Beach Burger Plus One

On Saturday, we drove with the top down all the way up to the lighthouse in Point Reyes.  It was glorious - sunny and breezy at the same time - as we drove through the rolling hills on Lucas Valley Road, the sudden redwoods, and finally, the ocean all around us.  Our destination was a little spot called Drake's Beach Cafe that I heard about on Weekend Sherpa.  Drake's beach was cool and required layers, and of course the family dog, Monty, was not allowed.  We were reminded of this by the adorable red-headed ranger, no more than 22 years old, who approached us as soon as we were out of the car.  No big deal.  We would just have our lunch and then find another spot where Monty could happily retrieve his greenish yellow ball.

Lunch was a difficult decision for me.  Jodacious ordered a burger.  Easy peasy.  Longing for the burger, but not sure I want to go down the red meat road, I wavered between grilled cheese and fish and chips.  It was the beach!  The fish and chips seemed imperative.  But it was cold!  A grilled cheese with soup seemed comforting.  Then I saw the cook breading the fish right in front of me.  So, fish and chips it was.  Jodacious said, "What's fish and chips?"  Oh, dear.  I better get him to Hull, stat.

We sat outside on a wooden deck facing the ocean and shared a root beer.  Monty, of course, attracted just the right amount of attention.  When lunch arrived, I was pretty hungry.   But here's the thing about fish and chips:  I don't like it that much.  It's too much fried, fried, fried.  And fried food must be consumed instantly, while it's still very hot.  And there's something about the frying that changes the flavor of the fish, and not necessarily for the better.  All conflicting feelings aside, I dug into the fish. It was too hot, and I burned my tongue.  The fries were not crispy enough, very thin, and even a little soggy.  A few fries into the meal, I abandoned them.  The fish was flaky, but the flavor was off, and the batter was too thick in places.  After two pieces of fish, I felt overwhelmed and done.  I must admit, Jodacious loved his burger, and I was jealous.

The great thing about the beach is that even if your meal stinks, you've still got the OCEAN.  So, we hopped back into the car and drove a little way to South Beach where the water was a clear sea-foam green even as the waves crashed, Monty ran after a ball, dug an amazing hole, and we sat in the sun, as happy as clams.