Could the best food on Cape Cod be...Vietnamese?

We just returned from spending the better part of a week on the beach in Cape Cod. First-timers we, so yes, we visited the famous Sundae School in Dennisport (the pistachio ice cream with homemade hot fudge was to die for!). We went to Hyannis (though nary a Kennedy in sight). Had lunch at The Pancake Man. But we didn't get to Captain Parker's for the chowdah. Maybe next time.

The weather was perfect - a hodgepodge of sun and balmy breezes. The twins skipped off to  days of swimming, capture the flag and bead making at the Kids Club (free babysitting - genius!). Little Bitefuls paddled around in a pool that glistened with the oily sheen of many a-toddlers' SPF run-off. Man Mountain, under an umbrella, with hat and sunglasses to protect his transparent skin of Welsh ancestry, promised to keep one eye on her and one eye on his stack of the ever-fascinating Orthopedics Today (love a man who can vacation AND get through his "To Do" pile at the same time!). All family members accounted for meant that I could lose myself in Jay Rayner's excellent tome on food The Man Who Ate the World. Rayner utilizes his commendable writing skills to describe his quest for the perfect restaurant meal. What a fabulous adventure! So, on a much more bourgeois scale, I decided to do the same in Cape Cod. Why did I come about this grand idea? It must have been too much sun. Or free time. (Free time - what is THAT?!) True, finding a perfect meal in the land of fried clam strips and chowder may be a challenge, but I was determined. I live in southeastern Connecticut. We have Stonington scallops, day boat cod, and sweet and briny steamers, so could I find something better, different(?) on the Cape? People don't do tours of gastronomy on Cape Cod. Maybe an ice cream parlor trawl, but a restaurant crawl?

Hermit Crab Races

Our resort was chosen with the kids in mind - sandy feet in the bed - no problem - as long as they were tanned and tired, it was going to be a successful trip for them. I loved watching the girls wade into the water, looking for hermit crabs (but finding molting horseshoe crabs instead - infinitely more interesting!) I adored seeing their utter delight in finding tiny slabs of mother-of-pearl, and then laughing out loud when they asked me if their find would "make them rich". Twin 1 won at hermit crab races and placed in Limbo (my clever girl dug a pit under the limbo bar and was awarded a trophy for her moxie!). Twin 2 took younger children under her wing, played water games and built sand castles with them. Little Bitefuls spent hours in the pool, learning how to float on her back, kick her sturdy legs and blow bubbles. She too built sand castles (and subsequently wrecked them with wild chants of "Godzilla! Godzilla!" egging her on). These were summertime memories that would stay with me, moments of sun-kissed joy caught in my camera lens. But I wanted to make even more memories, and since my favorite ones are often of the culinary kind, I thought it would be fun to do it with dinner.


Not breakfast.


In general, the American people can be broken down into two categories - breakfast people (most), and non-breakfast people. Breakfast people will drive 45 minutes out of the way for the "authentic" diner that "Serves Breakfast All Day!". Non-Breakfast people can barely choke down toast before noon, find oatmeal clogging and an omelet oozing with cheese, gut-busting.  I like to romanticize my inability to eat pancakes more than once a week (a month?) by saying I eat in a more "European style". It makes me feel better to say that than to admit that I may be un-American in my morning eating habits. One caveat for the non-breakfast eaters: If you can have eggs scrambled in the french style, do so.
That said, I live with a very American breakfast eater. Man Mountain can not only eat breakfast for dinner 5 days in a row (if need be), but can actually make a mean breakfast too. His pancakes are excellent. Plus, he can shape them into a myriad of things - Star Wars light sabers among them. And he adds Ghiradelli Chocolate Chips...Wait...did I say I wasn't a breakfast person....?


So while I'd prefer an espresso, (or several bites of leftover spaghetti bolognese from the fridge) for breakfast, the troops needed to be legitimately fed before a long day in the sun. Therefore, we decided to do one of those "Semi-Inclusives" where we got breakfast in the resort's restaurant each day. The food was standard fare, omelets, frozen sausages, undercooked bacon, excellent toast, almost decent home fries, heavily dusted with paprika. Twin 2, who tends towards taking after her mother in the non-breakfast eater category, stuck with a carb-drenched breakfast of cereal AND toast. Twin 1, who veers towards the serious sweet tooth and will choose anything that has the word "chocolate" in the title, ordered chocolate chip pancakes on a daily basis. Man Mountain tried to keep breakfast protein-rich - omelets, eggs, ham. Little Bitefuls ate french toast. Drenched in maple syrup. (Maple syrup that I had to buy on our very first day and carry around in my purse like a flask of gin because NOT ONE RESTAURANT WE WENT TO SERVED REAL MAPLE SYRUP.)


