Everglades City

I spend a lot of time writing about food but my real interest is how people come together over a meal. I plan to write more about this in the future but for now I want to share some of the wonderful experience I had during the past week.

My family went to Florida for spring break. We were all supposed to go on a multi day canoeing adventure in the Everglades but when I realized how far behind I was falling on my schoolwork, I decided to stay behind in Everglades City and take advantage of the total seclusion to finish up some work while waiting for them to come back.

Yes they did eventually make it into the water.

As they paddled off into mangroves, I waved goodbye and then took out my books. It seemed like I would get a lot done. After all, I figured, how could I be distracted in a town where I didn’t know anyone? I hadn’t figured on a couple of things…

Day one: Took a study break for lunch at Havana Café where I met Phil and Dave. I was looking in vain for a table on the overcrowded patio and realizing with dismay that I would have to wait in line to get a seat when a pair of brothers called over to me. “Hi honey! We were just waiting for you!” Who could resist an offer like that? I wandered over with the intention of just sitting down while waiting for my own seat but Phil and Dave had me laughing so hard at their jokes and stories about the wild adventures they had had during their years working as commercial airline pilots that I ordered lunch and stayed for with them for over an hour.


Beyond the huge glasses of sweet tea, we enjoyed Mahi Mahi, all spiced and drizzled with key lime and served with rich black beans. 

Oh and also these great garlicky shrimp!

Day two: Was driving down by the waterfront and admiring the sunset en route to dinner. Pulled over at a little waterfront fish market with a sign for a café. Wandered onto the porch where I found a group of people sitting on the picnic tables and enjoying the sunset.

Turns out the café was closed and the women gathered on the porch were tourists like me. Arlo, the owner and cook, had invited the women to visit with him and enjoy the view. And what a view it was- the porch hung out over a wide river whose current slow pace could almost make you forget what a raging flood it becomes during hurricane season. Golden sunbeams refracted off the water and danced across the lush green mangroves whose twisted roots made up the riverbank.  

When everyone found out I was from up North, they took turns telling me stories about what it meant to be really from the South. The hurricane of 1947 that flattened out the entire town? One woman said her family had all piled into their houseboat, puttered it up stream, lashed it loosely to the shore and then the kids had spent the storm climbing around the mangrove trees like extra-hyper monkeys. Yes, evacuation plans were for the weak of heart…

They told me the real story of the town, from explorers and Native Americans to poachers and the serial murderer from the plantation days who, legend has it, buried his victims there along the shore. As the sun sank orange and burgundy on the lazily swirling river, they painted a local history for me that was colored by local secrets, rich portraits of the city’s founders and stories laced with tantalizing lurid details. All the stories were so absurd and yet seemed so perfectly fitted to the strange landscape that I couldn’t tell which histories were real and which ones were born of a combination of beer and a love of storytelling but, seriously, who cares?

When we made plans to return for lunch the next day, I revealed my interest in writing about them for the blog. Turns out the only thing they had more of than stories about the everglades was advice about cooking. My favorite snippet came when Arlo was complaining about a new restaurant in town: “She doesn’t fry anything!! You know me, if I can’t fry it then I don’t buy it!”

Day three: Went back to Triad Seafood for lunch and met up with everyone. 

Sadly, the food was so good I forgot to reach for my camera when it arrived! Think soft shell crab, battered and fried- the soft white meat nearly melting on your tongue and chased by sharp darts of salt in a crunchy golden batter. Creamy coleslaw, not sweet enough for Jo’s taste but just right for me, help balance the intensity of the crab. Everything washed down with dark iced tea tea. I’m technically not eating sweets during Lent but when Teresa pushed a slice of home-made key lime pie my way, I admit I couldn’t help but shave off a tiny slice. The first sweet taste I’d had in weeks sat on my tongue for just a minute before disappearing behind the delicate tartness of the lime. 

The best part of all this? The wonderful people I met that week made what could have been a lonely three days, one of the best parts of our trip! It was great to meet you all :) If you're ever up in New England, I'll cook you up a storm!