Klein’s – Belmar, NJ

If you’re so in-Klein-ed

Swimming with the fishes: It’s like the mob…mobbed with enough wise-guy tourists (aka Bennies*) to force you out, but trumped by endless waterfront views and freshly cleaned fish to keep pulling you back in.

*Bennies = Guidos, Ronnies, Joey-bag-o-doughnuts…pretty much the cast of Jersey Shore

Klein's sea scallop sandwich = Jersey Shore summer.

Sushi sleuth: But I was eyeing the lobster sushi rolls. And by eyeing, I mean private eyeing. I’ve become so suspicious when it comes to lobster since I’ve lived on the west coast (Pacific lobster = no claws, tough and tasteless) and was relieved that I was back where Maine lobster is the main player.

So I went for the Belmar roll (represent, locals!) with lobster and spicy tuna wrapped in a thin sheet of edaname, but there wasn’t much lobster to get excited about and I realized that I’d dropped the ball when scoring my favorite east coast eats…why didn’t I get a whole lobster or the soft shell crab sandwich?!

And my dad’s fried shrimp, plump and lightly breaded with a healthy, pink sheen beneath, only made my ferocious case of food envy worse…at least I had the foresight to get my own order of waffle fries - possibly the best on the Shore.

But fish was the real lure here. Klein’s couldn’t be denied as one of the freshest fish stops in town (due to their own on-premise fish market) and though they weren’t cheap, quality seafood like this was worth paying a few extra clams.

P.S. I love you: Why I love my dad, Scooter = the personality of Joe Pesci + Rodney Dangerfield. We had a server that was training a girl and my dad was really worried that the trainee wasn’t getting tips, so he grabbed our waiter (literally) and made him find the trainee to slip her a $10.

Toast - Absury Park, NJ

Toast of the Town
You had me at red velvet pancakes. And Irish Benedict = corned beef hash instead of Canadian bacon.

Peace. Love. Pancakes. - Toast's mantra, carried over to the friendly and willing, yet somewhat forgetful wait staff. Forgetful, but not forgettable, especially since they owned up to any mistakes and clearly communicated about delays.

Plus, I was already distracted by my lobster roll (breakfast and lunch are available all day). Oh, Maine lobster how I love thee! West Coast living means giving up claw meat (and taste), since Pacific/Mexican Lobster is a pincher-less mutant whose tail is tougher than nails.

And although there were only about 4 bites, it was ALL LOBSTER (only a touch of mayo and lemon), served with a mini-pitcher of melted butter. But how could I justify the $16.95 price tag for an almost-amuse-bouche?

I was reminded of Julia Roberts in Steel Magnolias when she told Sally Field, “I’d rather have one moment of wonderful, than a lifetime of nothing special.” Same went for lobster rolls – I’d rather have four bites of luxury, than a hoagie full of mayo and celery.

Toast earned another “A” in seafood with the shrimp BLT, where we switched out the Old Bay mayo for the refreshing cleanse of wasabi/cucumber sauce - perfection. Sides showed off sweet potato fries, but they didn’t hold a candle to the crisp class(ic)-act of Toast’s traditional version.

But tradition was bucked at breakfast, flaunting present day designs like Bananas Foster French toast (made with Challah bread) and Will's Firebird (gluten-free) pancakes. Homemade hash was salty and tender with enough sodium-filled protein to last me all day. And isn’t that what breakfast is about? That warm hug to your tummy that keeps you going? Toast spread on the edible love, thick, spinning homespun into a home-run.

McLoone's - Asbury Park, NJ

One Hot (summer) Mess
You know you’re in trouble when the best part of the meal is the curdled “she-crab soup”. I put that in quotes because the real she-crab soup is supposed to have crab roe - this didn’t. Just clumps of clotted cream...the only cream of this (rotten) crop.

Drinks, I think? - I ordered the $10 mojito that came in one of those plastic cups you get at the dentist - swish and spit was exactly what came to mind.

