Taco Truck

I live in the Lower Keys so I'm not sure what is happening in the World with food trucks, whether they are still fashionable or are they just accepted or are they forgotten? Key West got really annoyed by these food palaces ostensibly on wheels arguing they took short cuts to serve cheaper food than established eateries in proper buildings...But here we have a prime example, Taco Express, tucked away between a pawn shop and a tire shop on North Roosevelt Boulevard.

My wife has had her eye on Taco Express and we stopped off on our way home last week from downtown and ordered up some food to go. It is actually a truck on wheels offering limited seating. It was a cool breezy evening, well not that cool but not oppressive by local standards and we were happy to wait for our food.

The menu is pretty expansive and we tried a little of this and that, a quesadilla, a burrito, a couple of tacos and took the food home.

The crew we were told consists of three men, funnily enough one Mexican, one Guatemalan and one Nicaraguan who happened to be on duty when we were there. The food though was very Mexican and my wife, a California native pronounced it authentic by West Coast standards. She wasn't completely fond of the ground beef  as she is of the school that authentic Mexican requires shredded beef but some adaptation to palates trained by (gasp!) Taco Bell is to be expected.

I thoroughly enjoyed the assorted dishes we took home and plan to stop by again and soon. Once again cheap eats in Key West come through on the street.

Flay For All

Usually my wife plans the eatery when we travel as she has the apps and the phone charged and I am driving and she tells me where to go. After a brief consultation on her choices. This time I said how about Bobby Flay's place round the corner? I have mixed feelings about celebrity chefs and their food but we tried Mario Batali's place in Las Vegas and it was good actually. 

The decor inside the palace was rather interesting and swirly, like a modern take on a 1950s  diner. However you don't actually sit and order at the diner counter. You get in line just inside the door, study the wall menu and place your order and pay. They assign you a number flag to put on the table and the food appears aas though by magic at your "unattended" section of the counter.

We went basic hamburger though basic wasn't exactly what we ordered. My wife got a blue cheese and bacon which was as tall as her head. How did you bite yours she asked me after a prolonged struggle with her mound. I ordered the New Mexico burger I said, chilies and cheese and onions make a smaller mound.

The onion rings were great the milk shake was over the top delicious and service was spot on.

Which naturally leaves me with egg on my face about the celebrity reticence I feel. We didn't even need the assorted sauces as there was plenty of flavor on the plate.

Our neighbor got a cheerful greeting when the server brought his food. Same place same order she smiled every time you come. I guess the food is consistently good then.  We liked it. #flayforall indeed! There are only 17 locations on the East Coast and Las Vegas so we were lucky to land one in Miami I guess.

Dadeland Mall is a stark reminder to a bumpkin from the Keys that the world outside has choices and lots of them. I was amazed by the displays of opulence. And someone says we need to make America great again? Down here at the bottom of the country it doesn't seem at all bad.

Grammar is dreadful but there again wrecking the school system instead of fixing it seems unlikely to help. At least they have a go in more than one language which has to count for something. Miami really is an extension of South America in many respects. Bankers are happy.

The rest of it was predictable enough, rounds of shopping, walking Rusty and eventually home. Rusty is my consolation for all those dreary parking lots. We explore together while Herself shops.

Great dog.

Season's End

My wife saw the writing on the wall last week and when she went to the Farmer's Market on Big PIne Key near our home it was shrunk down in preparation for the end of the winter season. So we came to Key West, had breakfast at Azur and very pleasant it was too.

 Poached eggs on potato hash with ham...

 ...and walked over to the last farmer's market of the winter.

Rusty was at home though when I saw other dogs I got my usual dose of K9 envy:

 This is a farmer's market by the sea...with a  dog bowl in this warm climate. 

 And my wife loves this man's pickles. I remember the roof over the parking lot protected cars for sale at the Cates Auto dealership. A long time ago.

 The Coastguard was having fun with a remote controlled boat puzzling the kids:

We repaired to the new brewpub behind the restaurant store. The Cuzzy Bubba was a light refreshing lager-like ale that we shared and thoroughly enjoyed.

