A Fabulous Saturday

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Don’t you love those days when you have no real plan or scheme but it turns out to be one of  the best days you’ve spent in a long time?

Mr. R. and I spent a fabulous afternoon at the beach yesterday.  We were in no rush or hurry, sleeping in and getting started slowly.

“Do you want to go to the beach?” Mr. R. asked.

“Yes, let’s,” I agreed.  We spent a few minutes gathering up all the essentials: towels, chairs, umbrella, cooler, sunblock, tossed it all in the truck, and headed east.

Twenty minutes later we were cruising up US 1 in Juno Beach north of the pier and south of the Jupiter Inlet.  Mr. R. spied a vacant parking spot and began to attempt to parallel park, soon realizing that the F150 was not going to fit.  We were in luck, though, because the family parked in front of the vacant spot were preparing to leave.

We watched in an amused, superior sort of way as the husband spazzed at his wife about his towel or some other irritation.  It was then that Mr. R. realized he knew the guy from work and said hello.  We exchanged a few pleasantries before they sheepishly drove away and we achieved the prime parking spot directly adjacent to the beach access.  Score!

Once on the beach we set ourselves up in a nice spot sufficiently spaced away from other beach-goers and we proceeded to continue our relaxing day.  Although it was hot, the gentle breeze and calm clear water made for an absolutely perfect beach day.  My only complaint was the excess of seaweed junking up the sand, as evidenced in the photos.  The calm water created what I like to call a “noodle day,” meaning that the water is calm enough to take a pool noodle out and simply float peacefully, which is what I did.

Confidentially, I harbor an irrational (or not) fear of something toothy biting me in the ocean so I never go out in the water alone.  As Mr. R. loves me more than life itself, he is exceedingly understanding of my terror and (mostly) stays with me in the water.  Having spent our first half hour relaxing on the sand, we entered the water and reveled in simply floating and bobbing on the gentle swells.

At one point a couple of guys just up the beach from us headed out onto the water on their kite boards and before we knew it, said kite boards were crisscrossing over our heads, which was cool, if a little scary.  Once back on the beach we took some pictures, but we have determined that we need a GoPro to make our lives complete.

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After returning to the sand to dry out a little, we realized that we had no idea of the time and couldn’t care less.  It was that kind of day.  Ultimately, we must have spent three or four hours on the beach, finally deciding to leave because we were ready to find something to eat.

Mr. R. began to name potential sources of sustenance.  Nothing struck my fancy until he mentioned C.R. Chicks.

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C.R. Chicks is a local company (duh, have we met?!) which now has seven locations from Jupiter to Boca.  Their flagship location is on Northlake Boulevard in Palm Beach Gardens, which is where we went.  The company is called C.R. Chicks because the owners are Chris Sallen and Rick Davis, but it’s also a pun because you can actually ‘see their chicks’ in the front window, roasting over a wood fire.  The smell is heavenly!  I can highly recommend anything on their menu.

The Chicken Breast Sandwich is amazing.  It’s served on their fresh-made bread with lettuce and tomato so delicious, I’ve often thought that I could enjoy the lettuce and tomato sandwich even minus the chicken.

However, yesterday Mr. R. opted for the homemade chicken pot pie (which was so huge he ended up taking half of it to work today for his lunch) while I had the “Smokie.”

When you go to C.R. Chicks, you’ll soon realize that everything on the menu has a nickname.  The “Smokie” is listed on the menu as “Smoked Chicken with Penne Pasta.”  How do you describe it?

You’d probably start with OMG.  You have large chunks of smoked chicken breast, tender penne pasta, an amazing tomato basil cream sauce, and shredded romano cheese to tie it all together.

Don’t forget to get a loaf of their bread, because burying your face in the plate after all the pasta is gone so you can lick off all the remaining sauce is just tacky.  Or so I’ve been told.  Whatever!

Even though it was not a date night per se, Mr. R. and I had a wonderful time spending time together, and I suppose that’s the point.  I can’t wait for the next adventure.

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