When my husband and I got married, it had been a somewhat spontaneous adventure. An opportunity presented its self, which fell through, and we decided to make it happen anyway.
We’ve been together seven years, and had talked about it off and on. There was just always something out of place at the time that made it infeasible.
It was the third for both of us, and I didn’t need a big, fancy affair. I did have one condition though – it had to be a beach wedding. My first wedding was a justice of the peace affair and my second a big, nightclub shindig. I’d always wanted a beach wedding (the previous two times, I had little say), and this time I was going to have it.
It seemed like the universe was against us, but we finally made it happen May 03, 2015. While Brighton Beach in New York was my first choice, San Diego is a relatively short drive from us and Ocean Beach held some sentimental meaning for us both.
California, here we come!
I had been sick with some kind of flu bug that had been going around, the entire week before. I started feeling better the day before we departed, but no sooner than we got there, I was hit with the second wave.
I spent pretty much the entire first day in bed or the bathroom throwing up. We finally found something to calm my stomach enough to get some sand, sun and a ring on my finger…but that’s coming up.
The day of, the weather turned chilly and while we spent most of it out on the beach, our sunset wedding was ruined by the storm passing through. We got the deed done, but it was an abbreviated ceremony due to the icy ocean winds, impending skies and 10-15 foot waves hitting the barriers in spots.
I got my husband and that’s all the truly mattered.
As I’ve mentioned before, I call myself vegetarian, but I’m actually pescatarian; I will occasionally eat seafood. And, when you’re right next to the ocean, eating the freshest seafood available?
Bet your ass I’m indulging.
The first time Craig and I visited Ocean Beach, we stumbled upon South Beach Bar and Grill. That’s where my love on Ono or Wahoo (same fish, two names) was born. Meaty like chicken, but cleaner tasting and absolutely delicious! I had to have Wahoo!
The first day though, we ended up at Jimmy’s Famous American Tavern because it was so close to our hotel. The Calamari was so soft and tender, it was, as we say, like “buttah”. The portions were huge and we had the best Pokè outside of Hawaii. Pokè, if you’re not familiar, is a raw fish salad of sorts, similar to Ceviche (which is, in my opinion, more of a Hispanic or South American flavor, where Pokè is a bit more Asian inspired).
We also found Jungle Java, which provided a fabulous cup of snickerdoodle coffee and the best Everything bagel I’ve had on the West coast. And, aside from the wild parrots (shit you not), a great view of the ocean, a quaint and cozy place to sit and sip (they have a garden shop on the property, too) and an interesting mix of friendly staff and patrons.
What finally settled my stomach and got me out on the beach, you might ask?
I started craving them, and had more Bloody Marys than anything during the duration of our stay.
Now, I LOVE Bloody Marys, but I had to have them!
(I’ll tell you all about my adoration of Bloodys in a future blog. I do believe they have come to be my absolute favorite cocktail.)
I enjoyed the ones at South Beach so much more than those at Jimmy’s Famous – and the last day we were there, they started to recognize us walk in and had my order down perfectly!
Murphy and his stupid laws.
Before we headed home, we did check out Point Loma as well as La Jolla; makes me want to have hordes of children in the hopes one will become rich and send his/her eccentric mother to a care facility there.
That’s another blog.
For now, I wish you a happy Labor Day weekend, and this delicious recipe for Pokè , in case you want to be the star of whatever Labor Day soiree you might be attending.
From us to you, wishes for a safe, happy and fun Labor Day weekend!