So, Little Bitefuls ate french toast every morning drenched in real maple syrup. 


And ketchup.


Yes, ketchup.


Hey, she was quiet. And she ate. And in 1980, the FDA (or some such governmental wing) declared ketchup a VEGETABLE. And again, she was well-behaved. Little Bitefuls may have looked like the antagonist in a slasher flick at the end of her meal, but nothing that a few swipes of a wet wipe or a dunk in the ocean wouldn't clear up. Our breakfasts at the Cape may have lacked culinary prowess, but they provided sustenance. And at least they didn't provide any memories of bad behavior.


Since breakfast as a gastronomic feast was out, then how about lunch? August in New England is ripe for fresh lobster rolls in a glistening, lemony, mayonnaise with bright flecks of chives and parsley. I bet I could find a delicious lunch on the Cape!


Day one, reality hit.


Try dragging a wet, wriggling, 35 pounder out of a pool with a gently voiced request of "Let's indulge Mommy's culinary quest by driving for 45 minutes in clogged traffic to sample what has been labeled as 'The Best [insert food item here] on Cape Cod!'". Yeah.......nope! Any noontime victuals we had were hastily slopped together in the dimly lit, sand-strewn motel room: soggy bread, shelf-stable peanut butter, generic strawberry jelly. Necessary fiber from white cheddar dusted rice cakes. Lovely green grapes, though, kept cold in the mini-fridge. Biting into the crisp skin and releasing currents of their chilled juice, sweet, icy and perfect in the early afternoon heat. Mini Twix bars provided a hint of sweet relief - a reward after a long, hot morning. But my dream of delightful lunchtime nibbles was merely that - a dream.


So, dinner, then?


Our first night, overloaded on chilled rose, we decided to try the resort's Bar and Grill. Definitely NOT "The Best [insert food item here] on Cape Cod". However, two more plastic cups of wine later, and I *did* enjoy the fried dough. This carnival classic, apparently Italian in provenance, was a "specialty". It was light, hot, not too oily, and coated with powdered sugar. Better than the fried dough I had had at any street fair. As the sun set, Man Mountain and I sat on beach chairs in the sand, munched on the doughy remnants, and watched as our trio danced to a local cover band. I may not have had the best meal, but it was a great summer night!


Our second night, the girls and I got dolled up in sundresses and lip gloss and the family hit the strip (in this case, Route 28), in search of a memorable meal. We had met another family with three daughters out on the beach. The Dad was wistful because his three were all teenagers and this was their last family vacation. He regaled us with stories about their Cape Cod adventures. Because I am also known to overshare family stories, we bonded, and before I knew it, I asked him for some restaurant advice. I should have known better. His favorite food vacation moments revolved around indoor pool snack bars at motels off-season. Mine include wine lists and menus in two languages, so we were most likely to be on different pages when it came to gastronomy. But because when when my mouth isn't eating, it is most likely talking, I asked him for a dinner recommendation. And then, because I have a serious Pollyanna complex, I FOLLOWED his advice. Off we went to an Italianesque (Italian-American?) restaurant. We were on early bird hours since we have a toddler, so we were seated immediately. Aforementioned Dad had suggested the garlic bread. We ordered it. Remember Dino, Fred Flintstone's pet dinosaur? He would have had trouble eating it. I wanted to sneak into the kitchen just to see what the loaf of bread had looked like before they cut it. I think Pepperidge Farm makes a frozen version of said bread called "Texas Toast" as in "Everything is bigger in Texas" Toast. The soups were corn and shrimp chowder, tasty, but thick, and accented with dots of red pepper, and a decent minestrone. The house salad had waxy olives, sweet bermuda onions, zesty pepperoncini, wilted iceberg, and a cloyingly sweet vinaigrette. Ick. The spaghetti bolognese tasted like chili powder (again, I wonder if the chef was from the southwest, and I mean El Paso, Texas, not Naples, Italy). Man Mountain's lasagna was the size of a small puppy, heavy on the dried oregano and AGAIN chili powder. The mini pizza was a stand out only in the fact that it had real mozzarella on it and the crust had some chew. We avoided dessert. Man Mountain and I rated it a step below Olive Garden. And we try to avoid Olive Garden.  Two nights in and my grand idea of finding a perfect meal on the Cape was quickly losing steam.

