They have a drink called the South Beach. Stoli Oranj, Absolut Citron and a splash of something. (Air, I suspect.) Sublime, thought it should be called the “smack you on the ass” martini.

Shrimp and heirloom grits for my app, and I would not share. (Thought I do have to think that heirloom grist are simply a box of grits found in the back of the pantry that don’t have any weevils in them.) Shrimp was marinated and grilled, and the grits were done perfectly. And it’s an appetizer that is actually appetizer sized so you’re not going to ruin your meal.

My brother, the more generous of us, got the jerk beef tips app and actually shared with everyone. Those were great, too, and again a small serving that is actually appetizer sized.

I went for the special – seared Mahi-Mahi (always good) over a grits cake (sold) with succotash and bacon. (SOLD!) And some more shrimp thrown in for good measure. And the bonus: teeny tiny baby lima beans in the succotash that were soooooooooo good. (I know it’s a love/hate bean. I love them.)

Lisa and I were also apparently in an eating competition – except that no one told us it was a contest until the end of the meal. (For the record, I won. It seems it became a contest when we both ordered the special.)

From what I understand the crabcakes and steak that others got were quite good as well.

The only downside was that everyone was too full for dessert martinis at the end of the night.

Definitely on the “must go again next year” list.

MP 2.5 on the Beach Road. Make reservations!!

Started off with the Oysters Rockefeller, which they apparently make a little differently from the standard, as it has spinach in it. (That was part of the reason I ordered it – one year I overheard a woman giving the waiter holy hell over the fact that OR is not supposed to have spinach in it. Though it’s quite clearly noted on the menu.) Well, I liked them and would get them again, so I can only assume this woman simply doesn’t like anything that doesn’t conform to her ideal of normal.

Then I moved on to the seafood carbonara. Shrimp and scallops and pasta and bacon. You can’t go wrong there.

Sadly, I made no note of what anyone else ordered but we all were quite satisfied by the end of the night.

They also have a very cool bar, if you’re just looking for a nightcap, it’s definitely worth popping in.

MP 8.5 on the Beach Road. Reservations accepted. Probably not needed but we always get them anyway.

Meridian 42

A bit of a bust. They did in fact change ownership last year and the new owner (who I think was one of the original partners, but I’m not 100% sure.) decided to scale back to just Italian.

The calamari is still fantastic, but the rest of it was just average. Tev did point out that the biggest problem is that they suffer from people knowing how great they were with the Mediterranean menu and plain Italian doesn’t really measure up.

Between the 4 of us, we had softshell crabs, sea scallops and veal marsala. The scallops were reported to be pretty good. The crabs were OK, but I’ve had better – something was off with the frying – maybe a bit overdone? The veal was OK, but it was also commented that maybe they just got a bad cut of meat, and there is only so much you can do with that. The side of the night was penne pasta with marinara, and honestly, it was mediocre at best. It’s just disappointing considering how good everything was in years past.

I can understand wanting to go with a “safe” menu in this economy, but you have to step it up and make sure it is GOOD. If you’re just average Italian, you’re not going to last around here, and in 2 years, there’s going to be yet another owner. Unless I hear that something has really changed between now and next year, I doubt a return trip is on tap.

#1 Ocean Blvd. Reservations accepted. (But probably not needed if things continue the way they are…)

Barefoot Bernie’s Tropical Bar

New for us this year. They have all the standard beach seafood fare with some Jamaican and Tex/Mex thrown in and the usual fruity beach drinks.

Got the Tex Mex chicken potato skins, which were really good. Though, they don’t come with sour cream… Some other sauce, which was very good, but it was all I could do to not ask for sour cream. My brain can’t really process potato skins without sour cream. For dinner I got plain old fried shrimp. Not exciting, not exotic, but just what I wanted and they just hit the spot.

Little bro got wings to start and the steamer platter (clams, shrimp & crab) and polished that off in short order.

Not fancy or outlandish, just good and worthy of a return visit.

MP 4.5 on the Bypass. No reservations needed.

The Black Pelican

This is the third time I’ve been here and it’s been kind of all over the place. The first time I got the Prime Rib and it was delicious. The second time we went with Tev & Lisa, and it was a comedy of errors in getting our orders right, but the food was good and we got a free round of drinks for the issues.

