Sunday greetings,

The Original Fish Company, Los Alamitos, Southern California
~ Photo, courtesy of myoc.com

We woke up to watered-down pea soup (foggy, but not dense) conditions outside.  Still, a novelty in these parts.  I am enjoying its rare appearance, but I admit, I am grateful that it is a once-in-a-while occurrence.  

I like light.  Bright, sunshiny days lift me.  Darkness and dankness, ahh, no thanks.

Yesterday I spent time sunning myself as I read a book.  I'm aware that if I do not take the time to catch some of its winter rays in the winter, although at an oblique slant with the sun sinking lower on the horizon, my spirits tend to sink with it.  

A good offense is better than after-the-fact defense. 

While I am hardly a victim to wintertime blues or blahs, I do not have the vim, vigor and joy of summertime, tending instead to be more sedentary and worse, with cravings for carbos. I imagine if I lived in New England, or the Pacific Northwest, or England, with its overcast sky above, the blustery winds and  trees barren of leaves, my inner fires would be barely burning and I'd weigh far more than I'd like.  

Thank goodness, I am here in Southern California, where a tropical plumeria like me can survive.  I shall count this as a gigantic blessing.

When the sun breaks through, I will take a walk with DH and the dog-kids... and seek out a huge green salad.

I am back.  

Since this morning, I have learned where the courthouse is, as we took a dry run to it, just in case I am called to serve on the jury this week.  

On the way back, I had a hankering for a green salad that was not to be denied.  A good one.  Nothing run of the mill. A really good one.  In these parts, there is only one place for that, and we headed straight down to it:  

The Original Fish Company in Los Alamitos
11061 Los Alamitos Blvd
Los Alamitos, CA 90720
Phone 714-960-2229  Fax 562-431-9544

There's always a line outside this restaurant-fish market.  Any season. Any day.  Any time.  For the last 18 years.  And yes, on today's Sunday afternoon, at 1:45 pm, there was a line.  But the maitre d' said it would be 15 minutes, and with the sun shining, having burnt away the morning's marine fog, the patio with its waterfall fountain, English garden and granite-topped tables with spacious wrought iron chairs beckoned invitingly.

We basked in the soft sunlight. It was really quite lovely to be unhurried. The wait is always worth it.  We admired the impeccable, blue sky, with nary a single cloud.

We were called in at 2pm, and lead to our favorite corner booth in the furthest corner of the restaurant.  Quiet and intimate.  We are not part of the "See and Be Seen" crowd.  The waiter, Mark, congenial, welcoming, attentive and skilled, took my order, Crab Louie, and DH's, The Seafood Sampler.    

I wish I had not left my camera at home, as the Crab Louie that arrived was a visual feast.  Next time, I have a hankering, I'll be sure to take a picture of it for you.  In the meantime, visualize a huge ceramic bowl shaped like a clam shell, lined with dark green butter lettuce, filled with assorted greens with red cabbage accents, rimmed with egg slices, green onion stalks, tomato wedges, baby corn, backed with fan-cut avocado slices and slices of cucumber and carrots, and topped with a generous plop of fresh Dungeness crab.  

As I oohed and ahhed over each bite full of tasty morsels, DH thoroughly enjoyed his fish filet and skewered large shrimp and fifty-cent-sized scallops, laced with bacon slices and accented with red and green peppers.  

Owned by Mr. Harold Rothman and his wife, Wendi (Mr. Rothman's parents once owned the Katella Deli across the way), this restaurant is an unqualified success,  a big favorite of us locals. Their quality is consistently excellent, and in spite of the crowds, the service is ALWAYS unharried and top-notch. Today was no exception, and we especially appreciated Mark's attentiveness and accommodating service. 

Spirits lifted and tummies happy, we returned home to our dogkids and we all took a walk in the sun around the neighborhood and park.  

A perfect Sunday in the 'burbs.

past    the present    future

who | what | archives | comments | photos