Fish and chips and vinegar... vinegar... vinegar...

Dear City Gay,

While Brad the Gay Gnome wasn't able to go to the coast with me, he was there in spirit, and if all goes well, he will soon make an appearance in a post later tonight or tomorrow. He even has an interesting addition to his wardrobe to add a little something to his appearances.

When a family trip was planned earlier in the year to go to the Oregon Coast, I began dreaming about eating nothing but clam chowder. I did eat my share during the week, but none of it was documented. I'm still figuring out how to not be too conspicuous while taking pictures in restaurants. Both times I took snapshots at meals, my family stared at me like I was a freak. However, they have been doing this since my grandma put lipstick on me when I was little, so I didn't think too much of it.

One gray morning, we headed to The Newport Aquarium where I stared at the shrimp and thought about how they would taste fried. I stared at this for awhile, but I didn't think about how it would taste:


Adjacent to the aquarium is the Rogue Brewery, which makes ales with "the finest hops and barley malt [and] free range coastal waters." Walking through a silo (perfect for howling like a wolf with a 2-year-old), one is immediately hit with the smell of brewing beer. For some the scent is intoxicating, for me it was a little nauseating. While I heartily enjoy drinking beer, the brewing smell is too bitter and sweet for my senses. The brewery's restaurant is sparse, but what it lacks in decor, it makes up with a nice selection of ale and coastal pub food. Because I'm weird, I opted for the Desolation I.P.A, a beer from Portland, rather than a locally brewed beverage. Some I.P.A.'s come off too strong, but this had a pretty moderate taste and went down smoothly with my fish and chips. The small cup of coleslaw that came with my lunch was bland and lacked the kick I enjoy in a nice slaw, but the fish was nicely fried, and the fish inside the breading was moist without being gushy.

(You'll have to ignore my dad's lumpy arm in the background, which makes the food less appetizing.)

After gorging myself on chowder and fish and chips, I moved to my other favorite seafood: fried shrimp. We ate at a restaurant connected to the Surftides hotel, where I ate enough shrimp and sourdough bread to make my stomach explode. The shrimp was tasty, though the breading was a bit too crispy, which caused some damage to the roof of my mouth. It's a small price to pay, I guess. I also had a piece of chocolate peanut butter pie to go, which made for a ridiculously rich breakfast the next morning. I wish I had photographed it before snarfing it because the chocolate ganache topping was good enough that I could have just eaten that without the peanut butter cream or the chocolate cookie crust.


Another staple for visitors to the Oregon Coast is Mo's, a restaurant with six locations that serves about 200 gallons of chowder a day. I ate plenty of chowder here, but I also indulged in fried shrimp and fries I ordered for dinner during our last night in Lincoln City. (Fried shrimp two nights in a row! Settle down, Country Gay!) The shrimp was meaty and crisp, just the way God intended shrimp to be eaten... or something.

The seafood extravaganza that is a trip to the coast has inspired my meal for tonight, a shrimp fettuccine alfredo, which Brad and I should be documenting for your viewing pleasure.

Keep on truckin',
Country Gay