Showing posts with label Chase. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Chase. Show all posts

Sunday, July 12, 2015

Of Chase and oysters


Quite some time ago, my nephew, Chase, ordered oysters from a restaurant here at the beach.  The restaurant's menu included fried oysters, so he ordered some raw.  They were unsure what to do with his order.  Their decision resulted in a blog entry and this photo of

Click an image to see a larger version.

the dreaded and disgusting oyster goblet.

Do not attempt this goblet anywhere.

Today at lunch, we visited a new (to us) beach restaurant, one whose menu actually listed raw oysters on the half shell.  I'm happy to report that these oysters did not come in a goblet or glass of any kind.


Chase declared their quality hit-or-miss, and many were too sandy, but I think we can all agree that they represent a big step forward for beach cuisine.

For those who track our beach movie-watching, in addition to a couple of UFC events, we've now consumed an SF film and, of course as a late offering, the newest Segal.  It was everything we expected it to be.








Saturday, July 17, 2010

Beach weirdness never stops

Warning: Two disgusting images ahead. Stop reading now if you don't want to see them.

Life at the beach moves at a slow pace, but it doesn't lack for weirdness. One of today's odder group conversations took place in the pool, as several of us discussed the enormous flap of skin hanging from Kyle's foot--a flap that until recently had been a callus. Kyle was (understandably, at least to men) rather proud of his huge callus and at various points offered these two observations:

My left foot has a big enough tongue to French kiss a woman.

Chicks dig the fleshy tongue.
Not long thereafter, as the topic turned toward dinner plans, Sarah offered this line:
I'm up for anything as long as Kyle's fleshy tongue isn't involved.
Speaking as her father, I have to support her position.

Just how big is this skin flap? I'm glad you asked. Check it out for yourself--and note that I did warn you above.


Later, for the very dinner we'd been discussing, we opted to try a place that had been good last year but that was suspiciously low on customers.

We won't be going back.

Many dishes motivated this decision, but none more than what my nephew, Chase, received when he persuaded the kitchen to bring him raw oysters.


After Chase received his glass of oyster sliminess, this exchange occurred:
Waitress: Is this what you expected?

Chase: No.
Seriously, no one expects the oyster goblet.


Remember: I did warn you.

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