This year – not so great. Started with the crab rangoon which was very good. Then moved onto the Cajun Fish bites – cajun fried catch of the day, which was swordfish. Not bad, but not much that was cajun-y about it.

Then I got the shrimp and grits. Shrimp sauteed in onions, garlic, peppers and tomatoes, over jalapeño cheese grits. I just hoped that the jalapeños wouldn’t overpower everything. Turns out that was the least of my worries. They neglected to mention to half a jar of chili powder that was dumped in while they were cooking the shrimp as well as the chili powder dusting on the rim of the plate. (Every time the air currents changed, you’d get lungful of chili powder…) Even with the grits, the shrimp were WAY too hot, and I do like spicy food. However, the grits all by themselves were stupendous.

Donald had the same problem with the ribs he ordered – all spice and no taste. There’s a line between being spicy and inedible, and they seem to have lost sight of where that line is. Probably off the list for next year.

MP 4 on the beach road. No reservations needed.

Kelly’s

Kelly’s is weird. The food is quite good but there is always some odd thing that is more memorable. First trip it was the weird cocktail waitress that I was quite sure was trying to kill us. The the odd little room the four of us had to ourselves last year. (I guess we looked like we were going to cause problems.) This year it was the hostess with pink hair and a sternum piercing. (Not gross, just extremely painful to contemplate.)

Also, there is a bit of a fading glory thing going on. In 2000 it was named the best place to meet babes by Playboy magazine. I don’t think it still holds that distinction. It also seemed that the average age of the clientele had jumped about 15 years in the past 12 months.

But, weird or not, the food is great. You start with a kickass bread basket with 3 or 4 types of bread and biscuits, so everyone will find something to fill up on even before dinner arrives.

I got the clams casino started, and they were very good. (Awful Arthur’s is still #1 for those in my book, though.) The rest of the table shared a plate of calamari, and happy “this is good” noises were being made all around. (I was too busy with my clams to pay attention to any actual words.)

I got the special – rockfish with crab over rice and veggies. VERY good. (I also just love rockfish.) In an unusual turn for me, I ate all the vegetables – green beans that had a ton of butter and a touch of cumin of all things. (Took me forever to figure out what it was, and then when I figured it out I yelled, “IT’S CUMIN!” like some culinary tourette’s patient.)

Tev got the softshell crabs and said they were quite good. At this point, neither myself or my brother can remember what else we ordered, but that we were all happily stuffed at the end of the night. (As I said, there is always something else that prevents us from remembering what we ordered…)

Definitely a repeat.

MP 10.5 on the bypass. Still working out the kinks of call ahead seating.

You wake up in the morning with all sorts of ideas of how things will be when you’re in charge. But first, it’s time to take the dog for a walk. Then it’s a few cups of coffee, check the news to see if any of the major news agencies have gotten wind of your nefarious plans, catch some SportsCenter and see who is in the lead in the TdF. (Hey, if you’re going to run the world, you have to pay attention to international sporting events.)

Then it’s a few errands or some shopping or general putzing around town. Grab a sandwich for lunch, and since it’s a gorgeous day, gotta hit the beach and catch some rays. (Have you seen any benevolent world dictator that didn’t have a good tan?) But it’s OK, you can work out those details of how you’re going to form your new global empire from on the beach – the ocean waves are very soothing and will help clear your head. But there is that book you’ve been meaning to read…

Next thing you know, it’s 5PM and time to run the dog around the block again and have that pre-dinner bloody mary. Observance of the seemingly long-lost cocktail hour is a must. If you’re going to run the world, people need to see that you’re at least going to be civilized about it.

Then it’s dinner. And you can’t sit around and discuss these plans during dinner – it’s just unbecoming.

But it’s OK, still lots of hours in the evening to work on global infrastructure, cabinet posts, and the logistics of transporting the Burke crew to the HQ down here at the beach.

Except for that post-dinner food coma…

Repeat for 2 weeks and you’ve got a great tan, added 5 pounds to yourself, and dropped your stress levels quite a bit. However, you’re not running the world.

Back to relying on a lottery win. ;)

I will not draw up battle plans when I discover the people across the street have a slingshot.

I should not assume that any lost dog knows where it lives, as it will just go to the house it thinks looks like fun.

