My toxic trait is I continually claim I’m about to start blogging again and then proceed to not post anything for months. At least I am self-aware.
I was in Provincetown for a few days this past week. P-town is a beautiful town at the tip of Cape Cod. It’s full of good food, queer culture, and exquisite views of the sea. Unfortunately, it is not a highly accessible town.
One aspect that makes Provincetown difficult to navigate is how small the spaces are. Walk into a few shops along Commercial Street, and you better hope you don’t have claustrophobia. My concern comes from someone who lives in a large body, and I am constantly reminded of my body size while in P-town.
Despite its limitations, I always find ways to enjoy myself when in town. The top highlight of this trip was our dinner at Sal’s Place. A small (and I mean small) Italian restaurant on the West End of Commercial Street, Sal’s is a consistently high-rated place to dine in the Outer Cape. The business only accepts cash for payment and without a reservation, you should consider yourself lucky if you can grab a table during peak season.
We were fortunate to be sat at the first table inside the dining room. The restaurant packs so many tables and chairs in a fairly small space. I fear how it would have gone if I had to be in an inner part of the restaurant.
After sitting down, I looked around and thought, “You’d have to be thin to work here.” This is far from a judgment on anyone’s stamina or abilities. The spaces between tables are so narrow that I can’t imagine a person in anything but a small body physically fitting in this space in a way that would be necessary to serve the patrons.
I understand the restaurant’s goal is to maximize seatings per night for financial viability, but I couldn’t help but notice the trend of who might feel at home in this space and who wouldn’t in a town that is supposed to be a beacon of inclusivity.
Now for the food. The menu is refreshingly simple. Two hand-written menus will grace your table: one for food and the other for drinks. The seasonality of ingredients is apparent in the dishes. You won’t find a website for this restaurant. The above pictures of the menus are likely to be the best idea of what to expect
We started with the drink menu. My friends each picked out a cocktail (basil gimlet and an old-fashioned) while I was drawn to a glass of orange wine. Then came the appetizers. In one artfully plated dish sat Spanish octopus with cherry peppers, chickpea puree, and olives. The octopus was delightfully tender, a sign of a well-handled cephalopod. The restaurant divided our green bean salad into three plates for our other starter. Crisp green and wax beans were accompanied by greens, radish slivers, artichoke, and a healthy dose of Parmesan cheese. It’s currently peak season for these beans, and the quality shows.
Moving onto the main course, I was intrigued by the halibut. I don’t know why an Italian restaurant was serving quinoa, but I wanted the halibut badly enough to overlook the menu pairing. When I see a fish labeled as “seared” I expect to see some color on the fish, even if it’s skinless. I am unsure how this fish was prepared, but its pristine white flesh was left intact. It flaked apart at the gentlest touch and had a pure halibut flavor. Given the price of this fish, it is not something I get very often. What a lovely treat to enjoy a hefty halibut fillet.
The other two dishes pictured below are vongole (linguine with clams) and pepper tuna steak. Vongole, a classic Italian seafood pasta, is a comforting dish. Buttery pasta with briny clams and a burst of lemon, you can’t go wrong ordering this dish. The tuna steak was also an excellent choice. I typically prepare my tuna raw. It’s rare to find someone who can apply heat to a tuna steak and it remain so tender. With my halibut, it makes sense that you could eat it without a knife, but a tuna steak. We commented how we’ve never seen a tuna steak we could cut with a fork. It was like butter. The seasoning and sauce were also delectable.
I’d give the tuna steak and bean salad the awards for best dishes of the night, possibly of the whole trip. After our dinner, I walked down the West End of Commercial Street with a full stomach and happy heart because I spent an evening with two of my people, my chosen family, my favorite dining companions. I snapped some shots of the beautiful houses and flowers along the road and I was ready for bed. Until next time, P-Town.
Catie Cooks 