I needed to rethink my goal. We were having a wonderful time all day. I was living vicariously through Jay Rayner's book by planning my hypothetical Parisian food tour, getting a great tan, and having a terrific time with my family. Was I going to let my culinary disappointment infringe on those memories? I thought I would give it one more night. We had been to Sundae School and while the college boys with walkie-talkies directing traffic in the parking lot slightly marred the quaint visual of the little ice cream shop, the creamy goodness of the homemade ice cream made up for it. I had made at least one good food memory. Could my luck be changing?


Yes!


Day three brought us a palatable dinner at a Lower Cape behemoth. It was one of those places that could host a wedding...with 700 guests. We were starving from a day in the sun and motel room lunch, and ordered shrimp scampi (colossal, chewy, but sweet garlic flavor), lobster bisque (pretty good, but Flanders Fish's is better) and prime rib (seasoned well, cooked perfectly medium-rare - who knew?). Escargot was served in portobello mushroom caps, only sprinkled lightly with garlic. I missed the oozing, hot parsley-flecked and buttery sauce that normally hides in the snail shells, begging to be sopped up with crusty slices of baguette. The baked cod and scallop duo was over-capered, the salty, vinegar-laced flavor completely masking the fish. I scraped the mushy breading and capers off to the side, and enjoyed the scallops and cod for they were both cooked well. The calamari, a usual favorite with the trio, was the only inedible dish. Previously frozen and achingly rubbery, the coating was soggy and the dipping sauce was clearly Ragu Pizza Quik from a jar. The service was great.  Side note: Everywhere we went on the Cape, the service was friendly and lively. Cape Cod must employ the entire Eastern Seaboard of summering college students! Our trio loves anything "teenager" and was smitten with every suntanned and sandy-haired waiter or waitress. Most were smitten back, so service went quite smoothly. Dinner, while not one for the record books, had been the best so far. Off to Hyannis for a Kennedy sighting, or at least a decent coffee and dessert!


Finding non-instant coffee in any seasonal location is a crapshoot. And finding coffee we like is even trickier. Man Mountain and I drink gallons of the liquid stuff daily, and Blue Bottle roasts some pretty excellent beans. But espresso is still the grande dame by which all coffee is measured. We were in for a treat and then some at Caffe Gelato Bertini.

Tom Dott, who wrote about Caffe Gelato Bertini in his article "Cape Cod Ice Cream" for Edible Cape Cod stated: "Sisters Alessandra and Susi Bertini of Florence, Italy have created a visual and culinary feast one block off of Main Street, Hyannis, on Pearl Street. What’s the difference between gelato and ice cream? Ice cream is based in cream and includes 10-18 percent fat and averages 250 calories per serving. Gelato is made with whole cow’s milk and has only 4-8 percent fat, and half the calories. Alessandra and Susi refuse to cut corners; the gelato at Caffé Gelato Bertini is truly made from scratch—no base here. They will not give out any specifics besides the basics—sugar, milk, etc.—which are frozen while slowly being churned to break up forming ice crystals. That’s another difference, ice cream is churned at faster rate, adding more air into the mix, which creates the texture that you’re accustomed to. The end result for the slower mixed gelato is a denser and creamier product." And it sure was! We tried Espresso, Blueberry (made with gorgeous local berries), Chocolate, Vanilla and Pistachio. Each flavor was better than the next. Dense, complex, sweet, but not achingly so. What made the gelato so good is that it truly tasted of what it was supposed to be: The blueberry was a rich, purple hue, bursting with the flavor of the ripest New England blueberries imaginable. The espresso tasted like a frozen LavAzza latte - creamy and rich. The chocolate was smooth. It didn't have chalky undertones. It melted in your mouth like a square of dark chocolate. The vanilla was. There was no synthetic vanillin flavor, it tasted just like the first whiff you get when you open a bottle of real vanilla extract. The hot espresso and latte we had was fantastic! There was a rich coffee flavor, without a hint of bitterness. The milk was warm and frothy. Caffe Gelato Bertini is now owned by the lovely Cindy and Tom Duby, who keep to the same traditional methods that were installed by the Bertini sisters. They were friendly and kind and patiently answered all my questions on flavor profiles! They believe whole-heartedly in what they do, and we could tell. Our little family sat on the white painted bench, people-watching, savoring each spoonful and sip until we were satiated. Another good food memory made on the Cape.


