MY QUEST FOR FISH TACOS, PART 2: “Returning to our ‘Favorite Willie'”

Friday, June 16

Last Friday, I posted about a  seafood grill Jeff and I discovered: Redfish Willie’s Waterfront Grill. As if we thought our food could taste any more delicious than it already did,  the nice chefs there took our tastebuds above the clouds.

“Hey, y’all! Glad to see you, again!” said Jade, the ‘welcome host’ at the entrance.

“We told you we’d be back,” I said, hugging her. “And here we are.”

After Jade seated us at the same table as last time, she returned to her post, and Debbie took over, bringing our menus. She, also, had a hug for each of us.

“So, what kind of drinks can I bring you, this time?”

“Ummmm…I’ll have the same kind of beer I had last time,” Jeff said. “Whatever that was.”

“That would be the Redfish,” Debbie said, noting it on the order.

“And what can I bring  you, this time?” she asked me.

“A ‘Rum Runner’ sounds intriguing,” I said. “What’s in it?”

“Bacardi rum with different kinds of fruit juices. And it’s frozen.”

“And that peach drink?”

“Captain Morgan rum, peach schnapps, and fruit juice.”

Schnapps, I mused, remembering the Christmas Eve dinner in Sweden that I enjoyed with my son, Tam, and his family. We would be eating away on our reindeer and pickled herring when someone would pick up his or her glass and  break out in a drinking song, and we’d all down our schnapps at the end of the song. Schnapps, I reminded myself, tasted a whole lot like how I’d imagine varnish would taste. In fact, I had just “borrowed” Tam’s glass to hold up during the songs before putting it down, untouched.

Remembering my sketchy tolerance for rum and the mojito that, once upon a time, turned into a mo-heave-to in my stomach when I drank it too fast. But that happened when I chugged it on an empty stomach. This time, since I’d be sipping it along with a meal, I would be ‘golden’.

So I chose the Rum Runner, anyway. After all, it would be frozen, like a rum Slurpee, and contain fruit juice. Fruit’s good for me, right?

After Debbie brought out my Rum Runner and Jeff’s “Redfish,” an IPA beer made in Goliad, she took our food orders. Since the fish tacos had made such a hit, my order was a no-brainer:  tacos with blackened shrimp, red beans and rice, and one cup of mango sauce and a cup of remoulade, a sauce I hadn’t tasted since the mid-1950s when Mama and Daddy and I ate dinner at Corpus Christi’s Ship Ahoy Restaurant. Jeff ordered the entree portion of Harbor Salad which consisted of a mound of fresh, green lettuce leaves dolled up with cranberries and walnuts, and accompanied by a tantalizing slab of  savory redfish with lemon slices. After our filling dinner and two drinks apiece, we joked about riding a  buggy — the “beach” version of Uber — back to our RV before Jeff signed  our tab and Debbie brought me an iced tea to go.

According to a slogan on the souvenir beer koozies, Redfish Willie’s Waterfront Grill is  “coastal seafood at its finest.” We believe it is, too. We will certainly be back again and again…and again, because, as that koozie also says, our “favorite ‘Willie’ lives in Texas.”

So, esteemed readers, what favorite restaurant, cafe, or burger joint do youulike the food so much that you make an effort to return to, even if it’s out of your way? Please share it with us. We would like to go there and tell ’em you sent us. I love reading your comments. Please scroll down below this post and post them in the “Comments” box.

In the meantime, keep your eyes peeled for the “Vintage Honeymooners'” next adventure  on a  laptop, desktop, tablet, or Smartphone nearest you.







LIVING ON ISLAND TIME, Part 2: “Feelin’ All Right”

English: Tourist shops at Port Aransas, Texas.
English: Tourist shops at Port Aransas, Texas. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)


6:30 a.m.

As I stepped out on the patio of the Wahoo, one of the cozy beach homes offered by BeeGee’s Coastal Quarters, the sun was staining the sky a soft gold on her way up. Salty breeze caressed my face as I  sipped espresso from my French roast pot and munched a Cheerios bar. Below the  table, Cousin Beeg’s short-haired, orange-and-white cat, Rusty, wove around my legs and meowed. As I twirled his tail, I leaned back and drank in the serenity of the moment.  I came down here to research Port A, but I would have to wait until the sleeping town woke up.

Chill out, Kim. You’re island time, now.