No one’s hailing this Caesar = Lettuce, a sprinkle of grated parmesan (from a green can?) and drab, flat dressing. Where were my croutons, damn it?! The waiter told us, “I’ll try to muster some up.” By the sound of it I thought the chef would actually make us some fresh croutons, since they didn’t have any. Nope – he brought back box-cut squares that made me wonder why they weren’t in this $12 salad in the first place.

Clammy No-Neck - Little neck clams should be the size of a dime and sweet morsels of the sea. Instead we got gorilla necks...the kind of neck that would ruin a turtleneck it was so big. Gross. Even grosser was they were also rough necks = no one separated the clam from the shell. I guess that was our job, you lazy mother shuckers.

Fried green beans – How do you ruin a fried treat? Leave it to McCloone's. I’d envisioned the crisp snap of green bean beneath a tempura-esque shell, but instead I realized this glue-based-batter only housed the limp carnage of a canned “used to be” vegetable - the final insult.

Killing me softly - McLoone's is like a guy that looks like he has it all (beachfront seating, low candlelight), an amazing catch, "How could he be single?!"...and then you find a body in his basement. But even the dead would try to escape, as would the summer tourists that might get caught in this trap once, but not again, especially at these prices. McLoone's became a sad stop at what could have easily been the belle of the boardwalk.

Beerback Mountain: I can't quit you - Hillcrest's Local Habit (San Diego)

We came in for some change, and that’s exactly what we got. Not in terms of the quarters and dimes that we needed for parking, but Local Habit’s complete remodel of the former, Pizza Fusion, like one of those horrible romantic comedies where “the cool guys” bet they can turn some bland being into prom queen. And they’d succeeded (in a much less obnoxious way) because all it took was one glance at the specials menu to realize that our meter wasn’t the only thing about to get fed.

This nouveau man-cave was a bit sparse, but clean in design. Wooden accents broke up brightly colored walls and high ceilings, adding rustalgic (= rustic + nostalgic) elements with dishcloth napkins, Mason jars for water and serving hard-to-find hops from places like San Diego’s first nano-brewery, Hess. Habit’s own Adam and Andy, touted their selections with pride, beaming like proud papas about their secret stash they were willing to share.

Flights of beer made it easy for multiple taste tests and that carried over to the bruschetta special – your choice: one of each or three of the same. We decided to try them all, while sipping on some Ballast Point pilsner = summer in a glass.

Tomato confit/ bacon lardon – I saw the word “lardon” and I heard it calling my name. What?! Lardon isn’t that far off from Lauren – geesh!! Give me a break…and some more lardons please.

Roasted tomato and onion w/ anchovy – sometimes salty and delicious, other times a fishy flop, the anchovy can be a fickle beast…but Chef Nick clearly knew how to sooth this one - possibly my favorite.

Fresh heirloom tomato w/ burratta and basil – If Ballast Point pilsner was summer in a glass, this was summer on a plate - classic and clean, but pretty skimpy on the burratta.

My idea of bruschetta = 1-2 inch sliced, toasted bread + surface fully covered with tomato-based topping.

Local Habit’s idea of bruschetta = garlic butter + toasted bread + slices the size of a playing card (and not much thicker) + toppings pushed to one corner.

Not the norm, but fabulous all the same. I loved every one and admired their approach to taking what can sometimes be a clunky appetizer and streamlining it into this portable, two-bite-delight. Small, but mighty…the only problem was that I would probably need about 20 to fill up and at $5 per order, that wasn’t going to happen. But I'd be back, only next time I'd add on a Neopalitan-crust pizza (gluten-free crust also available) and to see what's (on) tap dancing behind the bar.

Chef Sean comes to San Diego

Oh, you know Chef Sean. He’s that crazy pal of mine that used to be an executive chef back in the day, and still never ceases to amaze (or feed) me with his forward food concepts, bound to be served with a side of mayhem.

He was like an annoying, older brother that made sure to bring the fun, but always seemed to get me in trouble, so when he came to visit, I knew I had to start by giving him a dish best served cold…only because oyster shooters come that way.

Nick’s at the Pier: Take 10 steps from the beach and climb a flight of stairs to Nick’s = a full view of the ocean and pier with affordable/tasty sandwiches/tacos. But we’d come for the oyster shooters = take 10 steps back.