I will not talk about shark sightings without specifically mentioning that said sighting was at the NC aquarium.

I should not call out scores for difficulty and execution when kayakers wipe out when riding the surf into the beach.

When a grown man is bitten by a sand crab, I should not say, “No shit, they don’t like to be picked up!”

I will not look for hidden compartments in the house where I can hide when the vacation lease is up.

I should not play Scotland the Brave on the car stereo while going through town as it makes people think they are having auditory hallucinations.

Last night we hit what has become our traditional first night spot – Awful Arthur’s. Sure, I suppose it could be considered a tourist trap, but you could say that about every place down where between May and September. And the food is great, so, whatever. No matter what time we go, it’s always an hour wait. But that’s not so bad, because after they inform you of the wait time, the hostess says, “But you can go up to the bar and we’ll come get you when the table is ready.” Gosh, go upstairs and drink beer and have a great view of the ocean. Yes, that sucks.

So we went upstairs and knocked a few back and watched the waves and Nascar and TdF, and in a near Rainman move, my brother closed out the bar tab a mere 2 minutes before the hostess arrived to take us to our table.

I have had a craving for clams casino all week, so a half dozen of those was a given. Fresh clams, sweet peppers, butter and bacon. Tell me how that could possibly go wrong? Oh – it can’t. We were also right under one of the a/c vents so coup was a must as well. The crab and lobster bisque is awesome. It’s think and creamy and tomato-y and just spot on. And then there were hushpuppies. Don’t think you can really go wrong with fried cornmeal and butter, either.

Little bro got the soup and the crabmeat in butter. I’d say it’s a classic rookies mistake of getting two insanely rich items, but I’ve made the same error myself many times. The crab in butter was great, too. I supposed it’s a good think I have a 5 mile run this weekend.

Matt – I didn’t get the oyster shot, but there is still plenty of time.

Tonight it’s Meridian 42, which in the past has been fantastic. I’m a tad concerned it’s been basically Mediterranean influenced seafood and such, and now they’re billing themselves as “Italiano” – which could mean new owners and/or management, or someone just decided that Italiano sounded a little less intimidating somehow. I’m hoping for the latter, as the couple items on the sample menu looked to be in the same vein as years past, and I really hope they haven’t “dumbed down” the food. If nothing else, they make a killer dirty Goose martini.

Makes you realize why the ancients were a nit in awe of them – they could actually *see* them.

But the jist of it was that I met Dicky Betts of the Allman Brothers Band.

In season, dogs aren’t allowed on the beach in Southern Shores.  (One neighborhood north, they are allowed year round.)  I understand why – in any given population, there is X% that don’t clean up after their critters.  In the offseason, in real numbers, that percentage is tolerable.  During the season, it’s not tolerable as far as this neighborhood is concerned.

Well, when we got back from dinner this evening and I took the pup out for his evening sojourn, we headed for the dune deck to just take a look at the surf in the near full moon.  Mox was having none of this “watching” stuff and headed down the steps to the beach.  I gave a wide sweep with the maglite to see if we had company.  Well, we were alone and I had all the necessary accouterments should cleanup be necessary, so off we went.

I know, I know – we shouldn’t have, especially since the local gendarmes here already have my name on file.  But Mox doesn’t know the difference between on and off season and when he’s here off season, he is perfectly behaved on the beach and tonight was no different.  We chased a bunch of ghost crabs and had a lovely walk under the moon and left nothing but doggie footprints.  (Which seem to be around every morning on the beach. so I’m fairly certain we’re not the only miscreants about.)

Have to say, he’s a pretty good tracker.  He’d get a scent of a nearby crab and would go nose down into the sand and well, if you didn’t know he was following the track of a crab, you’d think he was drunk for all the weaving and figure 8’s as he followed the scent until he caught up with the crab, which of course would immediately head for the water.  Undaunted, he’d just start looking for the next one.

He’s a pretty good beach dog for being bred for the wilds of Tibet.

I was down on the beach, on my stomach & propped up on my elbows reading a book and minding my own business when something went skittering under my chest.  I sit up and find myself face to face with the biggest, boldest sand/ghost crab I have ever seen.  And he was rather insulted that I had abruptly taken away his shade.  He spent some time on the towel, then under my chair, then back up around to my book again as if to say, “Whatcha reading?”

Couple more pics: