Last Thursday was my dad’s birthday.
I’m not going to tell you which birthday it was.
Let’s just say that it rhymed with fixty jive.
What? You’re not allowed to reveal a lady’s age. My dad is no lady.
For his birthday dinner, he requested that the family drive to Davis Street Fish Market, just north of Chicago in Evanston.
Even though my parents love this place and one of my friends used to work there, I had never actually been to Davis St, which is a shame.
It’s real good.
Take for example, their bread basket.
The bread was warm and buttery and there were fresh potato chips underneath it.
They’re the kind of chips that make you want to go home and fire up your fryer to make another batch.
For the record, I don’t own a fryer.
For good reason.
To start, my mom, sister and I ordered the french fried calamari.
This was perfect calamari. You know when your order comes out too light and a bit undercooked? I don’t like it that way. These were perfectly golden brown and not too chewy.
And lucky for me, my sister won’t eat the tentacle pieces. I love those. They’re the best. Plus, eating them sort of makes me feel like mega shark.
My dad, of course, ordered oysters.
The man loves his oysters. Somehow I did not inherit that gene, which is probably good.
I’ll never fight him for his birthday oysters.
Once the entrees rolled out, I was too enamored with my crab cakes and garlic smashed potatoes to whip out my camera, but I assure you they were excellent.
The crab cakes were so huge and crab-filled that I only ate one and made a second meal out of the other. Note to self: That was a good call. Crab cakes save well. Always ask for a doggie bag.
Davis Street knows what they’re doing. The menu isn’t overly elaborate, but they do what they do well. And you get the impression from the clientele who are firmly planted in their regular bar stools that this is an institution that isn’t going anywhere.
Happy birthday, Dad! You don’t look a day over fixty sore.