Day three of vacation and we are up at a decent time so as not to miss a single minute of Florida-time and at this point Todd and I are still under the delusion that we were going to adhere to our predetermined P90X schedule.  Of course we are (more on vacay exercise at another time). 

By “decent time” I mean for us.  Not for my father who routinely (and without an alarm) is up at six a.m. every single day.  So my dad has already been up for a couple of hours and taken a long walk on the each by the time we begrudgingly begin our workout.  He stands around and laughs at us for a couple of minutes, makes a couple of phone calls, shakes his head at us some more and then announces that he’s going to go take a nap. 

We make it through a very half-assed half-hour before we look at each other and decide that my father is a very smart man.

But instead of naps we instead shut off our workout, get cleaned up and head out to take a walk on the beach…take a wild guess where we wind up?  Pompano Joe’s!!!

My dad opted out for this outing but we still wound up with three appetizers between the two of us.  We got the crab claws (obviously), some Hawaiian bbq shrimp (???I really cant remember what it was called.  The shrimp was tasty but not de-pooped.  Gross.  Also came with bread which was sort of plain and boring.  Had it been garlic toast it would have been AWESOME!!!)  and a third that we had been eyeing but had never had, the seafood nachos.  They were nachos with shrimp and scallops and big chunks of fish.  Ummm..super yum?!?! 


Try Super-disappointment.

None of the seafood tasted like anything at all.  The cheese was 7=11 nacho cheese.  Everything was soggy.  I finally found the lettuce when we were done.  (Yes “done”.  I mean we ate it.  We didn’t complain.  We’re not assholes.  It wasn’t poison.  We just wouldn’t get it again, that’s all). 


We still positively adore you Pompano Joe’s.  We all have our bad days.

After some discussion Todd and I can’t actually figure out what we did with the next couple of hours.  Did we go to the pool?   Maybe.  Did we nap?  I don’t think so.  Read?  Watch t.v.?  Maybe we just sat around and stared at each other until it was time to head out to dinner.  Entirely possible.

Whatever it was, I’m sure it was better than work of any sort. 

We had decided, far in advance, that tonight was the night we were going to The Crab Trap.  Oh God. 

Never mind the fact that this place has a great bar on the beach that is perfect for watching the sunset (which it does)   it is also home to gigantic plates of crab.  Alaskan King.  Snow.  Soft shell.  Blue.  You-name-it. 

But first, that sunset.

My dad has quite the scientific method of predicting the Destin sunset that involves squinting into the sun, holding a beer in one hand and, with the other, measuring (by fingers) how many minutes it is until it’s dark.  Truth be told I laugh at him but he’s pretty damn good at it.  This is how we knew that the sun was going to set at approximately eighteen minutes after six.  Good job, Papa.

So we showed up in time to have a pre-dinner drink and take a picture or two while we waited for a table: 

In my defense the middle picture is Exhibit A of why my husband doesn’t get the camera often.  This is his him capturing me “directing the shot” (read:  “being bossy”).  If you would like another reason, it’s because when I get said camera back it is filled with multiple variations of pictures like this: 

My God I love this man :).

But I digress…

Crab Feast!  I will let the pictures do the talking!

One is his (obviously) the other one is mine and my dad had an identical one…and then there was Key Lime Pie.

Thank God for my wonderful husband.  I had planned on eating myself stupid on key lime pie on vacation but I think I only wound up having it three times.  This is because I was always so stuffed I didn’t think I could possibly have dessert.  Luckily Todd knows me better than I know myself :  :).

First pie = At the Red Bar.  Homemade.  So good I could have cried.  I still might.

Second pie = Crab Trap.  Tasty.  Sort of “standard” if there is such a thing with key lime pies because they are all so unique.  Standard does not mean bad, by the way.  I could have licked the plate.

Third pie = Yet to come in posts.  But at the Crazy Lobster.  Good and (to its advantage) HUGE!  Could have done without the weird green goo on top though. 

So.  Pie. 

Man I love food!