I went grocery shopping yesterday…. and while I usually just buy what I want regardless of the cost, gazing down at the pot roast in my hand made me audibly gasp.
.
.
A quite small, unimpressive rump roast had a $36 price tag… and damned if I didn’t leave it right there.
May I just say, what the utter f*ck?
I paid $17 for a pound of 80/20 hamburger and almost fainted when I saw this…
.
.
Yes, it’s a rib roast. But so small I doubt you’d get 4 good slices. And while I used to cook them quite often… if I’m paying $25 per plate? I’ll go out to a restaurant, let someone else cook it and be served thank you very much.
Beef prices are certifiably insane right now.
And if you think it’s any better in the seafood department, think again.
.
.
Picked lobster meat is $53 a pound. Throw in a little mayonnaise and it’s $60.
And this time we picked Sebasco Resort in Phippsburg.
There are two restaurants on site, but unfortunately the nicer one with the full menu was closed due to Covid era short staffing.
.
.
So we made do with The Ledges pub.
.
.
The outdoor patio area was filled with tourists so we had to sit inside… but the views were just as nice.
.
.
As were the cocktails. Two basil refreshers later, it was time to order.
.
.
We both started with the clam chowder which was good, but I’m a Mainer and quite picky about giving two thumbs up to chowder.
.
.
Husband had a perfectly prepared baked haddock with white wine and butter…
.
.
But my fried scallops were less than satisfactory. The batter was thick and way too crunchy… and Holy Hell, dripping in enough grease to lube two cars and a pick up truck. Blech.
.
.
If I’d been able to open the window I would have fed them to this fellow.
.
.
Thankfully the pub redeemed itself with a nice wild Maine blueberry pie a la mode.
.
.
After our meal we attempted to walk off the pounds.
And though I would have loved to stop and snap some photos, the husband was hungry… so you’ll have to make do with a few quick shots from the car.
.
.
Here’s the famous Cribstone Bridge.
.
.
And as you’ve probably guessed, lobster reigns supreme.
.
.
This was our destination, Cooks Lobster and Ale House.
.
.
A local landmark built in 1955 on a long spit of land with panoramic water views. Popular with locals and tourists alike (although we locals don’t appreciate the tourist prices) it’s a no fuss, traditionally rustic waterfront restaurant.
.
.
But what it lacks in decor? It makes up in scenic vistas. The view from our table was pretty sweet.
.
.
The cocktails are potent.
.
.
And two Cosmopolitans were all I could handle if I wanted to remain upright.
.
.
Pardon the fuzzy pic, it was taken through a screen.
.
.
The food is simple but delicious. Caesar salad (with the most amazing homemade herb butter croutons evah!) for me, a tasty French onion soup for my other half.
.
.
Perfectly cooked lightly battered fried sea scallops for me….
.
.
And lazy lobster for my rat bastard husband who ate it in front of me without feeling the least bit guilty. (I came up allergic 7 years ago and can no longer consume the delicious crustaceans without becoming seriously ill. 😩)
.
.
Dessert? Of course it was blueberry pie. And as we waddled out to the car… we stopped for a moment to take in the beauty.
.
.
And realized the husband might have backed up a bit too far upon arrival.
Going out for a seafood dinner certainly has changed in recent months.
Gone are the charming restaurants with lovely oceanfront views. Gone are the meticulously crafted cocktails and professional wait staff.
These days?
It’s a long line of cars idling at the curb waiting to cue up to a traveling roach coach.
While this would normally not be the least bit appealing, I was quite sick of cooking last week and one of the husband’s friends swore this seafood was good, plentiful and reasonably priced.
From the size of the crowds you’d think the circus had come to town.
People be desperate.
We waited 20 minutes in the car parade, 10 minutes for a girl to take our order, and another 20 minutes for the food.
50 minutes without a martini?
Is not my idea of dinner out.
To say I should have known it would be bad is trite…. but oh, so true.
For slightly over $30?
I received 2 absolutely disgusting and totally inedible crab cakes…. while the husband frantically tried to find a section of fish in the foot thick batter.
Disappointing doesn’t begin to describe that rancid grease drenched mess.
This is for all the people who scream about food pictures. An entire blog devoted to a meal.
Though I’m not a fan of oysters….
The York River Oyster Company in Gloucester Point, Virginia seemed like a great spot for dinner.
So we strolled around the marina checking out the boats before heading inside.
It was a little too cold for outdoor seating in December.
