled and perfectly shucked (these are the best Gulf oysters HG has ever encountered). “U-Peel-Um” shrimp arrive warm, firm and bursting with flavor, ready for a bath in melted butter enlivened with hot sauce. Grilled or blackened Grouper and Amberjack taste fresh from the sea. There’s succulent, tender octopus (a signature dish). The octopus is steeped in olive oil and garlic, “charbroiled” and finished on “a hot lava stone.” Some outstanding conch dishes: conch salad, cracked conch, conch fritters. An innovative snack of deep fried Jalapeño peppers stuffed with cream cheese and crab. A Greek influenced dish of shrimp, feta cheese and hot peppers served in a terrine. Fried soft shell crab sandwiches. Gumbo (HG found it equal to N’Awlins’ best). Georgia low country She Crab soup. Oyster stew. There’s very good India Pale Ale on tap (no hard liquor is served, alas). Low prices. High spirits. Honest food. Keegan’s got it all.

HG is rapidly becoming the color of an antique mahogany chest. Ah, that St. Petersburg sun. HG/BSK’s grandson, Handsome Haru, is now a shade of appetizing butterscotch. Adorable granddaughter Teru is bossing everyone around and responding to compliments on her unique cuteness with maidenly reserve. Yes, everyone is having a good time. Today’s big meal of the day is at Pepo’s Cuban Cafe. The casual eatery is reminiscent of the Cuban restaurants HG enjoyed when doing business with real estate clients in the Washington Heights section of Manhattan. (This was where the first wave of Cuban emigres settled in New York City. Their New Jersey choice was Union City). Pepo’s menu features all of the classics—Cubanos (pressed ham, pickle, roast pork and cheese sandwiches); Picadillo, Ropa Vieja, Plantains–and, of course, black beans with white rice or saffron rice. A highlight of the menu is Pernil, slow roasted pork. Pepo’s calls the dish “The Original Pork.” That’s what HG ordered. A big bowl of shredded pork doused with flavorful juices from the roasting pan. The accompanying dish was a platter of saffron rice and black beans. Two salsas–red and green. Every element was perfect. Fluffy rice. Perfectly done beans bursting with a cuminy kick. Pork that captured the gusto of the tropics. And, the portions were super generous. SJ ordered the same dish while everyone else knocked off giant Cubanos. HG drank icy Yerba Mate soda (a sort of Cuban version of Cel-Ray Tonic). HG/BSK are hopeful the thaw in USA-Cuba relations will allow them to soon eat Cuban food in Havana.

More sun. More sea. More fun. And, a nice surprise. Beautiful Zena B. has accompanied SJ and family. (The lovely lass doesn’t swim but sunbathes and hot tubs). Ram Sea, the condo/resort BSK selected, is comfy, convenient and friendly. Not to be mistaken for Palm Beach or the Riviera. Unchic. Caters to families from the South, midwest and Canada. Lots of kids and teens and college-agers. These teenagers and collegians are not the Spring Break cliche of wet-T-shirt-contest-having, beer swilling, vomiting-on-the-beach barbarians; rather, they seem to be busy all day flirting, joking, playing volleyball, kayaking, paddle boarding, throwing footballs, etc. BSK remarked on how beautiful and fit the young women looked — lean and athletic. These are young women who exercise and play soccer, tennis, volleyball, basketball, etc. The girls of HG’s generation (and possibly BSK’s) seemed forced into the role of beach bunnies whose principal activity was nurturing a tan. Our fellow vacationers at Ram Sea are a kind, courteous and helpful group of folks. When HG tripped leaving the sea (nothing serious), a half dozen young people and a group of oldsters raced to his rescue. Sun, swimming and sunset drinks on the terrace created raging hunger. HG, BSK, etc., abandoned seafood and drove to Pho Kien Kang, a Vietnamese restaurant. Egg rolls; big, steaming bowls of pho with sliced beef; grilled pork on “broken rice.” HG mused how immigrants have improved American restaurant cuisine. There are now few American cities where one can’t get a big bowl of good pho. Hopefully, when the Mideast madness simmers down, we’ll get a deluge of good Syrian and Iraqui eateries.