A Street-Car Named Delicious
I am not happy, ’kay. This has been one tough week for this poor working stiff. Allow me to elaborate. You see, on Monday I had my car rear-ended on I-275, only to then have it broken into the very next day at a convenience store parking lot over in Hyde Park (in broad daylight no less). Adding insult to injury, on Wednesday while heading east on I-4 the dump truck in front of me kicked up some pebble-sized projectiles that turned my windshield into a Rand-McNally road atlas. Aaaand finally this morning a very slow, unforgiving and never-ending train decided to cross SR 60 and unjustly prolong my commute with an ENDLESS supply of empty cargo cars...twice! (Oh yeah, I should also mention that over the course of this week my elderly mother was arrested in Ybor, a gator ate my teacup poodle dog, and I reeeeally bungled up the Multi-Fula account at work in epic fashion). Needless to say, I desperately need a break or I may not make it another day. Oh, if only I could find a comforting, serendipitous blast from the past to vanquish my troubles.
I find myself in Downtown Tampa cleaning up the mess from the Multi-Fula fiasco in hopes of salvaging what is left of my career. Around noon or so I decide to take a short respite from the corporate groveling in order to find something to eat. I feel the need to distance myself a little bit from the collective tomfoolery of the office, but I still recognize the need to stay within relative shouting range of my boss. Therefore, after removing the freshly issued parking ticket from my windshield, I jump onto Florida Avenue and head north to commence what I like to call my “Happy Place Expedition”- my quest for, as the French say, le warm et fozíe. My northward trek however quickly becomes tedious and unimaginative, so I decide to swing a left at Palm Avenue. I chart a course due west expecting to hit North Boulevard just up ahead and use it to make my way up to Columbus Drive.
Just one block before reaching North Boulevard however, something catches my eye. “Hold the phone!” I think to myself as I do a double take. I see a small one-story building painted a simple baby blue and standing solitary on its very own city block. Unassuming on its own, the building can easily be overlooked, but it is the lettering on the building that causes me to jerk my neck around in cartoon-like fashion. The dark blue lettering reading “Sea Breeze Devil Crabs” is striking, and it leaves me wondering if I might still be in bed, cocooned in my Bucanneer-themed bedding, dreaming of a cool autumn stroll down Seventh Avenue accompanied by Jose Gaspar and Henry B. Plant. “Who am I?” I wonder to myself. “What is life?” I ponder.
The sudden and violent honk from a fellow motorist alerting me to the ten car pile-up that I am about to cause jolts me awake to the realization that I am not dreaming, that I am very much awake, that I am Tampa Manny...and that I HAVE to check this place out.
Moments later I stand in line at this indisputable pillar of everything Tampa, slack-jawed at the promise of reliving a cherished experience from my youth: a Sea Breeze Devil Crab. While I await my turn at utter doughy, crabby, bread-crumby bliss, I allow my peepers the invaluable pleasure of the quaintness emanating from the trolley car sitting before me. I’m not sure where they got this authentic vintage trolley car from, but it adds a true measure of “thatswassup" to the experience of ordering some lunch. As I wait in line, I search Amazon in hopes of procuring a trolley of my own but come up short in my idiotic endeavor. Oh well, ‘ce la vie’ as they say in Zimbabwe.
When my turn at the window finally arrives, I approach a little hesitant and still gun-shy at the thought of what awaits my taste buds, but after recalling countless fond memories of dining at the original Seabreeze by the Bay Restaurant off of Causeway Boulevard, I grin wide and eagerly, and then I chuckle...with a snort.
Interestingly enough, I find so much to choose from on the menu that I can’t decide what to order. My immediate, short-term solution is to make a quick mental note of what I would order next time (and the next time, and the next time) before finally proceeding with a most conservative order for the time being. Having ordered a devil crab basket and a soft drink, I feel proud and overcome with a sense of heroic accomplishment, but then I chuckle goofily again...with an even louder snort.
Pleased with my choice and feeling jumpy with expectation, I take my place at one of two very cool wire spool tables- once used to spool wire, now brilliantly re-purposed for the eating comfort of us patrons. Sitting at a nearby picnic table under the shade of a large umbrella, a sweet grandmother type coyly enjoys an enviable Cuban sandwich that has been skillfully pressed to golden perfection. Maintaining a stoic demeanor, I nod politely to her and turn away slowly so as not to disrupt her meal with my excessive and unruly salivating.
As I wait for my food patiently, I scan about and watch North Boulevard as she arches her back high above the Hillsborough River. Catching slivers of the river from around the bridge’s structure and through the surrounding foliage, I can see the placid waters glistening peacefully. Choosing to explore a little more, I circle towards the rear of the building while admiring the shade provided by a colossal grand oak tree and its long, burly branches that hang above the trolley car. From here I can see an old brick building to the southeast of me that sits unoccupied, but that used to house the Tampa Armature Works. The commercial grade chain link fence erected around the property clearly hints at grand reno plans for the historic building. Whatever those plans may be, I am convinced that the beautiful sight of my beloved Tampa, prominently visible from where I now stand, will only be enhanced. Chew on that Yeehaw Junction!
I turn to congratulate the latest incarnation of Seabreeze for its’ envy-inducing view and long history of culinary contributions to the area only to notice that I am too late. It’s obvious from the various awards and accolades showcased in its triple sided front window that others have already expressed the same admiration for the current manifestation of this longstanding Tampa institution. I decide to continue around towards the front and head towards a compact fish market also available on-site. “Almost ready,” says the lady in the trolley. At the fish market, customers are picking up fresh crab, shrimp, mullet and other fish. Bless their do-it-yourselfer little hearts. Sadly, I’m more of a do-it-for-me-and-throw-in-some-hushpuppies kind of guy. Suddenly, the sweetest voice human ears have ever heard rang out to tell me that my order was ready for pick up. On my way back to the front window I pass by a salvaged ship anchor sitting in a landscape bed. I trust this choice in decor symbolizes this establishment’s intent to stay for a while.
I savor my devil crab delicately and patiently and while I employ every bit of will power and self-restraint that a mere mortal being can muster up in order to keep from shoving the whole thing in my face all at once, I take a moment and reflect. Then, quite suddenly, I crack a happy smile to vanquish my troubles at last. For I may not be thankful that my car was rear-ended, or broken into. I may not appreciate my wind shield being cracked, nor do I applaud my elderly mother’s arrest. I don’t enjoy getting a parking ticket and I surely don’t celebrate single handedly blowing the Multi-Fula account out of the water. But I do thank my lucky stars for finding this 80 year local landmark still standing and dishing out this yummy, soul pleasing food. Thank you Sea Breeze Trolley Café.
Editor’s Note: Sadly a figurative storm blew through and snatched the ship anchor up in it’s winds, dragging the trolley along with it. Alas, Sea Breeze Trolley Café is no more.