Text 22356, 59 rader
Skriven 2014-12-28 11:07:00 av MICHAEL LOO (1:123/140)
Ärende: more on FLA 517
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There's this place out near Eglin called Props, started
by a couple of retired pilots and decorated with old
airplane paraphernalia. It brews its own beer, the shiny
kettles in the background, and is a hangout for a mixed
crowd of off-duty military, students, and musician
allsorts (we came here after a concert). The food is
said to be pretty good, but unfortunately we got there
at 10 after 10, and the kitchen closes at 10. Ah, well,
beer is calories, right. We ordered various brews, a
very light and wheaty Kolsch and a too-light blonde ale
for the ladies; double IPA for Bill, and black IPA - a
strange hybrid between a Schwarzbier and an IPA, not bad
but sort of dissonant - for me. The beers were well made
but somehow not quite enough for dinner, so Annie went
down the way and got Chinese takeout, which came back in
15 minutes, pretty good for what it was (junk food) -
fried chicken wings, beef satay, egg rolls, boneless
spareribs, fried shrimp. The brewpub was understanding
and let us nosh in peace (unlike some other places that
frown on this, including one in Bury St. Edmunds a few
years back that threw me out for bringing food in - I
left with the food and made my friends choose between me
and the pub; they all chose me, and the pub lost fifty
to a hundred pounds in business).

A trip to Santa Rosa Island and the Gulf Shores National
Seashore, which has some of the whitest sand I've ever
seen. The island is an odd mixture of luxury and seed,
with new fancy condos near fancy beach houses near
crummy old shacks next to places abandoned ever since
Hurricane Ivan a decade ago. We looked at the Gulf and
the beaches and the old condoms in the parking lot, but
these were not enough to take away our appetite - we
hit Flounders, a local hangout owned by the locally
prominent McGuire family. We ate our fill of Texas Gulf
oysters on the half shell for a buck each, kind of mild
compared to the Atlantics that I like so much, and
onion rings, which came strung on a towel holder as is
the current fashion; these were crisp and good and
maybe even better than the ones at the bbq joint. Bill
also had a bowl of flounder chowder, which, after the
first one got sent back for being cold, was pronounced
good. Annie ordered a slice of key lime pie, which
wasn't exactly a slice, was probably not key lime, and
wasn't pie at all: it was a three-layer tower almost
a foot tall, consisting of graham-cracker crust, two
inches of yellow filling, more crust, two inches of
green filling, more crust, and two inches of yellow
filling. Whipped (light) cream on top and on the sides.
And the filling was cheesecake. One could have fed the
three of them on the thing.

McGuire's Red is like Killian's but just a little hoppier
- $3 a glass if you buy a pitcher. We floated away past
the man-eating clam, which Annie made me pose inside.

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