There’s one rule that rings true for every beach lover: Beach food is fantastic. Whether it’s a burger or a side of fish and chips, I haven’t met a beach shack food joint that doesn’t serve up the tastiest, most fulfilling food I’ve ever scarfed. The secret is, it’s usually not the food that’s great; you’re just ravaged after a day at the beach. Plus, when you inhale your food, you generally don’t taste it so much. So evolved my love of beachside venues, and in particular Neptune’s Net in Malibu.
“The Net” is near the Ventura County line, but technically it’s Malibu, so it’s not too far and therefore wasn’t too much of a stretch to convince the husband to take us on a Sunday drive—which would just happen to wind up at The Net.
Lisa Simpson, of the show The Simpsons, would argue the merit of the Sunday drive in this time of ecological footprints, but she can go hug a tree. I recycle, ride my bike, and don’t eat meat (I’m going to have to insist that fish is not a meat), but once in a great while in this time of recession and fiscal frugality, a Sunday drive is a great distraction. So we drove, checking out the bathrooms—I mean beaches—of Pacific Coast Highway.
WARNING: Drinking a Rockstar energy drink prior to embarking on a Sunday drive will cause you to pee like a racehorse. It can also result in your children complaining about the number of bathroom breaks you need to make in such a short amount of time. You will also lose any leverage you had over your children and the bladder shrinkage they experience on any subsequent road trips.
After three bathroom—I mean leg-stretching-—breaks, we arrived at The Net.
If you’ve passed it on the road, you may not have noticed it at all. Established in 1958, the restaurant doesn’t look like anything special. An ample patio area holds a diversity of diners taking in the killer view of the beach. The mix is loud with tourists, bikers, and families with kids. If you buy into the idea that atmosphere is more than just elegant décor and artfully arranged food, then you get the concept.
It’s all about coming together with other people who like to drink a beer, have some fish tacos, and sigh in contentment at realizing how fortunate they are to be on the California coast.
Unfortunately, kids aren’t really down with the whole drink a beer and stare at the ocean vibe. So after he finished eating, my 2-year-old Sebastian began to pace the aisles, which, after taking in the bustling activity and number of people also hopping from table to table mingling with friends, we thought would be OK. Jake and Chase were charged with following Sebastian as he walked back and forth. And this worked until Sebastian caught on to the idea that he was being tailed.
“He’s playing dead,” Jake hollered.
A crowd at a nearby table started laughing. “He’s playing dead,” I could hear them repeat. And I bolted. I literally jumped from my bench without touching the ground, hurdled two tables (those hamstring exercises are totally paying off), landing Wonder Woman-style next to where Jake and Chase were wrestling with Sebastian. Sebastian was sprawled like a sea star in the middle of the walkway as diners walked over him, carefully balancing beers and trays of fish and chips.
I anxiously started apologizing to the nearby table. In fact, if I could have, I would have climbed up on the table wearing a sign that said “I’m sorry for my kid’s behavior; I promise we are leaving.” The woman at the table only laughed and said, “What are you apologizing for?”
I wanted to hug her and beg her to say it again so I could record it and keep it in my file of positive comments I peruse when I need to renew my faith that there are good people in the world. But I could only stare at her in disbelief and apologize again and hustle Sebastian back to our table.
We knew the Meltdown Countdown had begun, so it was time to go.
After a final bathroom break, we headed north back for a stop at Refugio Beach, just because. Whether it’s a long road trip or a short commute, we’ve vowed to always stop and smell the ocean breeze. Or else what’s the point of living in California?
Since having kids, Arts Editor Shelly Cone has learned to eat like a soldier at chow hall in order to finish a meal. Contact her at scone@santamariasun.com.
This article appears in May 27 – Jun 3, 2010.