So we picked a table with a view.
With a pole right in the middle to ruin any pictures I might want to share.
Yay us.
I started with an Orange Crush which seems to be a very popular cocktail lately.
And then cringed at the thought of anyone wanting red wine in their Mule.
We started with an appetizer order of simply superb steamed shrimp.
They were perfectly cooked and seasoned and just melted in our mouths.
Cocktail number 2?
An Afternoon Delight.
And I dare you not to have that song stuck in your head all day.
Dinner for me was a crab cake and fried shrimp. The most I can say about them is they were decent. The crab cake could have had more crab and the shrimp were a bit overdone. Which was a shame because the flavor was there.
I don’t know what the husband was thinking with this abomination.
A burger topped with bacon and pulled pork…. for those days when your arteries just feel too clear.
He picked it apart and ate everything separately which probably defeats the purpose, but said it was good.
Dessert was a nice tart Key Lime Pie. Don’t give me those sugary sweet versions. When I order Key Lime? I want my lips to pucker.
Yes, like that.
Night descended while we ate.
And while I’d give the restaurant a solid B minus ……
Our 5th day had us meeting the ex wife of an old Marine Corps buddy. There’s a long sordid story that goes along with this statement, but suffice it to say you never really know anyone. Honestly, you don’t.
The man we’d been friends with for over 35 years? The one we thought was honest, trustworthy and stable? Is now on his third wife, estranged from his children, drowning in debt, filing bankruptcy for the second time (while working as an accountant for the Federal Government) and being sued by his own lawyer for fraud. Did I mention he lies like a rug and told wife #2 that wife #1 accused him of having an affair with me?
I mean come on.
I know I like to drink…. but I think I would have remembered that!!
Needless to say it was a verrrrry long lunch.
But I’d never been to Virginia Beach before so we took a little scenic drive before heading to the restaurant.
My first impression?
Busy and crowded.
With the typical big city high rise hotels lining the road near the ocean.
Complete with all that ticky tacky crap I hate, designed to suck your wallet dry.
In other words, it’s similar to Atlantic City, Myrtle Beach and numerous other places we’ve visited along the Florida coast.
No thanks. You’ve seen one you’ve seen ’em all.
Even this gang of tropical fish escaping the surf and heading for the highway didn’t make it more appealing.
We drove down a few side streets to check out the houses near the shore…
Which was nerve wracking in that behemoth of a vehicle the husband had rented.
Seriously, it took up the entire street.
We found a few pretty spots, but overall? Being jammed right up next to your neighbor is not where I want to live…. waterfront or not.
So, lunch.
Was at a place called Rockafeller’s right on the water.
We got there early.
Okay, really early.
But at least we didn’t have to wait for a table with a view.
I have to admit I got a kick out of the illustrated cocktail menu.
I’m guessing this is for when you’ve had too many and can no longer enunciate properly.
If you can smile and point?
You’re not too drunk to serve.
This is the Mojito, which shouldn’t have been yellow but was tasty all the same.
One drink in, we spotted some fishermen bringing in their catch.
It doesn’t get much fresher than that.
Two drinks in, our friend arrived and we talked, and talked, and talked.
Or rather, she talked and we did a lot of listening.
And drinking.
Did I mention there were multiple pages of cocktail lists?
Maybe Virginia Beach isn’t so bad after all.
3 hours in we figured we’d better eat.
Crab and shrimp hushpuppies sounded like a good way to start…
They were huge, not at all like hush puppies and absolutely horrible.
Flavorless wads of fried dough. If there was shrimp or crab? I never found it. The husband had an equally bad platter of steamed shrimp. Which is hard to screw up, but they did, so I went the safe route…
And ordered a chicken Caesar salad…. which turned out to be practically chickenless.
I imagine even the mosiac Santa dolphin out front would have tasted better. But it was a good time and nice to see our friend.
So we left Virginia Beach…
And headed back to Williamsburg…
Wondering who Willoughby was and why he was spitting.
First stop? A decent place for dinner.
And proof that you can’t judge a book by it’s cover.
Tucked in the back of a very ordinary looking strip mall was a wonderful little Italian place…. that I can’t remember the name of to save my life.
But the garlic knots were to die for… light as air.
And my cheese tortellini alfredo with chicken, broccoli and sun dried tomatoes?
Ooh la la! So rich I had to take half back to the resort.
(I hope this quiets you food screamers. Two meals in one post. Now hush!)
River's world..... 