After washing out my coffee pot in the full-sized kitchen, I dressed in white crops, Skechers, and a black tee-shirt from the 2013 DFW Writers Conference, and grabbed my tote bag. Within minutes, mugginess shrink-wrapped  my body. The black tee, I decided, would have to go.

Around nine a.m., I parked at the Islander, a souvenir and beach shop on South Alister Street,  for a  lighter-weight tee in a cooler color.  Seeing their sale on four tees for $20, I went inside and chose a powder-blue tee-shirt with the logo,  “Port Aransas: Feel All Right.”

“I’m also here to research my next mystery, which I intend to set in Port Aransas,” I told the sales person as I offered her my card.

“Oooh, really? Well, come with me,” she said, leading me to a bookshelf and handing me Images of America: Port Aransasby J. Guthrie Ford and Mark Creighton.

According to information appearing on the back cover of the book, aficionados of  Port Aransas and Mustang Island have Dr. Ford to thank for  establishing the Port Aransas Preservation and Historical Association, and writing the four-volume Port Aransas Historic Series. And hats off to Mark Creighton, a Cornell University graduate, for over 8,000 archived digital images of Port Aransas and Mustang Island.

Recognizing a super source when I see one, I added it to the bill.

After dropping the purchases in my bag and changing into my new shirt in a neighboring restroom, I followed Avenue G to the beach where I shed my Skechers to sink my toes in the sand. It had been too long — January 2009 — since my last beach-fix.  Wet sand and cool water felt heavenly on  tired, sweaty feet!  One thing I have always loved about Texas beaches is that I do not get winded walking on them.  By the time I  walked all the way down to Horace Caldwell Pier and back to my car, I had logged about two miles and sweated off about ten pounds.

Around 10:45, that morning, I returned with face flushed and tummy growling. Time to poll the locals.

“So, where’s your favorite place to eat?”

Avery’s Kitchen,” chimed the Islander staff, almost in unison. They pointed to a blue frame building with white trim, located on the other side of Spanky’s Liquor.  In celebration of the annual SandFest, someone had built a sand castle beside the balcony. The sign outside Avery’s Kitchen read “Keepin’ It Simple.”

“Actually, we’re still serving breakfast, but you’re welcome to wait,” said Meredith, who fixed me up with a tall glass of ice water, a menu, and a copy of the South Jetty, Port A’s newspaper.

“Great! What is the best thing you serve?”

” Breakfast or lunch?”

“Both, really.”

“Well, our egg platters are really popular, particularly the corned-beef hash-and-egg one. For lunch, our hand-breaded fish and chicken-fried steak are good, too.”

My mouth watered. “Is the owner here where I could speak to him?”

“Sure! Just be careful back there. It’s slick.”

When I pushed through the swinging door, owner Avery Hernandez was covering a vat of cole slaw. After i shook his hand and introduced myself, I got him talking about his food.

“We hand-bread all of our own fish. And I make my own corned-beef hash. Basically, we serve comfort food.”.

“Yum! Here’s my card. While I’m here, I might grab some breakfast.”

“Sure,” he said. “In fact, I’d like to buy your dinner.”

As I dug into the corned-beef-and-eggs platter, my mouth told me this was not the  run-of-the-mill canned stuff. No siree-Bob! As Avery himself said, he had cooked the corned beef, chopped it, and mixed in potatoes. It went down smoothly with two eggs over-medium,a homemade biscuit with strawberry jam, and coffee.

Not only was the breakfast blog-worthy, so was lunch. Avery’s fish-and-chips, advertised on a blackboard outside, was $7.95. Having eaten fish and chips  at Long John Silver’s and Captain D’s, I asked Meredith about how Avery fixed it.

” It’s grouper, freshly-caught and hand-breaded.”

The grouper was so tender that it self-destructed in my hand. No “fake” fish, here.  The fries were so well-seasoned that I needed no additional salt.  Chunky cole slaw in a light, not overly-sweet dressing complemented the meal..

I was wiping my mouth and shoving my plate aside when Meredith approached me, again. After pouring more ice water, she pointed to a table where a cake and bowls were set out.

“When you’re ready for dessert, you’re welcome to a complimentary piece of our lemon cake.”

When I finished the square of cake — satisfyingly tart and sweet and just the right portion —  I paid for my meal and waved my thanks.

. “I will be back!”

Still on my agenda, the marina and the Chamber of Commerce. I had a lot of ground to cover in three days.  This was only Day One.