Then the salads came. Oversized white take-out boxes were opened to reveal a huge mound of frisée lettuce and little pieces of fried calamari scattered throughout. I generously drizzled my dressing on top (what tasted like soy, ginger, and lime, with some sort of spicy kick) and piled up my fork with the perfect lettuce to calamari ratio and shoveled it in my mouth. De-freaking-licious. Crispy, crunchy, cool, and refreshing. It was the perfect bite after a near perfect day at one of my favorite places on Earth. The beach.
As far as home cooking went this weekend, it was kept to a surprisingly drastic minimum. Turkey burgers and hot dogs were grilled one night and last night it was grilled steak sandwiches with a salsa verde mayo-mustard spread, grilled asparagus with truffle oil, grilled red onions, and a huge salad. None of which was consumed by me (read: hello, lunch) in my haste to hop on the 7:43 mad house, sardine-packed train back to New York. But two friends in tow, sitting atop our luggage with ice cold beers in hand, we managed to continue our long weekend of fabulousness even while on over-crowded public transportation.