Most girls hear the words "beach resort" and think bikinis, coconut oil and frilly, frippy summer novels. This girl hears the words "beach resort" and thinks frilly, frippy frozen daiquiris and buff, coconut-oiled waiters in teeny-tiny bikini bottoms.
Like most of my fantasies, the reality fell well short. Sure… it was a weekend at the Tradewinds, one of St. Pete Beach's destination resorts. But I'm Laura Fries, not Susan Lucci – the only way I get to hang out at a beach resort is if I'm at a software conference.
You get these nifty little faux-credit cards when you check into Tradewinds, plus a 20-percent-off "Vacationing Gourmet" card good for the restaurants and the beach bar. In conjunction, the two little cards work magic: it's play money! I arrived a little early for the conference, so I headed for the Flying Bridge, which epitomized the Tradewinds culinary experience: beach food, plus lots and lots of frozen drinks.
Island Escape, Gulf Stream, Rum Runner, Marvelous Mango, Bahama Mama: during my visit, I sampled quite a few. The drinks all started to taste the same after a while, but no one around me seemed to mind. Of course, most of the people around me were drinking while not wearing pants, a clear indicator that their judgment was impaired.
I scanned the provided brochure of restaurants at the Tradewinds. Most featured more of the same beach fare, with the same gamut of frozen beverages. Something didn't feel right. I was supposed to be living it up, pigging out. My new address was supposed to be 123 Gluttony Street, but it felt like slumming at 5678 Eh, Blah, Whatever Ave.
I headed down Gulf Boulevard, determined to at least get a six-pack out of the experience. I was glum until I spotted Agave Restaurant (no relation to the Agave in Atlanta, subject of a previous column). I headed inside, and here I found my nirvana. Here was the gluttonous experience I had been craving!
I lost no time in ordering a large margarita; blissfully, it tasted of lime, not chemical sweet-and-sour mix. A quartet of salsas danced their way to my table: a mild, tomato-based sauce, a spicy chili-powder dip, a tomatillo salsa that tasted faintly of chicken, and a healthy portion of my favorite: a chunky pico de gallo. Finally!
I was alone, so I shouldn't have, but I went ahead and ordered Queso Fundido as an appetizer. A spicy layer of fried chorizo sausage, topped with asadero cheese, briefly broiled in order to let the cheese melt, complete with the lovely, rust-colored grease that floats to the surface of the cheese, all blanketed in hot corn tortillas… oh, mama. No bikinis for me – pass the cheese please. In the spirit of luxury, I kept eating when they brought me my entree – camarones that I hoped would come bathed in garlic butter, Mexican Seafood style. Instead, they came to the table in a garlicky marinade. No matter – accompanied by some standard refried beans and rice, the dish was just what this Southwestern girl needed.
I finished off one margarita and then another, but even I couldn't finish all that food. I carried it back to the Sandpiper, the sister hotel of the Tradewinds, which looked like it had been decorated by a Golden Girl back in '88. Really – it even had a seashell-shaped lamp! I plunked my ass down on the couch and started in on that six-pack. Later on, I melted together the remaining cheese, beans and shrimp for a 3 a.m. snack that was totally kickass.
I was in and out of the Tradewinds for the next couple of days, eating hotel buffets of hot dogs and hamburgers, even taking a dinner cruise on the Gulf. But honestly, nothing tops the experience of that glorious queso fundido. From now on, when I think the words "beach resort," I'm fantasizing about sausage and cheese. If you want to interpret that as also meaning a buff, coconut-oiled waiter in teeny weeny bikini bottoms, well, hey… I won't stop ya.
After this week, All You Can Eat goes on hiatus while Laura works on the launch of our new website. In the meantime, you can catch her misadventures on her blog, at www.laurafries.com.
This article appears in May 18-24, 2005.