And the winner for best dinner on the cape...Thuan Loi.


Thuan Loi is a Vietnamese restaurant, that looks like a little cape house, where Mom cooks in the kitchen with Son, Dad runs the front of the house with Daughter, and Grandson greets patrons warmly, and with a squirt gun. The food is homespun, and absolutely delicious! The beef pho was fresh, with thin sliced rare beef brisket swimming in an oxtail broth, homemade noodles. The cilantro, basil and star anise aroma of the soup peppered the room as we slurped it greedily - (Did I mention that this was take-out?! And that it was still hot?) The fresh spring rolls (also known as salad rolls) had the crunch and bright flavor of fresh mint sprigs and thai basil and the shrimp were steamed to perfection. The vermicelli binding was soft and the nuoc mam dipping sauce was sweet and sour and spicy, all at once. Vietnamese-style lo mein with marinated pork, flash cooked with peanuts and nuoc cham (fish sauce) was both savory and sweet, marrying the bright flavors with a bit of rice vinegar and pickled vegetables. The trio feasted on sticky rice and chicken in a ginger, garlic, basil broth with broccoli and seared beef with steamed snow peas in a sweet soy broth, with chili and garlic undertones. It had the familiar flavor profile that the girls love - soy, ginger, garlic, but with fresher, brighter elements - fistfuls of just-picked herbs - thai basil, cilantro, mint and fresh squeezed lime. It was so delicious and special, because it felt like food cooked for us by a neighbor, not a tired chef who churns out 200 portions of prime rib a night. The family who runs Thuan Loi obviously takes great pride in the homemade food that comes out of their kitchen. And we could feel that. And we felt very full. Not the MSG-laden full of some lesser-quality chinese take-out joints, but happy full. Thanksgiving dinner full. We had just eaten our best meal on the Cape.


Addendum: A perfect snack: A close third in our culinary adventure (maybe a tie for second?) is Timmy's Roast Beef. Timmy's is a sandwich shack on Route 28. On one of the days we were in Cape Cod, we did some distant relative visitin'. Missed lunch, so we needed a late afternoon snack. I try not to frequent restaurants that only do take-out, or have color photos of their food in neon lights above the cash register, or even have clever names, for that matter.  But when I saw Timmy's Roast Beef, something called out to me. This place was run down, but had a full parking lot. And it screamed of the deep South, not New England. There was not a single fish item listed on the menu. Timmy was running the joint. And he looked like he could cook. Each forearm were the size of my toddler, and in one of them he held a gorgeous, rare, hunk of roast beef. He gently laid it down on the slicer and began slicing the meat - paper thin, juicy coils of rare roast beef . This was a real locals-only place. Everyone who came in shouted his/her order: "Super Beef - extra, EXTRA sauce. Onions", or "Small, hot peppers, horseradish". Timmy's wife, 80 lbs. soaking wet, came over and took pity on me. "We make the horseradish sauce from scratch. And I'll throw in a large barbeque sauce - try it. You'll see." She did, and we did. We ate the sandwiches in the car, and Man Mountain and I just looked at each other and didn't have to say a word. Good Lord, was that a good sandwich. Maybe the best roast beef sandwich we had ever had. But it was the onion rings that won us over. The onions were hand cut from a large Vidalia right in front of me and looked like they weren't even coated. But once out of the oil, they had taken on a lovely, light-golden brown, wafer-thin crust. Hot, crunchy, thin-cut, seasoned beautifully. No need for any condiments ate all. Eaten straight out of the paper bag in 2 minutes flat. Worth the 2.5 hour drive alone.


So, my trip ended on a high note. Did I find a perfect meal? No. I've got high standards. My Mom is the best cook I know, and I still haven't had escargot in Paris or bolognese in Bologna. Did we find delicious ice cream, sensational gelato, excellent roast beef, the best onion rings we have ever had and sublime beef pho - you bet. Did we have a wonderful family vacation? Absolutely! Will I go back - you bet! Although I may get around to trying the fried clams next time to see what the fuss is all about!


BTW - I did notice that my three favorite eating spots do not have websites. Maybe it is because they are too busy making good food to maintain an RSS feed. But here are the addresses for all three. 


Caffe Gelato Bertini
20 R Pearl Street
Hyannis, MA


Timmy's Roast Beef
198 Route 28
West Yarmouth, MA


Thuan Loi
1300 Route 28
South Yarmouth, MA