La Jolla. Now there's a beach community I could enjoy. Undoubtedly pretentious and swarming with flirty housewives, but upscale, classy and clean nonetheless. A pretty cove, clear blue water, and white frothy foam crouching up along the shore as a product of surging waves. Hoards of roly-poly, grunting seals packed flipper to tail while sunbathing on mammoth rocks, while picnicking women in rather large floppy hats did the same.
And then there was a late lunch on the Ocean Terrace at George's alongside La Jolla's creme de la creme, accompanied by ocean views as far as the eye could see. What was on my plate? Farro salad with grilled zucchini, asparagus, roasted beets, cherry tomatoes, red onion, kalamata olives, marinated feta, mint, parsley and basil. Light and refreshing, corresponding with the way I felt about being in that lovely and pristine seaside town after the previous day among SoCal beach bums.
No comments:
Post a Comment