SO and I were in Miami to visit his mother. A few culinary high- and
lowlights follow.

Our first night there SO's mom took us to a very old-school continental
restaurant called La Paloma. The ambience was very 1950's--heavy
draperies, assorted tchotchkes, and very dark. SO and I were about the
youngest diners there. The menu was heavy on the cream sauce. Even the
veggies came slathered with buttered crumbs.

Then followed two nights in Key West. Mangrove Mama (home of the
state-of-the-art key lime pie) was closed, alas. On the way down we
stopped at the Islamorada Fish Co. A decent meal, although the conch
chowder was not up to our standards. We stayed at the Merlin Guesthouse
two blocks from Duval St. We had a nice little cottage with a separate
bedroom for the mom and a sleeper sofa for us. It also had kitchen
facilities, which we didn't use. The person at the front desk got us
reservations the first night at a restaurant called Seven Fish, which is
supposedly one of the best places in South Florida (if you believe
Zagat). The food was excellent. The three of us split a bottle of
wine. Needless to say, the wheelchair was weaving all over what little
sidewalk there was on the way back to the guesthouse.

We had lunch the next day at the Pier House restaurant, which supposedly
had good red conch chowder. No mas--they only had white (cream-based)
chowder. What we did get was overpriced and underwhelming, which we
expected from a previous visit. Our table supposedly overlooked a
topless beach. All of those going topless were male, and they shouldn't
have done so. (Beer bellies and hairy backs do not do much for one's
digestion.) Dinner that night was at Blue Heaven, a funky little place
that has outdoor dining complete with chickens and cats. The critters
were reasonably well behaved. The food was good, but our waiter was a
bit on the spacy side.

Seattle is woefully deficient in deli food, so we needed to get our fix
while down there. We got takeout at Rascal House, then had lunch two
days later at a little place on Biscayne Blvd. called New York's Big
Apple Deli. I got my fill of pastrami and whitefish salad (at different
places, not simulataneously), SO and mom opted for chopped liver.

We came home yesterday, but not without a little drama. When we dropped
the rental car at an off-airport location in the wee hours of the
morning, we just missed a smash and grab robbery of a Japanese family
who were doing the same. SO called 911 and I stayed hunkered down in
the rental car until the taxi came to take us to the airport. So when
the cheery customer service person called us before 7 am today to ask
how our rental experience was, I told him in no uncertain terms that
they needed better security at that location.

Dinner last night was simple, due to serious jet lag: spaghetti with
Canale's sauce (straight from Oswego NY, courtesy of my mother) and
frozen snap peas.

Cindy, awakened at 4:30 this morning by feline with affection-deficit
disorder

--
C.J. Fuller

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