No Whistle Stop Cafe in Rincon, but the Lazy Parrot ripped a page from Fannie Flagg's Southern fried novel with their fried green tomatoes with fresh crab and cilantro yogurt dressing ($12). The house salad has nothing to do with ice burg lettuce but does something luscious with arugula, candied walnuts, grape tomatoes, red onions, goat cheeses and mango mint dressing ($9).
Did I tell you I started off with a gingerita, a margarita with a snappy ginger flavor?
Rincon has nothing to do with the proper order of things, including prose, but I will continue with the entree--as memorable as sunrise on the Western side of the island. No burning solar entity making a grand entry, just a gentle glow that brightens as the coffee mug slowly empties.
Plantain Wrapped Marinated Salmon with Local Vegetable Mash and Medalla Creole Sauce ($18) That's all. Salmon wrapped in a leaf. The creole sauce made it memorable.
The dessert is "dessert of the day," and we were too satisfied to remember to ask. Dessert in Rincon is the sunset, sometimes finishing with a flash of green. I usually finished with a mint mojito, a dependable green floating in rum and lime juice and sticking to ice cubes like seaweed. We never saw the famous green flash at sunset, so we really must go back.
We did not see a whale. We did not ride in a boat. Our most vigorous activity was slathering on sun tan lotion with a SPF close to three digits and then aloe lotion after the beach.
I would think the green sunset flash was an island legend if I had not eaten at the Lazy Parrot. Imagine such elegant food in a relatively unknown part of Puerto Rico. I mean, anything can happen in Rincon. We even relaxed, let the waves carry away our memories of one of the worst Chicago winters ever recorded. We did not even feel smug. We just felt There, so very There and incredibly blessed with sun and waves and, yes, fried green tomatoes.