Tomorrow, our trash will REEK.

I live on a peninsula--actually, a peninsula of a peninsula (and on the very bottom of it, too). I can reach open water by driving ten minutes in nearly any direction--or by walking, if I travel south. We have beaches galore, palm trees to spare, and even our weeds look like tropical flowers. These are some of the blessings of living in Florida.

On the other thand, we also have alligators, bugs that can swallow a small dog, the highest number of batshit crazy people per capita of any state in the US (1), and zero fucking ability to grow produce with any flavor. The water, though, is teeming with delicious life-forms: mahi, snapper, hogfish (3),bonefish, cobia, mullet, pompano, amberjack, sheepshead, swordfish, and, of course, grouper (which should just be polite already and swim around with a good roll and a slice of provolone wrapped around it).

I offer all this by way of noting how incredibly difficult it is to find simply cooked seafood in Florida restaurants. Everyone has a grouper or mahi sandwich and some sort of Cajun-spiced blah-fish (tilapia, mostly), but the fresh fillets described on menus are reliably salmon or tuna--neither of which thrive in warm Florida waters. Why are we flying or trucking in fish, especially frozen fish, when we could step out our front doors and rustle up some fantastic grub? Don't want to offer "sheepshead," ye timid restaurants? Call it something else: if Bonefish Grill can re-brand tilapia as "California longfin," you can christen a weird-sounding or pedestrian fish however you like. Just go local, for god's sake!

No doubt tired of my constant bitching about the lack of decent seafood at area restaurants, Dorian disappeared to the grocery store last night and came home laden with clams, mussels, lobster tails, and snow crab legs. (8) We went with the classically French technique (4) of cramming it all into a pot with some other stuff and boiling it. I picked everything out, piled it into a bowl, doused it in garlic butter, patiently waited for Dorian to photograph it (5), and then dug in.

--Scrub some small red potatoes; pile into giant pot.
--Roughly chop a sweet onion; add to pot with some fresh thyme.
--Throw a coupla cloves of garlic in there, too--and some lemons.
--Fill with a few quarts of water; cover; boil 10 min.
--Meanwhile, clean a shitload of shellfish. (6)
--Cram the shellfish into the pot; break 2 corn cobs in half; add.
--Cover; boil 5-7 min.

Side project:
--In small shallow saucepan, melt 1 stick butter.
--Add at least 1 T minced garlic, juice of 1/2 lemon, some white wine.
--Add pinch of red pepper flake, sprig of thyme, a little salt.
--Melt together over low-ish heat while seafood boils. (7)

Seriously, this took like 20 minutes and about $30. We ate like kings: gluttonous, greasy, crab-splattered kings. Seafood restaurants have NO EXCUSE for not offering something this cheap, easy, and fucking fantastic. Get on the ball, Conch Republic! Do you hear me, the Hurricane? What's up Backfin Blue? Even you, Keegan's--step it up!

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(1) Carl Hiaasen once said that only Floridians understand that his novels are non-fiction. (2)

(2) Still skeptical? I discovered this morning that the "balloon boy" family recently relocated here. We didn't even notice.

(3) Hogfish are an excellent exemplar of the Ugly Fish Taste Especially Delicious rule. If you've never had it, you need to hightail it down to the Keys and git yerself some. It makes grouper taste like canned tuna.

(4) Not. This was an American-style seafood boil, all the way.

(5) Yeah, right. I was HUNGRY. You know I whined and wheedled and sighed loudly the entire time.

(6) No, I'm not listing them again. Did you not read up there? I already told you what we had. You could also throw in shrimp or some firm fish chunks, like cod.

(7) This is when I had my Genius Moment for the night. Rather than throwing the clams and mussels in the steamer pot with the other seafood, I poached them in the garlic butter, covered, for about 6 minutes. OH-EMM-GEE this was a good idea. The shellfish were buttery, tender, and garlicky, while the butter melded with their brine--which payed off hugely when I tipped the butter over the giant bowl of potatoes, onions, corn, crabs, and lobster.

(8) Yes, I realize that none of these things qualify as "local seafood," but my point here is that seafood restaurants never just serve steamed or grilled seafood--if you can even find a shrimp, it's fried. Crab? Forget it. At Hooter's, maybe.