My idea of an oyster shooter: vodka + oyster + horseradish + hot sauce.
Nick’s oyster shooter: cocktail sauce + cocktail sauce + oyster + was vodka in there?

Nothing like a shot of ketchup. Thankfully the taste was washed out of our mouths with mahi tacos and beer at South Beach Bar & Grill:

It's not all mahi tacos I crave, only South Beach's concoction of shredded cabbage, melted cheddar and the thin white sauce (still mysterious in origin) atop this piece of fish, geometrically fitted to the tortilla's specifications. Every time I try to order something else (Rockefeller would surely grumble to know the oysters here shared his name and the lobster tacos aren't even a close second), I realize that they are the sole reason for my return...read more

After stuffing our gullets, it was time to drop in on a bar who's name dropped whenever speaking fluent San Diego-ese, the Sunshine Company:

My favorite part about Sunshine, besides their strong pour Cadillac margaritas, is that it's half-n-half. Half inside, half outside. Downstairs, the kitchen and pool tables stay covered, while to the left "non-ceiling-ed" smokers feel as if they're breaking a cardinal rule, puffing inside with no one to call them out(side). And upstairs represented San Diego to a tee - all the sun you could drink (in) with a chaser of booze.

When the dinner bell rang, fancy fare wasn't necessary. Knowing Chef Sean's affection for burgers and beer halls, what other choice was there than Hamilton’s:

Tap--- tap--tap___ Telegraph white__ served on tap- tap____
Like Ahab in search of his white whale,
I was Rehab in search of my white ale.

I had heard of this rarity, this Telegraph white, but was not prepared for a smoky glass of liquid barbeque. This hickory switch (up) stung my senses and branded beer its own food group, which seemed to be the norm at Hamilton’s Tavern*...read more

The Legend Continues - Trilogy V (Maui)

The best trilogy throughout time? Are you a Star Wars whore? Or do you tend to swing towards Lord of the Rings? Personally, my favorite bobbed in Ma‘alaea Harbor, boasting characters as memorable as Luke or Leia, with genuine charm, integrity and humor, against a backdrop with no need for special effects.

We approached a ferry-like boat, already mobbed with tourists shoving their way aboard, just as I heard a child's piercing scream from within. I tensed up in horror before realizing our vessel, the Trilogy V, was the serene catamaran tied next to this floating mini-van.

But that didn't mean we weren't going to be close - not in terms of space, but as a group. Yoshi, our captain, told us we were all family for the next five hours and went on to explain that if we had to go #2, that was the only time to flush toilet paper...then he asked us if we knew what #2 was (he was from Japan and they didn't have that there). We all laughed at Uncle Yoshi's lovable antics and got ready to sail.

But the "love boat” didn't stop there. All of the crew knew us by first name - pretty impressive (about 40 people or so) - plying us with juice and coffee before Mama's homemade cinnamon rolls arrived, along with a fruit platter fresher than a disobedient schoolboy (mango, papaya, cantaloupe, pineapple).

Molokini was the first of two snorkel destinations and we decided to SNUBA. What’s SNUBA?! Pretty much SCUBA without the commitment - the swinging bachelor of the diving world. The only difference being that our air tanks were attached to a raft above, so whenever we wanted to pop up for air, we had a place to rest - worth the extra cost of about $60.

Turtle Bay was the next stop, with much colder water, and only a few sea turtles spotted, but even more attention grabbing were the deafening screams of children from the sailing clown-car we’d seen earlier that morning, now anchored nearby. I felt a swell of pride like the kid who'd realized how cool her own family was and doggy-paddled back like a loyal retriever for lunch.

Lunch matched the quality of breakfast. Plates bearing teriyaki chicken thighs, rice, Ceasar salad and taro rolls were served as we lounged atop the cabin (offering seconds to make sure we were filled to the gills). Fresh ingredients + salty sea air = sea fare satisfaction.

The sail went up on our way back, while countless mother and calf whales took care of entertainment.

But they weren’t the only miraculous sights in the middle of the ocean. This woman must have arms of steel…and her kid must have some good balancing skills. Paddle on sister!

