Our favorite tournament
Back to Monterey for the first tournament of the year, and our favorite. The Hyatt Regency, nee Del Monte Hyatt, is a lovely hotel, now with all refurbished rooms.
Play, for us, will start tomorrow. We drove down in the afternoon and went out to dinner with Carol Scott, returning for our annual pilgrimage to the Monterey Fish House.
Everyone goes here. Although I had a reservation, we had to wait about 10 minutes for a table to materialize. That was after I had to physically force my way into the joint because some woman, who also had a reservation, refused to move to let others in. She said there was no room. She was wrong. Gail was not about to stand outside in the rain.
Gail started with the shrimp cocktail, in a classic presentation complete with the “oyster” crackers that contain no oyster.
Next up was a spinach salad, topped with too many sliced black olives straight out of the can and a too-sweet dressing.
Gail had the sand dabs. The waiter graciously volunteered to bone them:
Sand dabs always strike me as a high risk meal–they are very good or very bad. These were good, although the veggies and pasta didn’t look all that appetizing.
I had the salmon pasta. Chunks of salmon floured and sauteéd, served with liguini and a vodka sauce. They were supposed to hold the mushrooms, but failed in that simple task.
This dish was both heavy and tasteless. When I don’t finish a plate of pasta you know there is something missing.
The best part of the meal was yet to arrive–spumoni!
Three kinds of ice cream blended with frozen cherries and nuts. Wonderful! You can make some very fancy desserts, but it is hard to beat a simple dish of Italian delight.
The Monterey Fish House is always jammed. The staff does an excellent job of hustling the customers in and out without rushing them. Prices are very reasonable.
The food is mediocre. It has always been mediocre. You get what you pay for, and they charge what this stuff is worth. In a city with so many truly fine seafood restaurants, for some reason we keep coming back to this one. I don’t know why. I think I’m giving up on it–even the places on the wharf catering to tourists from Kansas serve better food. I just feel like this is a long silly tradition that people feel a need to follow although they have forgotten why.