It's a part time operation that sells through the Restaurant Store. I want to go back and try some of their other products as they aren't all hard core bitter IPA derivatives. Check out: Bone Island Brewing.

I was interested to see the Cole's Peace sign on the bread rack, another local business that was folded into the Restaurant Store. Cole's Peace was around forever it seemed like, since 1997 actually according to the archives, and I remember when the closure was announced and I wondered what would happen to the remarkable recipes. I used to eat mango bread straight from the brown paper bag like cake, when I was on my way to my boat captain job and I needed/wanted breakfast to go. And here it is, still here, the name of the business celebrating the baker's son who must be ...in college by now?

Sunrise

I know this stuff isn't what the Keys are known for, back country views, when everyone is busy photographing the sun rising out of the ocean and scenic palms but this is what I get to see morning after morning, thanks to Rusty's need to meet each day as a journey of exploration.  

 We chase shadows down trails through the mangroves, stubby little trees with gnarled branches and unremarkable green and yellow leaves.

This is the flatland, no mountains, no valleys and winding rivers and majestic oak trees growing out of the salty rubble that passes for soil.

The photos don't do justice to the stillness and quiet of the tidal ponds at that hour beofre the breeze picks up. 

 We are alone my beady eyed buddy and I. 

I posted this picture on my Instagram account where I mentioned it put me in mind of southeast Asia, land of rice paddies and water, misty mornings and palms. Instead it's the hedgerow alongside the Overseas Highway.

 The light was so dim I could barely fudge a photo of Fat Albert hovering above us.

 It's the solitude that repairs my mind and prepares me for sleep after a night of answering 911 calls. 

 It has become such a habit that if I try to go direct to bed (Rusty permitting and he does some days when he is tried from the day before), I find I don't sleep well.

I'm not exactly John James Audubon but at least I don't kill them when I shoot them with my telephoto camera.

Sloppy Joe's

I have never had a drink at Sloppy Joe's on Duval Street. I look inside and the noise and the appalling crowds freak me out. My idea of a place to drink is somewhere quiet and shady where there is room to talk, not this bedlam.

But I am in a tiny minority for this bar prides itself on being what Hemingway wanted when he lived in Key West, his buddy Sloppy Joe Russell made this place his own after he moved out of Captain Tony's location following an argument with the landlord. They tell the story at the Hemingway House tour of Hemingway helping to carry the toilet fixtures up Greene Street to the new location of his favorite Key West Bar. I don't think this ishat the writer had in mind when he went drinking:

I found this online discussing the Nobel Laureate's drinking habits (ice cold martini mostly gin was what he preferred they say):

From his experiences in World War I and Lost Generation Paris to safaris in Africa and fishing the Gulf Stream, from covering the Spanish Civil War and World War II to chasing German U-boats off the Cuban coast, Hemingway’s life was one full of adventure, Greene reminds us. “Don’t bother with churches, government buildings or city squares,” Papa once said. “If you want to know about a culture, spend a night in its bars.”

One feature you could like about Sloppy Joe's is the indoor/outdoor nature of the seating arrangements. So you sit there perched and get your picture taken. You were here drinking where everyone drinks because HE drank here they say. The weird nature of tourism. I wonder if any of them have read anything HE wrote.

The crowds are outside as well pressing in on the sidewalks making it even less fun to be on Duval.

My kind of spot:

One day I will have to break my self imposed taboo. I shall drink at Sloppy Joe's and try to listen for Hemingway rolling in his grave. I doubt he'd care where I drink though...

...I don't think this kind of look-alike caper in his name would do much for his equanimity:

Hemingway built a wall around his house for privacy and he claimed his home in Cuba (LINK) as his favorite home. 

But it's all for the dollar not the authenticity. I rather prefer to see chickens as a source of innocent amusement and photography than attempts to lay claim to Hemingway's haunts.

Well there we are. That's Sloppy Joe's. Weird and wonderful and 79 years old they say so they must be doing something right. Keep reading to see the other side of the Lower Keys...as seen by me.