The necessary three of Trilogy:
1) Integrity: only morning launches since the ocean is rougher in late afternoon and they cancel if windy - unlike their competitors.

2) Appreciation: treating you with respect, but with a comfortable nature that automatically makes you feel welcome. Like a family member that came to visit and they’re showing you around the island.

3) The Crew:
(I’ve got almost all of their action figures…though I’m still looking for a Yoshi.)

Uncle Yoshi (Yoda) - wise, hilarious, humble, generous
Kyle (Han Solo) - the sarcastic softee, best SNUBA teacher ever
Dan (Luke) sweet, helpful, eager
Keoni (Lando) relaxed, under the radar, but always there when needed
Jenny (Princess Leia) beautiful and tough as nails, could go toe to toe with any of the men and they knew it.*

*But loved catching nurturing moments like how she was teaching Kyle a word of Mandarin a day.

I wonder how you would say thank you in Mandarin? Or that this was one of the best experiences I’ve had in Maui? Either way, I'm looking forward to the next family reunion.

The Supper Standby - Urban Solace (San Diego)

Urban Solace is one of my San Diego staples when speaking/pleasing out-of-towner tongue. Even finicky Aunt Mabel can find something that registers on the familiar scale with dishes rooted in the traditional, but flashing a haute new look.

Like taking the standard Mule, known for its ginger-beer base with fresh limes and upping the ante with saffron vodka for a bit of the exotic. This Golden Mule was good in theory , but I’d probably rate it more of a bronze (saffron flavor wasn’t very present)- though I'd be happier with copper...they missed a key component when bypassing the traditional, copper mug with one more suitable for a campsite.

Fried green tomatoes topped with blended goat cheese and crème fraiche - I couldn’t have been more impressed with the delicate cornmeal coating that held its own and held on (actually gripping the tomato – sometimes they can be like bad onion rings where the outer batter just peels off.) But what really blew me away was the tenderness of the fried fruit. So many times I find these either completely unripe or tasteless - this was not the case here…and Jersey girls know their tomatoes.

Not your Momma’s meatloaf = ground lamb wrapped in bacon with figs, feta, pine nuts and fig jus. Who the hell’s Momma anyway? I forgot as soon as this newfangled, formed meat hit my mouth. Bacon acted as the loaf’s crispy corset (not like the floppy, fatty slices when old "what’s her name" used to make it). Though, I did find it a bit heavy on the fig this time, but usually the ingredients are more evenly distributed. It could have also been because the sweet mash beneath had already brought enough candy-like quality to the plate. Still, Mama didn’t raise no fool and this was always worth a re-order.

Duckaroni = mac 'n cheese with duck confit, blue cheese, roasted garlic, arugula, scallion - True Confessions: Sometimes, (gulp) I think about my precious Duck-a-roni…during the day in traffic, awake in my bed at night…and wonder what it’s doing. Is it thinking about me? Should I stop over after work? I feel like a stalker in a relationship where I just can’t seem to get enough. But my favorite part is that even if I stray from my ever faithful ‘Roni when choosing an entree, I can order it as a side and pretend that I’ll share with the rest of the table (hands off - it's mine!).

Don’t worry Mabel, we didn’t forget about you. A standard found on any menu is done to perfection here with the Niman Ranch burger. Ground chuck makes all the difference when achieving the coveted, "juices-running-down-the-arm" effect, but the sturdy egg bun stood up to chuck with a sweetness similar to potato bread and offset by the sharpness of aged white cheddar. Add bacon? Don’t mind if I do. Fries are always plentiful and on point.

Besides being a hit for visitors, it makes an easy, in-the-neighborhood evening out (but get their early or make reservations because everyone else has figured this out too) - though it was a bit pricier than I remembered. What used to be in the $12-$14 range is now in the $18 -$20 - enough of an increase to make it feel more like a splurge than the weekly norm. Still, it’s a solid save whenever the craving for couture comfort food arises with an itching for dishes that can’t be found anywhere else in the city.

Also check out their Bluegrass Brunch featuring live music and treats like pork belly benedict every Sunday (or try the "blunch" on Saturdays 10:30am-4pm).