Culinary Contrarian: Finding the Best Grub

Captain Jack's restaurant, bar and hostel;
a Portobelo hot spot for yachties.

In ignorance, we turned to our Panama Lonely Planet Guidebook for guidance for a rare date night dinner out in Portobelo Panama. 

Mistake.

The last time, I eschewed the guide book’s advice and we ate better for it.

It was my birthday.  We were in Panama's Bocas del Toro; tourist central, awash in restaurants.  I wanted to be spoiled, a little.  It was a rare occasion; we were willing to splurge.  I even walked into the most highly rated restaurant of the bunch.  Its food was as beautiful as its patrons.  The waterside view was lovely.

It looked far too hip for me.  Contrived perhaps, like a good silicon boob job or fake teeth – nice to look at but nigglingly unauthentic.  Or maybe I just wasn’t in the mood for hip.

We weren't the only ones attracted to this
spartan BBQ cart in Bocas del Toro.

I wanted food that exploded with flavor rather than subtlety.  I wanted fireworks, not a soft sunset.  I wanted….

Street food!

In my prior walks through Bocas, I was disappointed by the closed food carts.  I saw only coconut water and smoothie stands open.  But rapacious no-see-ums and a dearth of safe dinghy docks kept us away at dusk and dark, when the carts were likely offering up their tasty treats.  We slicked ourselves down with deet, but were hungry and ready to eat.

As dusk approached, the bicycle-based food carts led the charge.  A slim, salt-and-pepper gent caught my attention.  His cart was essentially a charcoal grill.  He was making shish kabobs, slathered in a heavenly scented sauce.  “Two,” Wayne requested.  After all, we didn’t want to spoil our dinner.  Wayne paid $3 for the pair.

Smoky, sweet and spicy, the perfect BBQ sauce
slathered on generously.

They were good. Really, really good.   A little aria of flavor burst into song in our mouths, good.  They far outshone my desire for pampering. 

“Four more,” Wayne asked, gladly handing over $6 more dollars.  We devoured the kebabs joyfully and gave up our search for a restaurant, though Wayne did agree a rain check was in order.  I added the BBQ we split at Bocas del Toro marina later, while pleasant, still didn’t count as a rain check, even if it did serve a particularly yummy papaya carrot salad that begged deconstruction and re-creation.

Back to Portobelo...  I still was itching for my rain check and feeling uninspired about cooking that eve, a Saturday night. 

GTW poses with her Bocas del Toro "birthday kebabs."  One
of our best meals "out" by far, for the princely sum of $1.50 @. 

Captain Jack’s was highly rated, both by our guidebook and from other cruisers.  We lingered a bit at the colorful restaurant on the corner of the main drag, where we were to turn right and head up the hill to Jack’s.  It smelled good; smoky.  Its customers looked like locals.  My mouth watered a bit.  Wayne wondered if it was too risky a spot to order the octopus ceviche touted on its signs; it looked a bit dusty.  We walked past it, up to Captain Jack’s.

There, form trumped function.  Long wood tables with beautiful wood benches that were hard on the bum.  Lovely view overlooking the bay.  All the patrons were yachties or twenty something guests of Captain Jack’s hostel. One of the waitresses spoke only in English with a decidedly British accent.  I confess to being impressed the bathroom floor looked clean enough to eat off of, a level of cleanliness rare around here.

Captain Jack's prettily presented yellow calamari curry.  It was
as bland as Captain Jack's bench seating was uncomfortable.

Drinks were tiny.  Mojitos were still not an option. Service was slow.  Our steamed shrimp rolls arrived in the form of fried pork rolls.  The octopus ceviche was rubbery and overly sweet.  The small main serving of calamari curry… artfully presented, but bland.  Wayne took just a few bites, and stopped.  Two small Cuba Libres, appetizer and a small shared main and the total for our wholly unsatisfying meal was $41 – nearly a whole day’s cruising budget. 

“It sucked, Wayne pronounced.  I was also disappointed, though found it more bland, than bad.

“Our kebabs were far better,” he added, reminiscing about my "birthday dinner" in Bocas, and I whole-heartily agreed.  Next time, street food, or someplace more along the lines of the locals place on the corner we passed by with some reluctance.  It still smelled delicious as we passed it on our way back.

My nose knows… better than guidebooks, and better than other cruisers, who are perhaps more comfortable with food and atmosphere catered to their tastes than local grub.  As for me, the search for an appropriate rain check is still on.

Tonight, though, the night after our disappointing meal out we had kebabs, ala "Casa Journey."  Wayne and I made them together.  And they were good.

View of Portobelo anchorage from Fort San Fernando.

Location Location
We're now in Portobelo PANAMA (N09.21.872 W79.53.611), near Colon, Atlantic/Caribbean side entrance to the Panama canal.  We're on track for our canal transit, beginning February 13th, 2015.