Nostalgia

No, I didn't take this photo. But if I had had a camera back in the 80's, I could have. Anyway. Mo's. The. Only. Chowder. I. Like. Really. Not such a fan of the seafood. Although crab is some darn good stuff. But I will always eat Mo's chowder or the slumgullion (chowder topped with bay shrimp). In case you're wondering, it still tastes the same. Good. Pat o' butter floating on the top. Eating your weight in saltine crackers before the food arrives. Putting the saltine wrappers in the Mo's sand pails. It is all good. We went to Mo's twice on our last trip. Once with Cory's family at the Mo's in Lincoln City (or Taft as I like to call it) and once by ourselves when we took a jaunt down to Newport. Unfortunately we did not make it to the Mo's at Otter Rock - Mo's West they call it. It is my favorite one. Tiny. And I remember that Dad (always a sucker for slumgullion) would always let us stop there and order the family sized serving of it. In those days, they brought it to the table in a little cauldron, seriously, they did. They don't do that now - probably another good thing ruined by sanitation guidelines. Anyway, we'd sit on the benches shivering in our sodden sweatshirts and sweatpants (because we are hardcore Oregonian beach-goers) and we'd shove the saltines in like we hadn't eaten in a few days. We'd cheerfully drink our water with lemon and anticipate the bubbling goodness of a thick New England Chowder with little bay shrimp piled on top. Oh my goodness, it really doesn't get better than that. I told you I had a pretty ideal childhood - this is one of the reasons why. Thank you Mo. Thank you for keeping it simple. Thanks for the boatload of saltines. Thanks for making your restaurants the kind of place a guy with 5 or 8 kids could feel comfy dining in after a long day at the beach. And thanks dad, for being the kind of guy who didn't care what we were wearing, or if our hair had been combed in the last month. Who would cheerfully pack the car with his kids or anyone else's kids who wanted to go. Who pointed the camper van in the direction of the ocean and let us get as wet and muddy and sandy as we wanted. I'm still living on those memories.